Yoshi's Island 2: Xoshi's Story

By Wanopio

Chapter 7

Dr. Kamenstein looked around himself, wearily. He was trapped in a dome-shaped cage hanging from the ceiling thanks to a semi-strong chain wrapping the end of itself to one of the wooden beams belonging to the ceiling of the cottage he was then in. He looked around, once again, to take in the stats of his environment. It was a dimly lit place, the light mainly coming from the fireplace from just behind. Two cauldrons could have been noted as present: One of them was cooking itself over the flames of the mantle, while the other one was in the center of the room, boiling by these magical green flames, somehow keeping the pot afloat while avoiding setting fire to the floor at the same time. Its mysterious contents were being stirred by a pair of female Magikoopas, the two of them donned in purple robes and pointy hats. One of them had pink hair while the other one had blonde hair. They were chanting something...

"Ziga zoma chimah sen
With the herbs from Ligell's den
Zoga tini joga tine
With the blood from Jlakan swine

The ooze is nearing its life's peak
To weaken the strong and grow the weak
Its powers, they will aid us so,
As we stir it, to and fro

Zoga zenus... Tomiah shawst...
The cobra's fangs... Will soon be lost...
Jema tonee... Loo seir-in...
So says... Our god, Veyran...

Ziga zoma chimah sot
With the abyssmal sand we've got
Zoga tini joga tell
With the dark-dog's crystal bell

Zoga zenus... Tomiah shawst...
The cobra's fangs... Will soon be lost...
Jema tonee... Loo seir-in...
So says... Our god, Veyran..."

This creepy song continued, and it sent cold signals down the doctor's spinal cord. One question was on his mind:

How did I wind up here...?

The mad scientist decided he would answer that question for himself as soon as he got a few of his memorable past experiences out of the way first.

The first stop he made on Memory Lane was a moment taking place in his early childhood. He recalled a younger version of himself, sitting at the dinner table with his mother and father.

"So, Amos," his mother spoke to him. "How was school?"

"You always ask that question," he replied darkly, stirring away at his garlic stroganoff.

"So," she began again. The father was eagerly chomping away at his meal in their background. "How was it?"

‘Amos’ let out a sigh. He reluctantly decided to go along with the mundane routine. "Just fine, mother dear." He inserted some of the gunk into his mouth.

"Well, that's nice," she said, adding to her sentence an unnecessary mixture of rises and falls. “Learn anything new?"

"It's did you learn anything new, mother, and no, I didn't... Unless of course you'd count that one thing about the 'Placebo Effect'..."

"Oh, well that's even nicer!" she said ever so enthusiastically.

Amos sighed again. "'Nicer' is not a word."

"Oh. Right. My bad," she giggled. This didn't amuse Amos in the least, however. He would have ripped his hair out, if he had any.

Instead, he merely clutched at his bald scalp and said through gritted teeth, "Please... don't... ever... say that..." It was his father's turn to speak next. He dabbed the sides of his mouth with his conveniently located napkin after drowning out his last few bites.

"Well, honey, I simply must say: This is the best dinner I've ever had. You should open up a diner, or something," he complimented.

"Why, thank you, dear," she said, of course, with that smile ever pasted upon her face.

"And you, son," he said, turning to Amos. "You should consider taking up Accounting..."

Amos frowned once more; every father said that. "I told you, Dad, I plan on going into the fields of scientific research when I grow up. What does Accounting have to do with me?!"

"Well," he started, "it's like... your mother's cooking..." as if that wasn't a bad simile. She giggled once more. "With a little hard work and dedication, you could make anything come out of the Oven of Life; namely, Accounting."

Amos rolled his eyes; every father said that, too; it was getting old. "And... that applies to me... how?" he said.

"Simple!" he said. "You just take those reclusive personality traits of yours, throw in a good education, a few years at college, stir for nine months... HA HA HA-" He stopped there suddenly to slip into a rite of laughter, simultaneously, with his wife. As quickly as it ended/started, it started/ended again: "-HA! ...and voila: You've got yourself a nice, piping hot, mm, that'sa-one-spica-meata-balla job in the Accounting department; just like your uncle, Fred!"

Of course, had he have said instead a little something more along the lines of, "just like your old man", it probably would have been more appropriate, but no matter what he said, Amos had heard it all. He decided he had had enough. He gathered the remains of his dinner, including the plate, the glass, and the other eating utensils, and got up out of his seat. "Mother, Father, it has been another pleasure dining and conversing with the two of you. I shall retire to my room, now, and perhaps take into consideration what you told me, Father."

"Ah; you're welcome, son!" his father said as he made his way over to respectfully place his used food objects over there on the counter for later cleaning, as usual. He walked back a little towards where he came to give a polite bow, as it was part of the proper etiquette of Sarasaland.

"Don't mention it," he said coldly, even though it was obvious that sentence normally came after the two words "thank" and "you", rather than "you're" and "welcome". He turned around and headed up the stairs to his sanctuary. As soon as he got there, he turned on the light, mopily closed the door, meandered over to his bed, and flopped down upon it, belly first. He managed this by landing in such a position that would allow him to lie down with his face held in the palms of his hands, which were being supported by his elbows against the mattress. He did this, although no tears were being shed. He was just simply in one of those moods...

"Mother of Mercy, why me?!" he muttered under his breath. Then he released his face and looked up into the window his bed was near. His gaze was fixed upon the stars that were slowly forming in the evening sky. "Why was it that I, of all people, was the one to be left the misfortune of getting stuck with two such imbeciles for his up-bringing?!..."

The adult version of ‘Amos’, Dr. Kamenstein, ended that part of his flashback by remembering how it was another crescent moon that night. He noticed the witches were still doing their chant.

"Our cauldron's contents are coming to life
Soon, it'll rid us of our strife
An incantation is in order
It'll wipe our foes right off the boarder

Zoga Zenus... Tomiah Shawst..."

Weirdoes, he thought. How long are they gonna keep that up?!

Escape seemed to not be within his grasp at the moment, let alone at any moment, so he continued his complex mental activity. The next stop he made was more in his teenage years. There he was, standing with the rest of his variously raced classmates and schoolmates, waiting for the big, fancy buses to arrive. It was great; since they had all paid the 200-something amount of coins along with the permission slips and everything, they were going to visit a completely different country: Mario Land.

He was there with his old friend, Mad Scienstein. A conversation struck up between the two of them: "Boy, Amos, just you wait; in due time we'll be basking in 1-Up Hearts, giant pumpkins, amusement parks, big ugly stone turtles, and casinos. Maybe even royalty, too (I can already taste the autographs). Do you think it's true how they actually have a statue of a hippo that spouts bubbles out of its nose? I heard that they can take you all the way to the moon..."

"Hmm... It's rather hard to believe, I must say, but yes, I do think it just might be possible."

"Yes. It must be quite a technological feat."

"Or an engineering one."

"Yes, that, too. I don't know why I brought up all that other stuff; I've always wanted to go to the moon! I heard it has a world called 'SPECIAL'." He imagined a jazz type theme song starting up in his head: Doo-doot-doot doo-doot-DOOT; DOOOOT!

"And that you don't even need a spacesuit to get there!"

"That, too! Now, how do you suppose that's possible?"

"I don't know; it ought to be quite the scientific find."

"Or the impossible one! You'd have to be invincible, or something..."

"Which reminds me, how goes that one serum of yours, the Invincibility Potion?"

"Splendid. All I have to do is figure out the Clofide Enugulator Spectrum, and I'll be all set!"

"Grand." At that point, the buses finally arrived and the topics of the chatting people around them shifted slightly. Their obnoxious teachers grabbed their attention. Amos, Mad, and the rest of their group were being led by a certain duo of them consisting of a man with a goatee, a bad comb-over, and a pair of glasses, and a little, middle-aged one. The goateed one spoke up.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen... boys and girls... boys and gentlemen? Babies, gentlemen, and the like! That's what I said, gentleman! Do any of you remember that song? He said it, walk like a man, talk like a man, walk like a man my s-"

SMACK! Thankfully, that was when the smaller one got him upside the head.

"Thank you, sir; I needed that. As Sigmund Freud would say, 'Psychology... is everywhere!’"

SMACK! The small one got him again. "Um, what El Psycho here is trying to tell you all is simply to remember what bus you're on and... don't get lost!"

"'El Psycho'?! My good sir, I believe you are mistaken! As Charles Darwin would say, 'My name possibly evolved from m-‘"

SMACK! With a motion of his hand, the smaller one beckoned the students to board the bus before them. It bore a picture of some cartoony-looking rat-like marsupial giving its beholders the thumbs-up while saying "Crash Bandicoot *: The Bus of Cortex". Once all the groups were loaded onto their respective vehicles, they were off to the airport...

The witches had taken a break from their cauldron boiling/stirring activity, thankfully. Only the pink-haired one was in the room. "Kammelina!" she called out. "What's the hold up? You should have the eyes by now!"

"... I'M COMING, SISTER. BE PATIENT!" Kammelina called back.

"Hmph." She stood there next to the boiling pot with her arms folded. Suddenly, she looked over to Dr. Kamenstein. At last, he was being acknowledged. "So, how have you been doing, 'Amos'? Been enjoying the show? How about the view? The weather?"

"It's have you been enjoying-"

"Yeah, yeah. Me too. Just you wait; the big finale's coming up next!" As if that really was just what the doctor ordered... whatever it was going to be.

That was when Kammelina, the blonde one, finally rushed into the room from upstairs with the jar of slop.

"FINALLY!" her sister bursted out. "What kept you?!"

"Well, I was a little bit hesitant because I found out that maybe what we needed was some Marinotropolan swine, not Jlakan swine," Kammelina responded.

"'Marino-' NEVERMIND! Let's just get this over with..." The two of them waddled over to the cauldron. Kammelina twisted the top off the jar, then emptied its gruesome contents into their brew. Then it started to glow rhythmically. Kammelina tossed the jar aside, resulting in a shattering noise from the distance. They grabbed a hold of their big spoon again and resumed their song...

"Zoozus jovi goma zass

Chook-ta hu Shyss soma blass..."

"Oh, now you're just speaking gibberish..." Dr. Kamenstein muttered, doubting they heard him.

Dr. Kamenstein skipped his flashback ahead a few hours to when they were actually on the plane to Mario Land. Of course, he got to be seated next to his friend, Mad. Since Amos saw ahead of time that it was going to be a rather long flight, he brought along with him his laptop. He was surfing the Internet. Eventually, Mad got bored, and the snoozing gorilla-kid to the right of him and the left of the isle wasn't exactly making things more exciting. He leaned over to Amos to chat. "Gracious, how in the world did we get stuck with Lazy Kong?! All this kid does is sleep! He probably has too much melatonin going through his veins, or something. It's a wonder how his parents could afford this trip; they're probably as lazy as he is! Hence the name..."

"Mad, do you mind? I'm trying to figure out what could allow a person to visit space without a spacesuit."

"Oh. My apologies, Amos. It's just that I'm terribly under-stimulated. It'd be nicer if Elvin were here; then I wouldn't be so bored and he'd be able to answer your question..."

Amos sighed. Mad's last line reminded him of about ten different things at once: That one Email he sent; the Rip Van Fish that wrote back; that one extraordinarily long fish-related movie they had to watch back in the fifth grade; Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within; Gone With the Wind; his ex-girlfriend, Stephanie; that one time when the three of him, Mad, and Elvin had a run-in with a block-maker, an age-fanatic, and a transfigurator; that one Harry Potter fan-fiction he read once; that one time Elvin told him about how ghosts often like to play tricks on people; and, not surprisingly, there was that word.

"I'm going to look up that word..." muttered Amos.

"Which word?" Mad asked. Amos didn't respond, however. He just typed away a little more, let the search engine do its work, and looked it up. A frown fell over his face.

"I can't believe 'nicer' actually is a word," he grumbled.

"Oh, that word. Yeah, it's a word. Would you believe that 'befoe' and 'enormosity' aren't? If fact, there was this one time I..."

Dr. Kamenstein returned briefly to the present to check up on the processes of his two capturers. He noticed how they were still going on with that creepy chant.

"Jema tonee... Loo seir-in..."

At that point, Dr. Kamenstein decided it was then time to stop wasting his own time and get to the point: He got to the part when he had just finished calming the babies to rush in from out of the corner to say, "Did you say, 'evil clowns'?!"

In response, Marilyn said, "Yes, sir, I did. By the way: Would you be Doctor Kamenstein?" He remembered a short round of introductions and stories being repeated. He would have continued on further, but something caught his interest.

Dr. Kamenstein returned to the real world briefly, once again, to check up on the processes of his capturers. They were still chanting. However...

"So, light the way, our wondrous kin
Break their bones and burn their skin
Make them cry, make them cringe
With our deity's dark sorynge..."

Dr. Kamenstein was confused by that last word. It was kind of like when Marcus couldn't tell if it was "macho" or "nacho". The two sisters seemed to be equally befuddled. The blonde one spoke first.

"'Orange'?! Are you out of your mind, sister?! It's supposed to be 'syringe'! Besides: Nothing rhymes with 'orange'! Everyone knows that. Even the 'muggles' do!"

"Now, let's not be using that copyright infringement stuff on me, Kammelina. Everyone really knows that that's just a silly paradigm. It's all in how you pronounce it! 'Or-inge', 'binge', 'twinge', 'singe', 'SYR-inge’..."

"You Liberals make me sick! Nothing has ever rhymed with 'orange', and there never will be! Stick to the script!"

"Oh, you would say that, you Conservative know-it-all; Little Miss I-Shall-Remain-Young-For-The-Rest-Of-My-Years."

"Are you making fun of my hair?! I'll have you know, Kammeo, that blonde is my natural color!"

"You're just jealous that yours came out blonde and not pink like mine did. The good side of the gene pool; that's what I got!"

"You filthy little urchin! I am the most beautifulKoopa in existence, and you can't take that away from me!!"

"No, you're the most hideous abomination that has ever been brought into this world, hence plaguing it with anger, hatred, desire, selfishness, and lust, etcetera!"

"Don't you go comparing me to that silly 'Pandora's Box' children's tale!"

"Who says you're like abox? I'd say you're more of a horrid, misshapen, disfigured, blob of..." and the conversation went just about as pointless as that, constantly changing subject from one to another. In spite of this, the doctor still saw it all as even more things that would get the puzzle pieces to fall into place, both inside of his head and out. He let out another disgruntled sigh and continued his memories.

Dr. Kamenstein remembered then being in his own personal library, once again, to answer some questions. In addition, the three guests, including the children, Tessa and William, were there too. The book he was flipping through that time was entitled "A Dark Past". It was actually a book he, himself, was writing; one about his own personal biography. Like before, he flipped through the pages for a little while until he came across what he was looking for. "Ah-HA!" he exclaimed. "I wrote this down upon returning from our trip to Mario Land in high school. It says, 'Our next stop was the mayor's house, a piece of architecture particularly bigger than the rest. What astonished me was how it was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. Our two young female tour guides led us throughout the place, having us witness such sites as the commons, the "Hall of Paintings", and the gift shop. We were also taken to the cafeteria (which was more of a diner, if you ask me). It had all the tables, booths, and waitresses on roller skates fit to blend in with the environment. For reasons that were unclear to me, at first, the place also included a stage. Of course, that served no purpose until after me, Mad, Birdo, and Lazy Kong got to finish our intelligent conversation. The lights suddenly went off, and we heard a high-pitched voice screech, "Ladies and gentlemen, 'kneel before your masters'." It frightened us, at first, but then the spotlights turned on, and there, before us, was the famous dark rock and roll band, "The Evil Clowns".'" Dr. Kamenstein stopped there to let it sink in. He remembered William saying something.

"'Evil Clowns’," he repeated. "Don't you mean, I.C.P.?"

"I THOUGHT they did. It turned out they didn't. I remember them breaking into a vengeful song called 'Your Own Blades'. A magnificent performance, yes, it was, but, in the end, it was revealed that the song really was too good to be true." Dr. Kamenstein continued reading from another point. "'...The story was boring, so I snuck out. Hiding behind the sign from before, I was able to be let in on who and what exactly "The (so-called) Evil Clowns" were... technically. They said their "evil plan" was to use the song to completely entrance the audience, so their pockets could have been mined of all money, complimentary carrots from the start of the tour, etc. That was when I noticed my laptop was missing. I was enraged, but forced to remain calm. There were, after all, two more members than there were before-' -Five to be more exact," the doctor interrupted himself, then continued. "'And I knew, perfectly well, I didn't stand a chance. Sneaking off to call the police would have been a formidable action, but their words intrigued me; they spoke of "their mistress" and...'" Kamenstein started to stall. The next part was a little private. "And the rest is history," he summed up.

"So, you've met them before," said Marilyn.

"Yes, I did. Later, I conducted the research..." Dr. Kamenstein stalled once more, careful not to mention the vital part. "...And it turned out that they had changed their names to 'The Demonic Jesters'. Their ambitions were still unknown to me, and... I also found out that they were weak against 'sub-zero temperatures'..." he trailed.

"Ah, like 'the claw'," the boy said again.

"You watch way too many movies," said his older sister.

"Hm. Maybe," he said mischieviously.

Dr. Kamenstein took another break from his memories. By that time, the witches had finally finished fighting and remembered what it was they were arguing over. They concluded that it was actually a syringe loaded with dark orange guts.

"Well," the one named Kammelina started. "Alright; just try to be a little more careful in the future."

"Hmph! Let's just return to our 'toil', okay?"

"Okay." At that, they resumed the stirring and the rhyming.

"Make them cry, make them cringe
Burn their skin (make it singe)
With our deity's dark syringe
Filled to the brim with dark or-inge..."

"*sigh*" Dr. Kamenstein remembered then walking through the halls of his dome, once more, deciding upon the plan of attack.

"...And, because of that, I want you, Storko..." he was saying.

"I'll..." Storko said, meaning he was waiting for his boss to finish his sentence.

"On second thought, scratch that. Last time I sent you to do something, you screwed up. So, instead, I'll be going."

All four of the rest of the conversation's participants seemed to be a little shocked by this statement. "But, Doctor..." Storko started. He was cut off, though.

"Nah-ah-ah, my word is final. After all: I have been meaning to take my revenge out upon those rejects of society. Plus, I'll be needing someone to stay behind and be a good babysitter/host." By that time, they were at the door leading to his ‘garage’, which he made into more of an arsenal filled with his inventions designed to inflict pain and whatnot.

"Hmmm... Yes, Doctor."

Dr. Kamenstein fumbled around with the keys a little more, found the right one, and opened. Once casting his silhouette against the square of light that the door seemed to be from a distance, he reached out with his right hand and flipped on a light. There, right before them, was something vaguely resembling what would be seen in the garage of a rich man. A rich man like that Mac Rozone, he thought darkly. One of them kind of looked like a futuristic bike, but it was missing its hind wheel, and a few other parts, too (he was still working on it). Another looked like a submarine, another looked like an airplane built for one passenger, and one passenger only, and the fourth one looked like a jet, its front forming the shape of the Madscikoopa's buck-toothed, glasses-wearing face (it was customary for mad scientists to mark their things with their own face-like logos). But the one he decided to walk over to was the small airplane. The stork ventured out into the semi-empty room a little further than the somewhat timid family of guests did. Dr. Kamenstein got to talking as soon as he popped open a compartment near the front of the flying device.

"I call this the 'Sky-pop'. I used it both to attend college, and flee from Mario Land," he said, then making his way over to the wall before the machine. Marilyn grabbed his attention.

"That's how I know you!" she said. Dr. Kamenstein stopped his activity, realizing he probably made a mistake, mentioning Mario Land. "You used to be the chancellor of..." She stopped there, noticing a solemn look on his face. "Oh. I'm sorry. Was that something I shouldn't have brought up?"

Dr. Kamenstein quickly found forgiveness for the woman. It was, after all, he who brought it up. That, and he found her to be way more redeeming than his own mother was. "Don't worry about it, Madame." He continued to pack light blue Bullet Bills with what looked to be strange gas mask-like faces on them into his invention. This caught the interest of the daughter.

"What are those?" she asked.

"I call them 'Blifit Bills', my dear. They are projectiles that can freeze the target upon impact. They're powerful enough to solidify even fire."

"That's not possible," she said skeptically.

"I remember there was a time when I, myself, was thinking that exact same thought towards the exact same spectacle, dear. She was a female Snifit with her sights set on a certain doll. But with science, anything is possible," Dr. Kamenstein said, hoping he wasn't sounding too much like that one doofus he said was boring.

"...And so I was saying, 'how can I "get on the bus", if I don't know where I'm going to?' Well, he told me, 'Son, when the times are getting the tough, the tough gotta get times.' They were the wisest words I ever heard in my entire life. Years later, I thought of the economy while watching the paint dry. I said to myself, 'Self?' And I responded, 'Yes?' 'What can I do to make this country a better place?' But then I remembered Waldo Zwoods' wise words..."

The labcoat-wearing Koopa Troopa shuddered at the memory. He then noticed the slightly nervous look on the girl. Really, she was thinking about his last last sentence. He said to her, "Tessa, my dear, fret not. These things are just what those 'evil clowns' will be needing. And Madame, don't you worry, either. I'll be in Gana Village before you'll know it, as your husband will be returned." As he was climbing into the seat of his contraption, placing the helmet atop his head, he noticed he hadn't said anything to William nor his stork yet. As the propeller was starting up, he turned to said two people, and quoth, "Oh, and William? Do take good care of your mother and older sister while I'm gone. Storko, serve them well, including Wario, Waluigi... and the 'you-know-what'. Tah!" His airplane's wheels whirled him around the other machines, and slowly, he took to the skies. Waving goodbye to him reminded Storko of the Yoshis, Marilyn of her husband, and William of Sideshow Bob's younger brother. It reminded the doctor himself, though, of the "copyright infringement stuff" that those female Magikoopas brought up earlier. He broke away from his deep thoughts again, and noticed how their chanting was continuing as their ooze was beginning to glow even brighter.

"The pot's contents are starting to glow

Soon we will have dealt our blow..."

For once while being held as their prisoner, "Amos" was beginning to feel a little nervous. He decided to move it along...

The next thing he knew, he was up in the sky, remembering that fateful night (it was a flashback within a flashback) with the big one, the Jester one, the horn-playing one, the round one, the spiky one, and the two new ones...

"So, how was the concert?" Amos noticed how one of them was tall and female, with a wretched voice.

"It went rather well! We had the audience completely under our control! Which reminds me, Taffy, how did the plundering go?" Amos noticed how the big, fat one, Rudy, was talking to the other new one, an orangutan wearing a polka-dotted vest (half yellow, half white), a frilly thing around his neck, a red rubber clown nose, and another one of those pointy hats.

"Heh heh heh," he chortled in a deep, sinister voice. "Prosperous. Since you guys were up there doing your thing, no one noticed how I completely mined all of their pockets. A few of them were carrots and a laptop, though, but hey, we made millions!"

Amos's sluggish approach quickly evolved into him ducking behind the "Vil verc vore vud" sign from before. He checked the compartments of his white coat. No coins, no laptop... not even a TI-2001! Those thieves! He had to contain his rage, however; had he have blown his cover, it surely would have been the end of him. All he could do was wait, listen, and hope they wouldn't notice him. He reasoned it could have worked a second time...

"Kudos to Har-Harlequin for the marvelous idea!" Rudy was saying. The others all simultaneously let out their variously voiced "Kudos!"' as the tall, ugly female one took it with much satisfaction.

‘Those THIEVES!’ Amos thought to himself, his teeth gnashing. He was going to re-sneak his way back in to phone the police, but their next few words re-grabbed his attention...

"At last, we can revive our mistress, can we not, Rudy?" said the Jester in that handsome voice of his.

"Yes, Jester, we can. Har-Harlequin, if you will..." As he commanded it, she produced a small box. It resembled a treasure chest with a question mark and a crank on it. Rudy's first movement with its strange handle automatically jerked the box open. The top, rounder half of it split off to form a roof over the box's contractible contents: The thing that held the two parts of the box together was some kind of glass cylinder with a small but highly detailed statue in the midst of it. Amos couldn't figure out what it was supposed to be a statue of from where he was spying, but he could make out one thing...

‘A music box?!’ he thought to himself. The next instant Rudy tried the handle, it was moving in cooperation with his hand's circular motion. An eerie lullaby started to play from the box as the statue started to whirl about. He could notice the eager faces on the other minions, almost resembling dogs drooling for a nice juicy steak being dangled above their heads.

Each note the box played made its statue glow even brighter. At the right time, Rudy said, "It won't be long now!!" The eyes of the others widened even further. Amos was feeling this, too, in addition to having that feeling in his stomach as though it was suddenly made of lead, hence keeping him from drawing any breath. Just when the song was but one note away from its completion, Rudy stopped.

"Boss?! What's wrong?!" The horn-playing one was panicking, but he seemed to be but one of the few of them that didn't already know the answer to that question.

"Can't you hear it?!" Taffy Kong hissed.

"It's headed straight for us," Har-Harlequin mumbled. Amos was beginning to hear it too. Two voices: One of them high pitched, the other one low pitched, both of them screaming bloody murder as though they were just shot out of a cannon...

"......aaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuggggggGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

...which they probably were considering how they were two blue blurs headed straight for the villainous group of seven like a pair of twin speeding bullets.

"HIT THE DECK!" Rudy shouted as he snapped the box shut and dove to the ground with the others. The two blurs whizzed past their heads and collided, heads first, into their Clown Copter. Surprisingly, the impact was able to make all three objects tumbling out of control in the direction away from the group. A few clouds of dust and an ending to the screams later, The Evil Clowns got up off the ground, dusted themselves off, then made their ways on over to investigate. Amos had to alter his position as they moved away, certain that their shifting lines of sight would have been able to catch him at some point. Amos noticed them, too; they were a downed duo consisting of a Snifit and a Sackit. Once the group came within their breathing space, they got up and rubbed their heads for obvious reasons.

"Geez Louise, Blifit, you scream like a girl."

"That's because I AM a girl, you dripwad!" Apparently, neither of the two of them were aware of the clowns that were staring them down.

"Are you two alright?" Rudy asked, being the self-professed gentleman that he was, as usual.

"Yes. A little concussioned, though, and-" The one named Blifit stopped right there. She suddenly became more conscious of the presence of their sympathizers then more than ever. She immediately took a different tone while pointing to Rudy, accusingly. "YOU!" she bellowed. "You're that one posse of evil clowns that Razule told us about! Sackle, get your knives out; we've got a circus tent to burn down!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Sackle, the Sackit, then unsheathed an impressive assortment of the sharp weapons, eight of them in all, one to be held in the spaces between each of his ten gloved fingers. That made him look more intimidating.

Dr. Kamenstein recalled how he couldn't tell if it had dawned on Rudy, yet. He persisted to maintain his polite faux. "Now, see here, miss, I believe you have the wrong cl-"

"Forget it, Rudy; let's get 'em!" Har-Harlequin cut him off. She threw her arms out and immediately started to send lightning bolts crashing down upon her foes out of nowhere. Blifit and Sackle were dodging frantically; she was making them dance!

"Alright then." Rudy got his wits together. "Jester, Night Guy, Taffy; you three help out Har-Harlequin. Ba-doyng, Katunk; you two get to restoring the Clown Copter. Me...?" He looked around himself in all directions.

"You'll..." Ba-doyng, the Bashful, started.

"I'll get to finding that music box." The others let out a few worried noises and words. "Don't worry; just get to those villains!"

"Yes, Rudy," they all said at once. Then they jumped into the battlefield, which had its lightning bolts replaced by the hoops of fire of Har-Harlequin. Ba-doyng and Katunk made their ways on over to the fallen Clown Copter. Rudy wandered back over to where the spell was almost cast. He stopped and scratched his head, rotating like before.

"Now, where did I put that thing?!" he muttered to himself. Little did he know that while they were distracted, Amos was busy stealing the box from where it was last dropped. He was still behind that stupid sign.

Dr. Kamenstein remembered how Har-Harlequin just kept using her fire hoops, Sackle kept throwing his knives, and Night Guy kept... blowing his horn. But it seemed as though every time he did, a musical note-like knife would materialize before the horn's mouth, and he would use that to throw at his enemies. Taffy kept flinging barrels out of nowhere, Jester kept using his deck of cards, but what intrigued Amos the most was how Blifit kept spouting from her snout these blue mists of freezing mist; one of them even got one of the fire hoops in midair! When that happened, the flame immediately transformed into a big frozen doughnut which fell to the ground and shattered. If only he'd had his pen and notepad around, then he would have been able to write down the mysterious Snifit's amazing anatomy. Since he didn't, however, he was forced to rely upon memory.

Ha-WOOONKK! Night Guy produced another knife. It stood there in front of him for a moment before he grabbed its handle and flung it at Sackle. Sackle caught it with his then knife-free hand and threw it back at him. He dodged the attack, though, and it just resulted in a perfectly good weapon landing in no location in particular. Taffy Kong threw a barrel at Sackle from behind, but he just leapt up from it and it ended up crashing into Night Guy, who was too busy ducking to dodge. SMASH! The barrel combusted upon impact. Night Guy was down for the count.

"Whoops, uh, sorry about that, Night Guy! I was just trying to-" SHING! It was too late; Night Guy was already unconscious and Blifit had managed to manipulate his time-wasting apology by spending the time it took to freeze him like she would one of Har-Harlequin's hoops.

"Why, you little brat! How dare you fell one of my comrades?!" she spazzed. "Take this!" She breathed in and exhaled a blast of flame. Blifit retaliated, of course, with her sub-zero breath. Shudda-sha-SHING! The fire was turned into sculptures of ice shaped like eye-less Podoboos. They shattered once they hit the ground. "Grrr... STOP DOING THAT! IT DEFIES THE LAWS OF PHYSICS!"

"So?"

"So, STOP-" DOYNG! She was interrupted by one of Sackle's knives; it got her in the right shoulder. Instantly, her left hand zipped to it. "AGGAAHH! I've been wounded!" She fell to the ground. One more left...

"You wanna piece o' me?!" Jester yelled to the two of them, while holding up his right hand which magically made a fan of razor sharp playing cards appear.

"Hey, howdja do that?!" Sackle called to him. Jester just grinned.

"It's magic, silly!" He began throwing them at the two. Sackle took it into his two hands, however, by flinging them off into different directions in midair with the knives he threw.

"Shoot! I'm out of carves!" the two of them simultaneously said. Blifit just laughed.

"Of course, I on the other hand, am not so-"

That was also when it hit Rudy. He said, "Of course! How ridiculous of me; it's obviously right behind that sign!"

Amos felt his blood stop moving. Suddenly-

"And with a few minor adjustments-" WHAM! "It's right-side up again!"

"YAY!" Badoyng said. Just when they were about to hop in-

WOOOOO! WEEOOEEOOEEOOEEOO-

The police sirens were off. The squad was rushing into the scene with their eight go-karts.

"My prayers have been answered...; Cripes! I just knew this would happen!; GAH! I told you using their cannons for travel was a bad idea! Grab the doll, and run." Amos, Rudy, and Blifit were the ones who said those things, in that order. Just then, the Clown Copter was up and running again, being manned by Ba-doyng and Katunk. They had managed to scoop up each of Jester, Night Guy, Taffy, and Har-Harlequin. Then it was Rudy's turn.

"Rudy! Hop in!" Katunk was saying.

"NO! We must-" It was too late. They rammed into his gelatinous body and flew away with him clinging on to it. "NOOOOoooo..."

It was just as well. The police had arrived where they once fought.

"Mamamia!" one of the native police officers said. "They got away!"

"But the blue ones are still on the run. Let's go, boys!" At that, they (VRROOOOM!) drove off, leaving Amos to remain lying behind the sign, breathing heavily, sweating profusely, with the artifact resting atop his chest...

To this day, Dr. Kamenstein thought to himself, I have wondered how on PLIT I was able to evade the group, the clowns, the thieves, and the police. I have also been wondering about that music box...

That was when he noticed he had almost run out of juice. "Blast!" he said out loud, above the tress. "I must stop for fuel..." Unfortunately, joints that offered such liquid for such devices of aerial transportation tended to float amongst the clouds on strangely colored platforms of wood and they would be run by midget space aliens with white bodies and pairs of sunglasses (both reminded him of his arch-nemesis, 'Foreman' Spike). That was no time for bad past experiences, though, so he had to make do. He flew in closer amidst the trees and, quite luckily, managed to come across something: A cottage made of gingerbread, peppermints, candy canes, gum drops, lemon candy, and just about everything under the sun that could rot teeth. He would have found it tempting had he have been able to retain the sweet tooth he had back during childhood. He just needed some assistance, however, and so he landed firmly a short distance away from it, turned off the Sky-pop, removed his helmet, hopped out, and approached the doorbell.

Ding dong! It took a little while, but eventually, he was able to catch a glimpse of an eye staring back at him through a slightly opened door held to the wall by a semi-strong chain, and behind a pair of movie star-type glasses. He caught oneglimpse and that was it. As soon as it opened slightly, it shut back up. This confused the mad scientist, and he could have sworn he could hear voices from within. He leaned his non-existent ear up against the door to listen more intently.

"Intruder alert, sister! I say we age him into an old man just near his death!"

"No, no. You have to cut back on the age stuff, Kammelina. I say we turn him into a cockroach and smush him!"

"My, my. What acreative interrogator you are, Kammeo! Lay off the transformation stuff, why don't you. Use your imagination!"

"Well, at leastI wasn't the one who left that doll at the Yoshi house!"

"Blaming me for that again, are you, sis? Grow up, now, hm? I'm just saying..."

Dr. Kamenstein could feel that hard and heavy feeling in his stomach again. He knew who they were: They were that same trio of witches that he, Mad, and Elvin bumped into so many years ago... Well, two of them, at least. But where was the "block-maker"? It didn't matter to him; he was just going to gently walk away, and hope for the best. Just when he turned around, he heard the door squeak open quickly behind him. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh, no, no, NO, dear. By all means! Come on in." It was the blonde one that was telling him that. He was more motivated to make a break for it then than ever. He didn't get very far, though. Not very far at all. As soon as his sprint started, it was stopped as a scaly hand grabbed him fiercely by the back of his coat.

"Aahh! I'm sorry, ma'ams and sirs, but I really must be-"

"NONSENSE! I in-SIST!" Her sister, Kammeo, waddled out to grab him by his right arm while the other shifted to do the same to his left. At that, he was dragged into their sugary house of death, and rusty metal shackling noises were heard (sha-SHING! Sha-SHING!). The next thing he knew, he was hanging from the ceiling in that dimly lit room with two of his many old enemies staring up at him contently. One of them had her arms folded, the other one had placed her hands on her hips to form a grotesque hexagon shape.

"So, 'Amos Milo Kamenstein', we meet again!" Kammelina said menacingly.

"Likewise," the Madscikoopa growled.

"Only this time," her sister continued, "you'll not be having any invincibility-fanatics nor any 'apparitionists' to help you!" Kammelina turned to glare at her.

"You ridiculous wench! Everyone knows there's no such thing as an 'apparitionist'!"

"Of course there is! It means: 'One who studies ghosts'!"

"You just got that off of the Internet, you bumbling baboon!"

"So what if I did, 'dear sister'?"

"IT WOULD MEAN YOU HAVE CROSSED OVER TO THE SIDE OF TECHNOLOGY, YOU TRAITOROUS SORCERESS!!!" The look on Dr. Kamenstein's face grew weirder and weirder as he watched the two of them argue, once more, for barely any reason at all. Once that dimmed down, Kammelina said to him, "Consider yourself lucky, Shelled Creeper! You get to sit back and watch the show while we get to make that potion!" The two of them broke into a conjoined "Bleh heh heh heh heh heh hehh..." and got started...

Dr. Kamenstein snapped back to the present. The potion! By that time, it really had come to life. It wasn't much more than a pure green light emitting its way from the depths of the cauldron.

"Success, sister! And you said we needed Marinotropolan swine..."

"Silence, sister! Let's see what it does..." Kammelina approached the cauldron and flew her arms out in a religious "Y" formation. "Oh, great mass of our creation; lend me your ears! You shall-"

BBLLLOORRRPP! SMMAAASSHHH! The slime disobeyed its orders, formed a long, disgusting pseudopod of itself, and flew out the front door... while it was still closed (hence leaving a big mess). The two female Magikoopas rushed to the wreckage.

"What in-" Kammeo started. She was yanked down by her sister, though.

"INCOMING!!!" she screeched. The big fat laser of gunk "swam" its way back into the cottage, pierced right through Kamenstein's chain, and formed another big mess as it flew out of the newly-formed "sun roof". The sight of what just happened in addition to the new hole they had as well as the escaped prisoner didn't allow them to do much more than just stand and stare.

"I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED MARINOTROPOLAN SWINE!!!" Kammelina fumed.

"Would you stop YELLING ALL THE TIME?! IT'S HURTING MY EARS!" her sister screamed back, inserting her rotating fingers into her previously mentioned natural accessories.

"Not as much as THIS IS GOING TO!" She whipped out her wand and pointed it at her.

"HA! DO YOUR WORST, SISTER!" While the two of them were busy "cat-fighting" amongst themselves, their former prisoner was busy fleeing from the wreckage off to his Sky-pop which was still there and still intact. Better than that as a matter of fact: The ooze flew out to fill his plane up with the fuel he needed. It looked as though the visit wasn't a big mistake after all 

"Oh,COME now," he grumbled, hopping back in, equipping the helmet again. "Tell me: Who saw  that coming?!" Within a matter of seconds, he was back in the sky, on his way to Gana Village. Meanwhile, the witches had just climbed out of their respective piles of makeshift "snow forts". They were aboutto fire a few more blasts at each other, when Kammeo suddenly stopped the fight.

"WAIT! LOOK, sister..." She pointed to the hole in the ceiling. They stood there observing a plane shaped speck flying its way across the morning sky, as the orange sun was rising. Kammelina turned towards Kammeo again.

"Well, that settles it," she said. "Grab your broomstick, Kammeo; we're going to Marinotropolis..."

Read on!