Kim Possible and Spider-Man: The Spectacular Sitch

17th & 10th

HIDEOUT #2

Ron could feel his head buzzing as the effects of the knockout gas were starting to wear off. He groaned and his eyelids began to part. The first images were blurry, but there was at least one source of light amongst an endless sea of darkness. He thought to rub his eyes, but he knew this scenario. Being strung up on a hook or built-in wall cuffs. This time, he was hung from his wrists from what felt like some kind of thick rope. They were wrapped tightly, and the added pressure of gravity only tightened any struggle against the loops and knots. Every little movement in his torso also worsened the pain in his gunshot wound. It was tighter now, and he wondered how much blood he might have lost since he went out.

His eyes adjusted and he could see a bit more detail in his surroundings. The lone light was situated over a door, perhaps an exit. The floor under the door was made out of tight fitting tile pieces. A few streaks were scored into the tile, possibly from some heavy object being dragged across it or being dropped onto it. Ron thought it looked like the type of floor you would find on a theater stage. They had a reflective property to them, as if a thousand mirrors joined together on the floor to make one big one.

The rest of the surrounding area was dark, but he was able to spot a few things. The backside of a curtain brushed against his shoulder. Across the stage, a table with an assortment of canisters and small cubes stacked on top.

"Um, hello" he dared to say, hoping someone would reply. "Crystal-headed guy... you out there?"

Ron suddenly felt something grab his head. Two green arms and hands had appeared from behind him and startled him. He hollered in distress at the thought of having his head potentially being snapped off his body. He tried to kick his legs up to fend the attack off, but lacked the core strength to accomplish it. He continued hollering and crying, his high-pitched voice cracking through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

"Make it STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"As you wish."

The arms seemed to vanish. Ron eased up for the moment and exhaled. But the lone light was turned off. "Ah!" he cried, "who's that? What's going on?"

He looked down, and a green cloud was produced out of the floor. Light fleshed from within the cloud, almost like lightning would in a thundercloud. Emerging from the cloud with his crystal head glowing, shoulders hunched over in a sinister way, and his cape waving violently was the costumed villain Ron had been looking for.

"Whoa!" gawked Ron. "That would be so cool if you weren't going to hurt me." He cowered at this malevolent figure for a second. "So, I guess introductions are in order? I'll start. I'm Ron. Ron Stoppable."

"I know who you are, Ron Stoppable" the menacing figure growled, inching closer to his victim. "But it is you who does know who I am."

"Yeah, you're right," Ron quickly rambled, "are you some sort of alien like Marvin the Martian. Or maybe you're some type of sci-fi scuba diver." The figure just stared blankly at Ron's strange way of dealing with fear. "Oh, oh, wait. I got it. You're one of many copies of a killer NPC robot from a video game, right?"

"A copy?" the mysterious figure repeated back, "No one calls Mysterio a copy. Mysterio is Master of the Arcade Arts. Defender of the Inner Spirit."

"Well, can I just say," Ron said, "I imagine kidnapping someone and holding them hostage doesn't earn many spirit points."

"SILENCE FOOL!" Mysterio shouted, pointing his fingers angrily at his captive.

"Silence fool. Really? That's the best you got?" Ron joked. "You know, if you really want to sell the whole super-villain motif, the least you could do is come at me with some witty banter. Or at least go into your takeover of the world speech. Just sayin."