Purple

Spores: Part Four

Billy was a bad, bad boy. Normally, even before he got infected by the spores, he did some amusing yet questionable things. There was a reason he knew how to so easily disable Jason's ankle bracelet. He'd made a convincing fake I.D. a while ago, it's just that he was always so timid to use it. He was either scared he'd get caught or his too-good conscience got in the way. But now? Now he didn't care. Now his morals were a little more warped. So it was the perfect time to try it out.

He sat alone at a bar called 'Fat Willy's', nursing his fourth or fifth beer. He'd lost count. All he had to do was show the I.D. for a split second and no questions were asked. This didn't seem like the type of bar that really cared one way or the other.

It was also the type of bar that strangers weren't treated too kindly. It was on an old country road somewhere between Angel Grove and Stone Canyon, and its patrons mostly consisted of bikers.

"You don't look like you belong too much round these parts." A husky elderly voice came from behind him. Billy turned his head and quirked an eyebrow to the older portly man with a bandana on his head and a gross Z.Z. Top beard. He was flanked on either side by other decidedly white, tattooed men wearing rebel flags on their vests. Who even had rebel flags in California? These guys apparently.

They were clearly trying to intimidate Billy. And normally they might. But this was a different Billy Cranston. This was Billy inebriated and hopped up on monster spores. So he turned on his bar stool, his legs widely stanced as he gave them an unimpressed look.

"I don't. Your point?" He said, taking a long, slow, almost condescending swig from the beer bottle. The leader was clearly angered by it and doubled down on his intimidating voice.

"You should probably leave before there're any problems..." He said, staring Billy down. But Billy Cranston could only laugh, finishing off his beer and cocking his head to the side.

"Free country." He said, staring back with just as much vitriol. The older man nodded his head at his two friends, who moved to flank either side of Billy's stool. They grabbed his arms and tried to lift, but found that they couldn't. It was like the boy was made of steel.

"Aww, guys. You guys really shouldn't touch me. I have a thing about that." He said. They growled and both swung at him. He dodged easily, still sitting in his stool. One fist connected with the other's face, while the one getting punched tried making contact with Billy's only to have it stopped by Billy's incredibly strong hand. Billy smirked.

<center>* * *</center>

"Oh he's gonna murder those racist douchebags." Zack laughed, watching the viewing globe. They'd just finally tracked down Billy's whereabouts. It had been chaotic this afternoon. Kimberly had teleported in, crazed and crying. She had to be restrained. The boys managed to get her in a cage, but all she could do was scream about the frog. After a while they had calmed her down, but she was still spouting more expletives than they'd ever heard in their lives.

After hearing her story about the night before, Zordon and Alpha were able to cross-reference their system to a species of toad creatures they'd encountered centuries ago on a planet called Sorcery 7. They were carnivores, yes, but they didn't eat their prey by traditional means. They had an arsenal of natural techniques to lure unfortunate souls in. Their primary tool were spores they shot out of their body, infecting their targets minds and causing them to act reckless and irrationally, making them easier to capture. They stored prey in their mouths until they got to their lair, where they would use natural secretions to plaster them against the wall where they would lay comatose until the time came to feed. Of course they fed in cycles, once every 30 years over the course of a few days. Zordon wasn't aware that any had made it to this planet, but the fact that there only was one was good news. A couple dozen completely destroyed Sorcery 7.