Wild West Mice

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Disclaimer: I don't own the BMFM or any character from that show. I do, however, own Mari, Ice, Mandy, and Snowfall. I also don't own the premise of the new Wild Wild West movie or the characters therein, which was the culprit for this story idea. (And I haven't even seen it yet!!!) I make no money and do this for the enjoyment of all.

This is set about a year after A Painful Decision.

Read and Enjoy

Wild West Mice

by Goldenmane

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They had seen the movie, and had all they could do to remain in the theater. Not that the movie was bad or anything, only they had all they could do to keep Vinnie quiet. Mari had cringed every time an action sequence began, nearly pouncing on Vinnie to keep him still. And when they showed the scene with the mechanical spider nuking the building, they were nearly thrown out.

"That's the last time I take you anywhere," Mari said with a huff as she headed for Ice.

Throttle only shook his head.

"Ya got to admit one thing," Modo said. "It was a good movie."

Mari chuckled. "What we could hear of it."

Vinnie said nothing, going to his bike. He couldn't help it if he got a little excited when the action began. He didn't see any reason for Mari to be mad at him.

They headed down the road back to the Last Chance Garage where Charlie tended to Snowfall. Mari had dropped in for a visit and the thought of taking a one year old to a movie had not sounded appealing. Though after watching the movie with Vinnie, she wondered if Snowfall might have been a better choice.

Mari suddenly whipped around, groaning. "Goons at six o'clock," she said, arming Ice.

"Well, then, we'd better not keep them waiting in the aisles," Throttle said. "Let's rock."

"And ride," they chorused.

They broke, firing on Limburger's goons with wild abandon. Especially Vinnie. He swerved around a missile followed by a buggy, raring his bike and changing directions. He sped after the buggy, blowing it to pieces.

He thought he heard a shout. He could have sworn it came from Mari, but he couldn't be sure. He knew he heard a rumbling sound and stopped. Vinnie realized his mistake a little too late when the building beside him exploded, knocking him off his bike, burying him under rubble.

He soon blacked out.

Vinnie awoke to a pounding headache. In fact, his whole body ached. He lay, face up in the dirt, a hot sun beating down upon him. He rose, groggily and sat. He looked around, his eyes growing wide.

"What happened to Chicago?" he nearly cried. For as far as he could see was scrub land, broken by the occasional bush or sparse tree.

He rose, looking around. He couldn't find the others, or, more importantly, his bike. But he did find some strange wreckage scattered all over.

"Mr. Gordon?" Vinnie heard a voice shout that sounded like Throttle's.

Vinnie waited, noticing a black clad figure stirring some ways away. He rushed to the figure, expecting to see Throttle, and he was not disappointed. Though something seemed different.

Vinnie shook his head as he helped Throttle to stand. Somehow, besides the massive change in landscape, Throttle had changed as well. At least his clothes. Instead of his familiar black vest, he wore a kind of suit and a long black overcoat. Though, Vinnie noted, he still wore his red bandanna around his neck. Throttle bent to retrieve a strange looking hat, dusted it off, and plopped it on his head.

"What happened?" Vinnie asked. "I mean, where're Limburger's goons? And the others?"

"What others?" Throttle asked. "Are you feeling all right? That blow from the crash must have scrambled your brains."

Vinnie paused. "What crash? The last thing I remember is fighting Limburger."

"Never mind," Throttle said. "We should head back to town. Loveless will no doubt try something."

Vinnie did not say anything, instead he followed Throttle.

"You're quiet," Throttle said.

"Just thinking," Vinnie replied. The truth, for once. He tried desperately to figure out what had happened and how to get back to Chicago.

"Thinking about building another flying machine?"

Vinnie paused. "No."

"Then what? Vincenzo, ol' boy, I know we didn't get along when we first met," Throttle said, stopping suddenly. "But I thought we had gotten past that?"

"No. No. NO! That's not it! I'm trying to figure out how to get home," Vinnie said irately.

Throttle continued walking. "Once we defeat Loveless, you can return to Washington."

"Don't you mean Chicago?" Vinnie asked.

"Not unless the President decides to transfer you," Throttle said.

"The President?"

Throttle sighed. "I hope your memory comes back soon. There is no way we can defeat Doc Loveless when you can't even remember who or what you are."

They walked on in silence, reaching a ramshackle set of buildings by dusk. People in clothes Vinnie had never seen before walked along the street. And that was all the town seemed to be. One long street with wooden buildings and no sign of cars. Only horses.

Throttle took them to a large building where a lady in a frilly teal dress waited. She reminded Vinnie an awful lot like Charlie. "Hi there, Mr. West, Mr. Gordon, Miss Escobar is waiting to talk to you," she said.

"Thank you kindly, Miss Charlene," Throttle said. "Oh. And if you could be so kind as to find Mr. Gordon a new set of clothing, I'd much appreciate it."

"The flying machine didn't work?" Miss Charline asked.

Throttle shook his head. "The crash did something to Vincenzo," he said in hushed tones. "He can't remember who he is or where he is."

Miss Charlene nodded slowly, smiling sweetly toward Vinnie. "I understand." She raised her voice slightly. "Go on in. Can't keep Miss Escobar waiting."

Throttle dipped his hat toward Miss Charlene before entering. Vinnie only stood, mouth agape before following Throttle.

He stopped at the entrance. Then it hit him. The clothes. The names. Why things weren't quite right.

"This is the Wild Wild West," Vinnie said softly. "I'm in the movie!"

"Vincenzo?" Throttle's shout broke Vinnie's thoughts. He went to the bar to join Throttle and half smiled. The lady behind the bar could have been mistaken for no one except Mari.

"Miss Escobar here has a set of clothes she figures should fit," Throttle said.

"My husband . . . died a few years ago. You are about his build and height," Miss Escobar said. "It's about time someone put them to good use."

Vinnie said nothing as Miss Escobar, he had a hard time thinking of her as anyone but Mari, led him to an upstairs room.

"You'll find his clothes in there," she said, ducking into another room.

Vinnie peeked in, watching as Miss Escobar went to a wooden crib, taking a small child out.

She turned with a start and a blush. "Snowfall here is the last thing I have left. Please, Mr. Gordon. Don't let Loveless or his boss take my saloon."

"Don't worry, Mari-girl, I won't," Vinnie said, going to Snowfall and ruffling her hair.

"Mari-girl?" Miss Escobar said quizzically. "You know full well my name is Miss Marietta Escobar." She replaced Snowfall back into the crib before turning with a huff out the door. He could hear her stomp down the stairs.

Sighing, he went to the room she had indicated and searched through the wardrobe. Not much of a selection, he mused. It seemed that Mari . . . Miss Escobar's husband wore nothing but grey and black's. Sighing, he selected a black suit and changed. He wadded his own pants up, wondering where to set them. Shrugging he tossed them on the bed, making sure his bandolier was securely fastened. He may have to dress the part, but he would not leave unprepared. Lastly he plopped the derby on his head. A fitting touch.

"If I'm Artemus Gordon, and Throttle is Jim West, and Mari is Rita Escobar, then who is Charlie? One of those no-name characters in the background?" Vinnie mused, folding his arms across his chest. "Then who is Doc Loveless and his boss? Doc . . . Karbunkle? And Limburger? But where does Modo fit into this?"

Vinnie let his gaze wander around the room, shocked when he found a picture of Miss Escobar and her husband. Who looked a lot like him. 'At least this movie has some reality to it,' he mused.

Laying next to the picture was a gun. Old. Like in the movie. He strapped it on and admired himself in the mirror. His laser on one side and the old six shooter on the left. Ready to do battle with Loveless.

Vinnie made his way down the stairs, now fully paying attention to the scenery. This saloon did remind him of the one in the movie. A lot. The tables, chairs, the girls near the bar. One Charlie, one Mandy, and the other he did not know. He searched the room, declining a drink when Miss Amanda (he figured since everyone else was going by their full first names) offered him a drink.

He scanned the room, chuckling. There, in the corner, a large cowboy hat dipped over his eyes, one covered with a patch, cards in hand, was Modo. 'At least I know where we all are,' Vinnie thought.

A low rumble brought his attention to the screams that began outside. He ran to the door, Throttle close on his heels, Miss Escobar there as well.

"Loveless will stop at nothing to destroy my business," Miss Escobar said. "Please, stop him. Stop his mechanical spider."

Throttle dipped his hat, cringing when a blast from the creature demolished a building. The same one that had earned Vinnie a full body tackle from Mari in the theater. The one that almost got them kicked out.

"How are we going to stop that?" Throttle asked, pushing Vinnie out the door.

Vinnie paused. "Well, if someone could get inside and destroy it from there, it would work."

"You sound so sure, how do you know?" Throttle asked.

"Been there, done that," Vinnie said with a lopsided grin. "Never mind," he added at Throttle's Quirinal look.

"How are we going to get inside?"

Vinnie scanned the buildings. "Leave this to me, just get its attention."

"Easy for you," Throttle said, leaping to a horse. He wheeled the frightened horse, dashing to the center of the street. "All right, Loveless," he called. "You want me, come and get me."

The spider paused. "Throttle West," a thin, high pain-sounding voice wheezed. "So? Where is your partner?"

"Indisposed," Throttle said. "It's just you and me."

Vinnie cringed at an explosion, checking on Throttle. He breathed a sigh of relief when both Throttle and his horse remained unharmed, though the horse bolted, Throttle hanging on tight.

Though that was the least of Vinnie's concerns, he mused as he leapt onto one of the metal legs of the spider. Loveless' voice could belong to only one villain he knew of. Karbunkle.

Vinnie edged his way along the leg, finding a space in the plating. He slipped inside, remembering the last time he had tried this with the snow suckers. Then he had his bike. Now he had nothing. No way down except to jump.

"A heroes work is never done," he muttered, carefully making his way along the mass of gears and bars. He ducked, just as a blast of steam shot from a pipe. He climbed the ladder before him, pausing to hang on as the spider trembled. A muffled explosion made Vinnie worry. Both for Throttle, and the saloon.

Vinnie paused at the top of the stairs. There, seated in a strange wheeled chair, adorned in black with a tall black hat had to be Loveless.

"All right, Karbunkle," Vinnie said, laser drawn. "Stop this spider right now."

The figure turned, Karbunkle, as Vinnie had guessed, gasped in shock. "How did you get in here?"

"Same faulty construction as before," Vinnie said. "Dontcha ever learn?"

"Nevertheless, Mr. Gordon. You shall not win. I shall have that saloon." Karbunkle wheeled forward, much to Vinnie's surprise.

"I guess it's fitting," he mumbled. "Crippled like the rest of your 'experimented' fighters.'

Vinnie fired, missing Karbunkle Loveless and striking the control panel.

"No!" Karbunkle shouted. "My beautiful Tarantula."

"Bail time," Vinnie said, scaling down the ladder. He cursed when the spider jolted and he lost his footing. He grimaced as he hit the metal floor, his arm blazing with fire.

Holding onto his no doubt broken arm, he made his way to the outer plate. The spider shifted again, throwing him off the leg. Vinnie cursed as the ground rushed to meet him. He felt the ground slam into him, blacking out.

"He's coming to," a familiar female voice said.

"Throttle," a different female said. "He's going to be all right."

Vinnie cracked an eye open. His body ached, especially his arm. He sighed at a cool cloth on his face. "He still has a fever, though," the first female said.

"Miss Charlene, Miss Marietta," Vinnie weakly said. "Did we win?"

"Marietta! Marietta!" the first voice cried. "You know I hate that name!"

Vinnie opened his eyes, half smiling to himself. "I'm back."

"Of course you are, bro," Throttle said.

"You scared us big time," Charlie said.

Vinnie sighed. "I was in the movie. You were Throttle West, I was Vincenzo Gordon, you were Miss Charlene and Miss . . . Um . . . "he stammered when he noticed out of the corner of his gaze Mari fuming silently. "And, um, Modo was there in the saloon, and Snowfall, and Miss . . . Escobar's husband looked like me . . . and Arliss Loveless was Karbunkle."

"I think the wall did more damage than we thought," Charlie said. "He's hallucinating."

"Am not," Vinnie said, wincing in pain. "At least, not now. Man, what happened."

"I shouted for you to look out," Mari said, her anger abated. "But you didn't hear. Karbunkles machine nuked a building and buried you and your bike. We finally got you dug out and retreated."

Vinnie tried to chuckle. "And the last thing I remember, besides fighting Limburger's goons, is the spider falling on me."

"That musta been some blow," Throttle said with a chuckle. "You can tell us all later."

"Right now, you've got to rest," Mari said, going to his side. "You really did have us all worried."

Vinnie smiled. "Didn't think you really cared, sweetheart. Not after the movie."

"Oh, don't worry 'bout that," Mari said with a half smile. " 'Sides, you can tell us all later, when you're up to it. Right now I've got to go check on Snowfall."

Vinnie slowly nodded, closing his eyes. Chuckling to himself he sighed, falling into a deep sleep. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could hear Doc Loveless' high wheezing voice mocking him. Declaring revenge.

Vinnie pushed the thought from his mind. The Wild Wild West would remain untamed for now. Now he would dream pleasant thoughts. Like the latest copy of Biker Babes from Baltimore.

~ Finis ~