Chapter 496: 196: Iconic Traps From An Iconic Villain

Chapter 196: Iconic Traps From An Iconic Villain

Jack and the skateboarding hero were the two immediately behind Dr. Zlo. Jack's formula one car peeled out, the tires screeching louder than the bass echoing off the arena. The aerodynamic car shot forward, almost catching up to the Zlomobile.

The skateboarder slowed her down.

Once the race started, the hero pushed forward on his motorized skateboard. For a moment, the act looked ridiculous. Then the player grew in size.

A giant man and skateboard now stood behind Dr. Zlo, the hero kicking the ground with enough force to propel him right behind Jack. A tattooed arm reached out, attempting to grab Jack's spoiler for a free burst of speed. Jack jerked her car to the left, slowing her acceleration but escaping the swipe. The skateboard hero kicked forward again, exiting the arena with a smug grin.

"Gee, he's a big one, boss," Cass said.

"The bigger they are, Cass," Dr. Zlo started.

"The more they hurt?" Cass filled in.

"What? No! The harder they fall!" Dr. Zlo snorted and shook his head, "Honestly. Who ever says the bigger they are, the more they hurt? Cass, you have to try and learn idioms at some point."

Dr. Zlo looked back toward the final few racers. Riptide was beside the clown car, the two outlandish vehicles neck and neck as they escaped the arena. Riptide stood on the hood of his car, holding his hands out for balance as he surfed the road. The clown car next to him honked its horn, a ridiculous sound befitting the machine.

Two clowns jumped out of the car, leaping at Riptide to take him down. G.W. smiled, his rows of pearly white shark teeth sparkling at the incoming meal. A small gust of air twisted between the two cars, sucking the clowns toward it and throwing them to the ground. They burst as they landed, streams of confetti and popcorn falling to the ground.

Dr. Zlo refused to comment on the absurd clowns, instead choosing to look at the final two racers. Valiant raced forward in his chrome car, eyes focused as he accelerated through the straightaway. The coffin car moved behind him, dark energies swirling around it as the player on top pushed it faster. Clowns from the racer ahead tried to stop both vehicles, but Valiant simply brought a hand up and blasted his attacker with a disintegration ray. The coffin car ignored the clown, letting it smack into his vehicle like a bug on a windshield. The clown popped, confetti and popcorn showering the coffin but doing nothing to slow it down. In fact, Dr. Zlo thought he could see a clown-shaped head starting to swirl around the coffin.

"Mabel, are you in position?" Dr. Zlo asked after he finished watching the competition.

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It looked for a second like Sweet Dream would follow, the woman not slowing down at all after seeing the trap. To Dr. Zlo's surprise, Jawbreaker popped out of the side of the car and dug his hands into the ground. Sweet Dream turned on a dime but lost most of her speed, Dr. Zlo catching up in moments.

The Zlomobile had no trouble taking the turn. The villain's straighter turning making it impossible for his tires to slip on the oil. Jack followed closely behind, the woman just as knowledgeable about racing as Dylan, perhaps a bit more. Oro wasn't so lucky. The hero found his car sliding across the ground, the oil spill keeping his tires from meeting the road. But the hero didn't overcorrect like the first racer, slowing down enough to recover the car. However, the maneuver cost him speed, and Oro found himself at the back of the pack, the second group coming up behind him.

Riptide, being the inventive person he was, took the turn by surfing the air, performing a corkscrewing loop that brought him down next to Sweet Dream. The skateboarder followed suit, implementing a kickflip over the buildings and landing on the other side. The clown car took the turn by ejecting a line of clowns, the characters linking arms and grabbing onto a nearby streetlight. The clown car whipped around the bend like a stone from a sling, shooting forward at a faster speed than before. Having passed the coffin, Valiant took the turn like Dr. Zlo, gaining a bit of speed as he did. Finally, the coffin came last, the machine ignoring the oil spill completely.

The Jacques didn't like the fact that a car somehow ignored their trap. They wanted carnage, destruction! Angrily, a few of the minions whipped the hose around, spraying gouts of oil at the coffin car to try and blind the driver. Skulls erupted from the coffin, forming a dark umbrella that shoved the oil to one side. The Jacques threw their hoses to the ground as the car passed, upset that they only caused one wreck from that trap.

Dr. Zlo was tied with Riptide and Jack now, Sweet Dream still barely in the lead. But it was clear the woman's candy car was working overtime to keep up the lead.

"I think she's waiting for the turns up ahead, boss," Cass spoke up. "It seems her car will do its best there."

"Well, then," Dr. Zlo said. "Let's see how well she turns now."

Dr. Zlo flipped a switch on his steering wheel, grinning as a trigger mechanism rose out of a compartment nearby. A targeting reticule appeared on the windshield center, with an ammo bar forming on the bottom left. Dr. Zlo's headlights flashed and rotated on the front of the car, revealing the two laser cannons he'd created for the race.

"No hard feelings, Sweet Dream," Dr. Zlo said as he rested his hand on the trigger. "Just accept the fact you've lost to a better villain."

Dr. Zlo pulled the trigger, the lasers charging a pulse to shoot right at Sweet Dream's bumper. But right as the lasers shot out, a gust of wind pushed Dr. Zlo off course. The lasers went wide, striking a nearby building and blasting rubble onto the street.

"What!" Dr. Zlo exclaimed as his hands gripped the steering wheel. He steadied the car, only to feel another blast of wind hit him. Growling, Dr. Zlo turned to see Riptide at his side, G.W. conjuring small tornadoes as Riptide drove.

"Cass!" the villain roared. "Deal with our pesky interloper!"

"You got it, boss!" Cass said, pulling out some of his booze grenades.

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