Quartet stood on top of Bart's truck, humming an eager tune that spun the boating hat on his head. It was almost time for the lead racers to appear, and Quartet couldn't wait to spring the trap. The others below seemed to feel the same, the players and NPCs hopping from foot to foot as they watched the road ahead of them. Any minute now, the racers would come out of the turn and onto the straightaway toward the skyscraper.
Again Bart tried to hand a coat to Quartet, the minion refusing with a shake of his head. He wasn't about to wear the jacket those three idiots got for him. Faded leather clashed with his gentlemanly image. After all, Quartet considered himself a better Dr. Zlo, classier in every way. He couldn't look like some punk off the street.
The sound of rumbling engines pricked Quartet's ears, putting the minion's full attention on the street ahead.
"They're coming," he said. "Get ready!"
Bart whooped in exultation, revving the truck's engine to signal their advance. Dr. Zlo had procured a simple flatbed for the villain, who instantly used his power to turn the vehicle into a modified offroading menace. The tire frame had changed to lift the car off the ground like a monster truck, and a roll cage appeared on the back. To top it off, the entire truck took the appearance of rusty metal, as if someone had driven the car for too long without maintenance.
Quartet stood on the back of the truck, holding onto one of the roll cage bars as Bart lurched the vehicle forward. Jacques on either side revved their motorcycles, falling in behind the driver with clubs at the ready. Quartet shook his head as he split into four, humming an intense tune that picked up a dust storm around them. Leatherface and Fleshgrabber whooped in concert, pointing assault rifles to the air and letting them loose. They, too, stood on Bart's truck, the players standing beside a mounted machine gun they had under a tarp.
"It's raiding time, boys!" Leatherface roared gleefully.
Players around him cheered, all recruited by the apocalypse trio for this assault. Dr. Zlo had reached out to the three through his minion Saul, the greasy man offering them a deal if they helped hinder the racing competition. It didn't take much convincing; Leatherface and Fleshgrabber were already wondering if it would be fine to interrupt the race. After all, what was a cross-city race without a bit of danger from outside forces?
Dr. Zlo thought so as well, helping the three recruit a few like-minded others. They would all work to eliminate the competition. Or at least most of it. Dr. Zlo had pulled the three players to the side after they finished negotiations to add a caveat.
"Make sure that the one called Valiant makes it through," the villain said at a half-whisper. "I have other plans in store for him."
"Now, hold on," Leatherface raised a hand. "You can't be expecting us to make promises like that. You're hiring us to make some chaos, so chaos is what we plan to make."
"I assure you, make as much chaos as you want," Dr. Zlo said, spreading his arms wide in acceptance. "Just, try not to focus on Valiant. I can't have my nemesis fall so easily. It would ruin the story I have in mind."
Bart looked questioningly at the villain, "Story?"
"That's right," Dr. Zlo nodded. The villain brought his cane up as if directing the players to a whiteboard, "You see. Valiant is someone who's been against me since the very beginning of my illustrious career. He's the one who assaulted my first mansion, trying to take me down before I grew too large."
Dr. Zlo shook his head, "It didn't work, of course. My genius cannot be denied by some puny attack. But it did make the hero a thorn in my side. A thorn that grew more agitating as time passed. Did you know he brought an entire faction of heroes to stop me at Haven City?"
"Yeah, we were there," Fleshgrabber answered.
Dr. Zlo blinked, "So you were. Then you understand how positively asinine the hero is. Coming in, trying to stop me with well thought out plans."
Cars were rushing at the boatmobile, vehicles of all shapes and sizes looking like they jumped straight out of a Mad Max film. Cars, their chassis raised high on large tires, roared at Riptide while motorcycles carrying two to three people weaved between them. Players crawled around the vehicles like spider monkeys, firing guns into the air.
Bullets pinged off the boatmobile's chassis as the raiders rushed forward, forcing G.W. to duck behind the windshield. Riptide didn't bother, his helmet protecting him from the assault.
"Oh! Not cool dudes!" Riptide shouted at the raiders. "We're trying to have a race here!"
One of the raiders replied, laughing like a hyena, "And we're one of the obstacles! Better hope your car doesn't get scrapped!"
A grenade bounced onto the boatmobile, Riptide noticing the act a second too late. Luckily, the thrower hadn't cooked the grenade correctly. The explosive bounced off the car onto the street behind, releasing a cloud of shrapnel between Riptide and the skateboarder. The two racers recoiled from the blast, Riptide feeling the sharp metals impacting his protective shield.
The skateboarder reacted by jumping with his board, letting the grenade's payload smack against the underside of his "car." The player had made sure to protect his vehicle as best he could. He'd assumed someone would attack with weapons during the race. In fact, the invitation had explicitly stated weapons would be legal.
The raiders passed by Riptide and the skateboarder, turning hard to keep up with the two leaders. Other raiders, waiting on the wings, rushed out at that moment to pin their prey.
"G.W., make us a tornado outta here!" Riptide shouted. If his minion had enough time, he could make a big enough gust of wind for Riptide to surf. Then no one would be able to catch him, and he'd be home free.
"Take the wheel and buy me some time," G.W. answered.
The minion let go of the wheel and dove to the side, Riptide jumping over him to take over. G.W. started to form a tornado, using the wind powers at his disposal. The wind formed up in front of the boatmobile, growing bigger and bigger as G.W. focused. Then, all at once, the tornado died, the winds breaking apart.
"You aren't getting away that easily," a resonant voice spoke.
Riptide looked out his rearview mirror to see four men in pinstripe suits and boating hats standing on top of a truck. The four looked to be related, each one with the same face on different bodies. Riptide blinked in surprise. That was Dr. Zlo's minion!
"That cheater," Riptide muttered under his breath. More playful than upset. Riptide knew Dr. Zlo wouldn't take getting beat lightly and probably prepared all sorts of traps along the way for racers to encounter.
"You think your powers are greater than mine?" G.W. shouted up at Quartet. The minion didn't take kindly to someone removing his tornado.
"Obviously," Quartet answered derisively. The minion hummed another tune, the air and dust around him forming into blades that he sent right at G.W.
The shark minion answered in kind, conjuring a pillow of air between him and Quartet. Air struck air, sending the dust inside blasting outward like the grenade from earlier. G.W. and Quartet eyed each other, the two minions thinking of ways to beat the other.
"Looks like I can't get us out of this with a simple tornado," G.W. said to Riptide.
"Don't worry, dude," Riptide said, smiling under his helmet. "I'm sure this will be fun!"