A Night to Relax
By Nathan Stanley
Email: stanley-n001@mymail.mssu.edu
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron and its characters
are trademarks of Hanna-Barbera.
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It was calm. It was a very soothing night in Megakat City. No criminals were
at large, none of the nightclubs were open, and as an added rare sight, the
mayor was actually doing paperwork for once (although he needed Callie’s
expertise on some of it due to it being paying the bills). David Litterbin had
taken an off day from his show to get away from the stress, so Jake had let
Chance watch Scaredy-Kat. Jake himself had been lying on the couch taking a
catnap. Yes, it was a calm night. Perhaps it was too calm. Who knew?
At his dorm in Enforcer HQ, Commander Feral had not been so calm. He was currently
watching the TV as well and seeing his favorite roller derby team, the Los Angeles
Lightning Cats, beat the heck out of the San Francisco Bombshells. The Lightning
Cats were leading by 20 points at the end of seventh period (out of eight).
Felina came in to the dorm to see her uncle applauding his heroes on the banked
Masonite track.
“Lightning Cats winning, Uncle?” she asked.
“Yes, by 20 points, Felina,” Feral smiled. “Ah, this is a
great night to watch them. No criminal acts, and no problems with the criminals
we have. Or are there?”
“Nope,” Felina shook her head. “Dark Kat is anything but chatty
tonight. He seems to have accepted the fact you just cannot get around the laws
of crime and punishment no matter how hard you try.”
“That’s true,” said Feral. “Oh, here comes the eighth
period.”
“There’s eight periods in roller derby? I always forget that.”
“It is true that since each period has 12 minutes in it, you might lose
focus just after a while, but I don’t. I am with the Lightning
Cats from soup to nuts.” (1)
“Who are they playing tonight?”
“The San Francisco Bombshells. They are a team I respect for being last
year’s champions, but they can’t handle the power of the Lightning
Cats tonight. Whoo!” Feral exclaimed just in time to see his hero, Sammy
Sanders, a.k.a. the Super Bolt, score a total of five points in the first jam
of the eighth period and still attempt to lap the pack again for more points.
(Remember, this is classic roller derby rules from the 1950s and 60s these
teams are playing by here, so this is on a banked track, and only the jammers
can score and they score one point for every opponent they pass. Passing all
five opponents scores five points, but that is as difficult to achieve as hitting
a grand slam home run in baseball. Super Bolt was making the difficult look
effortless, however.)
Meanwhile, back at the hangar, Jake and Chance felt bored. They enjoyed their
chances to relax, but sometimes had a craving for action in fighting the bad
guys. And, tonight, it felt that crime was intentionally taking a holiday. Seeing
as how late it was, Jake felt ready to go to bed.
Then Chance noticed the radio was unplugged. “Hey, Jake,” he called,
motioning over to his best friend. “Here’s the problem.” He
plugged in the radio and soon loud rock music was blaring out of the speakers.
Chance turned down the volume so that he and his pal wouldn’t go deaf.
“Yeah,” Jake smiled. “That’s what we need to make this
boring night entertaining. Hey, you want to play cribbage?”
“You bet, buddy,” Chance nodded. “Haven’t played that
in a while. Crime’s taking a vacation tonight, and Scaredy Kat’s
finished, so I’m happy to have turned on the radio.”
“No doubt about it. Nothing satisfies a dull, quiet night like rock-and-roll
on the radio. I mean, there’s almost nothing worth
watching on television. Besides, more cats in this town listen to the radio
than watch TV.” Jake got out the props needed to play cribbage, and they
sat down to play.
As for Feral and Felina, both spent the rest of night celebrating the Lightning
Cats dropping the bomb on the Bombshells, 56-29.
THE END
(1) This phrase means, “from the very beginning to the very end.”