Dawn of the Personality-Challenged Power Rangers
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Peter Paul and Mary/Gary.

A/N: Thanks so much for reviewing! I'll continue to write full steam ahead!

Chapter 21: Plan of No Action

Sky did his job well; within the next two days, he had brought eight patrols to tears of misery and despair. At that point, I suspected that they were ready to talk. This suspicion was confirmed when they grouped together and came to our cell, on their hands and knees, begging for a ceasefire. I, of course, was the best choice to lead the negotiations (okay, so I won rock-paper-scissors, but they should have known that I was unbeatable!)

"So," I began, sitting nefariously in the cell (well okay, I was sitting on Sky's back, who was acting as chair…I told him it was knight training) and looking down on the pitiful defeated. "You want to negotiate, huh?"

"Yes, please," they meekly replied. One of the bulkier ones in the back burst into tears.

"What are your terms of surrender?"

They looked confused. "I dunno, I mean, we just want him," the officer who spoke for the group pointed at a happy and oblivious Sky, "to stop singing."

"We'll do anything!" Screamed the bulky crying one. There were several vigorous nods of agreement.

I gave a cat-like smile. "Anything, huh?" I leaned forward towards the spokes-officer, peering evilly over my steepled fingers. "I want information."

He gulped.

"…Okay."

After some lengthy agreement talks, we settled on a new system: Sky would be silent, and in exchange, they would spy on the food supply and all those with access to it. They weren't even sorry, they were just grateful that they could continue their days in peace.

The Rangers (sans Bridge) were just peeved that they were still there.

"I'm so bored!" Screeched Sydney on the third day. "I've missed out on three rallies, two pet adoptions, and one Peter Paul and Gary concert! AND I missed the Locks for Lobsters donations!"

"Well I missed the Andrew Lloyd Webber documentary, so stop you're mutterings, foul maiden."

"How dare you address my client that way!"

"Client? I don't hire lawyers, you guys kill baby harp seals!"

"We most certainly do NOT!"

"Oh yeah? I'll bet you don't kill bunnies either, you bunny-killing-"

"Excuse me?"

"Yes!" I jumped at the interruption, desperate for some intervention. It was on of the guards from the negotiations; he looked nervous.

"Um...so, we have some information for you...sir."

"Proceed," I granted regally.

"Look, I mean, it's not much but it's something, I guess. But we heard one of the cafeteria staff saying that there were some things moved around in the kitchen. I mean, it was first thing in the morning, and they hadn't touched anything since they had locked up last night, so..."

"What was moved around?"

"Um, just some spices, a couple of cans, and some tea leaves. We don't know what spices, but apparently the cans were full of kiwis."

"They can kiwis?" Jack looked confused.

I nodded grimly. "Oh yes. In this day and age, I've even seen koala snot canned."

"Ewwww!" Shrieked Sid. "Seriously?"

"...No, not really. But that would be cool."

"Define 'cool'."

"Cool: adjective. Used to describe-"

"Never mind."

I shrugged. "Okay."

"So basically, there's nothing really solid yet, but we're still working on it, I swear!"

"I believe you." Good cop WIN.

"So...I'm just going to...um, leave now..." He took his leave, a little awkwardly. I turned to my fellow cohorts and rubbed my hands together."

"Okay, so we have spices, kiwis, and tea leaves. Any connections?"

"Um...well, without really knowing what spices were taken or what kind of tea, I don't see how we can draw any solid conclusions. We have no solid leads."

"Okay, Z. Anyone else?"

"Yeah." I was surprised at how serious Sky sounded; it was almost like he was normal again!...You know, without the sequins on his uniform..."A lot of teas have leaves such as catnip in them, and I heard that cats love kiwis..."

"...So you're saying a cat has been poisoning us? Good one, stupid."

"It is NOT stupid! I was watching Cats the other night and-"

"You know, I can't take anything you say seriously anymore. I'd have better luck trying to drag an animal rights bill out of Dick Cheney-"

"Dick Cheney lived like a hundred years ago!"

"...Um, Syd, he's still alive. He's retired."

"Well...your face!"

"Wha? That makes no sense-"

"Neither does your fac-"

"WE GET IT," Jack yelled.

"Okay, so we've got cats and not enough evidence. Anything else?"

"Yeah, when do we get fed around here?"

"...THAT is a very good question."

"Ha. I'd trust SPD's food now about as much as that slop that PIGGY serves."

Somewhere in the vast city of Newtech, Piggy sneezed.

"Ouch. That seems a little extreme, Syd."

"No, poaching baby pandas is extreme, Bridge. This is just reality."

"...You know I can't take you seriously when you're doing interpretive dance, right?"

"It's not an interpretive dance! It's a tribute to the Iguana Gods!"

Dear God (not the lizard-y one), PLEASE let us find our poisoner soon.

A/N: Thoughts? Questions? Suggestions? Toss me a line and tell me what you thought!