AN: NoDrog put a certain challenge up at the Haven and people have been asking me to do a Ron-centric story. Well, here it is and be careful what you ask for in the future. Legal Stuff at bottom.

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Nightmare of Ecstasy: The Strange Life and Fate of Ron Stoppable

By SHADO Commander

Chapter 1 – Ticket 9 From the Kleen & Preen

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It all started innocently enough.

Well, okay, not really completely innocently, but as innocently as anything could ever start when it came to the world of Ron Stoppable. After all, when you hang with a girl who became a vigilante while still in braces and routinely rub shoulders with secret agents and supervillains, the word innocent takes on a slightly different meaning… and he WAS guilty, in a way, of the instigating incident and perhaps not doing everything he could do to forestall the inevitable disaster…

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"No Ron! No!" Kim yelled, as she realized that Ron's trajectory was going to take him directly underneath the very huge and very wobbly tank of some kind of chemical, "Run the other…!"

"What?" Ron boggled, reversing course a fraction of a second too late. Damn it, why did he always forget that while Drakken laid out his lairs using very logical wheel and spoke configurations, Dementor favored counterclockwise spirals. As a result, Ron had just zagged when he should have zigged and…

"…way!" Kim finished desperately as she saw her best friend's foot kick against one of the flimsy struts holding the tank in place.

The ensuing panic as Dementor's henchmen simultaneously and instantaneously abandoned both their pursuit of the blonde teen and their attempts to fight off Kim, all making beelines for the exits, told the tale without words… although there were still quite a few "Oh Shits!" and "Aieeee!"s for color. This was going to be Bad with three extra 'b's and 'a's with the 'd' being the grade of survivability. Like a 900 year old man leaning over to pick up his remote off the carpet, the tank made a horrific creaking sound and then, slowly but surely, began to cant forwards precariously until…

"RON!" Kim screamed as she leapt forward, shoving her friend out of the way with a massive body slam that propelled Ronald's bug-eyed body out of the way in the nick of time. Unfortunately, that same slam had the effect of completely canceling Kim's own bodily inertia, and her scream blended in horrific harmony with the screech of the twisting metal as the bolted seams of the giant container ruptured in a nightmarish black torrent that engulfed the heroine.

"KIM!" Ron yelled in horror as he saw the vile wave of darkness strike his partner, bowling her off of her feet. He was racing forward even as he dreaded the sight of the caustic chemicals dissolving her flesh, but what he actually saw was even more horrifying!

Kim Possible was a light skinned redhead with a predilection for midriff baring outfits, but the solid black figure that rose out of the inky lake of black ooze surrounding Dementor's latest demented device was, well, black. What unspeakable monstrosity had the chemical ooze mutated her into?

"Kim…?" Ron began, but was silenced by a slim raven-hued hand that flew up in the long established sign language that he knew all too well from the miserable period when they had been dating to mean "Don't Say ONE Word." It was eerie, seeing those olive eyes he knew so well peering out of this strange black Kim-shaped figure, looking suspiciously like the Martian in those old Roger Rabbit cartoons. And she was miming something at him… something about putting a banana in her ear? Using a pocket calculator?

"Kimmunicator, Ron! Call Wade!" Kim finally gave up and erupted, gagging and spitting as the foul tasting piceous substance crept into the edges of her mouth. "Gah! Ptooi! Oh, God, that's awful. Mine's covered in ink."

Ink? Oh yes, now that Ron thought about it, Drakken's device DID look remarkably like a printing press. And that inky lake would, in fact, be…

"JUST CALL HIM!" Kim screamed, jerking him out of his stupor! "Call him, beep him, and find out what will get this fucking stuff OFF ME!"

Okay, possibly it was mind altering ink, Ron thought, as Kim Possible never swore… well, not since they'd been dating, anyway, although judging by the way she was heading towards him with her hands in an apparent throat-throttling position… also rather like the last days of their dating… perhaps he'd better just call Wade and let HIM handle it. He could do that while running and come back and pick up Rufus… who was still somewhere in the lair's ventilation system… later.

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Fortunately, it turned out that it was 'just' ink. Apparently Dementor, in a typical burst of brilliant but logistically backwards supervillain methodology, had been printing fake business cards, fake pamphlets… even signs for fake yard sales… all of which shared the same phone number, one that actually connected to a server that downloaded a virus designed to make smart phones report only the information he wanted them to. For once, Wade was actually the one to be the hero, solving the issue by the simple means of writing an anti-virus then back-tracking the origin using one of his special virus immune systems and wiping Dementor's bug of every server or computer that it had ever come into contact with.

"Fortunately I just had to do the same thing with our family reunion photos, so the code was mostly written," the teen genius had gloated as he finished his cleanup of Dementor's digital detritus. "Oh, and I had one of my Wadebots pick up Rufus. He's a little irritated at being left behind, but understands given the urgency of the situation."

Of course, that urgency referred to the more literal part of the cleanup, which was proving to be no simple task. While the good news was that the ink was just ink, it was STILL ink and Kim had become a human Rorschach test, a feminine ink blotter soaked to capacity with the stuff. So, after sponging Kim down with some old Henchco coveralls they found, then scavenging several old newspapers to line the Sloth, they had driven to the nearest SmartyMart, where Ron ran in and used his employee discount to purchase all of the cleaning chemicals that Wade recommended, as well a large supply of cheap rags normally used for cleaning cars, while Kim lay concealed and congealing in the car under a covering of even more newspapers.

Next stop: Ron's house.

"Wait… why MY house?" Ron had complained at first. "If we get any ink on the carpet…"

He cut himself off as he saw the baleful green glare oozing out of Kim's otherwise void-like countenance.

"First," Kim replied blackly, counting out the reasons with ebony fingers. "Because I'm not checking into a hotel with anybody, even under a fake name, and I wouldn't do that to a maid anyway. Second, because there's no way I'm taking a chance on the Tweebs spotting me like this and posting embarrassing photos on the internet, third, because after spending several hours scrubbing this stuff off of me, the last thing I'm going to want to do is spend another hour scrubbing my shower afterwards, fourth because you have your own private shower in your room, and fifth, Ron, because you owe me big for this one. You zagged…"

"When I should have zigged! I know, I know!" Ron agreed quickly, a bit unnerved by how satanic his friend's eyes and white teeth appeared when floating by themselves in a field of black, and even more by the fact that the fingers that had counted out those reasons had curled into a fist... and he was all too familiar with what that fist could do.

At least his parents' extremely regular schedule worked in their favor.

"We're in luck," Ron informed obsidi-Kim as he got back to the car. "Mom and Dad are out at their usual line dancing lessons and they left Hana at Cousin Bernice's."

From there, everything went as planned. With a quick glance around to make sure there were no Tweebs or Rockwallers hiding in the bushes, Ron quickly escorted Kim… and the half dozen sheets of newspaper that were now semi-permanently tacked to her skin with the rapidly hardening tacky pigment and bonding agent… around to the backdoor of the house, where he quickly began laying even more sheets of newspaper down in a path leading up to his room and ultimately to his shower.

Well, almost everything went as planned.

As Kim stepped into the shower and began peeling off her clothes, a weird sensation hit Ron as he saw the bra beneath her shirt. It was jet black too. As was every single bit of skin that he could see. And if the bra had been that soaked, then logically the skin beneath that would be pitch black as well. Ever since they had accidentally had their bodies swapped, Kim and Ron had had little body shyness around each other. Ron had sometimes wondered if that had been part of the reason that he and Kim ultimately been unable to work as a couple was that they knew each other TOO well… especially since it had been Kim's time of the month and… well, he still had some issues about that, but the thought of Kim's pale white breasts, her small pink nipples, all dyed into a single uniform shade of onyx… kind of like the ultimate in skin tight leather…

"Igottagogetthecleaningstuff!" Ron blurted, escaping before those thoughts went any further.

"Here you go," he told her a minute later as he passed the large bag of supplies over to her, through the half open door… and promptly undid all of the work he'd done calming himself on trip to the car and back as his evil eyes accidentally roamed down and, even though Kim WAS holding a towel in front of herself, it was clear that the black was everywhere. And if that long, lean lanky side that was showing was that exquisite shade of stygian sable… then that meant that Kim's magnificent rear end would almost certainly look like it had been perfectly fitted with…

"Ron?" The sharp voice barely cut into his musing.

"Uh huh?" He drooled vacantly.

"Does your family shower together?"

"No." Ron blinked stupidly. "Why?"

The green eyes in the night-sky toned face narrowed, reminding Ron that they weren't boyfriend/girlfriend anymore, and that even if they had once swapped bodies, their level of shared intimacy did not include any mutual scrub-a-dub-dubbing.

"oh." Ron gulped. "Right."

Retreating out to his room, he sat on the bed. "So… uh… what do you want me to do?"

"Actually," Kim's voice wafted out, "I think I need you to run another errand."

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"I never even knew there WERE 24 hour dry cleaners," Ron admitted as he handed over the tickets.

"Oh, yes," Diana Propylini, a blonde and attractive teen in a sleek red Ben Zeen's Kleen & Preen jumpsuit, smiled as she stepped back and engaged the motorized overhead hanger system, causing the carousel of plastic garment-bagged suits, dresses and other items to start a counter-clockwise journey about the periphery of the room. "There aren't many, of course, but since we're just down the street from Middleton Hospital and there are certain organic stains that only a good dose of environmentally friendly glycol ethers will handle, we tend to stay pretty busy. Ah! Here we go!"

Bringing the carousel to a stop, Di pulled a half dozen hangers and their hanger-ons out of the rotation and walked back towards Ron and the register.

"Oh, I only need the one… er… two items," the sidekick interrupted, pointing to the last of Kim's old-style mission outfits, which the teen hero had reluctantly agreed to donate to a charity auction and had included in her mother's dry cleaning run in one final attempt to remove the stubborn monkey-initiated stains that had forced its retirement. That had been quite fortuitous for Ron, as he would no doubt have had to find a way to get a clean change of clothes from the Possible residence without attracting the attention of the Tweebs, something that had become increasingly difficult as their ability to produce surveillance systems had blossomed to the point where even a master ninja would have been challenged to get into Kim's room unnoticed. "Just that crop top and the cargo pants."

"Are you sure?" the girl queried questioningly, a quizzical expression on her face. "I mean, sure, I can do it if you want, but these were all brought in on the same ticket… see?"

Ron looked down and realized that she was right. Although each of the claim tickets Kim had told him to fish out of her purse had a separate serial number, each also had a big red stamp reading Order Number 9 stamped on them.

"That means they were brought in using one of our Kleen Living Koupons," Di continued, "So, if you break them up you'll not only have to pay the higher individual rates for these now and the coupons will be invalid when you pick up the others later. You'd end up paying more than double by the time all was said and done."

"oh." Ron thought about it and decided that the last thing he wanted to do given the mood Kim was currently in was to give her any other reason to be irritated with him. "Okay, what do I owe you for the lot?"

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Kim was still in the shower and Ron's Kimmunicator was beeping on the bed when he got back to his house.

"This is the Ron-man," He answered quickly, shifting the bags of dry cleaning from over his shoulder to his bed as a panicked looking Wade appeared on the screen.

"Ron? Is Kim with you? You haven't been answering my calls!"

"She's still in the shower at my place," Ron returned quickly, undoing the little bendy things that held the dry cleaning together in a bunch. "It's really hard to hear anything in there and I didn't think to turn up the ringer when I left my Kimmunicator with her. So, since she's not here to say it, 'What's the sitch?'"

"Do you find that as annoying as I do?" Wade asked unexpectedly.

"Honestly…?" Ron turned and looked at the door, just in case Kim's hearing had suddenly gone bionic. "Yes. But I'll never say it to her face."

"Neither will I," Wade nodded in tacit agreement. "I've seen her when she's ticked. Anyway, here's the deal in a nutshell: Drakken. Shego. The National Ultrasecret Department of Ecentric and Imaginary Engineering Institute. Right now."

"Again? I think Drakken just enjoys making Shego use that acronym," Ron groaned, separating the bags that held Kim's mission uniform from the others and walking to the shower door before yelling. "KIM! We've got a mission!"

"Oh FUCK!" Came the reply. Obviously things hadn't been going well. "Do you have my clothes?"

"Right here!" Ron responded.

The door opened a crack and a mostly pink arm reached out. Mostly, because there were still one or two small stains on the arm itself, but the fingernails… or more precisely, the area underneath… looked like Kim had been clawing at a huge bar of licorice. It was pretty… pretty disgusting.

"Okay, reach into my purse and bring me my cosmetics bag," Kim ordered as she handed back the empty hangers. Ron obediently ran the errand and came back to find a mostly dressed Kim staring in the mirror with what could almost be tears. Not that Ron could blame her. Besides the fingernails, the areas around Kim's eyes were still darkly splotched, as were her lips. And then there was her hair, which was still streaked with tiger stripes of black.

"Anything's possible for a Possible…" She mumbled under her breath and Ron watched in amazement as the array of cosmetics that Kim rarely wore were wielded by the hand of a master with amazing speed. A concealer and base covered all but the worst of it, and heavier than usual blush, eye makeup and lipstick did for the rest. Mascara, on the other hand, was quite unnecessary.

"Well?" The teen hero asked as she turned back to Ron. "Will it pass?"

"You look great," Ron swore, and it really wasn't a lie given that the extra layer cosmetics actually made Kim seem just a bit more 'mature,' which when put together with the accidental punk-style streaking of her hair that gave her a bit more of an 'edge' and the fact that she very, VERY obviously wasn't wearing her still ink-soaked bra under the old and now a bit over-tight mission top, all combined to make his friend look less like Kim Possible and more like a high-paid prostitute who specialized in pretending to be Kim Possible. However, since telling Kim THAT probably wouldn't be good for Ron's dental health, he decided to leave it at that and finish with the one question he did have. "What about your fingernails?"

Kim held up a bottle of deep green nail polish in answer, somewhat assured by Ron's words. "This ought to be dark enough to hide the stains, but my gloves will hide them for now. Now let's get a move on before She... I mean THEY escape."

"Your chariot awaits, me lady," Ron confirmed as together they dashed out the door.

And thirty minutes later, the event that would change Ron's life forever occurred.

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"Ronald?" Nonah Jean Stoppable's voice came from outside the shut door. "We stopped by SmartyMart and they were having a super sale on toilet paper. Your father could use some help bringing them all in."

"Ronald?"

After another long minute, the door opened and Nonah "Nonnie" Stoppable poked her head cautiously inside, 'tsk'ing as she saw the still burning light in the corner that had led her and her husband Nathaniel Gene to assume that their workhorse of a son was home as they came up the driveway. Well, Nat would have to unload all those 50 packs of single-ply, 2000 sheets into the garage by himself and she'd be sure to give Ronald a scolding when he got home. His father might make a good living as an actuary, but that didn't mean the family had money to throw away on lights that nobody was using!

Having grown up with multiple brothers, she knew that boy's rooms inevitably held surprises that most female eyes would prefer not to discover, and by unspoken agreement, she and Nat normally maintained a practical policy of only entering Ronald's room when he was present. However, the irritation over the matter of the lamp quickly overrode her natural inclination to not step into her son's zone of privacy, and with sure, swift steps she skirted around the dirty laundry as she moved to extinguish the bedside lamp that had been missed in Ron and Kim's hasty exit, Nonnie was about to shut if off… when something else caught her eye.

Dry cleaning? And more than that, dry cleaning that hadn't been done at her cousin Bernice's shop? What in the world…?

And then Nonnie's perception of the universe shifted underneath her as she realized that the clothing was women's clothing. And not just that… as she picked up the bags and looked at the contents, it was VERY obvious that the items inside didn't belong to Ron's friend Kim. For one thing, these weren't exactly the kind of clothes that teenage girls normally wore, and as she further examined them, she saw that they had been tailored for a more mature figure. A TALLER mature figure.

If Nonnie had found Jacques Cousteau, in full wetsuit and aqua-lung, sitting on Ron's bed, she couldn't have been more pole-axed. Just what did this mean? She'd been worrying about Ronald ever since he and Kim had decided to stop dating and go back to being 'just friends,' and the fact that she really didn't know why they had broken up had only compounded it. So to find evidence of a very different kind of feminine presence in his room was baffling. A presence of which she knew absolutely nothing! Who had he…? When had he…? And why was it so perfectly pressed and kept when most of his clothes spent weeks on the floor before finally making their journey to the laundry room downstairs?

As if drawn by a magnet, Nonnie found herself pulled towards her son's private bath.

It was a disgrace, of course, with towels and cleaning items strewn everywhere, but her natural ire over that was swallowed in the ocean of emotions that raced through her body as she saw the cosmetics still lying out on the bathroom sink, and the black lingerie hanging over the curtain rod.

Her senses reeling, Nonnie backed out of the bath and then out of her son's room. She didn't even remember to turn off the light.

Her son had been keeping a secret from her. One that she had never even imagined in her most bizarre dreams… and yet the evidence was all there.

Ron Stoppable… her son… was a cross dresser.

To Be Continued In The Next Chapter… THAT SINISTER URGE

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Legal stuff!: Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Rufus, Dr. Dementor, Dr. Draken, Shego, Hana Stoppable, Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable, SmaryMart and Henchco are all borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe, the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and trademarks of the Disney media organizations. The senior Stoppable's full names are subject to conjecture, so I've incoporated the most common fanon names with ones I feel fit better in the context of the show: Nat Stoppable and Nonnie Stoppable. For those who haven't caught it, both the story's name and the title of both this and the chapter are references to the legendary Ed Wood. All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. Finally, this story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18