Brain worm, gah! Must start getting it out before it eats me! Seriously though this story won't leave me alone. It only popped up a few days ago and isn't fully formed yet so I only have a very basic idea of where it's going but sometimes stories need have the freedom to just tell themselves!

Any why Irma? Because I always loved her in the 1980's cartoon. I thought she was smart (isn't everyone who wears glasses?) and it wasn't until I got a bit older that I realised she got a bit of a bum deal. Clumsy, dowdy and nerdy next to glamorous 'news reporter' April. Stuck with Vern a lot of the time and forced to listen to the condescending whinge bag. Boy crazy and so desperate for a boyfriend she crushes on anything that moves. Then eventually she gets phased out of the series and fades away to nothing. Brutal!

I had high hopes for the 2012 cartons, I loved the makeover they gave her, but they stuck to the 'nerdy and annoying' stereotype. Then (spoiler alert) she turned out to be just another Krangbot. Maybe they'll bring her back in future episodes, who knows? Until then this is my idea about what happened to the real Irma Langinstein.

I'm planning to write this story in short bursts, the complete opposite to my 'Scarlett' and 'Neko' stories which now tend to get upwards of 7,000 words per chapter. I'm not sure if Scar will make an appearance either but if she does it will be as a fairly minor character. I've never used an existing character as my main protagonist before so I'm seeing how I go. I'm also going to try third person, not sure if I will be successful :/

Anyway, enough rambling...I own nothing!

New York pedestrians are fluid creatures, like water slipping down a rocky stream they seamlessly flow around honking traffic and each other as they bustle from place to place. Rarely does so minor a collision occur as even a bump of elbows or brush of shoulders. More unpredictable hazards, such as the randomly sprawled homeless or slow moving tourists, are dealt with efficiently with a quick series of delicate side steps.

One such hazard is making her way down 2nd Street, head buried in a biochemistry textbook as she mutters to herself from passages she highlighted during her last study period. Exasperated foot traffic can clearly make out her muttering as they weave out of her way, "...plasma membrane is a selectively permeable barrier between the cell and extracellular environment..."

The book with legs veers to the left without looking and her boots clomp quickly down a long set of subway stairs. She is still muttering as she pulls a metro card from her pocket and shoves her way through the narrow turnstile, "...permeability properties ensure that essential molecules, such as glucose, amino acids and lipids readily enter the cell..."

Muggy heat envelopes her as soon as she steps onto the platform but she hardly notices beyond the need to push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose when they slip with sweat. The train pulls in at the station, the hot but welcome breeze it generates swishes her skirt about her thighs and when it dies down again she follows the other commuters as they cram into the already full carriage.

As if by magic a seat opens up just in time to catch her as she plonks herself down next to a young mother with a baby on her lap, "...metabolic intermediates remain in the cell and waste compounds leave..." The baby looks around at her voice and grabs at her book, the mother offers an apology but apart from moving just enough to thwart the child's efforts she doesn't seem to notice them at all.

Three stops later and she is back on her feet, pushing her way off the train with her book held before her like a battering ram. Head is still down she climbs back to street level, appearing not to notice as the crowd around her thins even further, "...selective permeability of the plasma membrane allows the cell to maintain a constant internal environment..."

A few blocks pass and now she is on a quiet street by herself, the sun has nearly sunk behind the taller buildings. She flits in and out of patches of deepening shadow, passes by narrow alleys that are shrouded in darkness. One of these alleys reaches out with a long arm and she blinks when the textbook suddenly vanishes.

"Hey!" She looks around as if only just realising where she is. There is a noise from the alley and she turns to face it with her hands on her hips, "Give that back right now! I'm studying for my test on cellular membranes tomorrow and..."

"The human known as Irma Langinstein will not be needing the book that is the book that contains the information of those that are known as cellular membranes."

A man in a business suit steps from the mouth of the alley. The frown lifts from her face and is replaced by a wary expression. "What?" Unease colours her voice and she takes a step backwards. Before she can retreat further the man reaches out to grab her wrist in a painfully tight grip.

A second man steps from the shadows, identical to the first in every way. "The human known as Irma will from this point in time be know as the one who is a captive of the Kraang." He says in the same bland voice.

"Ow, let me go!" She twists to get away but only manages to hurt herself within his tight grip. She kicks at him with her boots and gets no reaction. A white van pulls to the curb and it scares her so badly she opens her mouth to scream, a hard hand covers her mouth and her cries are muffled as she is pushed towards it. The doors of the van fling open and when she sees what's inside her eyes bulge wide.

"Hello Irma."

The girl sitting in the back of the van jumps down onto the street, now there are two sets of twins standing in a group. One of the men holds out the stolen textbook, the other Irma takes it and reads the cover with a sneer. "You gotta be kiddin me, basic Earth biology? What a load of crock, this has gotta be the worst assignment I ever got. I can feel myself getting stupider already." She tucks the book under one arm then holds out her free hand, snapping her fingers impatiently while the man holding the other girl tugs the backpack from her shoulders and hands it over.

The hand over her mouth suddenly seems like it is going to suffocate her and she breathes through her nose in panicked breaths. The last thing she sees is herself standing on the sidewalk, waving goodbye with a lazy wiggle of her fingertips and a cruel smirk on her face. "See you later, alligator. Not."

The van doors slam with her on the inside and that's the last she will see of planet Earth for quite some time.

Let's see how many people are interested in this story :) Let me know with reviews!