I think insanity is catching.

Day Three

"Insanity," Jeff said as he unlocked storeroom three and watched his mother hobble to the door.

"I figured you couldn't be The Hood, because you're Scott," 'Grandma' said. "Do you want me to say 'Insanity' too?"

Jeff shook his head. "No, you can just tell me who you are."

"John. And you are?"

"I'm your father."

John tried to limber up, which looked odd for an 80-year-old woman. "That deckchair was not a good idea, Dad. I'm aching all over! We shouldn't have done that to Grandma!"

"Well, if things hold true, we won't have to do it again. Someone else will have to suffer the deckchair…"

"Insanity," 'Gordon' said as he wrote 'Virgil' on a nametag at the breakfast bar in the dining room.

"Insanity," 'Alan' took the pen from him and wrote 'Lady Penelope'. "Very insane, dear boy."

"Insanity. And I'm Grandma!" 'Virgil' said brightly as she walked into the room.

'The Hood' loomed in the doorway. "Insanity," he boomed. "So this is how my half-brother sees the world."

There was a chorus of "Morning, Kyrano."

"Insanity!" 'Parker' chanted. "Insanity, insanity, insanity. This is insane! At least I should be able to go for a swim today."

"Here's your nametag," Lady Penelope handed him one with 'Gordon' written on it.

"Thanks…ah… Penny."

"I'm a girl!" they heard Tin-Tin wail.

"What are you complaining about?" 'Kyrano' replied as the pair of them entered the kitchen. "I'm my own father!"

"Sorry, Tin-Tin," 'Tin-Tin' replied.

"What's the code?" Jeff asked them both.

"Insanity" they replied.

"It was the first thing I said to him," Tin-Tin said. "And the first thing he said too."

"And who's 'he'?" Gordon asked.

"Alan," Alan replied. "Look at me! I'm inside Tin-Tin!"

A wicked grin spread across Gordon/Parker's features. "A long held dream finally came to fruition, huh?"

"Mister Gordon!" arms folded, The Hood's face frowning in disapproval, Kyrano looked every inch the protective, threatening father.

"Oops," Gordon cowed back. "Sorry, Kyrano."

"And…" Kyrano boomed.

"Ah… sorry, Tin-Tin."

"Very good," 'The Hood' resumed making breakfast.

"Where is 'er Ladyship?" 'Brains' asked as he walked in the door.

"What's the word?" Jeff demanded.

"H-Insanity."

"I'm here, Parker," Alan gave him an elegant wave.

Jeff walked into the room. "I-I-Ins-s-s…"

"Morning, Brains," Jeff said tiredly. "This is ridiculous!"

'Lady Penelope' poked her head through the kitchen door. "Ah, is Virgil here?"

They all looked at 'her' and said nothing.

"Well?" 'she' asked.

"Do you have anything else to say?" Jeff frowned at the newcomer.

"Anything…? uh… Oh, yeah. Insanity. Now which of you is Virgil!"

"Me," Virgil waved Gordon's hand.

"Can I see you for a moment?"

"Me or Grandma?"

"Don't be silly, Virg. Come here!"

"What's the matter, Scott? Is there a mouse in your room?"

Virgil was swatted lightly by 'Alan' as he walked past. "Don't be cheeky, dear boy."

"An iddy, biddy mouse won't hurt you," Virgil continued on as he followed his brother down the hallway. "A cute little mouse with whiskers, and a long tail, and those little buck teeth."

"Shut up, Virg. You know I'm not afraid of mice."

"But I'll bet your skin's crawling at the moment and you've come out in goose bumps."

Scott didn't acknowledge the truth of the statement, instead he ushered his brother into his bedroom and shut the door.

Virgil had a fair idea what was coming next so waited.

"Virgil?" Scott began hesitantly. "When you were Lady Penelope a couple of days ago…"

"Yes…?"

"Did you… experience… ah… anything unusual?"

"Those high-heeled shoes of hers certainly felt strange."

"That's not what I meant."

"And when I wasn't wearing them it felt odd to be shorter."

"I didn't mean that either."

"And her long nails take a bit of getting used to. I don't know how women can do anything with nails that long!"

"Virg! That's not what I mean."

"Oh!" Virgil pretended to be surprised. "What do you mean then?"

"Did she…? uh…"

"Yes?"

"Did she have… um… woman's things?"

"From where I'm standing she does!"

"Virgil!"

Virgil grinned and took pity. "Okay, Scott. I'll help…" he remembered what Lady Penelope had told him two days earlier. "But… it's going to be unpleasant for you. Think of it as…wounded in action."

He almost laughed when Scott repeated the very words he'd used. "Why do I not like the sound of this?"
"Penny said to me that I was getting a rare insight into women and that I should use the information wisely. I trust you are going to do the same."

Scott looked at his brother, in another brother's body. "Coming from 'Gordon', that is not a comfort. What information?" he sighed. "Tell me the worst…"

Jeff was mulling things over in his mind. "Hang on! Who are we missing?"

"Scott and Virgil," John offered.

"No. I mean who haven't we accounted for this morning? We've seen you, Scott, Virgil, Gordon, Alan, Mother, Tin-Tin, Kyrano, Brains, Penny, Parker…" he ticked the names off his fingers. "Then where's…?"

They all looked towards the heavens.

"No…" John whispered in horror. "Not in my 'bird…"

Who / In

Jeff / Scott

Scott / Lady Penelope

Lady Penelope / Alan

Alan / Tin-Tin

Tin-Tin / Kyrano

Kyrano / The Hood

The Hood / John

John / Grandma

Grandma / Virgil

Virgil / Gordon

Gordon / Parker

Parker / Brains

Brains / Jeff

The Hood prowled about frantically. When he'd awoken he'd at first been overjoyed to find that he had unfettered rein over one of the fabulous Thunderbird craft. All his wildest dreams had come true! Then he made the mistake of looking out of one of the viewports… As the realisation had dawned as to just where he was - alone, high above the planet, with only thin walls between him and oblivion - he'd suddenly discovered what it was like to have claustrophobia, isolophobia, astrophobia, spacephobia, and acrophobia.

He literally jumped when he heard a strident beeping from one of the chattering consoles. Trying to get a grip on himself he rushed over to the source of the sound. Automatically a screen came to life and he found himself looking at the face of the eldest son of that accursed family. "Get me out of here!" he yelled. "Now!"

"That's not possible," the eldest son said. "You're going to have to stay there until tomorrow when we all change again."

"Tomorrow!" The Hood screeched.

"Dad?" the old lady pulled at her grandson's sleeve. "We can't leave HIM there. Not in Thunderbird Five!"

"Get me out of here, Tracy," The Hood's belligerent tone softened into a whimper. "I give my word that I will not attempt anything."

"I'd say your word is about as good as a solar panel during an arctic winter," Jeff told him.

"Help me," The Hood pleaded and ran his hands over his head before grasping two handfuls of John's fair locks. "Hair? I have hair?" he gave a laugh that bordered on the hysterical.

"Dad!" John hissed urgently. "What if he starts pulling my hair out?"

"Then you'll be as bald as Kyrano," Gordon sniggered.

"You are supposed to be International Rescue!" The Hood lowered his hands (much to John's relief) so he could hold them out in supplication. "Rescue me! P-P-P…"

"Yes?" Jeff asked.

"P-Pl-Pl…"

"He sounds like someone I know," Brains said thoughtfully.

"Please!" The Hood spluttered out and then wiped his mouth as if he'd just eaten something foul tasting.

"We'll get back to you," Jeff told him. And disconnected the call.

"Noooooooo!" The Hood yelled at the blank screen.

Scott and Virgil entered the lounge; the former not a happy man, the latter in high spirits.

"What's up?" Virgil asked. "Where's breakfast?"

"What's up is The Hood," Alan told him.

"Huh?"

"The Hood's in my body on Thunderbird Five," John explained.

"Oh, heck!" Scott muttered. "As if things could get any worse."

"We're going to have to go and get him," Jeff said. "The way he sounded he's already on the edge. If he goes over he could do some real damage both to Thunderbird Five and himself." He looked at the assembled group. "But who do we send?"

"I'll go," Virgil stepped forward. "At least both Gordon and I know how to operate Thunderbirds Three and Five."

"Thanks, Son. But who can we send with you?"

"Scott can't go…" Virgil smirked. "Not in his… condition."

He received twin dirty looks from Scott and Lady Penelope.

"And I can't, not while I'm Grandma." John noted. "I'm still stiff after sleeping in that deckchair all night."

"Going by Gordon's efforts in the pool yesterday, I don't think it'd be a good idea for me to go," Alan said.

"As much as I hate to agree with Alan," Gordon said, "I'll have to agree with Alan."

"I'll go," Brains offered. "At l-least your body is used to space travel, M-Mr Tracy. I-I also have one or t-two ideas about how we can restrain The Hood."

"You go too, Jeff," Grandma suggested. "As Brains said, at least you're used to it. And both you and Scott know how to operate Thunderbird Three."

"Right," Jeff grunted. "That's settled. We'll have breakfast and then take off. I'll just let our 'friend' know our decision…

"Breakfast!" The Hood stormed. "You are going to rescue me after breakfast!"

"We could always wait till after lunch," Gordon offered.

The Hood slunk back. "I will wait until you have finished breakfast."

"Good. We'll be in touch when we're lifting off," Jeff told him.

Grandma Tracy stood on the balcony and felt her pulses quicken as she watched Thunderbird Three depart for the heavens. "Gordon!"

"Yes, Grandma."

"When Virgil slides down into Thunderbird Two, what sets the slide in motion?"

Gordon's, well 'Parker's', brow furrowed in thought. "There's a sensor in the foot plate that measures his weight and which direction he's facing, checking he's got his back to the picture. There's also a fingerprint scanner in the picture itself, which acts as the switch. Why?"

"Where is the fingerprint scanner?"

Bemused Gordon led her over to the painting of the rocket. "Here," he pointed it out. "Why?"

"So if I were to stand like this…" Grandma, in Virgil's body, stood with her back to the painting, "…and move my hand like this…" She tipped backwards and disappeared into the wall. "Wheee!"

"Grandma!" Gordon gasped.

"She's going down to Thunderbird Two!" Alan exclaimed. "Come on!"

"Virgil's going to kill us," John shuddered as he hobbled after them.

The trolley in the chute rotated and then Grandma Tracy began descending feet first, giggling all the way. "Whee!" she squealed again. "Ohh," she added when she entered Thunderbird Two's flight deck. The trolley collapsed beneath her and she found herself seated at the controls of the mighty transporter. "That was fun."

The control yoke moved towards her and she automatically grasped it. "Wow!"

A sound behind her made her aware that she had company. "Move away from the control yoke, Grandma" John instructed.

"I'm only sitting here," Grandma insisted. "I want to go on that slide again."

"I should never have told you how that system operates," Gordon declared. "Virgil's going to kill me."

"Come on, Grandma," Alan said. "You've had your fun; let's go back into the house."

Grandma was looking at the control panel in front of her, which had burst into life when she'd arrived. "What does this button do?" She pressed one marked 'Hangar Door'.

"No!" Alan exclaimed. "Don't…" His jaw dropped as the hangar door dropped away and sunlight streamed in. "Virgil's gonna kill us."

Grandma clapped her hands in delight as the palm trees fell backwards. "Let's go for a drive, Boys. Show me how."

"No!" John shook his head. "Nada! No way! If we leave this hangar it'll not only be Virgil we'll have to deal with, it'll be Dad as well."

"John!" Grandma turned to glower at herself. "Who am I?"

"Vir… ah, Grandma," he replied.

"And who are you more afraid of? Virgil and your father combined, or me?"

That was a tough question. The three Tracy boys looked at each other.

"Push that lever forward, Grandma," Gordon eventually said.

"Slowly," John added.

Grandma pushed the lever and the great plane began rolling down the track.

"Scott to Thunderbird Two," they could hear Lady Penelope's voice. "Who's down there?" He/She sounded angry.

"You answer him. You're the co-pilot," Alan pushed Gordon towards the microphone.

"No, you answer him, John. You're older," Gordon pulled his brother even closer.

"I wish I was on Thunderbird Five," John moaned. "Even if I was alone with The Hood."

"Oh, really!" Grandma tutted. "It's me, Scott. We're just going for a little drive."

"We?"

"Me, John, Gordon and Alan."

"Scott's gonna kill us," John moaned.

"No," Gordon disagreed. "He's only going to kill one of us. The other two he'll leave for Dad and Virgil."

"What are you doing, Grandma?" Scott was saying in alarm.

"Why should you boys have all the fun? At the moment I'm Virgil, so I'm doing what Virgil does."

"Virgil doesn't take Thunderbird Two out for joy rides."

"Well he should! It's fun. Oh my!"

"Grandma!"

"Release the lever!"

"Straighten up!

"Turn the yoke!"

"Turn to the left!"

"Stop!"

"Apply the brakes!"

"We're dead!"

"He's gonna kill us!"

"THEY'RE going to kill us!"

Thunderbird Two ground to a halt.

"Scott, Virgil AND Dad are going to kill us… slowly," John said as he and his brothers looked out of the cockpit windows at the trail of snapped palms that lined the right side of the runway.

"Maybe we should take Thunderbird Two," Alan suggested, "and run away."

Grandma seemed unconcerned by the damage. "Yes! Let's go for a flight. Which lever…?"

"NO!" Gordon placed himself between his grandmother and the flight lever.

"Are you all all right?" Scott was asking anxiously.

"Perfectly," his grandmother informed him. "Now Gordon's going to take me for a little flight."

"What! Grandma! No way. We're already in big trouble; don't ask me to make it worse!"

"Grandma!" Scott scolded. "You tell him to reverse that Thunderbird back into its hangar!"

"Oh, you're such a worrywart, Scott. We'll just go for a little flight and then he can put it away."

"Grandma!"

"Talk us thought the launch and we'll see you soon, Scott." Grandma slipped out of the pilot's seat. "There you are, Gordon. It's all yours."

Gordon looked at his brothers and then claimed the seat she'd just vacated. "Buckle up," he instructed.

"We're dead meat," Alan said, as he complied.

"Yep," John agreed. "Dad, Scott and Virgil are going to kill us. And use our ground up bodies to fill in the dent in Thunderbird Two."

Some hours later, Jeff, Virgil and Brains were looking at Thunderbird Five through one of Thunderbird Three's monitors.

"Still looks like she's in one piece," Virgil commented.

"But what is she like inside?" Jeff wondered. "Are you ready, Brains?"

"Y-Yes. Bring Thunderbird Three alongside the air vent, p-please."

"Yes, Sir," Virgil said and then frowned. "This is confusing; I keep forgetting which one of you two is my father."

A short time later they'd linked Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five via a hose line. "Releasing gas," Brains announced. He watched a gauge for a while before switching off. "Th-That should be enough."

"Will he be asleep?" Virgil asked.

"N-No. Probably a little t-tired, but very docile."

"Are you sure? This is The Hood we're talking about."

Brains nodded.

"Okay, Brains. Thanks. We'll be back shortly with our guest." Jeff donned Scott's breathing apparatus, while Virgil slipped on Gordon's. The airlock cycled back and they stepped through.

The Hood was sitting on the floor in the middle of Thunderbird Five's main control room, looking like a listless puppet. "You're here?" he asked in wonder. "International Rescue has come to save me?"

"Yes, we're here," Jeff told him as Virgil did a quick circuit of the space station, checking that nothing had been broken or stolen.

"You… are a good man… Jeff Tracy…. Or whoever you are," The Hood said drunkenly. "Not like me. Not like The Hoodie. The Hoodie a bad man."

Jeff decided not to agree out loud.

The Hood giggled. "You look funny with that thing on your face." He pointed at Jeff's oxygen mask.

"It's to help me breathe."

"Oh! Oh! I want to breathe too. Can I have one?"

"No," Jeff said.

"Oh…" The Hood pouted.

"Looks shipshape," Virgil said when he returned. "How is he?"

"Hoodie a bad man," The Hood repeated. "I have hair." He ran his fingers through John's hair and pulled a lock down so he was able to look at it cross eyed. "I have golden curls. Like that movie star…"

"Yeah, right," Virgil agreed with evident lack of interest.

"Can you walk?" Jeff asked.

The Hood nodded, but didn't move. "Like that movie star from long, long ago." He frowned. "What was their name?"

"I'm sure we don't know, and don't care," Virgil told him as he put an arm around his brother's shoulders in preparation for helping him stand.

"Long, long time ago. Golden curls."

"We know. Long time ago and they had golden curls," Jeff agreed. "Have you got him, Virgil?"

"I think so."

"Right. Lift!"

Although John wasn't the heaviest of the Tracy Boys, The Hood was a dead weight. Grunting the pair of them managed to get him to his feet.

"Golden curls. Long time ago."

"This century or last?" Virgil asked.

"Don't encourage him!" Jeff warned.

"Hey, he's got me curious now. Who on earth can this guy think he's like!"

"Last century. Long time ago."

"Yes. Last century was a long time ago," Virgil agreed. "Can you describe this movie star? Were they tall or short?"

"Short! Very, very short!"

Jeff stared at his son. "I think you've not only inherited Gordon's body, Virgil."

"Very, very short… Ha! I have it!" And The Hood began to sing. "On the good ship Lollypop…"

"You're kidding me!"

"There's a sweet tip to the candy pop, dum dum la…"

"Have you got him, Virgil?"

The Hood stopped singing and giggled. "Virgil! That's a bad word."

Virgil sighed. "I thought I left this behind at elementary school. No, it's Virgil, with a L. It's not what you're thinking of."

"Bad word. Bad Hoodie," The Hood chuckled.

"Come on," Jeff growled. "Let's get him into Thunderbird Three and let's get home."

They took a step forward and The Hood slipped out of their grasp, landing with a thud on the floor. He looked up at them with a hurt expression on his face. "You dropped me!"

"Sorry," Jeff apologised. "Maybe if you could walk a little bit next time?"

The Hood looked as if he were about to burst into tears. "Hoodie got a boo-boo on his foo-foo." He started giggling again. "Foo-foo. Bad Hoodie."

"On your feet," Jeff instructed, pulling upwards.

The Hood began to sing again. "Little bunny Foo-Foo…"

Virgil grunted, trying to get the dead weight to stand.

"Hopping through the forest…"

"That's a good idea," Jeff suggested. "Hop forward."

The Hood complied, still singing as he hopped on one foot. "Scooping up the field mice…"

They started moving forward.

"And bopping them on the head…" The Hood chuckled. "Bad bunny. Bad Hoodie."

"Yes," Jeff agreed. "Bad bunny."

Virgil looked at him. "And you complain about me?"

"The good fairy came down and she said…" By the time they'd got The Hood into Thunderbird Three and bound tightly into one of the seats, the Tracys had heard all about how the fairy had demanded that if 'Little Bunny Foo-Foo' didn't stop bopping field mice on the head, the fairy would turn the pesky rabbit into a goon. Apparently 'Little Bunny Foo-Foo' hadn't taken advantage of the three lives the fairy had given him and suffered the promised punishment. "Do ya know what the moral of the story is?" The Hood asked Brains who was preparing an anaesthetising syringe.

"No," Brains said, not really listening.

"Hare today. Goon tomorrow!" The Hood howled with laughter. "But you know what?"

Brains swabbed John's arm with some sterilising solution. "What?"

"Hoodie not like that. Hoodie 'Goon yesterday. Hair today.'" He laughed, yelped when the syringe sank home, and promptly fell asleep.

That's it! I promise that's it! No more. There's nothing else. Nothing…

Unless someone else has been infected with 'Insanity'.

Thanks to Ms Imagine for giving me the go ahead to post this, and to Quiller for her usual help and encouragement.

None of the characters in what there is of this story belong to me.

:-)

Purupuss.