DISCLAIMER: Lemonce Sourson does not belong to me! Neither does this chapter's rule! They belong to IlikeSTRANGEpairings. The pessimistic conversation found in the review section—that caused IlikeSTRANGEpairings to submit Lemonce—belongs to Notsosurgarushed. I also do not own the tune to "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds".

Victims 13 and 14: Sweet and Sour

This person called for a unique situation, a unique reaction, and an equally unique rule…because, really, how often do you come across a racer that won't scream and cry and beg for their life when faced with death at the hands—err, jaws—of a voracious cybrid predator that was once Sugar Rush's stand-in king?

Enter Lemonce Sourson…

Just watch and learn, people. Watch and learn…

.o.o.o.o.

"Oh my mod! Vanellope was just eaten!"

A young boy with short dark brown hair, pale skin, and green eyes frantically ran through the candy cane forest. He wore a yellow sour skittle cap with a matching jacket, a bright green undershirt, dark red pants with yellow stripes down the sides, and black shoes. Around his waist was a sour rope belt.

Lemonce Sourson, a racer as enthusiastic and upbeat as Sour Bill...

He kept running, eyes darting over his shoulder every few seconds. He expected to see the deranged cybrid burst from the trees and pursue him at any second. He was so engrossed in watching behind him that he ran smack into a candy cane tree. He yelped, falling back with a hand over his mouth. He could taste copper on his tongue.

A loud scream tore his thoughts from his split lip.

"Taffyta…" Lemonce whispered.

He didn't hesitate to get up, running as far away from the scream as he could. This time, he didn't dare look behind him. It wasn't worth the trouble. In all honesty, he didn't want to see the crazed racer-bug thing chasing him.

He just wanted to get home…

.o.o.o.o.

It felt like an eternity before Lemonce's legs couldn't handle running anymore. He eventually slowed to a sluggish walk, wobbling this way and that on occasion. His feet were sore from the running…and he felt so tired…

The screams of his fellow racers echoed in his ears.

We're all going to die here, Lemonce realized, slowing to a stop. The realization hit him like a brick wall. Why am I even bothering to run? He'll catch me, anyway. What's the point? We're just entertaining him, if anything!

The brunette slumped back against a tree, sliding to the ground.

What's the point? he wondered, staring up at the sugary sky above him.

.o.o.o.o.

"…And why aren't you running around, screaming like a peep with its head cut off?"

Lemonce would've jumped in fright…if he hadn't already decided that his life was over. The boy merely tilted his head back. Turbo was halfway up the tree he was seated in front of, claws dug into the peppermint bark and a questioning look on his face.

"Hey! Are you deaf? I said—"

"I heard what you said," Lemonce interrupted dully, dragging himself to his feet. "I just decided running was pointless. You're going to catch us anyway, so what's the point?"

Turbo stared at the boy like he'd grown a second head. "…Seriously?"

Lemonce turned around and stared up at Turbo, tired. "Yeah. Why bother when you know you're going to die anyway? You ate Vanellope, after all. How can the rest of us possibly escape if she didn't, glitching and all?"

"Aren't you going to beg for your life?" Turbo asked, slowly sliding down from the tree.
"Why should I? You already ate all those other racers. What makes me so special?" Lemonce asked, gaze following Turbo down the tree.
"Not even one scream?" Turbo questioned, pulling away from the tree upon reaching the ground.
"Dude, just eat me already!" Lemonce demanded tiredly.
"What fun is that?" Turbo countered, slowly circling the pint-sized racer.
"I'm not having fun. Why should you?" Lemonce replied coldly, firmly staying where he was and glaring at the ground.

"Because I'm the best and deserve to have fun at your expense," Turbo answered, stopping just behind him. "Last chance, brat."

"…Just finish me off," Lemonce muttered, head hung in surrender.

Turbo stared at him, wondering briefly about the kid's sanity. The thought was dismissed quickly, though. Lifting a hand, he got ready to snatch up the annoying brat and toss him down his throat.

Moments later, Turbo abruptly straightened and skittered off. I can't eat a meal without having a bit of fun beforehand, he thought.

Lemonce just stood there, awaiting his end, unaware that the monstrous cybrid had left…

.o.o.o.o.

Let's see… Anyone screaming or such nearby? Turbo wondered.

He skittered quickly along the ground, not going too far from Lemonce's position. He planned to go back and eat the pesky brat. He just needed a bit of a…normal meal. As in, one that screamed and cried and begged for their life.

Because mod, he decided he'd rather have all of that than have the opposite. Not screaming and crying and begging for your life was…so unnatural. It made the hunt…too easy, almost.

Turbo liked a challenge, pathetic as the Sugar Rush racers were. At least they tried to appeal to his better nature! Not that it helped them…

Or that he didn't even have a better nature…

"Snowanna! Jubileena! Where are you guys?!"

Turbo froze, waiting. The call came again. Zeroing in on it, the cybrid took to the trees and quickly hurried toward the source. It didn't take long to find the voice's owner.

Poor little Adorabeezle Winterpop, all alone without her friends…

How sad…for her! Turbo thought wickedly, tongue swiping over his teeth. And how sweet…for me!

"Snowanna! Jubileena! Please, answer me!" the winter flap hat-wearing racer cried, hands cupped around her mouth to better carry her voice. "Hello? Is anyone out there?"

"Do I count?" Turbo asked.

Adorabeezle's scream was like music to his ears. Now THAT is how you're supposed to react to seeing me!

The ensuing chase was short, but it filled Turbo with a rush of adrenaline. It was incredible, the thrill of the hunt. Upon snatching the tiny racer up, he couldn't help but cackle cruelly at the tears rushing down her cheeks.

"Awww! What's wrong? Scared of little old me?" Turbo asked, honey coating his voice. "…Oh, wait! I'm not so little, now am I? Oh, yes! The little one would be you!"

"Please don't eat me! I'll do whatever you want, honest! I'll polish your armor, find you food… Anything!" Adorabeezle pleaded. "Just don't eat me!"

"Why should you find me food when you'd make a delectable snack yourself?" Turbo pointed out.

"I don't taste good, I swear!" Adorabeezle shrieked as she dangled over his mouth.

"You taste yourself? Kids sure are strange nowadays," Turbo chuckled. "Unfortunately, your opinions mean nothing to me. I'll be the judge of whether you taste good or not, kiddo."

"No, wait! Please, don't!" she wailed.

"Adorabeezle in the sky with teardrops," Turbo sang merrily, copying a tune he'd once heard on the radio when the kids would play Turbo Time. "I wonder if your tears taste like freezy pops?"

The child's scream as she plunged into his jaws made Turbo's heart race. He was delighted by the taste of popsicles despite the shivers they gave him. He swallowed her down with ease, purring.

"That tasted goo—Ugh! Brain freeze!" Turbo hissed, clutching his head. "Mod! How do you cure these again?"

He stood there for a few minutes, head clutched in his clawed hands. He thought about the sun melting a block of ice. He jammed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He breathed rapidly, hands in front of his mouth. He held his nose.

"…Oh, thank mod! I hate those!" Turbo groaned when the freezing pain vanished. "Now to go find that pessimistic brat again…"

Shaking off the last of the shivers, the cybrid retraced his steps. Now that his fun had been had, he'd be able to eat the annoying brat without feeling like it was an easy meal.

…Though, if you really thought about it, all of his meals had been easy so far…

Turbo snorted, moving on. Who cared if they were easy? They were brats. This was his revenge. What more was needed?

.o.o.o.o.

"…You seriously stood there this whole time?"

Turbo had returned to where he left Lemonce, happy and content with his previous popsicle snack—brain freeze promptly ignored—only to find the skittle-themed brat right where the cybrid left him! The kid hadn't even moved an inch. He just stood there, head hung, silently waiting.

"Are you going to eat me yet?" Lemonce asked, slightly annoyed by the wait.

"You seriously stayed put? You didn't even move!" Turbo accused, peeved.

"Huh?" Lemonce shifted, looking over his shoulder in confusion.

"I left for fifteen minutes to hunt down another snack and I come back to find you right where you were when I left!" Turbo barked angrily, jabbing the boy in the back with a claw. "Anyone else would've taken the chance to run away as fast as possible but you…! No, you stayed right there! Why. Aren't. You. Running. Away?!"

He punctuated each word of that last sentence with a sharp jab, shoving the boy forward until he smacked against a tree. Pulling back, he let Lemonce turn around properly. The boy looked up at him dully.

"I told you—what's the point? You'll catch and eat me anyway," Lemonce replied. "So why bother? I'm just entertaining you and wearing myself out. This isn't a trick. Just eat me, okay?"

"…Fine," Turbo shrugged, snatching the cheeky brat up by his jacket collar. "I'm done listening to your babble, anyway. I'd rather listen to Sour Bill drone on and on."

Just as lifted the brat over his teeth…the stupid kid spoke again!

"Might want to find something sweet to wash me down with," Lemonce suggested.

Turbo paused, baffled. "…And why would that be?"

"I'm pretty sure I taste really sour," the brunette replied. "So you might want to find something really sweet to down after I'm gone."

Turbo glared at the brunette. "…Don't tell me what to eat, kid," he growled.

"I warned you," Lemonce shrugged.

Turbo's teeth snapped shut with a resounding SNAP. Lemonce was gone, shoved down his throat and effectively silenced. Turbo was disappointed to hear not one scream or cry from the boy. There was just silent resignation.

"How disappointi—UGH!"

Turbo stumbled back, his mouth feeling like someone had punched him. A horrendous sour flavor suddenly reared up, coating his tongue and mouth almost instantly. The cybrid clawed at his tongue, coughing and spitting wildly.

"Holy mod, he wasn't kidding! Ugh!" Turbo gagged, hands clutching his throat as he skittered away into the forest at a wickedly fast—and equally reckless—gait. "Oh mod! Where's the fruit punch sea?! Ugh!"

.o.o.o.o.

…Should I say congratulations to Lemonce?

Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that I also briefly followed Adorabeezle here. Oopsie… Not that she was around for very long, but still…

As I said before, this calls for a unique rule in my survival guide. Let's hope nobody else is dumb—or smart—enough to use it. It likely won't ever come up again…hopefully…

Rules of Survival #12: When our local giant monster is going to eat you, do not give it tips on how to proceed with the action…even if they are correct.

And an extra rule that should hopefully benefit some racers…unless Turbo finds a way to protect himself against these effects.

Rules of Survival #13: To those of you based around sour candies or frozen treats, take pride! Once you're eaten, you'll likely leave our local giant monster in a world of disgust and/or pain.

…Yeah, they'll benefit you…

…After you've been eaten…

Eheheh…?

This is Pepper Swirlminta, signing out!