|City Of Frank, Right Thigh|

Thrax grunted as he was tossed out of the vehicle he had just hi-jacked, being rammed by Jones' car. He got up, holding his head with one hand as he quickly got up, followed by the annoying cough pill and the way too persistent white blood cell. He didn't make it far before Drix started to shoot at him however, and was forced to duck for cover sooner than he would have liked. And just at the moment he was about to run for the edge of the street, and duck down so he could glide to safety in style, Drix shot him.
Before he could do anything, his chain, his prized chain, was knocked out of his hands by some debris launched by the shot. It wasn't even a hit from the gun that caused him to lose sight of his chain, but some stupid chunks of earth that had hit his hands just right. In shock he watched the chain go over the rail, almost in slow-motion. His golden eyes followed the motion, before he lost sight of it.
The sound of the two officers yelling at him woke him from his temporary shock. Not even taking the time to make a snide comment to the two, he ducked over the edge as fast as his legs could carry him. Without that chain, he was nothing. Without that little thing, he couldn't destroy Frank and he could kiss his record good-bye as well.

|Calve, A Few Hours Later|

'Look what I found, Emmy.' The small, light-green germ said as she pressed a pretty glowing chain in the brain cell's hand. Emily took the chain from the eight-year old germ, and looked at it with a certain interest. Today was one of the days when she snuck out of the house to do some of her 'volunteer' work. Basically it meant hauling a backpack filled with books from her home to the slums, where she lent out the books to the children that lived there. No matter how dangerous her father told her it was, and no matter how often he forbade her to go, she always ended up leaving home to do this small something. Sarah looked up at the brain cell in admiration, and was surprised when Emily gave her back the chain. She looked down at it in surprise.
'Don't you like it?' she asked, confused. She had been convinced that her older friend would certainly appreciate something that sparkled like this. Emily smiled, mussing up the germs yellow hair.
'I think it's very pretty. And I think it would look a lot prettier on you than on me, wouldn't it?'
Sarah gave her a puzzled look. 'I don't know. I think it would like pretty on anyone.'

She held up the black chain, and looked at the purple orbs that lit up every once in a while. 'Are you sure you don't want it?' she asked Emily. Emily nodded as she lifted Sarah's five-year old brother on her lap, holding a book in her hands, letting the boy look at the pictures.
'I'm pretty sure. Why don't you hang on to it, as a good luck charm?' she told the young girl. Sarah nodded, stuffing the chain in the back of her pants.
'If that's what you want, Emmy.' She replied. The girl picked up the two books that she had chosen from the pile that her friend always brought along, stuffing them in her backpack. Then she took the book Emily was holding in her hands as well, adding that to the pile. When little Robs got up from her lap, Emily started to collect the books that all the kids had brought back. Though they all were from what one could call poor homes, the books were always delivered back in the same condition as she had brought them in. The kids appreciated her little library service. Some of the older boys had even offered to keep track of who had what book, so she wouldn't lose any.
'Well, I should walk the two of you home, make sure you're safe.'

The other kids usually had some older relative coming to pick them up, but today Rick had to do work at the bar, and hadn't been available to pick them up. Emily swung her backpack up on her back, almost falling back down from the weight of all those books. One of them poked her in the back awkwardly.
She started the walk with the two kids, but it wasn't long until she was almost walked underfoot by some tall, red-looking guy that seemed to be in a hurry. She looked back annoyed.
'Hey, watch it buddy!' she yelled. The man ignored her, and all she could do was watch him walk away in his long black coat.
'People these days don't have any manners.' She mumbled from in between her teeth, herding the two smaller kids in front of her. At least tall, red and rude hadn't run over them, or he might have ended up getting a backpack filled with books against his face. How rude would he be after being hit in the face by 'The Velveteen Rabbit' or one of its companions, she would like to see.

They reached the bar soon enough. Named 'The Green Muck Hole', it wasn't too surprising that most of its clients were of the more unsavory kind. This was where Rick worked, together with his mother, and where she was supposed to drop off the two kids. When they got inside, she told Sarah to finish her homework first, before she started reading. The germ rolled her green eyes at her, and ran off. Her younger brother ran after her as well, though not as fast. Rick spotted her soon enough, and pushed back his long curls from out of his eyes.
'Emmy! There's our little Queen! What can I get ya ta drink? No charge, since you brought home the two little slime balls.'
Taking a seat at the bar, she ordered the usual. Several of the people there yelled a greeting at her, and she waved back with good humor. Most of the people here were either locals, or somehow related to the locals, through cytoplasm or business. And since she kept their kids somewhat out of trouble, they were always very friendly when she passed by. Her father could yap all he wanted about lowering crime rate, at least she was out here doing something.

One of the taller, mossy-green crime lords slapped her on the shoulder as he passed by.
'Emmy! Any chance I can convince you to join in a little enterprise I've got goin' on?' he asked her, signing Rick that he would be wanting drinks for the lot of them.
Emily grinned at him, bringing her drink to her mouth. 'Depends… is it some honest business for a change?'
He grabbed his chest, acting hurt. 'My business is always honest, you know that.'
She chuckled, and waved him good-bye. She turned to Rick, who was busy mixing drinks for the newly arrived table. 'The day someone of the Streptococcus family starts doing honest business is the day I start taking being a lady seriously.'
Rick threw her a lop-sided grin as he lifted his tray with drinks. 'That'll be the day.'

|Outside|

Thrax looked at the grimy looking bar, before he cast his eyes around the street. He had managed to track down his chain to somewhere in the vicinity, but then he had lost all track of it. Until he had managed to grab some young hoodlum from the street, lifting his feet from the ground and telling him to give him info. The youngster had sworn on all four his grandmothers that he didn't know anything about a sparkling chain, but that if Thrax wanted to find something he had lost, his best guess would be the 'Crime Queen'. If there was someone in town who would be able to get what he wanted, it was her. She had roots with all of the big families, and nobody every refused her a favor. Bad things usually happened to anyone refusing her a request.
When prompted where he could find this 'Queen', the youngster had directed him to this grimy-looking bar. He had been in luck, he had claimed. Today was one of the days that she was in this part of town. He wouldn't have to wait for her to come by. Still, the place looked pretty shabby from where Thrax was standing.

He had thanked the youth by ended his life quickly, instead of toying with him. When he entered the dimly-lit space, he saw that the exterior was by far the worst of it all. It wasn't a first-rate joint, but it was clean, there weren't any broken lamps and they even had a small live band playing. Standing there, he realized he should have asked the kid how this 'Queen' looked. He let his amber eyes wander the place, eyes gliding over a rather plain-looking girl sitting at the bar, chatting with the bar keep. The two were whispering to each other, the girl with a worried look on her face, gesturing outside with her head every once in a while.
He ignored the two. Shady deals with the barkeep were none of his business. His eyes landed on a stunning, voluptuous purple female bacteria. She had three eyes, and a split in her ivory dress that was almost too high up for decency. With her being by far the most attractive female in the joint, Thrax at once decided that she had to be the so-called Crime Queen.

He made his way over, looking to the sides to check up on the clientele. The Crime Queen was talking with a big Streptococcus type, but Thrax already knew that someone like that wouldn't be a real fight. He leant over her shoulder, throwing the woman a toothy grin.
'Why hello there, baby. Say, I need to ask you something.'
She threw him a depreciating glance, before grabbing her drink and ignoring him. The man that was with her didn't appreciate the newcomer, and neither did his nearby cronies.
'Listen buddy, why don't you go and find your own girl?' the green virus said, taking his cigar from his mouth. Thrax cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders. This was going to be fun.

The door slammed open, and two muscular men clad in a costume barged through the door. Everybody in the joint froze up, except for the girl that had been sitting at the bar with the barkeep. With a yelp she shot up, trying to make her way to the ladies room. The men were quicker however, as one of them yanked her back by grabbing her hair, that reached just past her shoulders. She let out a yelp, and started to protest at once at such a rough treatment.
Several of the men in the place started to chuckle uncomfortably when the other man pulled out a gun, keeping it ready to shoot.
'No! Let me go, I'm not doing anything wrong by just sitting here! I'm not even drinking alcohol, you over-grown muscle cell! Why don't you come back when you've got a brain, huh? If you think that I'm going to come along quietly-'
'Miss, your father asked that we bring you home swiftly and safely. No delays, you need to get ready for this evening's soiree. It is extremely important for your father.'
The man started to make his way towards the door, the girl slung over his shoulder. She banged her fists on his back, kicking her feet as well. The other man followed behind them, keeping ready to fire if someone dared to interfere. The barkeep was the one who looked to be worried the most, while the others pretended as if it was a scene that passed by every week.

'If you think I'm going to prance around in a cocktail dress just because father wants to impress a couple of over-blown brain tumors – that's exactly what they are – then he has another thing coming. I refuse to be dressed up as some kind of idiotic bimbo that can't even –'
The rest of the girl's speech was cut off by the door swinging shut. The band that had shut up when the men had entered started playing again, but a lot quieter. People resumed their conversations, with quite a lot of them shaking their heads as they mumbled something about 'not being right' and 'not doing any harm indeed'.
Thrax turned back to the violet dame, striking back his dreadlocks in a supple motion. 'Well, baby, why don't you tell me how you're going to help me get my chain back?'
The green virus on the other side of the table blew some smoke in the air, looking at Thrax in a way that suggested he found the latest remark quite amusing.
'You think you're talking to the Crime Queen, boy?' he asked him, taking a sip of the liquor in front of him.

Thrax looked around in the bar, before nudging his head back to the woman next to him. 'who else looks like a Queen to you then? There's hardly a woman in here, and this certainly is the biggest flame. So why shouldn't she be the Queen?'
The virus grinned, puffing out another lazy puff of smoke. The men sitting around them started to chuckle, as if they were sharing some kind of inside joke. Thrax received a yellowed, crooked smile, as the man put out his cigar in one of the ash trays.
'Well, if it's the Queen you're looking for, boy, she just left the building. That scrawny girl with the big mouth they just pulled out from here? That would be our little 'Crime Queen', as feisty as they come. Her daddy's bodyguards came to get her, like they always do once they get a whiff as to where she is. Poor kid, she ain't doing nothing wrong. But her daddy doesn't like her coming down here.'
Thrax was about as surprised as he could get. That little brat was the Crime Queen? With that messy hair and baggy clothes? He had been expecting someone a little bit more glamorous.

'Where can I find this kid?' he asked, this time paying more attention to his tone of voice. The other virus gave him a smile, lighting another cigar.
'That, I can't say. Nobody in here will, kid. Partly because we don't know, we don't want to know either, and even if we did… why should we be telling someone who doesn't give off the vibe that he doesn't have any good intentions with our little girl? We won't be attacking you in here, because we all promised the Queen that we wouldn't fight in here, and we keep our word. Unless you make the first move, then we are all diving on top of you. No matter how tough you are mate, if you want to find what you are looking for, you better hurry up and try to find her on yourself. No use hanging around here, is there?'

Thrax gritted his teeth, but decided against the attack. Instead he memorized the face of that particular virus and his henchmen. As soon as he had a chance, after he got his chain back, he would be having another talk with him. A long, fiery discussion as it were. On his way outside, his foot hooked after a bag that was lying near the bar. It was so heavy he nearly tripped, but instead he bent down, taking it with him.
He wondered what was inside, to make it so bulky. Something was poking him in the back, and he didn't like the feel of it. Maybe there were some guns inside. Those might be useful, he needed to arm a militia. Jones had wiped out most of his cronies in the previous blast at the Zit, and he did not like it one bit.

He was severely disappointed by the contents of the back. Inside were nothing but books, books, and more books. No wonder the bag was so heavy, the entire thing was crammed with them. With a swear he leant against a wall, annoyed at the current state of events.
The Queen had disappeared, together with his hope of getting his chain back, and now he was holding a tattered backpack filled with books. He almost threw the bag away, before he thought of something. On his way to the small park he had bumped against some girl that kind of looked like how the Queen had looked. And she had had a backpack that looked just like this one. Could he really be catching a break for the first time since he had encountered Jones?
He looked inside the backpack, and soon found a little strip with an address written on it. The ink was starting to fade, but still read-able enough. Of course she had to live in the Spine, the most wealthy neighborhood there was.
Where else would you find an annoying brat that let herself be called the 'Crime Queen'? He swung the backpack over his shoulder, and started to make his way towards his new goal. The only reason he didn't dump the books right now was that, if he couldn't sneak his way in, at least he would be able to try and use the books as some sort of excuse to get inside. Or at least close enough to a guard to catch the sucker off- guard, deal out some punches and waltz inside as if nothing had happened.

He started to hum his favorite tune again, rummaging in his pocket, looking for the chain without realizing it. All thoughts of setting record were gone. For now, all that mattered was getting the chain back.
It was time to turn up the heat on this so-called Queen.

|Moon's note : Ugh, I started another new story. Sob, I really should learn to control myself. To all my readers that know me from other stories : no worries, I'll make sure to continue updates on each and every one of them. Even though I am going on a vacation soon…. But anyway, there will be updates.
Ps : if you want, you can always leave a review.. or send a message. Or dance the hula in your room. Whatever floats your boat.|