Despicable

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GrumpyGhostOwl
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Despicable

Post by GrumpyGhostOwl » Thu Feb 15, 2018 11:22 am

DISCLAIMER
This is an original work of fan fiction. Gatchaman and Battle of the Planets are the property of Tatsunoko and Sandy Frank Productions. The Minions are the property of Illumination Entertainment. No profit, gain, hire or reward is received by the author for this work.

NOTE
Minions are small, yellow pill-like creatures who have existed since the beginning of time, evolving from single-celled organisms into beings who have only one purpose: to serve history's most despicable masters.


________________________________________
Battle of the Planets: 2163
DESPICABLE

Part 1

At twenty years of age, Mark Hawking was bound to be a little self-conscious, particularly when in his form-fitting G-Force battle gear and in feminine company. The technicians with whom he was sharing the elevator to Anderson's office had giggled when he entered and chorused, "Good morning, Commander!" like a pair of schoolgirls. He'd nodded curtly, pulled his cape wings in close around him and waited for the elevator to arrive at Center Neptune’s Operations level.

Of course, when one is sharing an elevator with company one would rather not have, it is inevitable that the car stop multiple times before either party disembarks.

In this case, the lift stopped, the doors opened, then they closed again.

At first, Mark didn't see anyone get in but was aware of movement close to the floor. He glanced downward, expecting to see 1-Rover-1 on some errand for 7-Zark-7.

"What the heck?”

“Bello!” the small yellow creature declared cheerfully. It turned and faced the elevator door in time-honoured fashion and the car continued to ascend.

Mark tried not to stare. The technicians had no such qualms. “Cute!” one of them giggled. The elevator arrived at the computer lab level and the technicians giggled again as they exited.

A few moments later, the elevator had arrived at Operations. As it happened, the small yellow creature followed him out of the lift. “Pata mi way?” it asked politely.

Mark tapped at his helmet. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but my universal translator seems to be on the fritz.”

“No sopa!” the creature declared.

The odd little critter kept pace with Mark all the way to Anderson’s office. It was a peculiar thing, shaped more or less like a large yellow capsule with arms and legs and short black stubble on its head. It was dressed in blue dungarees, black shoes, matching black gloves and metal-framed goggles. The creature strode unchallenged into Anderson’s office and handed over a clipboard, which the Chief of Galaxy Security took without a second glance.

“Thanks, Larry,” Anderson said, studying the information on the clipboard. “Now, you’re sure it isn’t going to explode this time, right?”

“No way! Pem nosvum pik en Kevin!” the creature insisted.

“And... is Kevin in good health at the moment?” Anderson asked.

The creature laughed nervously. “Dad be tem een a foop dex.”

Anderson sighed. “Larry, I need it to work in such a way that nobody gets hospitalised, okay?”

The creature held up its hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Okay.” Anderson removed the top sheet of paper from the clipboard then handed the clipboard back. The creature took it, then turned and left the way it had come in.

Mark watched it leave. “What in the galaxy was that?”

Anderson was reading the paperwork that had been delivered on the clipboard. “Oh, that was Larry. Sorry, I should have introduced you.”

“No. No, not who. What was that?”

Anderson looked up from the sheet of paper. “You didn’t get the memo?”

Mark took a moment to consider his overflowing ‘in’ tray. “Uh... maybe?”

“We have Minions,” Anderson said

“We have Minions?” Mark echoed.

“We have Minions,” Anderson confirmed.

“Is there a cure?” Mark asked.

“Come on,” Anderson said. “I’ll introduce you to Doctor Gru.”

“Doctor who?”

“We weren’t able to recruit him. It’s Gru. Doctor Lucinda Gru. The Minions were… they came bundled with the package.”

Mark followed Anderson to the shuttle bay where they took a mini-sub over to Science Center and disembarked. They made their way to one of the centre’s many laboratories until they reached the area which had formerly housed Doctor Strecker’s Tronic Beam Project. New signage proclaimed the lab to be home to: ‘Shrink Ray Project – Dr L F Gru.’

“Do I want to know what the ‘F’ stands for?” Mark asked, being fairly sure that it couldn’t be worse than ‘Lucinda.’

“Felonia,” said a voice from behind him. “I was named after my great-great-great-grandparents, Lucy and Felonius Gru. Great-great-great Grandpa was a reformed supervillain, y’know.”

Mark twisted on his heel to see the scientist who had crept up behind him. She was tall for a woman, thin and angular with mousey brown hair, slightly bulbous watery blue eyes, a long thin nose and a smile that was… well, there really was no other word for it: manic.

Little yellow creatures in blue dungarees swarmed through the laboratory – climbing up structures, hanging off of pipes, squabbling and chattering. Mark pointed in alarm at one which appeared to be floating past the exterior window.

“Oh, don’t worry about Trevor. He’ll pop up on the surface somewhere,” Dr Gru said. Her grin made Mark want to back away slowly and find a tranquiliser gun.

“Well…” Mark attempted a conciliatory smile of his own. “I’d like to say it’s been fun… but it hasn’t. Uh, Chief, I have to… go… be… somewhere now.”

Dr Gru watched the Commander of G-Force hurry out of the lab. “Weird kid,” she muttered.

“I’m collecting the set,” Anderson said. “Do you have everything you need, Doctor Gru?”

“I could probably use more bananas,” Dr Gru said. “And maybe some pineapples.”

“I’ll see what we can do,” Anderson said, and made good his escape.

As Mark hurried along the companionway, he realised he could hear what sounded like… singing? He paused outside a door and heard:

“HEY!
Ah li peda papai, pugati po bagai
Badi badi badi badi badi kiya papoy
Bulatu ki kadi pooty pa yetay ah pe ya, kuda padee
Kayamani kay yu la rus se yay pudaa!
Eh de yu la matibula ma kay yu lee say da!
Ah li peda papai, bugati po bagai
Badi badi badi badi badi kiya papoy
Bulatu ki kadi pooty pa yetay ah pe ya, kuda padee
Mayamani kay tu ya etay a pe la
Kay ya puti kay mayamani kay a pu lah!
Woo-hoooooo!”


The singing paused for a moment and started again. Mark listened more closely. There was an oddly discordant note, a familiar voice… “Keyop?”

Mark opened the door to see more of the little yellow minions apparently partying, eating ice cream sundaes with fruit and drinking fruity drinks. Keyop was sitting up on a beam with half a dozen of the little critters, hoeing into an enormous banana split.

Keyop?”

“Mark! Hi!” Keyop grinned and waved. “These guys are AWESOME!”

“Uh… what are you doing?” Mark asked.

“We’re having an ice cream party,” Keyop said. “What does it look like?”

“Uh… okay… um… why?”

“What part of ‘ice cream party’ did you not get?” Keyop asked. “You don’t need a reason for an ice cream party!”

“Okay, well… Try not to… break anyone – anything. See you later.” Mark closed the door and headed for the shuttle bay.

He was only part-way through his pre-start checks when Chief Anderson entered the shuttle bay and waved for Mark to wait. When Anderson was aboard, Mark started the engines and steered the mini-sub out into the water to return to Center Neptune.

“Is she for real?” Mark asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Anderson said. “And before you ask, so are the Minions. Despite their… quirks, they’re a relatively cheap semi-skilled labour force, Mark, and Secretary Claybourne’s very keen for us to utilise them. If they work out, I may be able to make sufficient budgetary savings to fund a project that will replace the Conway Tapes within the next six months. It’ll remove a major point of vulnerability for us.”

“Oh,” Mark said. “I see.”

“In the meantime, just keep an open mind and remember that they’re, um… potentially… useful... uh… personnel.”

“Right,” Mark said.



Once back at Center Neptune, Mark headed for the G-Force Ready Room. He heard the odd little voice before he got to the doorway.

“Okay, traigo pik now, Princess!”

As Mark stepped into the doorway, a blast of sonic energy knocked him off his feet with a roar that shook the walls.

The guitar chord reverberated down the corridors, setting off alarms as Mark struggled to his feet. Inside the ready room, Princess stood with her hand still poised above the strings of her guitar.

“Holy cow,” she whispered. “Stuart?” she called. “Are you okay?”

“Okay!” A slightly battered minion staggered out from behind the wreckage of the ping pong table and punched the air, grinning. “Rock and roll!” it declared.

“I think… maybe you over-boosted the amp just a teensy bit too much?” Princess suggested. “Maybe if we just rigged it to go up to eleven…”

As the ringing in his ears subsided, Mark transmuted back to civilian mode and stepped into what was left of the Ready Room. “What the heck was that?” he demanded.

“Oh…” Princess attempted a smile. “Well, technically, it was A natural, but, uh, you probably mean the uh… other stuff, don’t you?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Mark said.

“Well, you know how my amp started cutting out a little here and there and I never really had the time to fix it?”

Mark took a breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the room was still a mess. “Let me guess,” he said. “Stuart fixed it.”

The little yellow minion giggled nervously.

“For a given value,” Mark added, “of ‘fixed.’”

“Uh, yeah,” Princess said.

Mark glared at the diminutive yellow repair… person? Thing?

“Please return to Doctor Gru’s laboratory, Stuart,” he said, amazed at how calm he sounded. Mark opened a channel on his communicator. “Zark, do you have ears on?”

“Yes, Commander?” 7-Zark-7 replied promptly.

“Effective as of now, no Minions are cleared to work on or have contact with anyone or anything connected with G-Force. They’re to be restricted to Science Centre and only given clearance to work on Doctor Gru’s project unless specifically authorised by me or by Chief Anderson.”

“Yes, Commander. Um… you understand that I’ll need that in writing.”

“Fine. I’ll get something to you soon, but right now I need to evacuate the sector surrounding the G-Force Ready Room due to possible structural damage. Inform Engineering and sound the alert.”

“Big Ten, Commander!”

The lights immediately began to flash orange and the evacuation alarm sounded.

“Mark, aren’t you over-reacting a little?” Princess asked as she followed her Commanding Officer out of the Ready Room to the emergency assembly point. “It was just one amplifier.”

“It could’ve damaged the windows or some of the infrastructure, Princess,” Mark pointed out. “I’m not taking any chances.”



“Three days,” Tiny grumbled. “Three days since we were able to use our Ready Room!”

Four-fifths of the G-Force team were occupying a corner booth in Center Neptune’s staff cafeteria.

“I said I was sorry,” Princess said through clenched teeth.

“It wasn’t your fault, Princess,” Mark said for what must have been the tenth time. “You weren’t to know what would happen.”

“Meanwhile,” Jason said, “we’re stuck using the staff cafeteria. At least the coffee’s good.”

“I miss my old chair,” Tiny said. “And I miss Princess’ music. And I miss watching you guys play ping pong, and I miss… Hey, where is Keyop, anyway?”

“Probably consuming his own bodyweight in ice cream,” Mark said. “Again.” He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

“C’mon, Skipper,” Jason said, “how bad can it be?”

“Don’t tempt fate,” Mark said, and winced as an alarm began to sound.

“ALERT!” 7-Zark-7 announced over the Center Neptune intercom system. “Science Center has suffered structural damage on levels seven through nine. All rescue teams, report to Hangar Three immediately! This is not a drill!”

Several staff members leapt from their seats in the cafeteria and began running.

“We’d better go see the Chief,” Mark said. He opened a channel on his communicator. “Keyop, do you have ears on?”

“I’m right here!” Keyop called from the doorway.

Mark let his breath out in a sigh of relief as he closed the comm channel. “With all the time you’ve been spending with the Minions lately, I was afraid you might be in the middle of it all over at Science Center!”

“Yeah, well,” Keyop said, “if you repeat this to anyone, I’ll deny it, but I think maybe it might actually be possible to eat too much ice cream.”

Mark stared at Keyop. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll never tell a soul, mostly because no-one would ever believe it!”




A week later at the ISO Tower, Security Chief Anderson paced the length of his office and back again. “Eight labs rendered unusable for six weeks!” he exclaimed. “We’ve got to find a way to get rid of those Minions, but they won’t leave Doctor Gru, and we need her for the shrink ray project!”

The G-Force team were arranged around the office. Jason was standing by the window, gazing out at the city skyline, Mark was leaning against Anderson’s desk, Tiny and Princess were seated on the sofa, and Keyop was sitting in Anderson’s chair, making it spin around.

“That’s because they think Doctor Gru’s the most despicable master they can find,” he said.

Anderson stopped pacing. “Say that again?”

“The Minions think Doctor Gru’s the most despicable master they can find,” Keyop reiterated. “It’s what they do. They’ve been serving the Gru family for generations, ever since the original Felonious Gru, who was a supervillain.”

“So…” Anderson said carefully, “if they could find a master more despicable than Doctor Gru…”

“They’d go and serve them,” Keyop concluded.

“Are you sure about this?” Anderson asked.

“Yeah,” Keyop said. “They told me all about it at the ice cream parties.”

Anderson’s eyes narrowed. “I think I need to find a graphic designer,” he said.



THIS IS YOUR ENEMY,’ the poster declared.

The poster featured a full-length photograph of Zoltar. Beneath his booted feet was the caption, ‘The Most Despicable Villain in the Galaxy.’

The Minion who had been given the task of putting the posters up all around the newly-repaired corridors of Science Center surveyed his work and gazed at Zoltar’s image, mouth open.

“Ooooooooooooooooooooh!” it sighed.

Underneath the caption, in smaller print, were instructions on how to hotwire a small spacecraft and reach Planet Spectra.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” the Minion breathed.

Clutching several posters to its chest, the Minion raced to find its brethren and give them the news.





Part 2


Zoltar glowered at the junior officer who had clearly drawn the short straw and been coerced into making this ridiculous report.

“Who told you to come here and tell me this?” Zoltar asked, folding his arms. “While your comrades may find this amusing, I can assure you that any waste of my time is not funny!”

“But Sire,” the junior lieutenant moaned, “it’s true! We found the crash site and there really were all these strange yellow creatures. Private Harek took video!”

“Which you conveniently do not possess,” Zoltar concluded darkly.

“Sire, please…” The young man froze at the sound of high-pitched chattering. “Oh, no,” he said. “They’re here!”

The doors of the audience chamber creaked open and Zoltar’s gaze was drawn to a point close to the floor where a small yellow creature, roughly cylindrical in shape, wearing goggles over its large brown eyes, peered up at him. The creature stepped inside. It was sporting a pair of blue dungarees, black boots and matching gloves.

The creature grinned and waved. “Bello!” it declared happily.

Abruptly the doors swung wide and a wave of yellow creatures poured into the audience chamber, knocking the advance scout over and bearing it forward as they ran toward the dais.

“Stop!” Zoltar ordered, pitching his voice to carry. He held out one commanding hand.

The yellow creatures froze, gazing up at him. A few muttered and were hushed by their fellows.

“How dare you come unannounced into my presence!” Zoltar said, sneering at them.

Mouths opened and eyes widened. “Oooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!” they sighed, seemingly awed.

The advance scout fought its way to the front of the mob and addressed its fellows: “See? Ka was to! Neb ta meja despicable villain een ta Galaxy! Zoltar!” This last was presented with a flourish and a grin.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!” sighed the yellow creatures, gazing adoringly at Zoltar.

Zoltar paced a short distance along the edge of the dais and back again. “Why are you here?” he asked in his most imperious tones.

“Lapa nunu a caree,” said the scout. It pulled a sheaf of papers out of the back pocket of its dungarees and proffered them hopefully.

Zoltar gestured to the young lieutenant who edged forward, took the papers and examined them.

“It’s a… a job application, Sire,” the lieutenant said.

Zoltar held out a purple gloved hand for the papers and took them. He returned to the throne, sat down and began to read.

Once he reached the end of the last page, he stood up and began to laugh. “Now the Galaxy will be mine!” he declared. “With my faithful Minions at my side, I cannot fail! BWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Sri tew, paprikas!” declared the scout, and the Minions cheered.



On far away planet Earth. G-Force were crammed in to the confines of Nerve Center, squinting at the screens of dots and geometric patterns which were being interpreted by 7-Zark-7.

“It seems the Minions have landed on Spectra,” Zark said. “They’ve been intercepted by Spectran troops and have made their way to the capital. If Zoltar accepts them…”

“We can only hope,” Mark said.

“And given that the Federation’s just cornered the market on bananas,” Tiny added, “he’s in for some serious labour problems!”

“Keyop,” Mark said, “if your idea works, it could end the war.”

“So what do we do now, Commander?” Princess asked.

“We wait,” Mark said.

“For the Minions to do what they do best,” Jason concluded. “And in the meantime, we can move back in to Center Neptune. Maybe our Ready Room’ll stay repaired now that the Minions have stopped ‘helping’ us.”

“Yeah,” Keyop said. “I’m going to miss the ice cream parties, though. Those guys really knew how to throw an ice cream party.”




Translations

MINIONESE: Bello!
ENGLISH: Hello!

MINIONESE: Pata mi way?
ENGLISH: Going my way?

MINIONESE: No sopa!
ENGLISH: No problem!

MINIONESE: No way! Pem nosvum pik en Kevin.
ENGLISH: No way! We tested it on Kevin.

MINIONESE: Dad be tem een a foop dex.
ENGLISH: He’ll be fine in a few days.

MINIONESE: Okay, traigo pik now, Princess.
ENGLISH: Okay, try it now, Princess.

MINIONESE: See? Ka was to! Neb ta meja despicable villain een ta Galaxy!
ENGLISH: See? I told you! He’s the most despicable villain in the Galaxy!

MINIONESE: Lapa nunu a caree.
ENGLISH: Looking for a job.

MINIONESE: Sri tew, paprikas!
ENGLISH: We’re hired, boys!
Never trust an atom: they make up everything.

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ElectricWhite
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Re: Despicable

Post by ElectricWhite » Thu Feb 15, 2018 11:08 pm

So, are you fluent in Minionese, or do you have an English/Minionese-Minionese/English dictionary?
Q: What do stars and planets like to read?
A: Comet books! :lol:

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GrumpyGhostOwl
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Re: Despicable

Post by GrumpyGhostOwl » Thu Feb 15, 2018 11:47 pm

While I'm very fond of the Minions, I don't speak Minionese.

Online Minionese translator.

The first few minutes of the Minions movie were probably the funniest (the bit where Geoffrey Rush is narrating the history of the Minions) and that was what gave me the idea of inflicting them on Zoltar.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NgKz3ZInzA
Never trust an atom: they make up everything.

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