Nameless Perversion

by Roman Bulygin

translated by Aivars "Aiva" Liepa



     Gadget, Chip, Dale, Monty and Zipper are (C) Disney. Lets
not shatter their illusions. :-)


Awakening was hard. Head threated to split apart, mouth was dry as Arisona desert into midday at summer solstice. Ter- rible and newer before known feelings. Chip weakly rolled on side and sat up. "Who?.. Where?..." He looked around. All things around him were well known - the bottom of top bunk, the chair, the table, whe window. He was into his own room, into RR Headquarters. "Ahhh... Of course..." Then surfaced other memories. First misty, they slowly took the sharpness and colour. He and Dale arguing at the Gadgets workshop... The claim of the best driver of Rangermobile... Then he already at the wheel, driving into fast frenzy. He will show Dale, who here is the best... The sharp turn... Rangermobile slides out of control... Brick wall ahead... The barrel... Spirit... Spirit everywhere... After that there were only some bright specks of rainbow- coloured objects, moving chaotically before his eyes. While Chip was trying to fill the gaps in his memory, his body was already taking care about more prosaic necessarities. His legs were on their own, carrying him toward the bathroom, and he with sigh of relief pushed head under the could water pipe. After few mins of downpour he started feel a bit better. At least, he no more was afraid, his head will explode. He wasnt hungry, but by pure reflex turned toward kitchen, trying by the aroma in air catch info of what will be for the dinner. "I would have bet, it's Dale's turn to cook, but smells for cheese... Be it Monty's way, whole world would eat only cheese." "Hai, Monty," Chip murmured, trying sound as good as usu- ally, and failing terribly. "I feel awful today," he added la- ter, seeing Monty not falling for the lies. Monty turned to him. From his shoulder Zipper too looked at the unofficial Rangers leader. "Hai, Chip", he answered in- to some mild and consoling voice. "Dont worry. It can happen with everyone." Something clicked into Chip's head. Even headpain stepped back for a moment. "Happen what?" he said weakly. "What happened. And now it is done and cant be undone anymore", Monty answered into same mild sad voice. Zipper squ- eaked something in agreement and stretched on his big friends shoulder. Chip froze. He suspected, there had happened something, he didn't remember, but something BAD? Being too afraid to ask, he turned around and decided to return to his room. Chip walked down the corridor, trying to sort his fee- lings after the swimming into spirit pool. Suddenly from the faceless specks of colours appeared Gadget's face. Terrified Gadget's face. Before he remembered more, he collided with the Dale coming in opposite direction. "Greetings, Dale." "Gree-etings..." Dale answered into stretched and tea- singly slow voice. "Just look at our fearless leader, he does not remember what he did yesterday, does he?" Not giving Chip any chances to object, he turned and walked toward the kitc- hen. Chip stood into the corridor for a few moments, then tur- ned around and followed Dale. Gadget's face was still into his mind. "What did i do? Was it something with her? I cant remem- ber" Then a bad thought crawled into his mind. "It cant be that i..." Chip suddenly turned beetle-red. It was time for breakfast. Dale and Monty already were into common room. It looked that Zipper had declined to join company. And Gadget was missing too. Three men sat at the table without the single word exc- hanged. Chip wasnt hungry, but was filling his stomach with cheese pancakes on automatic, while trying to sort his memori- es. Memories, that were turning out darker and darker... Then into doorway appeared Gadget. She had'nt the casual smile on her face. She took a short look at all sitting at the table, and crossed eyes with Chip. Then she shook head, murmu- red something too low for Chip to hear, closed face with hands and run away. From the corridor sounded the gasp. As from la- ugh. Or as from someone crying. Chip stuffed remains of pancake into mouth, stood up and into fast steps moved to his room. Dale into surprise looked after him. "Then that happened... What have i done..." single tho- ught was beating into his head into same rhytm his heart was jumping at his ribs. Catching some clothes and belongings into dust-bag, he now dashed toward the exit. "I have to leave! I can't stay here anymore! And why i did allow Dale to tease me into that race?! Be I more cool-he- aded, nothing of this may have happened..." he was repeating into the selfpity, as he run out of the Headquarters. "How I would look her into eyes." Then he froze. "Gadget! How SHE will feel my escape?! As the treason?! What a lowlife I am!" Chip turned around. Into slow but steady steps he moved back into treehouse. "I need to talk with them all. To explain. And I need to talk with Gadget." Deciding that, he pulled in air and opened doors to the common room. All Rangers were sitting around the round table. "... left! Dale, its time to end this all!" It was Gadget's voice. She was angry, but she sounded li- ke the same old Gadget. "Only a bit more!" Dale whined. Chip stepped in, but the other four were too immersed in- to conversation to notice him. "You're right, luv. I will go and explain to Chip, he simply slept thirty six hours after that spirit bath..." Monty started to rise. "WHAT?!!" Chip jumped to the center of room, puling hands into fists. "So its all is Your imagination. You... You..." Monty managed to cover Dale with his massive back, before Chip reached the terrified chipmunk. "Chip, we all were guilty. We did get too carried on. Sorry," Gadget stepped in too. Chip lovered his hands and stopped attempts to crush Da- le's throat. "Sorry, Chipper. I only wanted to teach You for being so selfconfident", Dale's nose varily appeared from below Monty's elbow. "And we all agreed to support this stupid game", Monty ended. Chip looked at them all, and sighted. "I have already got the worst lesson. By getting into that barrel in first place." The End.

© Roman Bulygin