Chapter 141: The Broken Laptop
The morning sun beat down on the sprawling green park, casting long shadows across the rolling hills.
"Woohoo!"
The cheer echoed through the crisp air. Klein, Ben, and Gwen sat perched atop thick blocks of solid ice, hurtling down a steep grassy incline. It was a simple, makeshift thrill ride, but the rush of wind against their faces made it undeniably fun.
"Whoa! That was awesome!" Ben scrambled off his rapidly melting ice block, his eyes sparkling with adrenaline. He spun around, jabbing a finger toward a massive, towering hill in the distance. "Let's kick it up a notch! I'm hitting that one next!"
Klein and Gwen followed his gaze. The hill was practically a mountain by park standards, but the sheer distance to the peak was daunting.
Gwen crossed her arms, leveling a deadpan stare at her cousin. "Did sitting on that ice freeze your brain, Dweeb? You'd pass out from exhaustion just dragging that block all the way to the top before you even started sliding."
"Shows what you know, Dork. It won't be tiring at all."
Ben slapped the dial of the Omnitrix. A brilliant emerald flash illuminated the grass. Where Ben stood a second ago, the sleek, feline form of Fasttrack now crouched. Without missing a beat, he hoisted his heavy ice block and blurred into a streak of blue and black, zipping straight up the massive incline in the blink of an eye.
"Make way for the main event!" Fasttrack's voice echoed from the peak. He dropped the ice block, popped into a squat on top of it, and used his muscular tail to shove off the ground with explosive force.
"Woohoo!"
The makeshift sled rocketed down the hill at breakneck speed. Grass blades whipped past in a green blur.
"Look out! Coming through! Excuse me!"
Gravity and momentum turned him into a furry missile. He shot past picnickers and dog walkers, his speed so intense that he managed to casually swipe a spicy chili cheese dog right out of a stunned jogger's hand along the way. He took a massive bite, grinning around the stolen snack.
"Uh oh."
His grin vanished. He hadn't scouted the landing zone. A sharp, unexpected ridge jutted out from the base of the hill. The ice block hit the ramp at top speed, launching Fasttrack straight into the air.
"Whoa-ah-ah-ah!"
He flailed, desperately trying to maintain his balance as gravity reclaimed him. The ice block slammed back onto the grass, miraculously staying upright, but the friction was entirely gone. He was hydroplaning across the dew-slicked lawn with zero brakes.
He skidded to a violent halt right in front of a mother and her young son enjoying a quiet morning stroll. The intense friction from the high-speed slide had completely obliterated the ice. Fasttrack stood frozen in an awkward squat, a massive puddle of melted water pooling directly beneath his legs.
The little boy blinked, pointing a tiny finger at the alien. "Mommy, why did the kitty monster wet his pants?"
Fasttrack looked down. The water stain spread outward from his boots, looking incredibly damning. A deep, mortified flush crept beneath his blue fur. He slowly covered his face with his hands, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole.
Later that evening, the crickets chirped a steady rhythm outside the Rustbucket. Klein and Gwen had just returned from a quiet walk through the nearby woods, enjoying the cool night breeze. Klein pulled the heavy metal door open, stepping inside the RV with Gwen right behind him.
The moment they entered, the glow of a screen illuminated the dim interior. Ben was sprawled comfortably on the booth sofa, his fingers tapping away on Gwen's brand-new laptop.
Gwen's eyes narrowed instantly. She marched over, planting a hand firmly on her hip. "Excuse me. Care to explain exactly what you think you're doing?"
"Hmm? Is that a trick question?" Ben didn't even bother looking up from the screen. "I'm checking the latest updates on the Sumo Slammers blog."
He completely ignored her rising temper. He knew she'd be mad, but for exclusive Sumo Slammers lore, facing Gwen's wrath was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
"Without asking?!" Gwen's voice jumped an octave. "That is my brand-new laptop! You don't just grab people's things, Dweeb!"
"Oh, fine. Gwen, dearest cousin, may I please borrow your computer?" Ben mocked, rolling his eyes. "See? You were going to say no anyway. Why bother wasting time asking?"
He turned back to the screen, ready to scroll down to the next post, when the display suddenly flickered. A sharp buzzing sound popped from the speakers, and the screen went pitch black.
Ben froze. His reflection stared back at him from the dead monitor.
He broke it.
A cold sweat instantly broke out across his forehead. His eyes darted frantically between the lifeless keyboard and Gwen's tapping foot. If she found out he broke her prized possession, she would murder him. Worse, Klein would definitely use this as an excuse to subject him to another one of his 'special training' beatdowns.
Panic completely short-circuited his brain. In his sheer terror, he completely forgot that a quick transformation into Upgrade could have fixed the hardware in seconds.
"Uh... heh heh heh..." Ben forced out a painfully awkward, high-pitched laugh. He abruptly slammed the laptop shut, tucked it under his arm like a football, and shimmied past a bewildered Gwen. Before she could react, he bolted straight into the tiny RV bathroom.
The lock clicked into place.
Klein, who had already settled onto the top bunk with a book, lowered the pages. He raised an eyebrow, his lazy gaze shifting toward the bathroom door. Ben reeked of guilt. Something was definitely fishy.
Inside the cramped bathroom, Ben sat on the closed toilet lid, frantically mashing the power button. "Come on, come on, don't do this to me," he whispered, tapping the screen, wiggling the hinges, and blowing into the vents. Nothing. The laptop remained a very expensive brick.
Heavy footsteps stomped right up to the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Ben Tennyson! Open this door right now!" Gwen yelled, her patience entirely evaporated.
The sheer fury in her voice made Ben's stomach drop. He hugged the dead laptop to his chest, sweating bullets.
Grandpa Max, hearing the commotion, stepped out from the driver's cabin, a stern frown creasing his face. "Ben! Don't be stubborn! You need to take responsibility for your actions! We don't need a repeat of the 'Fasttrack puddle' incident from the park today!"
Ben cringed at the reminder of his earlier humiliation. He gave the power button one last, desperate press. Still nothing. "Oh, man. This is bad. This is really, really bad," he muttered, running a hand through his shaggy hair.
Out of options and desperate for a distraction, Ben slowly unlocked the door. He cracked it open just an inch, poking his head out with the widest, most innocent smile he could muster. "Hey! You know what? I just had a fantastic idea. Let's go out! Family bonding time!"
Grandpa Max and Gwen exchanged a baffled look. The sudden pivot gave them whiplash.
"Seriously!" Ben pushed the door open a little wider, keeping the laptop hidden behind his back. "You can pick the place, Gwen! Anywhere you want, whatever you want to do. I'll even go ask Klein to come with us!"
He mentally prepared himself to beg on his hands and knees if he had to. He knew the formula: if Klein agreed to go, Gwen would drop the laptop issue and follow along immediately.
Gwen's anger faltered, replaced by deep suspicion. "Really? Anywhere I want?" She didn't trust him for a second, but the offer was too tempting to pass up.
An hour later, Ben found himself trapped in a dimly lit, bohemian coffee shop. A man in a turtleneck was on stage, agonizingly whispering verses about autumn leaves and existential dread.
"Ah, this is simply wonderful," Gwen whispered, leaning over with a wicked, playful smirk. "I just love indoor poetry recitations. How about you, Ben? Enjoying the cultural enrichment?"
She still had no idea what he was hiding, but watching him squirm in absolute agony was a fantastic down payment on whatever revenge she was owed.
"Two words: bo-ring," Ben grumbled through gritted teeth. Unable to take another second of the monotone rhyming, he shoved his hands into his pockets and slipped out the back door of the café.
The cool night air was a massive relief. He kicked a pebble down the alleyway, turning the corner. As he passed a brick wall plastered with faded flyers, a bright neon-yellow poster caught his eye.
He stepped closer, reading the bold black text aloud. "Are you tough enough to claim the championship? Prove your might in the underground wrestling arena and walk away with a $10,000 cash prize!"
Ben's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Dollar signs practically flashed in his pupils. "Now I have money to buy a computer."
It was the perfect solution. He didn't get an allowance, and even if he did, saving up enough for a high-end laptop would take years. But with the Omnitrix? A wrestling tournament would be a walk in the park.
He quickly spun around, rushing back into the café to find his family. He approached their table, dramatically stretching his arms and letting out a loud, incredibly fake yawn. "Heh~ Ahhh~ Man, look at the time. It's getting super late. I'm exhausted. Let's head back to the Rustbucket and get some sleep."
Grandpa Max blinked, looking down at a tourist pamphlet in his hands. "Really? That's a shame. There's a historic old lumber mill just outside of town. I was planning to take us there for a midnight tour."
"Nope! Too tired! Let's go!" Ben grabbed Max by the sleeve, practically dragging the large man toward the exit.
Klein watched Ben's retreating back, his eyes narrowing slightly. The kid was practically vibrating with nervous energy. There was zero chance he was actually sleepy.
Klein stepped out of the café, his gaze casually sweeping the alleyway. It didn't take long for him to spot the glaring neon-yellow poster plastered on the brick wall.
Underground Wrestling? $10,000 prize?
Klein's lips twitched upward in a faint, knowing smirk. The broken laptop. The sudden desire for family bonding. The fake yawning. The puzzle pieces clicked together perfectly.
"Klein, come on! Let's go before he starts whining again," Gwen called out from the sidewalk.
"Coming," Klein replied smoothly. He tucked his hands into his pockets and strolled after her, already anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold.
Hours later, the Rustbucket was completely dark, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the blinds. The only sound was Grandpa Max's rhythmic snoring from the front cabin.
Ben lay wide awake. Usually, he hated being relegated to the bottom bunk, but tonight, it was a tactical advantage. He threw off his covers, moving with agonizing slowness.
He held his breath, tiptoeing past the sleeping forms of his family. He reached the heavy side door, gripping the handle and pulling it open inch by inch to avoid the squeak of the hinges. Slipping out into the cool night air, he gently clicked the door shut behind him.
The moment the latch clicked, a pair of calm, sharp eyes opened in the darkness of the top bunk.
Klein sat up silently. He glanced over at Gwen, who was sleeping peacefully, completely oblivious to her cousin's midnight heist. With the fluid, soundless grace of a phantom, Klein dropped down from the bunk. He grabbed his jacket, slipped out the door, and vanished into the shadows, following the trail of the runaway wrestler.
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