Chapter Text
If any place on Mobius deserved a catchy theme, Mount Splatterhorn was most certainly it. Or at least, on the list. Sonic knew some pretty cool places, after all. Maybe he should actually make a list and hand it over to Catty Carlisle. Quick as could be, the hedgehog jotted the idea down and shoved the mental notepad back into his head. Once he was done, his attention returned to the campfire beside him.
It wasn't long before the lovely smell of chilidogs hit his nose so hard he fell over.
Tails, his adorable little buddy, ignored this entirely. His tails wagged as he licked his teeth. It was only a matter of time before the fluffball pounced on their dinner. Wiggling claws threatened to eat them out of sleeping bag and backpack.
“The early bird gets the worm,” Sonic said. “But I thought we cleared up that issue years ago.”
It took a moment for the comment to register. Sonic imagined a little ca-ching sound going off as the kit turned towards him, confusion written all over his face.
“It’s not early at all, Sonic,” Tails pointed out. “We’re making dinner.”
“When are we not early for something?” Sonic waved off the concern. “Throwing a wrench into the dumbbots’ traps, tossing a spanner into Robuttnick’s machines, you get it.”
“That’s not how those idioms go.”
Sonic rested his hands under his head and crossed one leg over the other. “Idioms schmidioms. Who made you master of mixed metaphors?”
Tails squinted at him. “What’s the name of that last one, again?”
“Alliteration.”
The almost-five-year-old nodded, completely serious. “You can be the alliterative ace, then. I’d bet you could come up with something better than the Super Special Sonic Search and Smash Squad.”
Sonic cackled. It was hard not to when insulting his nemesis, especially when his little bud was the one doing it. “Y’know, one of these days we should get some playwrights costumes! I think we could really make ‘em work.”
“Yeah!” Tails said. His excitement only increased—along with his distance from the ground—once he noticed that the chilidogs finished cooking.
Sonic got up to grab the food, pulling a hovering Tails back down as he passed by. This knocked him out of his stupor, and he went to grab the buns and cheese.
Before too long, they were sitting side-by-side, underneath a tree, munching on the delicious meal. The river rushed by while a nice breeze ruffled their fur and quills.
Tails sighed in contentment. “There’s nothing like a chilidog on a nice summer day.”
“And there’s no place like Mount Splatterhorn!” Sonic continued. He tended to see something special in most new places.
“Mhm-hmm,” the fox nodded. “Just the place to get away from all the world’s troubles, especially Robotnik!” He took another bite from his chillidog. “Wonder what he’s up to.”
Sonic rubbed his finger under his nose. “It has been a few days, hasn’t it? He’s probably hatching some big plan we’ll have to interrupt.” He leaned back, holding up his chillidog for a toast. “Right now, it’s time to kick back and chill out with some chili!”
In an instant, a large, heavy cloud dropped out of the sky. No warning, no watch even. Sonic would need to write a strongly worded letter to the local weather station, because they had clearly settled for a long winter’s nap in the middle of summer.
Or maybe the timing was perfect. Snow piled up on top of them all at once. It was less of a gentle fall and more of a sudden bombardment of bazillions of tiny intricately shaped cannonballs.
Sonic kicked and flailed until his head was above the snow bank. He shivered, completely unprepared to hibernate at this time of year.
Beside him, Tails huffed and puffed. His fur poofed up as much as it could in their cold confinements.
“Brrrrrr!” His form shivered. Little patches of ice stuck to his brown fur. “What was that?”
Sonic, through chattering teeth, grit out an answer. “Seems our little picnic has been put on ice! And I know just who is responsible!”
Sonic spun out of the mound, landing on top and raring to go. He grabbed Tails by the scruff. The kit squeaked in surprise as Sonic lifted him out. The little fox shook himself dry while his brother gave him a quick once-over.
Tails opened his mouth. A faint high pitched crowing from the top of the mountain changed the subject before it was even decided on.
“Did ya hear that, Sonic?” Tails asked because he was a proud exposition hook.
“Mhm-hmmmmm.” The hedgehog crossed his arms and tapped his foot.
Tails pointed to a small green robot with skis instead of treads pulling a man-made chicken down the mountain slopes in a sled. The chicken screamed in terror.
“It’s those nimrods! Scratch and Grounder!” The little fox yelled.
Sonic spun and dug through the snow around them, collecting their camping gear. He shoved it all in the backpack and resumed his place beside a now wind-blown Tails.
Grabbing his brother’s hand, Sonic said, “We gotta pack, Mac!”
The two of them flew down the steep piles of snow and out of the robots’ path.
Let us shift our focus, dear reader, to the pair of dumb bots hurtling down the snowy slopes.
You see, Scratch and Grounder were currently implementing the first step in one of Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s many (many) dastardly plans to take over Mobius.
This week, the doctor hoped to freeze everyone into popsicles. This way, there would be no opposition to him doing anything he wanted. Unfortunately, a completely iced-out world wasn’t conducive to his rule, nor was it very conductive.
Thus, Eggman needed some other way to keep humans, mobians, and robots alike under his thumb. His solution? Servitude chips.
He was still working out the kinks of the whole project. Scratcher and Grounder happily… volunteered… to be guinea pigs for the current model of the device. While they were sucking up to Robotnik more than usual–which really was saying something– the full effects had yet to be studied.
Currently, they were following their Glorious Leader’s instructions to a T. That being, chase and capture Sonic, the partycrasher of the Freezomatic Ray’s debut. They could even get his foxy friend, too, as a bonus.
And that, dear readers, is how the two robots ended up hurtling down the icy slopes of Mount Splatterhorn in the middle of a beautiful summer day.
The two of them scraped across a bridge made of ice. Scratch’s scream drowned out the noise.
Once they were on the other side, the chicken exclaimed, “Hey! You’re actually getting pretty good at this!”
“I’m programmed on how to deal with 27 different skiing situations!”
“How many are there?”
“At least 28!” Grounder said proudly. He tapped a claw on his cheek. “I’m not so good at ski jumps. And many other things.”
“WHAT?!” Scratch screeched. He pointed to the ramp they were on a one-way track towards, blubbering and clucking in a panic.
“Huh?” Grounder looked at where Scratch was pointing, and promptly yelled. “Oh–I’d better stop!!!!” He switched out the skis for cleats, which slowed him down just enough. His metal and rubber fought valiantly against the ice. If he had lungs, he would have been breathless by the time he skidded to a stop at the base of the ramp. Relieved, his steel shoulders slumped.
Scratch, still in a sled, flew off the side of the mountain. The rope connecting the sled to Grounder dragged him up behind his partner.
“AHHHHHHHHH!”
The robots landed in a pile of snow. The heat from their systems melted the bits of ice that got past their metal plating. Scratch’s sled flipped over and landed on top of them. Their circuits started to spark from all of the chaos.
“The agony!” Grounder’s muffled yells caught the attention of a passing supersonic hedgehog.
Groaning, Sonic stopped in front of the two robots. Tails flew ahead a little bit, quickly doubling back to stare at the struggling duo.
Sonic, very heroically, stood up straight and pointed an accusing finger at the snow pile.
“What are you two stooges doing here?”
Scratch lifted one side of the sled up, itching the top of his head with his other hand. “We’re… blindly serving our wonderfully heinous Master?”
“Yeah!” Grounder, still under his side of the sled, yelled in agreement. “We got these servitude chips that make us completely obedient to our glorious leader!”
Sonic rubbed his nose, wondering. What kind of plan was this? Ice rays and mind control? Those two things went together like chilidogs and cold medicine. Of course, if Robotnik wasn’t so obsessed with eggs, he would probably enjoy a snack that disgusting. Sonic figured it made sense from that perspective.
“‘Glorious leader?’” Tails echoed. He smirked and leaned forward, hands on his hips. “I bet he installed those chips because you two were so dumb that you forgot you work for him.”
A laugh crackled up Sonic’s spine like lightning. His little bud was getting cooler by the day.
Grounder finally dug himself out enough that, with Scratch’s help, he was able to escape the snow and the sled. “Uh… I guess so,” he replied, artificial eyes completely empty. Scratch was no better.
Ohhhhhhh, now there was an opportunity for some fun.
“Tails is right, you guys are that dumb.” Sonic jammed his thumb into his chest. “If you forgot that I’m your glorious leader.”
“Eh?” Scratch replied, not denying the absurd lie.
“What? Sonic…” Tails took a second to catch on. Once he did, he immediately started playing along. “Right! We came by because Sonic wanted an update on the evil plan!”
Grounder held up a limb. “Oh, oh! I know!”
Sonic gestured for him to answer.
“We were testing the Ultra-Freeze O-Matic!”
“So we could freeze everyone and install servitude chips in them!”
Tails’ tails puffed up in shock. Sonic stepped forwards, eyes narrowing. He tried not to give away his disgust at the idea.
Through bared teeth, he said, “How hideously clever of me. Take me to the Freeze-O-Matic. I need to make some adjustments.”
“Follow us!”
Part of the way up and over the mountain, Sonic nearly slipped on some ice. Tails went to catch him, but Scratch was closer. The fake chicken grabbed the hedgehog and held him up.
“Oh glorious leader, are you okay!”
“I’m fine.”
“Here, Master!” Grounder shifted a few things around, fixing up Sonic a place to sit on his back. Scratch plopped him down. The drill-robot took to his new role as a mount quickly.
“Wow,” Tails said, drifting down to fly next to Grounder. “Y’know, Sonic, this is kinda cool.”
“Isn’t it?” Sonic smiled back.
“Do you need anything else, O’ Glorious Master?”
Said master hummed in thought.
“How ‘bout some hot chocolate?” Tails suggested.
“That sounds good! You heard him, some cocoa please!”
Scratch ran up to rip open Grounder’s chest plating. He dug around a little bit, throwing out some junk. A pair of sparkly sunglasses, a popsicle replica of the solar system, a painting of a swan… Finally! Hot cocoa! With marshmallows!
Scratch handed the cup to Sonic, who handed it to Tails.
The warm drink was slurped up almost immediately, leaving a mustache on Tails’ muzzle. He quickly lapped it up, and handed the empty mug back to Grounder. “Delicious! Thanks!”
Both heroes blinked, the word feeling so alien in this context.
The hedgehog chose to be pleased with it. His little bro was certainly taking those life lessons to heart!
“No problem, uhhhhh.” Scratch tapped his chin. “What exactly do we call you?”
Grounder, forgetting to return the mug to its compartment–or even close it–freaked out. He swung around and bowed so deeply that his face planted in the snow. The force knocked Sonic off his back and into a snow bank. He seemed to be apologizing, but it was impossible to hear the specifics.
Scratch immediately copied this show of subservience, copying his partner. His entire head seemed to get stuck under the snow. As soon as he realized his predicament, his chicken limbs flailed as he attempted to escape. One of his legs kicked Tails, sending him on a short flight.
“Ow!” The fox cried out–more from shock than pain. Sonic quickly got to his feet and caught him. A quick check revealed that Tails was fine.
The older of the two sighed, slinging an arm over his friend. “Man, these nicombots are just as dangerous when they’re trying to help us!”
“Mhm, at least the cocoa was good.”
Grounder finally managed to escape the snow, throwing his arms up in jubilation. Sonic rolled his eyes at the display. Mid-roll, the sight of a growing mass of white caught his attention.
“Uh-oh.”
Scratch finally escaped, and his head snapped toward his nemesis-turned-master. “What’s happening?”
“We’re about to get splattered!” Tails yelled. That explains the name.
Grounder jumped to grasp at Sonic’s feet. “Save us, Master!”
“Get off!” Sonic ordered. He sped off to meet the avalanche. If he was fast enough (and he always was) he could probably create some sort of cyclone, set up a barrier, or even produce enough heat to melt the snow.
Tails hopped into the sky, prepared to fly off if needed. The wails of his new companions kept him close to the ground, for now.
“Can’t you guys do anything?” he yelled.
“Who? Us?” Grounder pointed at himself.
Tails groaned. “No, I meant the sparkly sunglasses…” he replied sarcastically. When the two robots failed to hear it, he threw his hands out in frustration. “Of course I mean you! You can drill, right? Why don’t you create a hole or something for the snow?”
Grounder seemed to consider this, before tensing. “Hey! You’re not our Master! Why should we listen to you?”
“Excellent question, my idiotic underling!”
Tails gasped at the voice. On instinct, he immediately tried to fly towards Sonic. A net shot down his attempt. Gravity re-staked its claim on him.
The little fox twisted and turned. Before he had a chance to scream or escape, a metal hand picked the net up. He dangled in his prison from a drone.
“Let me go, you stupid-heads!”
“Now, now, none of that, brat,” Robotnik spoke through the drone’s speakers. It shook the kid around a bit, just to be a bully. “What do you two think you’re doing?”
“Uhhhh,” Grounder struggled. “Following our Master’s orders, I’m pretty sure.”
“Interesting, last I checked, I had not ordered you to serve that rodent or the fox hot cocoa.” He spoke the words as if the delicious drink was made of fermented toxic waste.
Scratch’s eyes widened. He stood up straight and saluted. “Oh, right, you’re our Master. Sorry about that boss!”
Grounder cried out in shock and realization. “Really sorry!”
“Gah! We can discuss this later. By which I mean, you can join ranks with Coconuts back at the lair. Effective immediately.” The drone began flying away, with Tails still in its grip.
“Sonic!”
“Shut up!”
The shout was just enough for the hedgehog in question to turn his head from where he’d been running up and down the mountain in an attempt to shift the course of the avalanche.
“Tails!” Without a second thought, he changed course.
A sudden chill sapped his energy. Glancing up, he saw that even more snow was coming down. He was losing traction with every shiver.
The drone carried Tails across a large ditch. The little guy tried to claw at the net while spewing insults at Robotnik the entire way.
Scratch and Grounder raced across a rickety old bridge. As soon as they reached the other side, they cut it. The gap was too wide for Sonic to jump on his own.
He started hyperventilating, desperately searching for a way across.
“Sonic!”
Tails futilely reached a hand out through the gaps in the net. The drone carried him off into the distance, taking no heed of Sonic’s outstretched arm.