Disclaimer: I make no money off of this (although it would be nice) and I created this just for the sheer shardin' fun of it. I don't own the Biker Mice from Mars or Cinderella, which is property of Disney. Thanks muchly to Pyrobob for planting this idea in my whacked out gray clay. *grins* Enjoy, Boskies!

Cinderella . . . With a Biker Twist

© Rogue 1998

Charley sighed as she switched off the TV to the last strains of music from "Cinderella", the Disney animated version.

The guys were at Quigley Field, watching the Nubs game, and so that gave Charley the chance to watch what SHE wanted, for a change. Since she wanted a change from guns and bombs and rock music, she had opted for a Disney classic.
She yawned as she noticed that it was past 11:30 PM. I might as well get some sleep, she thought. No telling when Limburger will cause trouble again.
As she climbed into her soft, comfortable bed and pulled the sheet and blanket up around her, her thoughts drifted to mice and bad guys as she went to sleep . . .

* * * * *

Charley awoke to a bright sunny morning and bounded out of bed with bright and cheery enthusiasm.

She strode to the window of her bedroom over her garage and threw it open, inhaling the smog-filled Chicago air. She smiled as she gazed out about the war-torn neighborhood. She could feel a song coming on.
"Fairy tails can come true . . . It can happen to you . . . If you're a mouse at heart . . . A mouse at heart . . ."
Sashaying about, she tidied up her room, making the bed as she trilled her song. Then she went downstairs and took a shower, then stepped out and dried off and got dressed. She moved about the garage, humming a sprightly tune as she tidied the tools and workspaces. Then she heard the sound of Martian motorcycles off in the distance.
"Oh!" she said happily. "The guys are coming! This will make the morning feel right!"
She opened the garage doors and they rode in. she smiled brightly at them as they stood and pulled off their helmets.
"Sup, sup, Charley-girl!" Throttle said, smiling happily.
"Yeah, sup, sup, Charley-ma'am!" Modo echoed.
"Sup, sup, sweetheart! What's for breakfast, sup, sup?" Vinnie asked with an endearingly arrogant grin.
Then all three wiggled their noses at her.
Smiling happily at the sight of them, Charley clasped her hands together in front of her and said with feeling, "Why, good morning, fellas. It's so pretty out today, isn't it?"
"Yeah, sup, sup, Charley-girl. What's the eats?" Vinnie said, his ears twitching.
"Why, Vinnie. Mind your manners," she admonished lightly, with a forgiving smile. "I'll fix your hotdogs in just a moment."
"Goody!" Modo said, and with a jouncing trot-walk that ALMOST resembled a skip, Modo made his way over to the kitchen, followed by his bros.
Charley just sighed, smiled fondly, and shook her head. What would she do without her dear, dear friends??
Presently, they were all seated at the table and eating their food. "So, Throttle, what are you going to do today?" Charley asked sweetly.
"Sup, sup! We're gonna go grind ol' Grunion Guts into the ground, right, guys?" Throttles stated with an engaging grin, his nose wiggling.
"Sup, sup! Right on, bro.!" Modo agreed.
"Yeah! We'll kick his hali-butt! Sup, sup!" Vinnie echoed.
"Well! When are we going?" she asked with a smile, as if they were planning an outdoor picnic.
The other three smiled sweetly at her, almost condescendingly. "Sup, sup, Charley-girl, but I don't think you ought to join us. You gotta watch out for Limburgee, he meeeeean . . ."
The other two nodded vigorously and echoed the statement.
She sighed and pouted a little, and the three macho mice weakened.
"Okay, okay, Charley-girl. You can go with us if you promise to stay out of the way and let us take care o' mean ol' Limburgee, sup, sup?" Vinnie asked.
She smiled at him fondly and replied laughingly, "Sup, sup, Vinnie. I'll stay out of the way."
The three mice sat back with satisfied smiles, their noses wiggling, and consumed the rest of their food, satisfied.

* * * * *

Limburger faced them on all fours and with an evil grin.

The fat fish-faced felon hopped and pranced about his office, bent over, with his feet and hands on the floor, and a maniacal grin on his mouth.
The really funny part was that he never once spoke a word. The only noises he made were guppy gopper noises. And when he wanted something done, he tossed his head with an arch look at Karbunkle, who wheezed and said, "Yes, Your Buttery Richness! Right away!" as though he knew what Limburger wanted.
"Limburgee! We're here to stop you, sup, sup!" Throttle announced.
"Yeah, so give it up, sup, sup!" Modo echoed, his eye glowing.
"Or you're cheese sushi, sup, sup!" Vinnie added with a snarl.
"Ooooooh, or you're cheese sushi!" said a deep male voice, mimicking Vinnie's comment. They looked off to the left and saw the two Wicked Step Goons, Greaseasia and Fredella, with their curly brown hair and pink and dark green rompers.
"Nobody asked you, sup, sup!" Throttle growled.
"But we're telling you anyway, since we're better than you," Fredella said in his whiny, nasal voice, wrinkling his bulbous nose.
Suddenly, a man came striding into the room in a white outfit of white shirt, white tie, white pants and boots, and white trench coat. He had shaggy hair and a scruffy beard. He made immediate tracks over to Charley, who gaped up at him in astonishment as he took her hand and said, "Hey, there, kid! I'm Prince MacCyber! Marry me and we'll rule the Information Superhighway happily ever after!"
"Hey! You just spun out on your highway, sup, sup!" Vinnie shouted, getting off his bike and pointing an indignant finger at the Prince. "She's my girl!"
The prince laughed arrogantly and smiled at Charley as he said, "As if he has a virtual slipper to prove it . . ."
"I've got something even better, you hominid head-case!" Vinnie snapped, and he snatched her hand out of the prince's and turned Charley to face him. He assumed his most strikingly serious pose, smiling gently.
"Call me but love, and henceforth I shall never be a rodentio . . . sup, sup."
Before Charley could say anything or make a decision, she became aware of a distant voice murmuring her name and something shaking her slightly. In confusion, she watched as everything faded out in front of her.

* * *


Throttle jerked back as Charley let out a screech as she bolted upright in her bed from where he'd been trying to awaken her.
Charley looked around, wide-eyed, her heart pounding. Gradually, she became aware of where she was and of Throttle gently patting her shoulder as he murmured soothingly to her.
She waved him away and muttered, "I'm fine, Throttle, thanks. I'll be down in a minute."
"Okay, Charley-girl," he agreed, and went back down into the garage.
After a moment, Charley climbed out of bed and got dressed. Resisting the overwhelming urge to make her bed and tidy up, she went downstairs to find the guys waiting for her.
"Good mornin', Charley-ma'am!" Modo called out, grinning from ear to ear.
"Hey, Charley! Glad you're up!" Throttle said, smiling.
"Yeah! Hey, what's for breakfast, doll?? Gotta keep your studly macho mice and one living legend fed!" Vinnie stated with an arrogant grin.
She gaped at them, and wondered why she expected to see their noses wiggling at her. Then, as she made the connection, she grinned, and wondered if it would ever happen.
She needn't have worried. Vinnie chose that moment to finish his root beer and let loose with a belch that would knock a chicken of a pole at twenty yards.
Charley started laughing, amused as she remembered her dream. The bros. were confused; normally she thought such manners were disgusting.
"Uhhh, Charley?" Throttle said.
She glanced at him and kept laughing, still remembering the "sup, sup" from her dream.
"Was it something we said?" Modo pondered aloud.
That just set her off further. Laughing harder, she made her way into the kitchen to get breakfast started.
The Biker Mice just glanced at each other, shrugged, then followed, walking with their rolling, studly gaits.
She would tell them when she finally calmed down. If she ever calmed down.

The End