"Has anybody seen Speed?" Pops wondered as he paced nervously around the hotel room. "The race starts in one hour. Doesn't he know that?!"
"He's only taking a shower, Pops. Try to relax," said Trixie, while admiring her reflection in her compact mirror.
The Racer family had arrived in Rome, Italy for the biggest race of the year. The group had arrived a day ago, and they were already regretting the fact that they brought Spritle and ChimChim along on the trip.
"ChimChim! Come back here! Gimme back my cookies!" Spirtle's voice called out from another room. The monkey rushed out, clutching a torn-open cookie box. Spirtle was chasing him. Pretty soon the boy and the monkey were wrestling on the floor, each trying to gobble more cookies than the other. Chocolate cookie chunks flew everywhere.
Everyone stared at them in frustration.
"Spritle! Will you and that monkey kindly KEEP IT DOWN, so I can do my worrying in PEACE?!" shouted Pops, snarling down at the two little troublemakers.
"But Pops!" whined Spritle. "ChimChim is eating all my cookies!"
"Here, give that to me," Mrs. Racer spoke, reaching for the cookies. "Spritle, why don't you and ChimChim go to the window and take a look at the Coliseum."
"Or maybe some spaghetti," chuckled Sparky, who was resting on the couch, studying a manual.
Pops walked over to bathroom and watched the steam seeping out from under the locked door. "Speed, aren't you through yet? Nobody takes that long in the shower!" He banged on the door.
"Take it easy, Pops," Speed called over the running water.
"Speed, if that race begins without you…"
"There's plenty of time," Speed's voice replied. "Why are you so worried?"
Spritle walked up behind Pops, cautiously yanking on his father's wide, red shirt. "Speaking of the race…"
"NO!" Pops answered. "You are NOT going to that race, young man!"
Spritle folded his little arms in a pout. "Aw, Gee."
"And another thing!" Pops continued. "Don't you DARE try to stowaway in any trunks!"
"Why are you looking at us?" asked Spritle, innocently. He put a protective arm around ChimChim, and the monkey did the same.
Trixie giggled and looked at Pops. "I think you should have taken my advice and got a babysitter for those two."
"Hey! ChimChim and me aren't babies!" the kid shouted at her.
Then Speed came out of the bathroom, dark hair wet and a towel draped around his shoulders. "What did I miss?"
"It's about time!" Pops stated. "Let's get down to the track."
Meanwhile, at the racing track, many of the racers had already arrived, and were making last minute adjustments to their cars. But there was a certain group of five or six men that were very different from the rest. These guys were bunched together separate from the others. They were all dressed in ancient Roman tunics and sandals.
"Hey boss, when do we get the secrets of the Moch5?"
The master of the gang looked out at the track, narrowing his eyes. "When I see that the car is here… I'll tell you what to do from there."
Soon the famous Moch5 arrived at the track, and while Speed was polishing the white paint, he found himself being approached by a strange man wearing a tunic.
While this particular member was busy distracting Speed with small talk, two other tunic-wearers sneaked up behind the racer to get a quick look at the fantastic car. Little did they know there were two unsuspecting little stowaways hiding in the trunk.
"Let's see if the coast is clear, ChimChim," Spritle whispered from inside the dark trunk. The monkey chattered softly in reply. Then Spritle slowly started to open the trunk, but found himself nose to nose with a scary stranger. The stranger looked shocked for a moment, but then growled in their faces.
"Yikes!" Spritle gasped and tried to reclose the trunk. But he wasn't fast enough and the man grabbed him and ChimChim.
"Speed! Speeeed!" yelled Spritle as he and ChimChim were roughly yanked out of the trunk.
Speed whirled around. "Spritle, what are you - Hey! Put them down!"
But the man just snarled and fled, carrying a thrashing Spritle and ChimChim under his arms.
"You let my brother go!" shouted Speed, angrily. He started running, but was tripped to the ground by the guy whom he had been chatting with. Furious, Speed jumped back up to fight. But the ancient-styled guy had vanished. And so was the one who had kidnapped Spritle and ChimChim.
Next thing he knew, Spritle was gagged and riding through the city in a strange car. The gang members had throw ChimChim out of the car before they started driving, because of how much the monkey was scratching, biting, and clawing at them.
But Spritle was taken away to the gang's hideout.
"Let me go!" the boy exclaimed. "My big brother is going to get you!"
The strange men glared at Spritle, then grabbed him roughly. "Listen little boy… you'd better tell us everything you know about the ol' Moch5."
Spritle scoffed. "I won't tell! I'd never tell you anything about that car!"
The main bad guy raised an eyebrow. "Well, if we can't persuade you… then perhaps our mascots can…"
"Huh?" Spritle was puzzled. "What mascots?"
The boss snapped his fingers. At that signal, a guy reached into a smaller room and brought out two brown goats.
Baaa! Baaa! The goats bleated.
The boss looked at them and then grinned deviously at the boy.
Spritle couldn't believe his eyes. "Those are goats! How are they going to make me talk?"
"You'll see, kid." Then the man threw Spritle to the floor and ripped off his shoes and socks.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
The boss didn't reply. He grabbed the boy's small, bare feet and put them into a pair of wooden stocks. Then he locked up the stocks and put the key in his pocket.
Spritle wiggled and squirmed, trying to pull his feet out of the stocks. But he couldn't do it. Panic seized him when he realized how vulnerable he now was. "Wh-What are going to with my feet?"
All the men had evil grins on their creepy faces. Then the boss picked up a bucket of something and showed it to Spritle. "Do you know what this is?"
The boy shook his head.
"It's a salt solution," the man replied, as he poured the mixture onto Spritle's bare feet.
"I don't understand!" the kid cried. "What are you going to do?"
The man laughed wickedly and dragged over the goats. Within an instant, both of the goats took notice of Spritle's salt-drenched feet. Then they lowered their heads and began licking the soles of his feet.
"AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEY THAT TICKLES! MAKE THEM STOHOHOHOHOHOP!" Spritle shrieked with laughter.
All the men in the room found this terribly amusing. "Poor little boy… he's probably the first child to ever experience this ancient Roman torture! The torture of the goat's tongue!"
Spritle had extremely ticklish feet. He writhed around on the floor, trying desperately to pull them out of the stocks. But it was no use…His poor little soles were at the mercy of the hungry goats. Their torturous tongues were moving up and down…dragging over every inch of the pale, supple, young flesh.
"PLEEEEHEHEHEHEASE! NOOOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHORE! IT TICKLES MY FEEHEHEHEHHEHEHEET!"
"Tell us how to build a Moch5!"
"I DOHOHOHOHOHON'T KNOOOHOHOHOHOHOW! PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEASE LET ME GOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"
"Aww, but we can't let you go yet! The goats are still hungry." So with that, the boss sat back and watched as the goats licked and slurped more and more of the salty solution off the kid's heels, arches, and balls of his feet. Then they started licking between his toes.
Spritle was screaming with laughter. "EEEEEHHHEHEEHHEHEHEHE! NOT MY TOHOHOHOHOHOES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'LL BE A GOOD BOY! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEEASE HELP MEEEEE!"
"Not until you tell us how we can build a car like the Moch5!" barked the boss. Then he noticed that the salt solution was almost all gone from the boy's feet. So he grabbed the bucket and poured some more of the oozy contents over the boy's helpless feet.
Then the process started all over again. The pair of goats licked his freshly salted soles non-stop.
Spritle wailed in ticklish agony, tears and sweat streaming down his beet red face. "AAAAAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"
The goats' tongues started at his heels and went all the way up to his toes, lapping them mercilessly. The tickle torture was so intense that Spirtle felt like he was going to pee in his pants. His shrill laughter was even starting to disturb some of the men, causing them to cover their eyes and ears.
"Are you ready to tell us now, kid?" shouted the boss.
"I DOHOHOHOHON'T KNOHOHOHOHOHOHOW ANYTHIHIHIHIHING! PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! I'M JUST A KIHIHIHIHIHID! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAN'T BREATHE! OHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! I'M SO TICKLISH!"
Just when the poor little boy thought he would pass out from laughter, there was a loud BANG at the door. The men all looked up in surprise as Speed Racer kicked the door open and rushed into the room. There was a big battle, but Speed's gang managed to knock out all of the tunic-wearing kidnappers.
ChimChim pulled the goats away from Spritle's stocked feet.
"S-Speed! Y-You f-found me!" Spritle cried, so very happy to see his big brother.
"Spritle, are you alright?" Speed broke the lock on the stocks and got the boy out.
"I will be…once I get my hands on those mean fiends!" With that, Spirtle attacked and punched one of the bad guys, who had recently been knocked unconscious by Speed.
"Now, just settle down, you!" growled Pops, as he grabbed his youngest son. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't been hiding in that trunk in the first place!"
"I know, Pops," Spritle looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry."
"Come on, everyone. We might still have time to get to the race!" said Sparky, cheerily.
"First let's get these goons to jail!" said Pops, looking around at all the bad guys laying on the floor.
Soon the family was on their way to the biggest race of the year. They all hoped that Spritle had finally learned his lesson about stowing away in trunks.
The End
"He's only taking a shower, Pops. Try to relax," said Trixie, while admiring her reflection in her compact mirror.
The Racer family had arrived in Rome, Italy for the biggest race of the year. The group had arrived a day ago, and they were already regretting the fact that they brought Spritle and ChimChim along on the trip.
"ChimChim! Come back here! Gimme back my cookies!" Spirtle's voice called out from another room. The monkey rushed out, clutching a torn-open cookie box. Spirtle was chasing him. Pretty soon the boy and the monkey were wrestling on the floor, each trying to gobble more cookies than the other. Chocolate cookie chunks flew everywhere.
Everyone stared at them in frustration.
"Spritle! Will you and that monkey kindly KEEP IT DOWN, so I can do my worrying in PEACE?!" shouted Pops, snarling down at the two little troublemakers.
"But Pops!" whined Spritle. "ChimChim is eating all my cookies!"
"Here, give that to me," Mrs. Racer spoke, reaching for the cookies. "Spritle, why don't you and ChimChim go to the window and take a look at the Coliseum."
"Or maybe some spaghetti," chuckled Sparky, who was resting on the couch, studying a manual.
Pops walked over to bathroom and watched the steam seeping out from under the locked door. "Speed, aren't you through yet? Nobody takes that long in the shower!" He banged on the door.
"Take it easy, Pops," Speed called over the running water.
"Speed, if that race begins without you…"
"There's plenty of time," Speed's voice replied. "Why are you so worried?"
Spritle walked up behind Pops, cautiously yanking on his father's wide, red shirt. "Speaking of the race…"
"NO!" Pops answered. "You are NOT going to that race, young man!"
Spritle folded his little arms in a pout. "Aw, Gee."
"And another thing!" Pops continued. "Don't you DARE try to stowaway in any trunks!"
"Why are you looking at us?" asked Spritle, innocently. He put a protective arm around ChimChim, and the monkey did the same.
Trixie giggled and looked at Pops. "I think you should have taken my advice and got a babysitter for those two."
"Hey! ChimChim and me aren't babies!" the kid shouted at her.
Then Speed came out of the bathroom, dark hair wet and a towel draped around his shoulders. "What did I miss?"
"It's about time!" Pops stated. "Let's get down to the track."
Meanwhile, at the racing track, many of the racers had already arrived, and were making last minute adjustments to their cars. But there was a certain group of five or six men that were very different from the rest. These guys were bunched together separate from the others. They were all dressed in ancient Roman tunics and sandals.
"Hey boss, when do we get the secrets of the Moch5?"
The master of the gang looked out at the track, narrowing his eyes. "When I see that the car is here… I'll tell you what to do from there."
Soon the famous Moch5 arrived at the track, and while Speed was polishing the white paint, he found himself being approached by a strange man wearing a tunic.
While this particular member was busy distracting Speed with small talk, two other tunic-wearers sneaked up behind the racer to get a quick look at the fantastic car. Little did they know there were two unsuspecting little stowaways hiding in the trunk.
"Let's see if the coast is clear, ChimChim," Spritle whispered from inside the dark trunk. The monkey chattered softly in reply. Then Spritle slowly started to open the trunk, but found himself nose to nose with a scary stranger. The stranger looked shocked for a moment, but then growled in their faces.
"Yikes!" Spritle gasped and tried to reclose the trunk. But he wasn't fast enough and the man grabbed him and ChimChim.
"Speed! Speeeed!" yelled Spritle as he and ChimChim were roughly yanked out of the trunk.
Speed whirled around. "Spritle, what are you - Hey! Put them down!"
But the man just snarled and fled, carrying a thrashing Spritle and ChimChim under his arms.
"You let my brother go!" shouted Speed, angrily. He started running, but was tripped to the ground by the guy whom he had been chatting with. Furious, Speed jumped back up to fight. But the ancient-styled guy had vanished. And so was the one who had kidnapped Spritle and ChimChim.
Next thing he knew, Spritle was gagged and riding through the city in a strange car. The gang members had throw ChimChim out of the car before they started driving, because of how much the monkey was scratching, biting, and clawing at them.
But Spritle was taken away to the gang's hideout.
"Let me go!" the boy exclaimed. "My big brother is going to get you!"
The strange men glared at Spritle, then grabbed him roughly. "Listen little boy… you'd better tell us everything you know about the ol' Moch5."
Spritle scoffed. "I won't tell! I'd never tell you anything about that car!"
The main bad guy raised an eyebrow. "Well, if we can't persuade you… then perhaps our mascots can…"
"Huh?" Spritle was puzzled. "What mascots?"
The boss snapped his fingers. At that signal, a guy reached into a smaller room and brought out two brown goats.
Baaa! Baaa! The goats bleated.
The boss looked at them and then grinned deviously at the boy.
Spritle couldn't believe his eyes. "Those are goats! How are they going to make me talk?"
"You'll see, kid." Then the man threw Spritle to the floor and ripped off his shoes and socks.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
The boss didn't reply. He grabbed the boy's small, bare feet and put them into a pair of wooden stocks. Then he locked up the stocks and put the key in his pocket.
Spritle wiggled and squirmed, trying to pull his feet out of the stocks. But he couldn't do it. Panic seized him when he realized how vulnerable he now was. "Wh-What are going to with my feet?"
All the men had evil grins on their creepy faces. Then the boss picked up a bucket of something and showed it to Spritle. "Do you know what this is?"
The boy shook his head.
"It's a salt solution," the man replied, as he poured the mixture onto Spritle's bare feet.
"I don't understand!" the kid cried. "What are you going to do?"
The man laughed wickedly and dragged over the goats. Within an instant, both of the goats took notice of Spritle's salt-drenched feet. Then they lowered their heads and began licking the soles of his feet.
"AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEY THAT TICKLES! MAKE THEM STOHOHOHOHOHOP!" Spritle shrieked with laughter.
All the men in the room found this terribly amusing. "Poor little boy… he's probably the first child to ever experience this ancient Roman torture! The torture of the goat's tongue!"
Spritle had extremely ticklish feet. He writhed around on the floor, trying desperately to pull them out of the stocks. But it was no use…His poor little soles were at the mercy of the hungry goats. Their torturous tongues were moving up and down…dragging over every inch of the pale, supple, young flesh.
"PLEEEEHEHEHEHEASE! NOOOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHORE! IT TICKLES MY FEEHEHEHEHHEHEHEET!"
"Tell us how to build a Moch5!"
"I DOHOHOHOHOHON'T KNOOOHOHOHOHOHOW! PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEASE LET ME GOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"
"Aww, but we can't let you go yet! The goats are still hungry." So with that, the boss sat back and watched as the goats licked and slurped more and more of the salty solution off the kid's heels, arches, and balls of his feet. Then they started licking between his toes.
Spritle was screaming with laughter. "EEEEEHHHEHEEHHEHEHEHE! NOT MY TOHOHOHOHOHOES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'LL BE A GOOD BOY! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! PLEEEEASE HELP MEEEEE!"
"Not until you tell us how we can build a car like the Moch5!" barked the boss. Then he noticed that the salt solution was almost all gone from the boy's feet. So he grabbed the bucket and poured some more of the oozy contents over the boy's helpless feet.
Then the process started all over again. The pair of goats licked his freshly salted soles non-stop.
Spritle wailed in ticklish agony, tears and sweat streaming down his beet red face. "AAAAAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"
The goats' tongues started at his heels and went all the way up to his toes, lapping them mercilessly. The tickle torture was so intense that Spirtle felt like he was going to pee in his pants. His shrill laughter was even starting to disturb some of the men, causing them to cover their eyes and ears.
"Are you ready to tell us now, kid?" shouted the boss.
"I DOHOHOHOHON'T KNOHOHOHOHOHOHOW ANYTHIHIHIHIHING! PLEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! I'M JUST A KIHIHIHIHIHID! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAN'T BREATHE! OHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! I'M SO TICKLISH!"
Just when the poor little boy thought he would pass out from laughter, there was a loud BANG at the door. The men all looked up in surprise as Speed Racer kicked the door open and rushed into the room. There was a big battle, but Speed's gang managed to knock out all of the tunic-wearing kidnappers.
ChimChim pulled the goats away from Spritle's stocked feet.
"S-Speed! Y-You f-found me!" Spritle cried, so very happy to see his big brother.
"Spritle, are you alright?" Speed broke the lock on the stocks and got the boy out.
"I will be…once I get my hands on those mean fiends!" With that, Spirtle attacked and punched one of the bad guys, who had recently been knocked unconscious by Speed.
"Now, just settle down, you!" growled Pops, as he grabbed his youngest son. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't been hiding in that trunk in the first place!"
"I know, Pops," Spritle looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry."
"Come on, everyone. We might still have time to get to the race!" said Sparky, cheerily.
"First let's get these goons to jail!" said Pops, looking around at all the bad guys laying on the floor.
Soon the family was on their way to the biggest race of the year. They all hoped that Spritle had finally learned his lesson about stowing away in trunks.
The End
