Panda-mation


“PANDA PETE,” the green haired panda boy finds himself wrapped in a bear hug.

“Tracey,” he acknowledges the red head with labored breath while trying to peel her off.  His attacker releases him. Pete tries to regain his breath while noticing the other entrant, her graying partner, “Doc.”

Doc nods a salutation to Pete and greets the final occupant in the room, “Professor.”

The panda in the lab coat growls something to which Pete replies, “They’re friends. It was an accident.”

The professor turns, “My apologies. I’m a little tense working with these chemicals. I’m usually a historian. You startled me, and the current ingredient is three times the desired amount. I’ll need to add more of the other components to bring it back to equilibrium.”

Doc takes a step toward him, “Indeed. Shall I lend you a hand?”

“That would be nice. Human hands work better than these paws.” Doc joins the panda professor, and they begin to converse quietly.

Tracey nervously puts her hands behind her back. “Uhhh, Pete?” She points at his head, “Are those real?”

He wiggles his ears. “Yes.”

“May I touch them?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

She persists. “Please?”

“I’d rather not …”

“Just a little touch for scientific research reason?”

“Well …” She gives him a pleading look. “Fine.” She reaches for one. “But only for a moment.”

Her hand glides along the soft fur in the back. The pet turns to a scritch. His body relaxes. “You know, I think it might be cool to have panda ears.”

Pete’s eyes fly wide open. He whips out his Kawaii Gun and points it at her. “I can do that for you.”

It’s her turn to be surprised. She backs up to the entrance. “Wha? What are you doing?”

“I’m going to change you into a panda girl. Temporarily unless you want it permanent.”

She frantically looks around the room. “But! That will make me a mindless slave,” she protests.

Tracey dives out of the way as he fires a few shots leaving a trail of panda shaped holes in the wall. Her hand finds something metal. She quickly pulls it in front of her face.

PING! Her hands tingle as the metal vibrates from the bullet bouncing off. Ping! It ricochets off something else. Crash!

Tracey waits for the next shot, but it doesn’t come. Slowly she lowers her shield to find that she is holding an old metal tea tray that is now dented. Off to one side she notices a ding in the door knob. She follows the trajectory to the two scientists with their backs to her.

Clatter. The gun hits the floor drawing her attention back to Pete. Something doesn’t seem right. He’s not moving. The room is silent as well. Did time stop? No. The gun dropped at normal speed. She looks more closely at the panda boy. His hair has an unnatural sheen and his eyes have a glassy shine.

With the gun on the floor, she carefully stands. No one moves. She waves her hand in front of Pete’s face. He’s not blinking. She pokes him and feels it give way. She removes her finger and watches the depression partially return. It’s like … like he’s stuffed!

Then she notices his proximity to the table. “The crash! Something broke and now they are all stuffed! I have to save them!”

She steps behind Pete and the workstation to face the two scientists and what they are working on. Doc is holding a vial full of a blue liquid in a pouring position. It appears that the substance was about to go into the broken beaker. Whatever was in there changed them.

Her eyes travel to Professor Panda who seems to be writing something. The letters are a cross between cuneiform and an oriental language. A modified chopstick is in his hand, and it is in mid stroke. “I have no idea what that says. But I’ll need to figure it out if I’m going to save them.”

In her growing anxiety, she remembers the growl between the panda and the panda boy. “Of course! They have their own language.”

Her eyes dart to the fallen gun. “That would make me a panda girl. As a panda girl, I should be able to read his notes, but,” she pauses frightened, “but it will make me a slave waiting for orders.” She retrieves the weapon while arguing with herself, “Able to help, but unable to save.”

With a shaking hand she points the panda head barrel at herself. “I want to help them, but I don’t want to be helpless.” Sweating and shivering, she fights with herself.

“Well, even if we are all trapped here, someone will find us and help us.” With that her thumbs are finally able to move and pull the trigger.

Waves of pain course her body as it reforms to its new shape. She finds there are fewer than normal. As the changes finish she reaches a tentative hand to find her ears farther up. They are more sensitive and feel wonderful. I don’t have time for this.

She looks down at the paper and to her amazement the characters make sense.”Let’s see. ‘We are adding Disodium Benzonate.’ That must be what Doc is holding.”

Then a random thought enters her mind. I could have left, gotten someone else, and made them a panda girl. She slaps herself in the forehead for not having thought of that sooner. No. This is better. I’m a scientist. I can understand what I’m reading.

“Reading. Right. Let’s see what other ingredients they used and see if there is a recipe using those that makes stuffed animal people.” She takes a blank sheet of paper and the chopstick whose tip is shaped like a line. She dips it into the ink and copies them down in perfect  panda printing.

She borrows his notes and quickly skims them until she finds what she is looking for. “I see. And below it is the antidote.” She finds a new beaker and searches through the nearby cabinets looking for the components for the antidote.

“Hmmm, Chemical X. I wonder if they put some of that in the bullets for the Kawaii Gun.” She takes what she needs and follows the directions.

She pours the result on the three. Their skin begins to look less fabricated and more real. Pete’s head turns to face her. Six eyes look at her. “Ummmm, sorry?”

Doc looks confused and the two pandas reply. “Your quick thinking got us out of that, correct?”

Tracey covers her mouth and mumbles through her hands, “I’m speaking Panda?” Pete nods. “Then I have another question. Why could I do things after I shot myself?”

“Set that down,” the professor commands her.

She looks at the blue vial that she was going to hand back to them. “No.”

“Fascinating …”

Doc looks back and forth between the three with a confused look on his face. Tracey looks to Pete, “What’s going on?”

“Because you shot yourself with the gun, you became both master and servant. So, you only have to do what you want to do.”

“Completely nullifying the effect of the gun,” adds the elder panda. He picks up the writing implement and starts writing. “This opens a new line of testing.”

Pete looks to her, “I just realized I have a question of my own.”

“Oh?”

He turns to Doc. “Why?” He clears his throat and switches languages, “Why did you guys come here today?”

Doc shakes his head and heads out the door. “I need to make an English/Panda translator.”

“Ummmm, Happy Birthday?” She looks at her partner’s retreating form. “Doc, wait up!” She looks back at Pete.  “You’re going to change me back, right?” He smiles. “Right?!?”