Disclaimer- I own nothing! Zilch! Natta! Zip! Well, at least nothing that has to do with “Sonic the Hedgehog.” Snively and all other characters belong to DIC Entertainment and Archie Comics, okay? OKAY!

Well, people, here it is! The long-awaited sequel to “The Javameister”! It takes place right where “The Javameister” left off. In case you haven’t read “The Javameister”, you might want to first read it before reading this. You don’t have to, but you might just get a better understanding of this story, plus it may just add to your enjoyment. So once again, sit back and enjoy! And DON’T FORGET TO REVIEW! OR ELSE!

Snively stared into the empty cupboard in total disbelief. This was unthinkable. He could not believe that this was happening to him yet again. It was like Déjà vu all over again. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So he ended up doing both at the same time, a combination of laughing and bawling.

Snively fell to his knees. “Why?” he cried. “Oh, why do the gods mock me so? I have repented from my coffeeholic ways… I have learned, all too well, about the evils of caffeine… so why must the past return to haunt me?! Can’t a man start over? Do I have to keep on paying?!” He thrust his tiny fists into the air. “Old Man Fate!” he screamed towards the heavens. “Why have you forsaken me?!”

Just than Robotnik entered the kitchen. “Snively, where is that list of all the Hedgehog’s damage that I specifically requested of you to type up for me?”

“For the love of Mobius, sir!” Snively cried. “Is that all you can THINK OF?! I’m currently experiencing a mid-life crisis, and you’re bothering me about stupid, meaningless reports? WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, UNCLE?!”

Robotnik was unmoved by his nephew’s outburst. “Let me guess, Snively- you ran out of tea.” He smirked. “Well, when you get over your little nervous break-down, nephew, I except that list to be completed and handed in to me.” He than left the room, just barely missing a plate that was hurled at his fat head.

Snively tore around the kitchen, furiously emptying drawers and cupboards, flinging their contents all over the floor and walls. He swore and cursed at the top of his lungs all the while, in his fit of hysteria. Pretty soon, the kitchen was a mess. There were broken dishes, smashed glass, and food splattered all over the place. But this was the last thing on the little man’s mind at the moment. He didn’t even care what Robotnik would think when he saw the mess. All Snively knew was that he needed some tea and he needed it now! Having wrapped up his little temper tantrum, he raced out of the room and fled from the base, out into the city of Robotropolis. “I’ll find some tea if it’s the last thing I ever do,” he screamed, “or damnit, my name isn’t Snively Kintobor!”

Snively raced down the streets on his quest for tea, ever determined to get what he wanted. “Curse that insufferable author for putting me through this hell yet again!” he yelled. He stopped and shook a fist in the air. “Mark my words, Shychick! I’ll have my revenge in the end!”

Suddenly a great booming Voice appeared from out of nowhere, causing the little man to nearly jump out of his skin in fright. “OH, YOU THINK SO, DO YOU? WELL, THIS FIC ISN’T OVER YET, MY FRIEND! WE SHALL SEE WHO HAS THE LAST LAUGH BY THE END! FOR I AM THE ALMIGHTY AUTHOR! NEVER FORGET THAT I ALONE CONTROL YOUR FATE! MMUHAHAHAHA!!” The mysterious voice vanished.

Just than, Snively spotted a couple of little girl kittens in their playhouse, having what appeared to be a tea party. Snively grinned. “Yes! Jackpot!!” He raced up to the playhouse and, without even knocking, burst through the door like a psychopath, scaring the hell of the kids. “Hello there, kiddies,” he said with a crazy grin on his face and an even crazier look in his eyes. “I must say, this is quite a homey little place you’ve got here. Oh, having a little tea party, are we? My, my, how cute… not to mention convenient! Say, I have a neat idea, children! How’s about letting Uncle Snively join you for a cup or two?” Without waiting for a response, he sang out, “DON’T MIND IF I DOOOO!!” He snatched up all their tea cups and poured the contents into his mouth. Suddenly, he spat the liquid out in disgust. “Hey! This isn’t tea!” he cried. “What on Mobius is this crap?”

“It’s Kool-Aid!” one of the kids said, shaking with fear.

“WHAT?! KOOL-AID?! BUT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SERVE TEA! THIS A TEA PARY, AFTER ALL, NOT A BLASTED KOOL-AID PARTY!!” Snively shouted, turning the little table over in his anger, causing the tea things to go flying every which way.

“But, mister, we’re not allowed to drink real tea,” the kid said, whimpering. “Our mommy said so.”

“Oh, your mommy “said so”, did she?” Snively cooed. “WELL, I, FOR ONE, DON’T GIVE A BLOODY HOOT IN HELL WHAT YOUR MOMMY SAYS, TWIRP!” He sighed and shook his head. “My dear child, did you honestly believe, for even a second, that you and your sister could actually fool me into thinking that this was tea when it was really, in fact, Kool-Aid? Do you take me for an idiot?” The kids were too nervous too answer. “WELL? DO YOU?” he screamed. He chuckled. “I am not as gullible as you think, foolish children. For I am SNIVELY THE GREAT!!” he announced, striking a dramatic pose.

The braver (or stupider) little girl smirked. “Hey, mister, say it, don’t spray it,” she said.

Big mistake!

A few seconds later, all three of them stood outside of the now-former playhouse… which had been blasted to smithereens by Snively’s laser pistol. The girls were bawling their heads off. “WHAAAA!! You big meanie! We’re going to tell our mommy on you!” they screamed, running away.

Snively just laughed. “Ah, well, that was all very amusing,” he said. “But I still don’t have any tea!” He narrowed his eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to keep searching this city until I do then.” He took off running again. But unfortunately, he didn’t watch where he was going, and the next thing he knew- BAM! He ran smack into a lamp post.

Snively rubbed his sore head. “This just isn’t my day,” he groaned. “Blast that infernal author! This is all her fault!”

WHAM! A huge anvil suddenly fell from the sky- courtesy of the author, of course. “WATCH YOUR TOUNGE, FOOL!” the mysterious Voice boomed. “OR ELSE I WILL MAKE YOU ENDURE MORE HULMILLIATION AND SUFFERING THAN YOU EVER DREAMED OF… WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT! ALWAYS REMEMBER: IN THE WORLD OF MY FANFICS, I CONTROL YOUR FATE! NOT DIC ENTERTAINMENT, NOT ARCHIE COMICS, ME! HAHAHAH!!” The Voice faded out, laughing fiendishly.

Snively crawled out from under the anvil, while little cartoonish birdies flew around his head, tweeting. He shook them away and massaged the huge lump on his head. “I hate my life.”

Just than, a tiny green spaceman wearing a big green space helmet with two antennas sticking out of it suddenly appeared out of thin air in front of Snively.

Snively stared at the little spaceman. “Oh, Great Gizoo,” he said, “what should I do?”

“First of all, you’ve got to get your act together, dum-dum,” the Great Gizoo said in that snotty British accent of his (which is kinda similar to Snively’s, just without the nasal pitch to it). “Show some dignity, man! Running around making an utter ass of yourself and frightening innocent little children is no way to behave. You’ll get what you’re looking for all in good time. The key is having patience, you know! After all, Robotropolis wasn’t built in a day… hmm, neither was Bedrock, for that matter…”

Snively’s eyes lit up. “You’re right, Great Gizoo! It’s all so clear to me now! I know now what I must do in order to achieve my goal… I’ve got to throw away what’s left of my dignity and keep on making a jolly old ass of myself!”

The Great Gizoo just sighed. “You’re an even bigger dum-dum than the big fat guy.”

“You mean Robotnik?”

“No, you dum-dum, I was referring to that Flintstone fellow!” the Great Gizoo snapped. He sighed wearily. “Sometimes I wonder why I was ever sent from my home planet to put up with such dum-dums.” The Great Gizoo than vanished back into thin air with that little plink! sound effect.

Snively strolled down the street, making up a song about himself and singing it to the tune of “The Flintstones.”

“Snively,” he sang, “Snively the Great! He’s the greatest guy in history!” A bee came buzzing around his head, but he barely noticed it because he was too immersed in singing about himself. “From the planet, Mobius,” he continued to sing, “he’s about to get stung by a bee… AHHH!”

The bee stung Snively on his long nose and flew away. “OUCH!” he cried. “Oh, how I despise that wretched author! She’ll pay for this!”

CRASH! Another anvil landed on top of his head. The Voice cackled madly. “I WARNED YOU, SNIVELY KINTOBOR! BESIDES, IT SERVES YOU RIGHT FOR MAKING A MOCKERY OUT OF “THE FLINTSTONES”! DON’T THE WORDS ‘COPYRIGHT’ AND ‘PLADGERISM’ MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU, FOOL?”

“Oh, really now, that’s not fair!” Snively cried. “I’m not the one writing this thing! You’re the one who keeps putting “Flinstones”-related stuff in here! And if I’m not mistaken, you also forgot to mention the fact that you don’t own the rights to “The Flintstones”, now didn’t you? Don’t blame me if Joe and Hanna Barbera ends up suing you… if they’re still even alive, that is.”

“UH, ER,” stumbled the author at a loss for words, knowing full well that Snively was right. “ER, WELL, I- GRRRR!! DON’T MAKE ME DROP ANOTHER ANVIL ON YOU!”

“Oh, no, please!” Snively cried, cowering down on the ground. “Not that! Anything but that! Forget I said anything! It’s your fanfic; I have no right to interfere! You control my fate, oh almighty, oh powerful author, Shychick!”

“DAMN RIGHT!” the Voice said before vanishing once again.

Suddenly, Snively got a giant brainwave, possibly a result from that last anvil falling on his head. “Wait a minute! That’s it!” he cried. “I know the perfect way to get my hands on all the tea I want! I’ll simply order a Tea Tax for the city of Robotropolis! All the citizens will be forced to pay tea as taxes! They will surrender all their tea unto me! And anyone who dare refuses to pay their taxes will be roboticized!” He broke out into maniacal laughter. “Haha! It’s brilliant! I’m too fiendishly clever for my own good!”

Snively stood atop the balcony, back at the base, addressing the citizens of Robotropolis below. “Attention, citizens of Robotropolis!” he announced, holding a megaphone up to his lips. “There has been made a slight change of things around here! I have just ordered a new “Tea Tax” to be issued out amongst the city! Effective immediately, all citizens will be forced to surrender all their tea unto me! And furthermore, anybody who refuses to pay the new tax or anybody who cannot pay will suffer the consequences!” He smiled wickedly. “That is all. Carry on with your business, people.”

There came shocked gasps and murmurs from the crowd below. Robotnik’s nephew couldn’t have been serious!

“And as for those of you who think that this is a joke, let me assure you that IT’S NOT, BY ANY MEANS!” Snively turned back to announce. He smirked. “Oh, and if you still find my words to be unconvincing, than perhaps a personal visit to your places of abode accompanied by a team of SWATbots will convince you! Good day, citizens!”

Meanwhile, Uncle Chuck was witnessing all this on his surveillance monitors. “That crazy little bugger! I’d better inform Sonic and the others about this…” he said, as he started to write a letter.

Before long, in Knothole Village, Sonic and the other Freedom Fighters had just received Uncle Chuck’s letter, explaining all about Snively’s Tea Tax.

“Oh, man, ‘ol Needlenose can’t be serious!” Sonic cried. “This has got to be the craziest stunt that little runt’s ever tried to pull off!”

“Ah wonda if Robotnik knows about this, Sugah-Hog,” Bunnie was saying.

Sonic laughed. “I doubt Robuttnik’s the one behind this, Bunnie! Only that Snidely would dream up something so totally bogus!”

Antoine stamped his foot in outrage. “Zeese eese outrageese!” he snapped. “Who eez that Snip-ley tink he ees being? Zeese esse zee begeest tax hike een zee heestory of tax hikes!”

Sonic just shrugged. “Well, I don’t know about that, Ant, but it sure is the most weirdest tax hike in history!”

Sally laughed. “It’s just like Snively to try to run Robotropolis behind his uncle’s back!”

“Yeah, you can say that again, Aunt Sally,” Tails chuckled.

“SURRENDER ALL YOUR TEA, BY ORDER OF SNIVELY THE GREAT,” a SWATbot’s voice droned as it approached a house, accompanied by two other ‘bots, as well as Snively.

“But we don’t have any tea in the house right now!” the poor mother dog cried, as her two younger sons stood cowering behind her apron. “Please, have mercy, I beg you! Think of my children!”

“Bah! Mercy is for the weak, widow!” Snively sneered. He turned to the trio of SWATbots, who were awaiting his orders. “Search the premises!” he commanded them. “They must have some tea hidden around here somewhere!”

“COMPLIENCE,” the SWATbots replied. The mother dog and her sons watched in horror as their house was completely ransacked.

“SIR, WE HAVE SEARCHED THE PREMISES, BUT HAVE FOUND NOTHING,” the ‘bots reported.

Snively growled. “Very well than, madam,” he said to the widow, “you know the penalty for this. I now have no choice but to roboticize you and your children. Take them away!” he ordered the SWATbots.

“No!” screamed the widow as she and her children were handcuffed and led away. “Please, don’t roboticize my babies! Take me, but please spare my little ones!”

“Silence, woman!” Snively snapped. “Perhaps if you had thought to stock up on tea beforehand, you and your children would be spared.” He smirked.

Just than, the Great Gizoo appeared. “You know, Snively, you’re being a bit of a hypocrite right now,” he said.

“Oh, be quiet!” Snively snapped, hating to admit that he was right. “Now be gone! Can’t you see I’m busy taxing these poor suckers?” The Great Gizoo just sighed and vanished.

It was the same routine among all the other houses. If the citizens wouldn’t hand over their tea immediately, than their houses would be searched, and if there was no tea to be found, than the entire household be placed under arrest. Needless to say, Snively was not very reasonable about this!

“All in all, a good day’s taxing,” Snively grinned, as he leaned back comfortably in his chair at the surveillance monitors, back at the base. There was a mountain of tea standing beside him.

Just than, Robotnik burst into the control room. “SNIVELY!!” he roared.

The little lackey gave a squeak of surprise and cringed. “Y-y-yes, sir?” he asked nervously.

The fat tyrant glared at his nephew. “Why was I not informed of this, Snively?” he growled.

Snively gulped. “Of- of what, sir?” His knees were knocking like mad.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about, you little con artist!” Robotnik yelled. “This whole “Tea Tax” ordeal! Who do you think you are, making changes about the city behind my back? Where do you get the gull, Snively?!”

“Um, w-well, sir,” Snively stuttered, trying to think of a good excuse and fast, “I was going to tell you, sir… b-but I just wanted to surprise you!” He tried out his most winning smile. “You see, sir, I thought that if-”

“You don’t think!” Robotnik snapped, grabbing his nephew by the neck. “You just carry out my orders! Only I do the thinking around here! Is that clear, lackey?” His grip around Snively’s throat tightened.

“C-crystal, sir,” Snively managed to gasp out, turning a little blue.

“Good,” Robotnik dropped him roughly to the hard ground. “Now call this whole ridiculous thing off and dispose of all that tea immediately.”

Snively moaned in defeat. Success had finally been his! He couldn’t bear to lose all his precious tea now- not after all that he’d been through! “Oh, Great Gizoo!” he cried out, “where are you?”

The little green spaceman appeared, but only Snively could see him. “Oh, so now you want my help, dum-dum,” he smirked. “I trust you’ve come to your senses then?”

“Please, Great Gizoo,” Snively begged, “I can’t afford to give up all my beloved tea that I worked so hard to earn! Tell me, what should I do?”

“Why, the only logical thing you can do of course, dum-dum,” the Great Gizoo replied. “RUN FOR IT, MAN! RUN! SAVE THE BOOTY!”

Snively grabbed as many packages of tea as he could load into his small arms. “I REGRET NOTHING!!” he screamed, as he crashed right through the walls with his beloved beverage, the Great Gizoo following right behind him.

Suddenly, the Great Gizoo snapped his fingers and they were both transported back in time to the Stone Age… the modern Stone Age, that is. Snively glanced up at a large stone sign that said “Welcome to Bedrock.” He had no idea where and what this strange place was, but he didn’t care! He was just happy to have saved his precious tea. “I’m free!” he cried happily, glancing around at his new surroundings. “Free of Mobius! Free of the Big Round Guy! Free of the Hedgehog and those other Freedom Fighters!” He leaped into the air and happily clicked his feet together. “Yabba-dabba-do!” he cried out.

But alas, bliss was not to be had easily for poor Snively. Because all of a sudden, for no reason, and just for laughs, Barney Rubble came running up and snatched all of Snively’s tea out of his hands. “Gee, thanks for the free tea, Cue Ball! I was getting bored of always swiping Fred’s Pebbles, so this is a nice change of pace! Eh-hee-hee-hee-hee!” he said, laughing his trademark laugh before dashing off.

“BARNEY! MY TEA!” Snively hollered in outrage, as he took off running after the caveman.

The Great Gizoo just watched as Snively chased Barney all throughout the streets of Bedrock. “Hmph,” he sniffed, folding his arms, as that music they always have right at the end of any “Flintstones” episode played. “Dum-dum.”

The End

Oookayy, now you’re probably all thinking “what the hell was Shychick on when she wrote that?“ Well, that’s what you get from me when you combine MAJOR hyperness, “Sonic the Hedgehog”, and “The Flintstones”! Heh, heh…

Thank you, ladies and gentleman, you’ve been a wonderful audience! I’ll be here all next week! Be sure to tip your waitress! In other words… REVIEW!