Disclaimer- I don’t own any of the characters, which really sucks beyond all reason. DIC Entertainment and Archie Comics do, okay?

Today was not going to be a good day for Snively Kintobor.

No, not a very good day at all.

For, today was no ordinary day. It was that cursed day of the year- literally, I might add- which brought forth an abundance of misfortune and disaster down upon the heads of every unsuspecting soul of Mobius. A day of utter wreakening. The most unluckiest day of the entire year.

Today was Friday the Thirteenth.

For, you see, Snively was an extremely superstitious fellow. He always dreaded the arrival of this dreadful day, even all year round. He would count down the remaining days until Friday the Thirteenth and mark them down on his calendar just to prepare himself, as he fearfully awaited the inevitable. Why was Snively so afraid of Friday the Thirteenth, you ask? Well, he had every reason to be as superstitious as he is! You see, Friday the Thirteenth is not an unlucky day for everybody. There are those who have the good fortune of experiencing not a single mishap throughout the entire day, believe it or not. To these people, Friday the Thirteenth is just like any other ordinary day. These people are simply what you would call Naturally Lucky. HOWEVER… there are also those poor individuals who the Spirits and Fate have chosen right from birth as their yearly victims. On this day, everything and anything that could ever possibly go wrong does go wrong. This number of individuals are what you would call Naturally Unlucky. And Snively just so happened to be included in that number. Not even all of the good luck charms, chants, and rituals in the world could spare him. Hiding for twenty-four hours straight was futile too. There was simply nothing he could do about it.

Just than, Commander Packbell came into Snively’s bedroom, without even knocking. “Needlenose, I suggest you get your skinny rear end down to the Control Room on the double. You’re late. Dr. Robotnik’s not too pleased with your lack of punctuality this morning.” He couldn’t help but grinning as he said this. There was nothing that delighted the android more than witnessing Snively getting into trouble with Robotnik, much to Snively’s annoyance and frustration.

Groaning, Snively sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He reached over and grabbed his alarm clock. “ARRGGHHH!! It’s past seven! I can’t believe how late I slept in! Oh, the Big Round Guy is going to have my head on a silver platter for this!”

Packbell grinned. “I know,” he said with a sinister chuckle. “And don’t forget what today is, Snively- it’s Friday the Thirteenth!” Packbell knew all about Snively’s fearful obsession over Friday the Thirteenth. It greatly amused him. And of course he never missed an opportunity to harass him about it every year.

Snively glanced over at the marked spot on his calendar and gasped. “ARRRRGGGHHH!! IT IS! I forgot all about it! No wonder my alarm clock didn’t ring this morning! I distinctly recall setting it last night! Now I’m late for work and old Lord of Lard is going to kill me, and who knows what else will happen to me throughout the rest of the day! The gods, the stars, and even Fate itself are all against me, I tell you! I was doomed right from birth, Packbell! I have been cursed with a Naturally Unlucky streak for life!” He shook his head and sighed. “It never ceases to amaze me that I am still even alive, to this very day.”

“Oh, quit with the dramatics already, Needlenose!” Packbell said, rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe you actually believe in that absurdity! It’s all a load of bunk, you know that? Only complete ignoramuses and fools believe in that superstitious mumbo-jumbo!”

Snively gasped and jammed a hand over the android’s mouth. “Packbell, bite your tongue! Don’t you know it’s terrible bad luck to mock superstition?!” he cried. “Are you trying to kill me?” He shuddered and glanced around uneasily at the Heavens, as if the Gods of Superstition above were watching and listening.

Packbell burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah? Than explain the reason for my perfect condition, Needlenose! How come I’ve never experienced a lick of bad luck or misfortune since the day I was created? Just how do you justify that, genius?”

“Because, oh narrow-minded one, you’re nothing but a mere machine!” Snively snapped. “Being “invented” under the right sign has nothing to do with it!”

Packbell glared at his little ‘cousin’. He hated being referred to as a common machine. “I may not be of flesh and blood, human, but it’s still not wise to sell me and my capabilities short!” So saying, the android used his strong robotic fist to smash Snively’s mirror, sending little glass chunks flying every which way.

Snively screamed in horror. “NO!! Now you’ve done it, you fool!” he cried, eyes nearly bulging out of his head, veins popping out. “Everyone knows it’s seven years worth of bad luck if you break a mirror!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

“Whoops! Sorry about that Sniv’!” Packbell cackled. “Guess I don’t know my own strength!” As he turned to leave, he shook a fist into the air and yelled, “In your face, Old Man Superstition! There’s the one you really want!” He pointed at Snively, who gasped in terror, a shriek emitting from his lips. “Packbell, what are you DOING?!” Snively screamed, cowering underneath his blankets. “You’re making it worse! Don’t arouse the Spirits’ wrath further! Are you mad?!”

Packbell roared with laughter at Snively’s paranoid antics, as he left the room. Snively could still hear the sound of his laughter, along with the sound of his footsteps, echoing all the way down the hall, gradually fading.

Still shaking, Snively emerged from his refuge under his blankets. “Oh, that Packbell’s really done it now,” he said, teeth chattering. He nervously gnawed away at his nails. “This is going to be the worst Friday the Thirteenth of my entire life, no thanks to him. My chances of survival have greatly decreased. I’ve got to try and protect myself from complete and utter doom, before it’s too late!” He decided to take extra precaution this year, and so just to be on the safe side he dressed himself in not his usual green uniform, but all in white- the purest color of all. Than he added a golden cross to wear around his neck, along with a string of garlic bulbs. Next, he stuffed his pockets with a bushel of four-leaf clovers and attached a shrunken head to his belt. “I do believe in superstition, I do believe in superstition, I do believe…” he chanted to himself as he headed on down to the Control Room, taking great pains not to step on any cracks on the way.

Snively entered the Control Room in his good luck get-up, reeking of garlic. “Do your worst, Packbell!” he said, pointing a finger towards the android. “Observe how well-protected I am from the likes of this cursed day! Nothing can touch me now!” Suddenly the music to M.C. Hammer’s song, “Can’t Touch Me” started playing out of nowhere. “Dun, dun, dun, dun, hmm, hmm- can’t touch me!” Snively sang, as he started break-dancing. “Dun, dun, dun, dun, hmm, hmm- can’t touch me!”

Robotnik and Packbell just regarded him with strange looks. “Um… yesss, Snively,” Robotnik said, as he loudly cleared his throat. He frowned. “Now than, Packbell tells me that you are late this morning because you were wasting time obsessing over your ridiculous fear of Friday the Thirteenth.” He raised an eyebrow. “I presume that’s the reason for that absurd get-up?”

“Oh, but sir, it really isn’t ridiculous!” Snively protested. “I truly have been cursed with bad luck every year on this day, honest! And this pure white outfit, along with these items, will hopefully drive the evil spirits away from me.”

Robotnik sighed. “Every year it’s the same old tiresome nonsense from you, Snively. I, for one, am getting quite tired of hearing it. But I suppose I’ll humor you… Now get to work on observing the activity on the surveillance monitors!” he snapped impatiently.

“Yes, sir,” Snively said.

Unbeknownst to Snively, Packbell snuck up from behind him with a carrier which contained a black cat. “Oh, Needlenose,” Packbell sang out, as he released the cat.

Snively gasped in horror. “GAH! A black cat is c-c-crossing my path!” he cried, pointing a shaking finger at the cat. “Depart from my presence at once, you befouled, fiendish feline from hell!” he yelled, holding up the shrunken head out towards it threateningly. “This I command you, in the name of the ancient gods of Mobius! LEAVE MY SIGHT, OH CREATURE OF UTMOST EVIL! BE GONE!”

The cat just rubbed up against Snively’s legs, purring the whole time. Than it leaped into Snively’s arms and licked his face, purring affectionately.

Snively screamed, dropped the cat, and furiously started to brush the black cat hairs from his white suit. “THE CREATURE TOUCHED ME! IT HAS LEFT IT’S MARKINGS ON ME! I HAVE SURELY BEEN CURSED! Must… counter… bad… luck!” With that, Snively, still holding the shrunken head in his left hand, began to dance around and chant something among the lines of “Ooga-booga! Ooga-booga! Oooga-booga!”, hoping to ward off the bad luck.

Packbell was rolling around on the floor in hysterics at this whole thing. “HA! What a gullible geekoid!” he laughed.

Later that day…

“Hey, Sniv’, look at what I’m doing!” Packbell called over to his paranoid “cousin”, who was sitting over at his computer console, typing up a progress report for Robotnik. Snively glanced up and gasped at what he saw. Packbell was walking underneath a whole tunnel of ladders that he lined up in a row! Not just one, but SIX! The unluckiest number of all!

“NOOO!” Snively screamed. “YOU FOOL! YOU’RE OUT TO KILL ME!” Acting quickly, Snively countered the so-called bad luck by crossing himself seven times in a row, for seven was a lucky number, all the while muttering some sort of prayer to himself.

Packbell took out a sandwich and pretended to get ready to eat it. “Mmmm, sardines and oil, my favorite! Hmm, I seem to be forgetting something… oh, yes! The salt! Now, where did I place that blasted salt shaker?” he asked innocently, looking all around. “Oh, there it is!” He reached over to grab the salt and “accidentally” knocked it over, spilling the contents all over the floor.

“YOU CLUMSY FOOL!” Snively screamed. Quickly, he scooped up a pinch of salt and threw it over his left shoulder… only hitting Robotnik in the eye, by mistake.

Robotnik angrily grabbed up his nephew by the scruff of his shirt. “My patience is wearing extremely thin with this whole “bad luck” notion of yours, Snively,” he growled. “If I hear one more word about it from your mouth again, I will personally see to it that you do receive a world of bad luck, if you get my meaning, dear boy!”

Snively chuckled nervously. “Y-yes, sir,” he said, sweating. He muttered under his breath, “May thou be forever cursed, oh vile unbeliever.”

“WHAT was that, Snively?” Robotnik snapped, tightening his grip.

“Er, I said… I believe you, sir!” Snively squeaked.

Still later…

While Robotnik was napping in his throne, Packbell glanced over at Snively, who was busy reviewing the security tapes from the past twenty-four hours.

The android grinned. This was going to be fun. He leaped high into the air and landed with force, the impact from his robotic feet caused a bunch of cracks to ripple across the floor of the entire room.

Snively started to walk over to Packbell, much annoyed. “Please, Packbell, do try to keep it down. I’m trying to work!” His eyes slowly lowered down, meeting with the cracks all across the floor, directly under his feet. “ARRGGHH! I’M STEPPING ON CRACKS!” he cried, as he jumped back, trying to avoid them. But it was no use, they were everywhere.

“Shut up, Snively!” Robotnik muttered in his sleep.

Snively didn’t even hear his uncle. He was too immersed in purifying himself from the bad luck by kneeling surrounded in a ring of burning candles, chanting “Oooga-booga! Oooga-booga! Ooga-booga! Oh, mighty, all-powerful Spirits of Friday the Thirteenth, hear me now! Please, I beg of you, graciously spare me from your great wrath upon this day of Wreakening! I humbly offer unto you an offering- this shrunken head! Please accept this gift, this token of peace from this lowly mortal, oh great Spirits!” he said, all the while bowing down.

Packbell roared with laughter. “Heck, Needlenose… I think you are finally losing it!”

“SILENCE, VILIANOUS UNBELIEVER!” Snively yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the android. “AWAY FROM MY SIGHT, OH SKEPTICAL ONE! AWAY, I SAY! YOU BRING ME NOTHING BUT BAD LUCK! YOU… ARE BAD LUCK!”

At that moment, Robotnik awoke with a start. “Did I just hear those two certain, words escape from your mouth, Snively?” he said, loudly raising his voice… as well as his fists. “I thought I forbade you to mention them in my presence!” He took a threatening step towards his nephew.

Snively rolled his eyes towards the heavens with a sigh. “Oh, what have I done to displease the gods this time?” he groaned, as he was snatched up by his furious uncle. “Why does Old Man Fate hate me so?”

Later that evening, Snively was pondering to himself why exactly none of his good luck charms were working. He was tired of accepting the fact that he was simply Naturally Unlucky all his life. He wanted to believe that he could change his own luck for the better, that he could be in charge of his own destiny. But it didn’t appear to work that way at all for him, no matter what he tried…

Suddenly an idea struck him, like a light bulb appearing above his head. “Wait a minute… that’s it! And I can’t believe I never noticed this before! I’m missing a very important good luck charm- a rabbit’s foot! Perhaps all my other charms simply will not go into effect until I collect this final and most essential piece! Only than will I forever be rid of my cursed misfortune!” He frowned. “Hmm… but how am I going to get my hands on a rabbit’s foot…?”

“FREEDOM FIGHTER ALERT, PRIORITY ONE!” the computer suddenly screeched.

Snively groaned. “Oh, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” he moaned sarcastically. But than, upon glancing up at the monitors, he noticed that Bunnie Rabbot was with the Hedgehog and the others tonight. “Hmm…” Snively rubbed his hands together fiendishly, as he got an idea. He grabbed that green headset that he wore whenever he communicated with ‘Bots. “Come in, SWATBots!” he ordered. “This is Commander Snively speaking. Seek out and capture the female Rabbot at once! When you find her, bring her to me down in the Interrogation Room immediately! I want her alive and unharmed. Over.” Chuckling, Snively hurried down to the Interrogation Room to wait.

“What in the hoo-haw do ya’ll think you’re doin’, Snively?” Bunnie asked angrily, as she struggled against the leg and wrist restrainers that strapped her to the metal table. Out in the city, the SWATs had found Bunnie alone, about to pull the switch that would shut down the main power generator. They had used their Stun Guns on her, knocking her unconscious, and she had awoken to find herself in some strange room in Robotnik’s fortress, strapped down to a table.

Smiling evilly, Snively approached Bunnie. “Ah, Ms. Rabbot,” he said. “I see that you’re awake. So nice of you to grace us with your presence, my dear.”

“What do ya’ll want from me, Bird Beak?” Bunnie snapped.

“Funny you should ask that, Ms. Rabbot,” Snively grinned. “It’s not much, really. Just a token, merely a trifle! You see, dear lady, as you know today is Friday the Thirteenth… and I, for one, have been having more than my fair share of misfortunes all day! In order to rid myself of this wretched luck I’ve had the displeasure of enduring… what I need from you is-” He narrowed his eyes. “-Your foot!”

“My foot?! Snively, ya’ll must be crazy if ya think Ah’m gonna let ya have my foot! Heck, you’re crazy for even believing in that mumbo-jumbo in the first place!”

“Oh, but I’m afraid it’s not really your choice, Ms. Rabbot,” Snively smirked, ignoring her last comment. He was now wearing one of those operating uniforms, complete with cap and mask. “But fear not- the operation should be a fairly quick and simple procedure,” he added, as he gestured towards an array of razor-sharp instruments and tools laying on the table beside Bunnie, their chrome surfaces all gleaming brightly. “However, I’m afraid it may get a tad, er, messy, but don’t worry. I’m well-prepared,” he smirked, as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. “And just so you won’t feel a thing during the operation, I’ll have the good decency to render you completely unconscious. So you see, I’m not such a bad guy, really.” He turned to the head SWATBot. “Set your ray to ‘Stun’,” he commanded.

“Ya’ll must shorely be crazy if ya actually believe that a rabbit’s foot is truly lucky, Needlenose!” Bunnie snapped. “Much less a metallic rabbit’s foot, to boot! Don’t ya’ll know that’s just an old wives’ tale by now? Just like this whole superstition thing is! Bunch of hogwash, that’s what it all is!”

“SILENCE!!” Snively suddenly screamed impatiently, angrily knocking over the tray of operating tools, sending them scattering every which way. “SHUT UP! I can’t deal with the likes of you people anymore! I am not crazy! Why won’t you fools believe me?! It’s all true! It’s the truth, I tell you! I SPEAK THE TRU-U-U-TH!!” Snively was so upset that he went into a fit of hysteria, crying and laughing at the same time, and rolling around on the floor.

Bunnie took this opportunity to use her robotic strength to break free of her restraints. The SWATs tried to stop her, but she karate-kicked them all, turning them into a junk-heap. “While ‘ol Bird Beak is busy losing his marbles, I’m getting the hip-hop out of here!” she said, as she ran past the little psychopath, out of the room.

Snively didn’t even notice, so great was his fit of hysteria. “So-o-o-o,” he giggled madly, “they all think I’m mad, do they?! Noooo… if I were truely mad, than I would…” He started smashing all the mirrors in the place, jumping up and down on all the cracks in the floors, walking under ladders, spilling salt, writing the number ‘6’ all over the walls, and hugging a whole group of black cats to himself, laughing hysterically the entire time. Snively than rushed outside. “COME ON, OLD MAN SUPERSTITION!” he screamed towards the heavens, as thunder and lightening clashed. “I’M CALLING YOU OUT!!”

A few seconds passed. Than… all of a sudden…

ZAP!!

A huge bolt of lightening struck Snively right on the spot, frying him crispy-black.

Snively coughed. “Oh!” he moaned, “I hate Friday the Thirteenth!” With a groan, he than fainted.

THE END

This has been a Shychick Production!