Categories > Cartoons > Paradise PD
Time Clock Trouble
0 reviewsAn evil clockmaker plans to make mincemeat out of Randall and Kevin.
0Unrated
Paradise PD
fanfic title:
Time Clock Trouble
by: Hailey Sands
Chapter One:
Dusty was perched on the corner of the desk, his face buried in a box of donuts. He shoved another one into his mouth, crumbs falling onto the paperwork he hadn’t bothered to read. Kevin, sitting at his desk across from him, typing nervously, his fingers twitching over his keyboard as if he were about to type something profound, but nothing ever came out.
Suddenly, the door burst open with such force that it rattled the windows. Randall stormed in dramatically, his eyes wide as if he’d just seen something truly bizarre—like, say, a Talking Head's concert in the middle of a supermarket.
Randall: "Listen up, team! We’ve got a big problem. The mysterious Clockmaker is wreaking havoc all over Paradise. Robberies, explosions, and people being forced to wear horrifyingly outdated watches. This is a direct threat to our town’s modern fashion sense!"
His face paler than usual. Kevin gulped.
Kevin: (hesitant) "Uh, Dad, is that...really the priority here?"
Dusty: (chiming in with half a donut) "I think outdated watches are kind of cool...but okay, let's focus. What's the plan?"
Randall: "The Clockmaker has henchmen lurking around at his secret hideout—the old clock tower downtown. Kevin and I will infiltrate the tower and gather intel. Dusty, you stay here and come up with backup plans, just in case. And make sure to wear something stylish while doing it. Those donuts aren’t a fashion statement."
As Randall and Kevin prepared for their mission, Dusty looked over his donuts, thinking they were, indeed, a fashion statement.
Dusty: "What? I’m bringing these to the party."
Chapter Two:
Randall and Kevin crept through the abandoned clock tower, the walls damp with age, the smell of dust and old metal thick in the air. Kevin glanced around, adjusting his glasses nervously.
Kevin: (whispering) "This place feels like the set of a Towering Inferno. The kind that’s trying way too hard to be creepy."
Randall: (grimly) "Keep it down, Kevin. We’re here for business, not a Netflix binge."
They tiptoed through the creaky hallways, following the distinct ticking sound that grew louder as they neared the tower’s inner chamber. The room was dimly lit, but the soft glow from a set of vintage lamps illuminated the Clockmaker, who stood in the center, wearing a long, weathered trench coat adorned with old-fashioned gears. He was watching his henchmen assemble enormous, sinister-looking clocks, each ticking ominously.
Kevin: (whispering) "This guy is seriously committed to his aesthetic…"
Randall: (sternly) "Quiet! We need to focus."
Suddenly, a floorboard creaked under their weight. A small sound, but it was enough. The Clockmaker's head snapped around, his wild eyes locking onto them like he had just spotted two hapless extras in a slasher film.
Clockmaker: (grinning) "Ah, Paradise PD! Right on time. Boys, grab them."
Within seconds, chaos erupted. Clockmaker’s henchmen, wearing matching steampunk goggles and leather gloves, rushed at them from all directions. They captured Randall and Kevin, dragging them toward the center of the room, where a set of giant spinning gears awaited them.
Kevin: What are you going to do with this?
Clockmaker: Time is my puppet, and I hold its strings. Tick-tock, your doom approaches, one second at a time!"
Randall: I hate this son of a bitch!
Chapter Three:
At the Dippin' Dots Building. It was Night Fitz is pacing the board room nervously, muttering to himself.
Fitz: (groaning) "Why did I have to take the shady meat pie from that back-alley food truck? I knew it smelled like trouble..."
His elite four Legion of DOOOOOM members took notice. Thester is busy trying to stitch his pants while Pedro scrolls through his phone. Frank is polishing a golden badge that clearly isn’t his.
Thester: "What’s up with Fitz? He looks like he’s gonna hurl... or turn into a dance instructor."
Pedro: "Eh, probably his gut screaming from his poor food choices again."
Frank: (snorting) "Wouldn't be the first time!"
Suddenly, Fitz drops to his knees. His body begins contorting as his hands grow claws, his teeth sharpen, and thick fur bursts out of his skin. The transformation into a werewolf begins.
Fitz: (snarling) "Oh no... not again!"
Pedro: (panicking) "Wait, THIS HAS HAPPENED BEFORE?!"
Chapter Four:
Back at the PD office, Dusty was pacing in circles. His mind raced, but it couldn’t process the potential doom of Randall and Kevin. He was at a crossroads. He couldn’t save the day like the action heroes he saw on TV—like, say, the cast of Fangface, who went on wild adventures while somehow turning into werewolves.
Dusty: (muttering) "What do I do? Randall and Kevin could be toast—or worse—clockwork toast! Or Clockwork Orange! I can’t do this alone!"
He glanced over at the shelves in the office, filled with action figures, arcade tokens, and various memorabilia. His eyes landed on a VHS copy of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.
Dusty: (to himself) "That’s it! If they can do it, so can I!"
He snatched the radio off the desk, fumbling with the buttons before he finally managed to call Gina and Bullet.
Dusty: "Gina! Bullet! I need your help, NOW. Randall and Kevin are in trouble, and... I think the Clockmaker is planning something big. And yes, it involves vintage timepieces and giant gears. It’s a whole thing."
Chapter Five:
The group huddles around, theorizing about Fitz’s sudden supernatural dilemma.
Frank: "Alright, lads. I watched An American Werewolf in London once. I know what we need—a cure for the curse!"
Thester: "Or just stick him in a cage until he stops being fluffy and angry."
Pedro: "Guys, I read online that there’s some ancient artifact that can break werewolf curses. It’s in... Gasp The abandoned carnival in Crabapple County!"
Now more wolf than man, Fitz growls in agreement.
Fitz: "Then let’s move. Before I lose what’s left of my humanity... and rip all your faces off."
Chapter Six:
Gina and Bullet burst into the clock tower like a wrecking crew. Bullet immediately began lobbing insults at the henchmen, throwing them off balance with his rapid-fire banter.
Bullet: (shouting) "Hey, Clockface! Did you steal those goggles from a Mission Impossible set? They don't even match your evildoer vibe!"
Clockmaker: Very gear turns with purpose, every second ticks with malice. I am the master of moments, and your time has run out.
Gina flexed her muscles, knocking down walls and clearing a path for Dusty, who followed nervously behind, clutching a giant wrench like it was a lifeline.
Dusty: (sweating bullets) "I-I think I can do this! I mean, how hard can it be to stop a bunch of giant gears from crushing our friends?"
The tension grew. Dusty approached the control panel, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the levers. Meanwhile, Randall’s voice echoed from below, surrounded by the relentless ticking of gears.
Randall: (from below) "Hurry up, you big obese lug! Unless you're too busy at Lobsterfest again."
Kevin: (strained) "Dusty, you can do this!"
Dusty wiped sweat from his brow. He wasn’t a hero. But damn it, he was gonna try. With one final wrench turn, the gears screeched to a halt. Randall and Kevin were freed just in time. Then the Clockmaker comes in.
Clockmaker: No way out now for you! Now that I have all of you I...
A clock gear fell onto the Clockmaker. Killing him instantly. Behind the clock gear there was Gina.
Gina: Those clock puns of his were getting on my fucking nerves! Could not fucking stand it anymore!
Dusty: That was awesome, Gina! Looks like Time Wasn't On His Side!
Bullet: Dusty doing a joke like that is a rarity for us!
Kevin: Thank you so much for saving us.
Randall: It feels stupid, me the Police Chief got kidnapped.
Chapter Seven:
At The Carnival – Midnight The Legion Of DOOOOOM arrives at the creepy, foggy carnival. Shadows flicker behind them.
Pedro: (nervous) "I swear, This is like that movie The Ritual.
Frank: "Relax, Pedro. I’ve got my trusty taser."
Thester: "Yeah, 'cause tasers definitely work against deer-like jotunn"
Fitz: lets out a low growl as they move deeper into the carnival’s maze-like grounds.
Chapter Eight:
Out of nowhere, invisible creatures knock over signs and booths, making a cacophony of noise.
Fitz: (sniffing the air) "They're close..."
Suddenly, a shadowy figure flickers into visibility—a spectral wolf-like beast. Chaos ensues as Gerald and the team fight to retrieve the artifact.
Frank: "Teamwork, people! Remember: No one dies until AFTER coffee!"
The Artifact Chamber The Legion of DOOOOOOM finally locates the glowing artifact—a silver orb embedded in a cursed mirror.
Pedro: "Touch it, Fitz! Break the curse!"
Grabbing the orb with his clawed hands, Fitz was howling as the curse dissipates. He collapses, transforming back into his human form.
Fitz: (panting) "Guys... remind me never to eat meat pies again."
Thester: (deadpan) "Lesson learned. Let’s go home before YOU turn into another problem."
Closing Scene: Paradise PD Headquarters – Morning The team sits back, exhausted.
Frank: (grinning) "So... what’s next? Vampire Fitz? Zombie Fitz?"
Pedro: "Don’t even joke, Frank."
The End
fanfic title:
Time Clock Trouble
by: Hailey Sands
Chapter One:
Dusty was perched on the corner of the desk, his face buried in a box of donuts. He shoved another one into his mouth, crumbs falling onto the paperwork he hadn’t bothered to read. Kevin, sitting at his desk across from him, typing nervously, his fingers twitching over his keyboard as if he were about to type something profound, but nothing ever came out.
Suddenly, the door burst open with such force that it rattled the windows. Randall stormed in dramatically, his eyes wide as if he’d just seen something truly bizarre—like, say, a Talking Head's concert in the middle of a supermarket.
Randall: "Listen up, team! We’ve got a big problem. The mysterious Clockmaker is wreaking havoc all over Paradise. Robberies, explosions, and people being forced to wear horrifyingly outdated watches. This is a direct threat to our town’s modern fashion sense!"
His face paler than usual. Kevin gulped.
Kevin: (hesitant) "Uh, Dad, is that...really the priority here?"
Dusty: (chiming in with half a donut) "I think outdated watches are kind of cool...but okay, let's focus. What's the plan?"
Randall: "The Clockmaker has henchmen lurking around at his secret hideout—the old clock tower downtown. Kevin and I will infiltrate the tower and gather intel. Dusty, you stay here and come up with backup plans, just in case. And make sure to wear something stylish while doing it. Those donuts aren’t a fashion statement."
As Randall and Kevin prepared for their mission, Dusty looked over his donuts, thinking they were, indeed, a fashion statement.
Dusty: "What? I’m bringing these to the party."
Chapter Two:
Randall and Kevin crept through the abandoned clock tower, the walls damp with age, the smell of dust and old metal thick in the air. Kevin glanced around, adjusting his glasses nervously.
Kevin: (whispering) "This place feels like the set of a Towering Inferno. The kind that’s trying way too hard to be creepy."
Randall: (grimly) "Keep it down, Kevin. We’re here for business, not a Netflix binge."
They tiptoed through the creaky hallways, following the distinct ticking sound that grew louder as they neared the tower’s inner chamber. The room was dimly lit, but the soft glow from a set of vintage lamps illuminated the Clockmaker, who stood in the center, wearing a long, weathered trench coat adorned with old-fashioned gears. He was watching his henchmen assemble enormous, sinister-looking clocks, each ticking ominously.
Kevin: (whispering) "This guy is seriously committed to his aesthetic…"
Randall: (sternly) "Quiet! We need to focus."
Suddenly, a floorboard creaked under their weight. A small sound, but it was enough. The Clockmaker's head snapped around, his wild eyes locking onto them like he had just spotted two hapless extras in a slasher film.
Clockmaker: (grinning) "Ah, Paradise PD! Right on time. Boys, grab them."
Within seconds, chaos erupted. Clockmaker’s henchmen, wearing matching steampunk goggles and leather gloves, rushed at them from all directions. They captured Randall and Kevin, dragging them toward the center of the room, where a set of giant spinning gears awaited them.
Kevin: What are you going to do with this?
Clockmaker: Time is my puppet, and I hold its strings. Tick-tock, your doom approaches, one second at a time!"
Randall: I hate this son of a bitch!
Chapter Three:
At the Dippin' Dots Building. It was Night Fitz is pacing the board room nervously, muttering to himself.
Fitz: (groaning) "Why did I have to take the shady meat pie from that back-alley food truck? I knew it smelled like trouble..."
His elite four Legion of DOOOOOM members took notice. Thester is busy trying to stitch his pants while Pedro scrolls through his phone. Frank is polishing a golden badge that clearly isn’t his.
Thester: "What’s up with Fitz? He looks like he’s gonna hurl... or turn into a dance instructor."
Pedro: "Eh, probably his gut screaming from his poor food choices again."
Frank: (snorting) "Wouldn't be the first time!"
Suddenly, Fitz drops to his knees. His body begins contorting as his hands grow claws, his teeth sharpen, and thick fur bursts out of his skin. The transformation into a werewolf begins.
Fitz: (snarling) "Oh no... not again!"
Pedro: (panicking) "Wait, THIS HAS HAPPENED BEFORE?!"
Chapter Four:
Back at the PD office, Dusty was pacing in circles. His mind raced, but it couldn’t process the potential doom of Randall and Kevin. He was at a crossroads. He couldn’t save the day like the action heroes he saw on TV—like, say, the cast of Fangface, who went on wild adventures while somehow turning into werewolves.
Dusty: (muttering) "What do I do? Randall and Kevin could be toast—or worse—clockwork toast! Or Clockwork Orange! I can’t do this alone!"
He glanced over at the shelves in the office, filled with action figures, arcade tokens, and various memorabilia. His eyes landed on a VHS copy of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.
Dusty: (to himself) "That’s it! If they can do it, so can I!"
He snatched the radio off the desk, fumbling with the buttons before he finally managed to call Gina and Bullet.
Dusty: "Gina! Bullet! I need your help, NOW. Randall and Kevin are in trouble, and... I think the Clockmaker is planning something big. And yes, it involves vintage timepieces and giant gears. It’s a whole thing."
Chapter Five:
The group huddles around, theorizing about Fitz’s sudden supernatural dilemma.
Frank: "Alright, lads. I watched An American Werewolf in London once. I know what we need—a cure for the curse!"
Thester: "Or just stick him in a cage until he stops being fluffy and angry."
Pedro: "Guys, I read online that there’s some ancient artifact that can break werewolf curses. It’s in... Gasp The abandoned carnival in Crabapple County!"
Now more wolf than man, Fitz growls in agreement.
Fitz: "Then let’s move. Before I lose what’s left of my humanity... and rip all your faces off."
Chapter Six:
Gina and Bullet burst into the clock tower like a wrecking crew. Bullet immediately began lobbing insults at the henchmen, throwing them off balance with his rapid-fire banter.
Bullet: (shouting) "Hey, Clockface! Did you steal those goggles from a Mission Impossible set? They don't even match your evildoer vibe!"
Clockmaker: Very gear turns with purpose, every second ticks with malice. I am the master of moments, and your time has run out.
Gina flexed her muscles, knocking down walls and clearing a path for Dusty, who followed nervously behind, clutching a giant wrench like it was a lifeline.
Dusty: (sweating bullets) "I-I think I can do this! I mean, how hard can it be to stop a bunch of giant gears from crushing our friends?"
The tension grew. Dusty approached the control panel, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the levers. Meanwhile, Randall’s voice echoed from below, surrounded by the relentless ticking of gears.
Randall: (from below) "Hurry up, you big obese lug! Unless you're too busy at Lobsterfest again."
Kevin: (strained) "Dusty, you can do this!"
Dusty wiped sweat from his brow. He wasn’t a hero. But damn it, he was gonna try. With one final wrench turn, the gears screeched to a halt. Randall and Kevin were freed just in time. Then the Clockmaker comes in.
Clockmaker: No way out now for you! Now that I have all of you I...
A clock gear fell onto the Clockmaker. Killing him instantly. Behind the clock gear there was Gina.
Gina: Those clock puns of his were getting on my fucking nerves! Could not fucking stand it anymore!
Dusty: That was awesome, Gina! Looks like Time Wasn't On His Side!
Bullet: Dusty doing a joke like that is a rarity for us!
Kevin: Thank you so much for saving us.
Randall: It feels stupid, me the Police Chief got kidnapped.
Chapter Seven:
At The Carnival – Midnight The Legion Of DOOOOOM arrives at the creepy, foggy carnival. Shadows flicker behind them.
Pedro: (nervous) "I swear, This is like that movie The Ritual.
Frank: "Relax, Pedro. I’ve got my trusty taser."
Thester: "Yeah, 'cause tasers definitely work against deer-like jotunn"
Fitz: lets out a low growl as they move deeper into the carnival’s maze-like grounds.
Chapter Eight:
Out of nowhere, invisible creatures knock over signs and booths, making a cacophony of noise.
Fitz: (sniffing the air) "They're close..."
Suddenly, a shadowy figure flickers into visibility—a spectral wolf-like beast. Chaos ensues as Gerald and the team fight to retrieve the artifact.
Frank: "Teamwork, people! Remember: No one dies until AFTER coffee!"
The Artifact Chamber The Legion of DOOOOOOM finally locates the glowing artifact—a silver orb embedded in a cursed mirror.
Pedro: "Touch it, Fitz! Break the curse!"
Grabbing the orb with his clawed hands, Fitz was howling as the curse dissipates. He collapses, transforming back into his human form.
Fitz: (panting) "Guys... remind me never to eat meat pies again."
Thester: (deadpan) "Lesson learned. Let’s go home before YOU turn into another problem."
Closing Scene: Paradise PD Headquarters – Morning The team sits back, exhausted.
Frank: (grinning) "So... what’s next? Vampire Fitz? Zombie Fitz?"
Pedro: "Don’t even joke, Frank."
The End
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