Mr. Nibbles and Jimmy were locked in mortal combat. Mr. Nibbles had gained the advantage, but couldn't quite summon the will to strike the killing blow. But then the room seemed to flash ripple, dissolve, flow... For a moment Mr. Nibbles lost sight of the others. Grimly he gritted his teeth. He hated when this happened, but knew how to deal with it. Through sheer effort of will, Mr. Nibbles forced Mr. Big, Jimmy and Helen to reappear. But Mr. Nibbles was too drained from the fight, and couldn't hold on to their surroundings. These dissolved away entirely and mutated into an entirely unfamiliar form. As always, the others seemed totally at ease with the transition, and in fact seemed not to have noticed it, while Mr. Nibbles found himself profoundly disturbed. As Jimmy approached him once more, he had no power to resist.

Helen seemed to sense his distress. She glanced up. "Do something Nibbles!" she simpered, "Do something Nibbles before they destroy us both!"

Again, Mr. Nibbles was touched. He knew what an effort it was for Helen to simper, and what a toll it took on her self-image. Her encouragement almost gave him the strength to carry on, but he couldn't risk it. If he failed now, the consequences would be unthinkable. Better to make a strategic retreat, and regroup, rather than lose everything.

"Ah... I'll be right back. I... I have to go to the toilet," declared Mr. Nibbles.

Before the others could react, he strode out of the room abruptly, in what he hoped appeared to be a purposeful and confident manner. He had no idea what to do. Yet he felt strangely exhilarated. His jaw was firm, and his eyes shone with resolve. Puzzled, he wondered why he felt this way, after being routed. Jimmy. He had been spared that impossible decision. It was a failure, a setback, a flop and Mr. Nibbles was ecstatic.

He marched down the corridor, jubilantly stomping his feet as much as was possible in puppy-dog slippers. He noted without interest that the corridor had changed utterly. The view through the windows now appeared to be of deep space. Lucky the panes aren't smashed anymore, thought Mr. Nibbles absently. Then he spotted a gent's restroom and entered it quickly. All was peaceful inside, and he finally could relax and take stock of his situation. It appeared they must now be in a spaceship of some sort. A spaceship, he thought to himself. What was he to do? At least he would have some time to collect his wits here but no, he scolded himself, what was he thinking of? He had instinctively thought of the washroom as a place of sanctuary. But of course nothing was sacred to Mr. Big, and he was afraid he had left enough loose ends for Big and Jimmy to track him down. He grimaced as he recalled the "I have to go to the toilet" remark. Even Mr. Big would be able to spot the subtle clue in that. He would not have much time now. He had to think quickly.

But it was already too late. He heard footsteps outside, then:

"We know you are in zer Nibbles zo you can come on out. We have got ze door surrounded... aa hh ahahahaha," shouted Mr. Big triumphantly.

"Err yeah so youse can come on out of der Nibbles," he heard Jimmy say coldly. Mr. Nibbles shuddered as he noted the hint of gangster accent in Jimmy's voice. Only now did he realise how offended Jimmy must have been when he ran away rather than submitting gracefully to being ripped apart. He could hope for no mercy from that quarter. He had to think quickly.

"And what if I don't want to?" he demanded, stalling.

"Look Nibbles youse can come on out of der now," reiterated Jimmy to clarify matters.

Desperately, Mr. Nibbles cast about for a plan. Then he had it. It was brilliant in its simplicity. They would be talking about it for years afterwards. The Nibbles strategy they would call it. He would be famous. First though, he needed to lure Jimmy in.

"I can't, I'm stuck," said Mr. Nibbles.

"Right zen" said Mr. Big. "You leave us with ze no alternative. Knuckles, you know what to do."

"Herr herr yeah right boss herr herr. I know just what ta do boss herr herr. It'll be a pleasure boss."

"Zo? Get on with it!"

"Yeah boss, I'll get right on with it boss." This time it was Jimmy's turn to stall. This wasn't a situation he had ever dealt with before. They don't train gangsters to cope with people being stuck in toilets. "I'll just give him a minute or two to try and "

"Knuckles!"

"But boss, this could get messy boss!"

"PumpfFFmpFKINStipPler! Get in zere and flush him out!"

"EUhhhh right boss."

Jimmy didn't like it, but he had to do it. He opened the door to the washroom cautiously, and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, and rather damp. It was totally quiet, but for a soft plinking noise like the sound of a tap dripping. Plink plink plink. It was at times like this that Jimmy wished he had never left the farm back home to seek his fortune in the neighbouring village metropolis. He never really wanted to be an evil henchman. It wasn't meant to turn out this way. It had all somehow gone horribly wrong. He wasn't really bad at heart. He was a good boy like his mommy used to say. Jimmy 'The Knuckles' Brannigan wasn't cut out for this evil henchman business. He never intended it to be this way, he had always wanted to be... to be... a ballet dancer. The bright lights the glamour... the pointy shoes.... Sure the others laughed at him, chided him, called him names and made fun of him. He didn't care at first. But then the years passed. And somehow it had all gone horribly wrong.

And now here he was, a henchman, just as helpless in his own way as Helen the hostage heroine when it came to standing up to Mr. Big. In fact more so; Mr. Big was never quite able to intimidate Helen. But Jimmy backed down from any confrontation, unwilling to show disrespect to his elder. Well he wasn't standing for it any longer! He stood there, listening to the plink, plink, plink, the rhythm gradually filling his body. He found his feet starting to shuffle. A particularly loud plink evoked a spontaneous little pirouette. Yes! This was what he was born for! He surrendered himself to the music that filled his head. First he executed a simple pas-de-four with a delightful twist of menage-a-trois. Gathering confidence, he plunged into a complex sequence of au-revoirs and au-laits. Unfortunately in the absence of pointy shoes the aerodynamics of these moves were all wrong, and he was slammed against the wall like a well, the world has seen remarkably few instances of ballet-dancing henchmen slamming into the walls of lavatories, so an analogy has not been well established. But there was a sizable thud, and Jimmy 'Twinkletoes' Brannigan was knocked out cold. Mr. Nibbles, on hearing this, stopped making plink plink plink noises and stepped out of his cubicle to survey the fruits of his diabolical scheme.

"Shaaay Jimmy, you ain't much of a dancer," drawled Mr. Nibbles happily. He instantly regretted his triumphant tone. When, years earlier, he had made a careful study of Jimmy's childhood, he had hoped merely to discover common interests with which to nurture their fragile friendship. It pained him to have used Jimmy's secret longings and regrets against him. But it had been the only way. He had to succeed, he had to survive, he had to defeat Mr. Big and save the Earth. Mr. Nibbles heaved a weary sigh, and began to consider his options. He had to think quickly.

Continued - here