A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
This story takes place approximately 14 years after the final episode of Rocket Power; 'The Big Day'. It is the third in a series of stories meant to crossover several Nicktoons into a shared universe, and will make a few references to the prior stories. For full context of the references and to fully grasp the shared universe that these stories share, you are recommended to read the prior stories 'Hey Arnold! The Football Head Returns' and 'Danny Phantom: End of Days' to chronologically follow the story.
Please note that this story will take influence of various stoner comedies, so many scatological jokes, sexual remarks, and several marijuana references will be made. I apologize if the humor is not to your liking, but it is written to stay accurate to an older interpretation of the characters of the show.
Also take note that any and all sporting good brand-names mentioned are made to provide an accurate description to the sports themselves and I have not received any money for doing so. Additionally, as I have not personally tried any of the sports mentioned here (although I would like to), my understanding of it is low. I apologize for any inaccuracies made towards the sports and their fanatics.
With that out of the way, enjoy the ride.
For the early years of mankind, many men and women, on their search for new territories to explore, new resources to repurpose to their advantages, have always looked to the skies. Many looked in search for gods, many looked for business, and, after years of exploration and hard work, it seems that the skies have proven very good for human business.
One such business is a discreet shipping company, one that is not recognized by any legitimate market in the country. This company, making stealthy deliveries by air, has been assigned the task of shipping a top-secret piece of technology, one not of this Earth, from the possession of Membrane Laboratories to a wealthy man named Buckley Lloyd residing in the city of Hillwood. His story is better told elsewhere.
Inside the aircraft, the 2 ex-military pilots, being stuck with the task of operating a plane for several hours with nothing else to pass the time, talk to each other to exchange interesting stories in hopes to fight boredom of their job.
"So, tell me again about your leave in France?" One pilot asked.
"Right, so I was stationed in France for a few months, and I got a week of leave that I decided to spend in the city. A lot of people say that Paris is the most beautiful city on Earth, but it's really no different from back home. It's different, but it's just got little differences." The other pilot replied.
While the two pilots continued their conversation, another plane found its way across the skies, ominously heading towards the plane carrying the technologically advanced cargo within. As the plane was not yet within the pilots' radar just yet, they continued their conversation, unsuspecting and innocently.
"Gimme an example." The first pilot asked.
"Well, I went to the Nasty Burger and went to get some food, but they don't have Double Pounders with cheese. Know why?" The second pilot asked.
"Cause they got the metric system?"
"Yeah, man, they use the metric system, they got no clue what a 'pound' is. You know what they call it instead?"
"What do they call it? A Royale with cheese?"
"Close. The 'Royal Cheese'."
The rogue plane made its way above the cargo plane, positioning itself a few feet in front, while keeping a high altitude above it. The rogue plane, now in its prime position, began to deploy its own cargo.
The side door to the plane opened, with 3 men climbing out, jumping out to a freefall. Wearing specially-designed wingsuits, the 3 skydivers made their way to the plane, with the intention of stealing its cargo for themselves.
The first pilot, finding amusement in his colleague's humorous story, laughed upon hearing the Parisian name for a hamburger.
"'The Royal Cheese', huh? What do they call the Nasty Sauce?" The first pilot asked.
"Nasty Sauce's just the Nasty Sauce, but they call it le Nasty Sauce." The other pilot replied.
The first pilot laughed yet again at his colleague's stories.
"Le Nasty Sauce. Big difference. What do they call a Good Burger?" The first pilot asked.
"I don't know, I didn't go to Good Burger." The other pilot replied.
The skydiving raiders made their way to the top of the plane, preparing to make their way down to the cargo hold. Using carefully-designed suction gloves and boots, the thieves climbed down to the cargo doors, preparing to open them and steal the cargo within.
"So, where's this thing going, anyway?" The first pilot asked.
"It's getting sent to a guy named Buckley Lloyd. Some richie rich guy." The other pilot replied.
"Buckley Lloyd? The stock broker with the charity? What the hell does he want with this thing?"
"I asked that when I was told who we were sending this to. Take a guess what they told me."
After giving an annoyed sigh, the two pilots spoke the answer to the question, both knowing a familiar answer all too well.
"'You're on a need-to-know basis, and you don't need to know'." They both said.
After careful work with a miniaturized arc welder, one of the airborne thieves carefully hacked into the controls for the cargo hold, beginning to open the door. Upon opening the door, the 3 thieves made their way inside the plane, preparing to take the cargo within.
"Man, don't you wish we were in the Middle East, fighting Afghanis like the good old days?" The first pilot asked.
"You call getting shot at 'good old days'?" The other pilot asked.
"Well, not really the shooting part, but I mean just doing something other than just sitting in a damn plane listening to each other's bullshit stories."
"Well, careful what you wish for, pal, you never know what might happen."
And how right the pilot was, as the aerial thieves began to move the cargo out of the plane. As the 3 pushed the heavy cargo towards the open bay door, one of the thieves attached a parachute onto the crate, allowing the cargo to safely descend to the ground without harming the contents inside.
As the crate began its freefall to the ground, its parachute deployed, slowing its descent towards the ground. The 3 raiders, their mission accomplished, began to make their way off the plane. One raider, hacking back into the plane's control, closed the door behind the group, leaving no evidence of their quick and swift thievery.
The thieves' plane, making its way back down, caught up with the group to proceed to the next part of their plan. The 3 raiders, still in freefall, guided the crate towards their next destination, planning to meet with the plane.
Several feet below, resting on the ground, a freight truck carrying a flatbed trailer awaited the stolen cargo to arrive. Several feet above, the 3 raiders, making their aim carefully, positioned the crate to land softly onto the flatbed, with the parachute descending its fall.
With their mark set, the 3 raiders set their own parachutes off, giving them a safe landing to the ground. Upon reaching the ground, the group quickly disposed of their parachutes, with 2 climbing back aboard the plane and one driving the truck to a secret destination.
After the group had accomplished their mission, the plane began to make its way back to its place of origin, with the truck carrying the stolen cargo not far behind.
In the skies, the two pilots continued to have no idea about the missing cargo, continuing to carry on with their inane stories about their mediocre lives.
"So did you catch the new issue of Danny Phantom?" The first pilot asked.
"I don't read comic books. They always have such ludicrous plots." The other pilot said.
Miles away from the oblivious pilots, in an undisclosed location within the southern Californian city of Ocean Shores, the truck arrived at its destination: an abandoned warehouse in the heart of the old industrial city.
The remaining skydiving thieves and the pilot of their plane, who had all been awaiting patiently for the truck to arrive, quickly got to work unloading the crate from the truck, all of them more than eager to see the contents.
The 4 thieves opened the crate, all looking upon the contents inside. Although all the thieves wore heavy, high-tech masks to conceal their faces, anyone could easily tell that the group was smiling widely under their masks, more than satisfied with their mission gone well.
"Boys, we've all just become millionaires." The leader said.