Kim Possible Porn Story: 24601 Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I dont own Kim Possible
Now the wheel has turned around; Jean Valjean is nothing now!
-Inspector Javert
On Parole and The Bishop
Kim stepped off of the bus that had delivered her back to Middleton from the state prison she had been forced to call home for the past five years of her life. She had only just turned sixteen when she had been caught pilfering foodstuffs from the home of Middleton High Schools librarian, who apparently adapted whatever unholy organizational system that she used at her place of work for use in her kitchen pantry as well as a state-of-the-art security system.
Kim had cursed her luck for years after the event; after all, what were the odds that she would break into the only house in Middleton whose resident would report a missing loaf of bread to the police? What were the odds that the detective assigned to the case had to be the only human being in existence who could justify spending enough money to feed Kim and her brothers for a year on solving such an insignificant crime? What were the odds of this all happening on an election year with a district attorney who wanted to appear tough on crime for her constituents by grossly inflating the charges against her? And let no one forget the judge who, for similar reasons, handed down a sentence wildly disproportionate to the crime she had committed.
All of that bad luck, however, could almost be forgotten in the beautiful Colorado air almost. Her return to the free world had been marred from its very outset by the failure of the authorities to locate her twin brothers, whom she had been forced to leave behind when Inspector Barkin had incapacitated her with a shock from his taser and taken her into custody. While she had little doubt that her brothers had been able to get along fine in her absencefour years of experience on the streets (the first three didn’t count, in Kim’s opinion) and enough brainpower between them to put almost any of todays finest scientific minds to shame were major plusses in the ability to survive columnit would have been extraordinarily nice to be able to see them, if for no other reason than to keep an eye on the twin terrors.
Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your little brothers within arms reach.
Ronald Dean Stoppable trudged into the inn with a light wallet a heavyand gigglingload slung in his arm.
Five years ago, Ron was on top of the world. The tow-headed boy was in love with his beautiful girlfriend, who had become agreed to become his fianc shortly before she had informed him that he was to become a father. His parents had been understandably concerned, as the two were only juniors in their respective high schools, but they felt that they couldn’t object too strongly, not having been much older themselves when Ron had been born. ‘At least,’ they thought, ‘they agreed to put off the wedding until after their daughter, was born.’
For almost seven months, life carried on as it should: his wife-to-be grew progressively larger (and, to Ron, progressively more beautiful), and he was there to support her through the considerable trials of pregnancy.
Then his parents died in a car accident with a drunk driver with no license and no insurance. To their sons considerable surprise, his parents hadironically, considering his fathers professionfailed to purchase any form of life insurance (Ron morbidly imagined them saying, in ghostly tones, that This is our way of telling you.). Within the month, the bank foreclosed on the house, the surviving car was gone, and Rons personal savings were exhausted.
Then his fianc called to let him know that she was going into labor. Early. Ron hailed a cab and raced to the hospital, where he spent the next eight hours holding his loves hand and encouraging her through the ordeal. When baby Hana was born, she was everything Ron had ever dreamed of in a child. In spite of all the trials and tribulations he had gone through in the last month, his beautiful daughter gave him hope that everything would turn out alright.
The next day, Yori checked out of the hospital AMA and vanished like a ninja into the night. Ron would never see or hear from her ever again.
Financially in ruin and saddled with the responsibility (and hospital bills) of taking care of a premature infant on his own, Ron did what he did best: panic. After getting that out of his system, he buckled down and got a halfway decent job. For a short time, it looked like he would be able to dig himself out of the hole he and Hana were in which to Ron, meant that he was past due for life to kick him in the teeth once again.
He was probably one of the few people in the country who wasnt surprised when the economy (figuratively) went up in flames and the company he worked for went belly up. That his apartment (literally) went up in flames that same day was, to him, almost as predictable. His only consolation was that he had managed to get Hana out before any harm could come to her.
And so Ronald Dean Stoppable, with only a thousand dollars in his bank account standing between him and being homeless and penniless, trudged into the shoddy-looking inn in search of a roof for the night.
Good evening, monsieur, said the man behind the counter, and welcome to Drakkanada. How may I help you? A voice in the back of Rons head remarked that the faintly blue-tinged man before him(What weird lighting this place has!) would have likely been a mad scientist in another life, but he studiously ignored it and made his way to the desk.
I just need a ro- Ron was cut off by the sound of wailing coming from the back room, which was soon accompanied by a tired womans voice all but begging for the source of the din to go back to sleep. The noise of an infant being taken care of provided the inspiration for the idea that would change Rons life forever.
The next day, Ronald Dean Stoppable trudged out of the inn with an even lighter wallet than he had arrived with, and left behind a giggling infant in the hands of a family that would be capable of taking proper care of her so long as he helped pay for her upkeep.
The joy of freedom was quickly wearing off for Kim. Her status as an ex-con and a parolee made finding a place to live all but impossible, and when she could find a place willing to permit her residence, the living conditions were abominable and the rent exorbitant. Then came the problem of a job.
Kim stared down at her paycheck in astonishment. She had worked sixty hours for the last week for this pittance? Surely, there had to have been a mistake. But when she talked to Ned, the assistant manager
Youre right, Miss Possible, payroll did make a mistake: you were overpaid this week. Itll be deducted from your next paycheck though, so dont worry.
Kim was outraged. Overpaid?! This this check wouldnt buy my sweat! I put in twenty hours of overtime-
Which, Ned interrupted, was the cause for the mistake. According to the latest Get Tough on Crime law passed by the state legislature, parolees are ineligible for overtime pay. Why else do you think you were hired?
That had proven to be the last straw for Kim, who lost it and opened up sixteen cans of ass-kicking on her overbearing ex-boss. And while giving the little tyrant a turbo-noogie had felt all kinds of good, the fact that she now had no foreseeable source of income with which to spend on little things like food and rent put a serious damper on her sense of euphoria. The next month, the landlord provided her with a notice of eviction, and Kim was kicked to the curb.
Homeless, hungry, and without any job prospects, she wandered the streets of Middleton aimlessly, paying little attention to where she was going, and even less to her surroundings. It wasnt until she felt another shoulder collide with hers that she snapped out of her stupor just in time to see the surprised bearded face of the man that she had run into fall backwards into the street. With the reflexes of a cat, Kim reached out and grabbed the man by the lapel and jerked him back onto the sidewalk just as a pickup truck flew by, blissfully unaware of the man it had come within milliseconds of flattening.
Oh my God, are you okay? Im so sorr- Kim was cut off by a wave of the hand from the man she had almost knocked into traffic.
Im alright, thanks to you. That move of yours saved my life! The bearded man grinned and pulled a thick pair of glasses out of his pocket and placed them on his face. Besides, he admitted, its not as though I am entirely blameless. Walking around without these on was not the best decision I have made today ah, the vanity of middle age. At this, Kim let out a relieved snicker that, to her embarrassment, was accompanied by a loud rumbling from her stomach and a corresponding chuckle from her companion.
Please, allow me to introduce myself; my name is Rabbi Gerald Katz, and this, he waved his hand toward the building they were standing in front of, is my place of work. As luck would have it, were having a potluck lunch in a few minutes, and we would be honored if you would break bread with us.
The food was delicious, and the company was extremely friendly. Kim was greeted by every member of the congregation as one of their own, even in spite of the yellow ticket clearly identifying her as an ex-con and parolee. The Rabbi himself proved to be one of the most skilled listeners she had ever encountered, and she soon found herself giving him her life story. The two talked long after the get-together had ended and the synagogue cleaned up. Eventually, however, Rabbi Katz had to go home to his family, and Kim had to go to
If you would like, Kimberly, you may use the couch to sleep on for tonight. Its not the most comfortable arrangement, Ill admit-
But, Kim interrupted, its better than a park bench. Thank you for your kindness, Rabbi. The older man simply smiled at her and left, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Idly, Kim fingered the cursed yellow marker that so visibly and publicly marked her as a criminal. She had thought that by virtue of being out of prison, she would be free. Now, however, she realized that even on the outside, she was imprisoned. She couldnt live off of potluck lunches and she certainly couldnt sleep on the synagogues rec room couch for the rest of her days but she couldnt see what choice she had. After the Bueno Nacho fiasco with Nedwhich she regretted only because it made her even more unemployable than beforemaking a living wage was impossible, and given her experience with her bloodsucking landlord
Feeling restless, Kim got up off the couch and wandered the building on autopilot. After walking through the hallways for the better part of an hour, she stumbled upon a silver menorah in a glass case. For ten minutes she wrestled with herself, before finally succumbing to temptation and picking the lock.
Feeling guilty about the theft, she penned a note apologizing for her repayment of the Rabbis kindness then she took the silver and took her flight.
In retrospect, Kim decided that taking flight may not have been the wisest of choices; the police tend to take notice of people running in the middle of the night, and people with large unwieldy chunks of precious metal in their hand even more so. Her yellow tag, as usual, did little to help matters.
Her sense of shame would only permit her to feebly lie about the menorah being a gift from Rabbi Katz, and to her horror the police officers decided to put her story to the test. Thus, she found herself in front of the Rabbis modest home, waiting for the man who had treated her so kindly to be informed of her treachery.
The officer to her right rang the doorbell, and shortly she found herself face to face with the man whom she had robbed. The officer on her left explained Kims story to the Rabbi, who, after throwing the briefest of disappointed glances in Kims direction
What she told you, sir, is true. I thank you for your concern, but the only crime Miss Possible here is guilty of is leaving before I could fetch the rest of her present for her.
The officers clearly didnt believe a word of what the Rabbi was saying, but as he obviously had no plans to press charges, there was no point in arresting the young woman standing between them.
Once they were alone on the doorstep, a heavy silence fell between them. Unable to bear the shame of her actions, Kim thrust the menorah in her hands towards the Rabbi, who surprised her again by pushing it back into her arms.
Miss Possible, I was not completely lying to those two officers who brought you here tonight. I will make you a present of this silverthere isnt any more, I was lying about thaton one condition. Kim, who had been unable to look him in the eye up to that point, forced her face upwards. I want you to take this precious silver here and use it to make an honest life for yourself.
Kim was speechless, and so resorted to silently nodding her assent to the conditions the Rabbi had proposed.
Good. Now that thats settled, Im going back to bed. Good night, Miss Possible, and good bye.
The door shut quietly behind him, and the porch light turned off seconds later.
When the sun rose the next morning, the only sign that Kimberly Anne Possible had ever been there was the torn remains of her yellow ticket of leave lying in front of the door.
Authors Note: The Bishop is one of my favorite characters in the musical, even though hes only there for two songs. That is some serious cheek turning.