“I’ll get that spiky blue hedgehog this time!” cackled the fat man sitting at his controls. The machine those controls directed rumbled along beneath him, scattering Rotten Ornery Animals Dedicated to Keeping the Innocent Lying Low (R.O.A.D.K.I.L.L.), smashing through trees, and generally making a nuisance of itself. The man in question, besides owning the mother of all potbellies, wore a red overcoat, white gloves, black pants and black sneakers. An extremely large and thick orange mustache dominated his face, contrasting a head bald save for the locks of hair that sprouted above each ear. A large beaky nose pointed from beneath a pair of dark sunglasses, while an ever-present maniac’s smile cracked on his face. He appeared to have no neck to speak of.

The machine itself was larger than two cement trucks tied together, with a heavy drill bit on the front, a box-like metal chasse, tank-treads, a bubble cockpit, and scorpion-like tail with a scythe blade and an ominous looking opening at the tip for the delivery of all manner of weapons.

“Sonic will be no match for my new S.T.D. (Scorpion Tank, Drill), Mwahahahahaha!” Dr. Robotnik turned towards the topographic 3-D map display, which showed both his position and Sonic the Hedgehog’s last known one, then glanced at his Chronometer.

“But it looks like I’ve got some time before the furry dope knows I’m here, so I think I’ll grab a quick nap. Wouldn’t want to be tired for the party I’ll throw when Sonic’s dead!”

Chuckling to himself, Robotnik put the S.T.D. on autopilot, set his Chronometer to wake him 20 minutes before he reached Sonic’s estimated position, propped his legs up on the control panel, and leaned back in the seat after making sure his seat belt was securely buckled (Safety first!). As more woodland creatures (R.O.A.D.K.I.L.L., he reminded himself) fled out of S.T.D.’s path of destruction, he yawned and chuckled again. “Be very, very quiet,” he murmured at the running creatures, his eyes slowly closing, “I’m hunting hedgehogs.” And with that, he drifted off to sleep and began to snore.

***

The Chronometer sounded and Robotnik woke dazedly. Bleary eyes looked around to find his machine tunneling underground, a sight that brought him completely awake. The machine shouldn’t be burrowing underground—Sonic’s last known position had been on the surface! Robotnik frowned and checked his position readings, growing more alarmed by the second. The measuring equipment was malfunctioning, the readings were scrambled, rendering the guidance systems effectively inoperative. He checked his weapon systems and breathed a sigh of relief to find that they were unharmed, then turned back to the navigation and steering portion of the console.

“Where in blazes am I and what happened to my machine?” he wondered out loud. Just then he got another surprise as the machine shot out of ground and into daylight.

“YAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGH!!!” Robotnik howled as his machine launched itself 20 feet into the air and landed with a crash (fortunately upright).

Blessing his forethought in buckling his safety belt, Robotnik quickly parked S.T.D. and killed the engine, taking the opportunity to examine his surroundings. Not that there was much to examine, it appeared he’d arrived in the middle of some giant desert. The hazy sky hid the sun’s position, but on a guess it was either morning or late afternoon, and Robotnik hoped for the former. It might take some time to figure out what had happened. Speaking of which, it was time to check the engine and computer manually. So thinking, he unbuckled the safety belt, popped the dome, and scrambled onto the top of the tank.

He slid down the ladder located just to the side of the tail and walked to the conveniently located maintenance hatch on the right side of the tank. He opened the hatch and took a moment to appreciate the neatly organized labels that told exactly which wires and circuit boards did what. Then he looked for the navigational/autopilot circuit bank and his jaw dropped in shock.

All the navigational equipment’s been cross-wired or is missing! How could that have happened?

Then Robotnik noticed a note taped to the inside of the maintenance hatch, and it gave him a sinking feeling in his belly as he pulled the note from the doorway. That feeling was confirmed as soon as he saw the scrawl on the paper.

“Dear Egghead:

How are ya, Baldy? I heard about your little rampage and got over there in a hurry to stop you, as usual, only to find you snoozing at the wheel! I’m a compassionate guy and you looked tired, so I decided to let you snore. Tails and I couldn’t let you keep tearing up the forest, though, so we thought we’d have some fun and send you somewhere else. All that navigational junk had to go, of course; we couldn’t make it too easy for you to get back! Then Tails rewired the Autopilot to take you on a random course, and Rad Red let us use the Emeralds to open a portal thingy. I’m sure exactly what we did and how we did it would be interesting to a loony space case like yourself, but Tails’ explanation was long and boring and almost put me to sleep, so I didn’t bother writing it down. Anyway, good luck finding your way back, you’ll need it, Tubby.

Sonic”

Robotnik’s face turned a fascinating shade of purple as he finished the note. His usual smile transformed into an expression of utter rage, his fist crumpled the letter.

“But how did he get past my security scanners?! My maintenance defense drones?!”

Then he noticed another short scrawl on the back.

“P.S. Your security systems are a joke.”

“SSSSOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCCCCCC!!!!!”

He would have said other, considerably more vulgar nouns and adjectives, but something interrupted his train of thought.

...You're here at last...

"NOW what?!"

...Find me...

"Find you?! I don't even know where I am."

...Come...

And for some reason Robotnik knew exactly which direction he needed to go in. Which made absolutely no sense, of course.

"It's not like the Navigational controls are fixable anyway," he muttered, throwing a disgusted glance at the maintenance hatch. "Maybe this person can tell me how to return to my native dimension."

Slamming the hatch closed he climbed back into S.T.D. and brought it rumbling to life. Making a sharp turn, he drove into the now setting sun, searching for answers and cursing certain R.O.A.D.K.I.L.L. he'd like to be running over right now.