Gotta Train ’Em All: Jungle Fury’s New Career!

The three Jungle Fury heroes step forward, refusing to abandon their values—even as betrayal, grotesque cruelty, and an impossible battle twist everything they thought they stood for. In a place reeking of grease, sweat, and madness, they face not monsters… but a hellish existence. They would soon find out that no team strength, no stance, no roll calls will save them or their friends.

Special thanks to my loyal and royal patron friends:

Aimi

Nikos

Oddone

Nate Piburn

Nicholas Athallah

Jakob Feurhuber

泽凯 张

vladimirpootis

Tribe

A

Bethany

kasa41

Violet Fentenstine

Tuck Lee

Matthew Thom

fumitsu

kasa41

俊介 星野

にとり 河城

Russell shuey

Bayu Pramana

clanna

park jong

Dominic Kohtz

George Hellerman

Flutterheart10480

brkfstinamerica

darkrai1986

시우 성

Nathaniel Grayson

's 쭌

John Barten

Eddie Hauck

Ken K

Ty smith

Robert Terwillger

snb

Daniel K

Mike020578

Slurped and applied for new job!

The Jungle Karma Pizza was now unrecognizable. Outside, neon signs with garish lettering shouted “KRUSHER KARMA PIZZA: SUPER RANGER SERVICE!” while inside, the smothering air of greasy, glowing food and garbled machinery filled every corner. The Rangers’ once-proud weapons sat encased in dirty, glowing globes hung in the kitchen, their faint pulsating energy siphoned constantly into the chaotic equipment.

Still in their skintight Ranger suits and helmets, Casey, Lily, and Theo staggered through their shifts, their bodies jerking with exhaustion and pain. Every movement seemed to carry the weight of their drained energy, and their tones trembled as they struggled to serve the endless crowd of demanding customers.

"Table seven wants extra cheese! MOVE IT, Red Tiger!" RJ’s bark echoed through the room, his words cold and commanding. Casey stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tried to balance a tray of glowing, grease-slick pizzas.

“Yes… yes, sir,” Casey stammered, his howl cracking as he forced himself upright. “I-I’ll get it there now…”

His tonfas, encased in one of the grimy globes, glowed faintly as they spun inside a dough-mixing machine. The unnatural hum of the equipment sent a sharp jolt of pain through Casey’s chest every few seconds, making him gasp. He clutched the tray tighter, his breaths loud and uneven inside his helmet.

“Faster!” Dominic snapped, standing by the counter with his arms crossed. His corrupted expression had a cruel edge, his gaze fixed on Casey as he struggled. “Is that the best you’ve got, Red? Don’t you think you owe your mistress better service than that?”

Casey flinched at the words, his fingers tightening on the tray as he shuffled toward the table. “Yes, I… I’ll be faster… I’ll do better… I promise…” His tone wavered between obedience and a faint, desperate desire to resist, though the defiance never fully reached the surface.

At another table, Lily hurriedly cleared a stack of dirty plates, her movements jerky and unsteady. Her Jungle Bo Staff sat inside a grimy dispenser at the edge of the kitchen, its energy siphoned into a glowing cheese grater. Every time it activated, a thick, unnatural layer of molten cheese poured onto a pizza, and Lily’s body jerked violently, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

“Hey! Where’s my drink?!” A customer’s demand cut through the din, making Lily flinch as she dropped the plates onto the tray. She turned sharply, her gloved hands shaking as she reached for a glass of glowing soda.

“I’m sorry—sorry, I’ll… I’ll get it,” she murmured, her howl trembling with every word. The glowing energy from the grater pulsed again, and she gasped, clutching her side as a sharp wave of pain radiated through her suit. “Just a second—I-I’m hurrying…”

Her steps faltered as she approached the table, the glass sloshing in her trembling hands. One of the Krusher men laughed from across the room, pointing at her. “Look at her! All that speed, and she can’t even keep her hands steady. Guess bein’ a Cheetah don’t mean much now, huh?”

Lily’s visor tilted downward as her breathing quickened. “No… I… I’m still fast… I… I can…” Her voice cracked, the words caught somewhere between a whimper and a plea, as if she were trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

Meanwhile, Theo was trapped behind the counter, his gloved hands gripping the edge tightly as the sprayer connected to his Jungle Fans hissed and sputtered. The glowing mist it emitted gave the pizzas an unnatural shine, and every burst of energy made Theo flinch, his body jerking with involuntary spasms.

"Another pizza's done, Blue Jaguar! Get it out there!" RJ’s order snapped Theo out of his pained daze. He grabbed the tray with shaking hands, his helmeted head tilting slightly as he tried to block out the pounding in his skull.

“Yes… yes, sir,” Theo whispered, his howl trembling. He turned toward the dining area, his steps sluggish. “Table nine… table nine… I have to… I have to get it there…”

But as he moved, another wave of energy drained from his fans, and Theo let out a strangled gasp, nearly dropping the tray. "It hurts—it’s too much—I—" He cut himself off, forcing his tone into an obedient murmur. “I’ll… get it there… I’ll serve… that’s what I do…”

The Krusher woman, lounging in a corner booth with a greasy slice of glowing pizza in hand, let out a shrill laugh. “Ain’t they just perfect? Look at ’em—all shiny and helpful. Y’all really are made for this, huh? Betcha can’t even remember why ya thought you were Rangers in the first place.”

Holding a tray down with trembling hands, Casey froze at her words. His visor tilted upward slightly, as if trying to meet her gaze. “No… we’re not… we’re heroes…” His soul faltered, the faintest trace of defiance buried under layers of exhaustion and pain. “We’re not just… just waiters…”

Dominic, standing by the kitchen, snorted. “Heroes? Look around, Red Tiger. This is what you’ve always been good at. Serving. Obeying. It’s who you are.” He stepped forward, tapping Casey’s helmet with a sharp motion. “Now get back to work before you forget your place again.”

Casey stumbled, his hands gripping the table for support. His breathing was shallow, his words tumbling out in jumbled fragments. “I’m… I’m supposed to… to save people… not this… I have to remember…”

Across the room, Lily clutched a stack of plates, her expression breaking as she muttered to herself. “I’m fast… I can run… I can fight… I’m not… not just this… I’m not…” Her movements grew erratic, plates slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor.

“Pick it up, Yellow!” RJ barked, slamming his fist on the counter. “You don’t get to slack off just because you’re tired. MOVE!”

Theo, barely able to stand, leaned against the counter, his tone barely audible as he whispered, “This isn’t right… I know this isn’t right… but I can’t… I can’t remember…”

The Krusher woman laughed again, taking another bite of her pizza. “Oh, you poor things. Still thinkin’ you’re somethin’ special. Let me tell ya somethin’—y’all ain’t Rangers no more. You’re workers. And from where I’m sittin’, you’re doin’ a damn fine job.”

Her words hung in the air, cruelly mocking everything the Rangers once stood for. The trio continued their shifts, their words trembling with confusion and pain as they struggled to serve the endless stream of customers. With every tray carried, every order taken, and every moment of energy siphoned from their weapons, their resolve faded further.

And as the Krushers lounged in their booth, watching their broken employees with gleeful satisfaction, it became clear that spark wouldn’t last much longer.

The air was suffocating with greasy heat from the kitchen and the hum of the cursed machinery, draining the Rangers' strength with every passing moment. The once-proud heroes—the Jungle Fury trio—moved robotically between tables, their skintight suits and helmets marking them as unwilling mascots of this grotesque operation. Each step was labored, each task a battle against their failing energy and the constant, barking orders of their corrupted teammates.

“Red Tiger! You’ve got five plates sitting on the counter!” RJ’s sharp tone cut through the air, making Casey flinch as he turned toward the kitchen. “You think those pizzas are gonna deliver themselves? MOVE IT!”

“I… I’m going…” Casey stammered, howling inside his helmet. His hands shook as he grabbed the trays, the glowing pizzas sizzling ominously. His tonfas, encased in one of the grimy globes in the kitchen, pulsed faintly, their energy siphoned to power a dough-mixing machine that churned endlessly behind him. Each spin of the machine sent a jolt of pain through his chest, making him stumble as he tried to carry the trays to table four.

“Hurry up!” Dominic barked from across the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His corrupted helmet glinted under the lights as he sneered. “You’re supposed to be the leader, right? Prove it, Red Tiger! Unless… this is all you’re good for.”

Casey’s visor tilted downward, his mind jumbled as he mumbled, “I… I’m doing my best… I’ll get there…”

“Best isn’t good enough,” Dominic snapped. “You’re already behind. Keep this up, and we’ll be adding another shift to your punch card. Is that what you want?”

Casey’s hands trembled as he hurried toward the table, nearly tripping over his own feet. “No… no, sir… I’ll do better…”

The customers at table four barely glanced up as he set the trays down, their tones dripping with irritation. “Finally,” one of them muttered, grabbing a glowing slice. “Took you long enough. What’s the point of all that fancy armor if you can’t even serve a pizza on time?”

“I’m sorry…” Casey whispered, his courage long gone. “I’ll… I’ll be faster next time…”

Nearby, Lily staggered under the weight of a tray loaded with drinks. Her Jungle Bo Staff, encased in another dirty globe near the cheese grater, pulsed faintly, its energy siphoned to create an unnaturally thick, glowing layer of cheese on every pizza. Each time the grater activated, a sharp jolt of pain shot through her legs, making her stumble.

“Yellow Cheetah!” RJ’s expression snapped from the counter, making her freeze mid-step. “Table eight’s drinks are late! What’s taking so long?”

“I-I’m going…” Lily stammered, her tone trembling. Her hands shook as she tried to steady the tray, the glasses clinking together noisily. “I’m sorry, I’m… I’m going as fast as I can…”

“Not fast enough,” RJ growled. “You’re supposed to be the fastest. Prove it, or your shift’s getting extended.”

Lily whimpered softly, forcing her legs to move despite the throbbing pain in her body. “Yes… I’ll… I’ll prove it… I’ll be faster…” she murmured, the words coming out like a mantra, as if saying them enough times would make them true.

She reached table eight and set the drinks down shakily, but one glass tipped over, spilling onto the table. The customer—a burly man with a sneer—snapped, “Seriously? You can’t even deliver a drink without messing it up? What’s wrong with you?”

“I… I’m sorry…” Lily stammered, her hands fumbling to clean up the mess. “I didn’t mean to… I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it…”

Theo, stationed at the counter, flinched every time the sprayer connected to his Jungle Fans activated. The glowing mist that covered the pizzas sent sharp, stabbing pains through his chest and arms, making his hands shake as he tried to prepare the next tray. His visor tilted downward, howling as he muttered to himself. “I can’t… I can’t keep up… I have to… but I can’t…”

“Blue Jaguar!” Dominic barked, his expression echoing through the room. “That order’s been sitting there for five minutes! Get it out NOW!”

Theo grabbed the tray with shaking hands, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “I’m sorry… I’m trying… I’ll get it there…”

Dominic stepped closer, his tone low and menacing. “Trying isn’t good enough, Theo. If you don’t pick up the pace, you’re staying here all night. Is that what you want?”

Theo froze momentarily, his hands trembling as he whispered, “No… no, sir… I’ll go faster…”

“Then MOVE,” Dominic snapped, shoving Theo forward.

The Krusher woman, lounging in her corner booth, let out a shrill laugh as she watched the scene unfold. “Ain’t this just precious?” she drawled, her greasy fingers clutching a slice of glowing pizza. “Look at ’em—workin’ their little hearts out, just like they were made for it.”

“They’ll learn,” Big Daddy Krusher added, chomping on a slice. “If they don’t, well… that punch card’s got plenty of room left. Maybe we’ll make their shifts permanent.”

The Rangers froze at his words, their breaths hitching as the weight of the threat sank in. Casey clutched the table's edge, his delivery barely audible as he whispered, “No… no, I can’t… I can’t stay here forever…”

Lily, wiping down a table nearby, muttered to herself, her tone trembling. “I have to… I have to keep up… I can’t let them… I can’t let them extend my shift…”

Theo, leaning heavily against the counter, whispered, “I’ll do better… I’ll go faster… I’ll be better…”

RJ and Dominic exchanged glances, their corrupted visors gleaming as they turned back to their broken teammates. “You’ll get there,” RJ said coldly. “You’ll learn your place eventually.”

Dominic smirked, leaning against the wall. “They’re already getting the hang of it. Aren’t you, Rangers? Or should I say… waiters?”

The trio said boondoggle, their tones lost in the endless hum of the kitchen and the constant demands of the Krushers. Each step, each task, each jolt of pain from their drained weapons pushed them closer to the edge. And as the Krushers lounged in their booth, laughing and jeering, the Rangers could only whisper broken promises to themselves, hoping—praying—that they could hold on just a little longer.

***

The rancid smell of spilled beer, glowing grease, and burning dough filled the air. Every movement they made was weighed down by exhaustion, pain, and the constant siphoning of energy from their weapons, now twisted into grotesque kitchen appliances.

The obese, drunken friends of the Krushers crowded the corner booths, their slurred words loud and mocking as they banged greasy fists on the tables. They were predators, and Casey, Lily, and Theo were their prey—paraded as waitstaff, mascots, and entertainers in their skintight suits and helmets, utterly humiliated and powerless.

“Hey, Yellow Cheetah!” one of the drunken men bellowed, his demand rasping as he leaned forward, his gut pressing against the edge of the table. “Get your shiny ass over here and dance for us!” He slapped the table hard, making the beer glasses clink together.

Lily flinched, her tray trembling in her hands as she turned toward the noise. Her knees wobbled as she tried to steady herself, but another sharp jolt of energy ripped through her body as the cursed cheese grater in the kitchen, powered by her Jungle Bo Staff, activated again. She let out a choked gasp, clutching her side, the pain leaving her momentarily paralyzed.

RJ’s cold, commanding tone cut through the din. “Yellow! You heard him. Get moving. Or do you want your punch card maxed out?” His corrupted visor glinted menacingly from across the room.

Lily’s breath hitched, her gloved hands tightening on the tray as she forced her legs to move. “Yes… I’m going…” she murmured, her delivery barely audible as she approached the booth. Her heart raced with dread as the group of men grinned, their eyes gleaming with malice.

“About time,” one of them sneered, his greasy fingers motioning for her to come closer. “Let’s see some moves, kitty. Show us that cheetah speed we keep hearing about.”

Lily hesitated, her helmet tilting slightly as her breathing quickened. Another jolt of energy drained from her suit, and she stumbled, nearly dropping the tray. “I—” she started, but her expression was cut off as one of the men grabbed her arm, yanking her forward.

“Did I say you could stand there?” he snapped, his breath hot against her visor. “Move those hips, kitty. Or are you too tired already?” His friends erupted into laughter, banging their fists on the table as Lily struggled to stay upright.

Across the room, Casey carried a tray of glowing pizzas toward another table, his legs barely supporting him as pain radiated through his chest. The dough-mixing machine in the kitchen hummed ominously, the energy from his Jungle Tonfas fueling its relentless churn. Each spin sent a sharp pang through his torso, making his steps falter.

“Red Tiger! Table twelve is still waiting!” Dominic’s sharp, mocking tone echoed from the corner. He leaned against the counter, his corrupted form towering over the room. “You think you’re doing us a favor by dragging your feet? Get it together!”

“I’m trying…” Casey muttered, howling as he reached the table. His hands shook as he set the tray down, the glowing pizzas sizzling faintly. One of the customers sneered, pushing his plate forward.

“This crust is burnt,” he growled. “Is this what passes for super service? Fix it. Now.”

Casey froze, his hands hovering over the plate. “I… I’ll fix it,” he murmured, his tone weak and unsteady. He reached for the plate, but the customer squeezed his wrist tightly.

“You’re lucky you’ve got that helmet on, or I’d slap some sense into you,” the man snarled. “Now MOVE.”

Dominic’s laughter rang out from across the room. “You better listen, Red. These people are paying customers. Or do you want Big Daddy to dock your hours?”

Casey staggered back, his visor tilted downward as he whispered, “I’ll fix it… I’ll get it right…”

Standing at the counter, Theo winced as the sprayer connected to his Jungle Fans hissed again, releasing another burst of glowing mist onto a pizza. The sharp pain coursing through his chest made him lean heavily against the counter, his gloved hands gripping the edge as his breaths came in ragged gasps.

“Blue Jaguar!” RJ barked, his voice sharp and merciless. “What are you doing standing there? Table fifteen is waiting for their drinks!”

Theo grabbed the tray with trembling hands, his body jerking as he tried to steady himself. “I’m… I’m going,” he muttered, his delivery breaking as he stumbled forward.

“You’d better,” Dominic added, stepping closer. “Because if you don’t, you know what happens next.”

The words made Theo’s heart race, his steps faltering as he reached the table. The drunken women at the booth grinned as he set the tray down, one of them grabbing his wrist before he could pull away.

“Where do you think you’re going, Jaguar?” she sneered, her fingers sliding over the smooth surface of his suit. “You’ve got some nerve ignoring us. Maybe you should stick around and give us some personal service.”

Theo flinched, his body trembling as the woman pulled him closer. Her friends laughed, their greasy fingers reaching out to tap his helmet. “Don’t be shy, kitty cat,” one of them said mockingly. “Show us what that armor can do.”

Nearby, Lily was pulled into the booth by one of the drunken men, her body jerking as his hands gripped her arms tightly. “You don’t look so fast now,” he sneered, his breath fogging up her visor. “Maybe we’ll teach you how to really earn those tips.”

The Krusher woman, lounging in her booth, let out a shrill laugh as she watched. “Ain’t they just precious? Workin’ so hard for us, keepin’ the customers happy. Y’all should be proud of yourselves!”

Another pulse of energy drained from the kitchen machinery, and all three Rangers gasped sharply, their bodies arching involuntarily as the pain coursed through them. Casey collapsed to his knees, his gloved hands clutching his chest as tears welled in his eyes behind his visor. “It hurts…” he whispered, his tone trembling.

Lily whimpered softly, her legs giving out as she fell into the lap of one of the drunken men. “Please…” she whispered, barely able to get the word out before another wave of pain wracked her body.

Theo leaned heavily against the table, his hands shaking as he whispered, “I… I…”

The Krushers roared with laughter, their words ringing through the air like a cruel symphony. “Look at ’em,” Big Daddy Krusher drawled, slapping his knee. “Ain’t nothin’ better than watchin’ heroes learn their place.”

And as the Rangers continued to stagger, broken and humiliated, they couldn’t understand why they kept obeying, why they feared the threats of lawsuits and docked hours so much. But deep down, the truth was clear.

Casey’s visor snapped toward Lily as she stumbled, pulled down into the lap of one of the Krushers’ grotesque, drunken friends. The man’s fat, greasy hand gripped her arm, his breath fogging up her helmet as he laughed loudly. “Oh, you’re real soft under all that spandex, huh?” he sneered, his expression slurred. “You don’t seem so fast now, Yellow Cheetah. Maybe we’ll slow you down some more.”

Lily’s muffled expression trembled, barely audible under the man’s laughter. “Let go… please…” Her hands twitched, weakly trying to push him away, but her strength was long gone. Her legs refused to obey her commands as another wave of energy drained from the cheese grater powered by her Jungle Bo Staff. The glow of the machine pulsed ominously from the kitchen, its hum echoing like a death knell.

Casey dropped the tray he was holding, the glowing pizzas clattering to the floor as he rushed toward her. “Get away from her!” he shouted, his tone cracking with rage and desperation. His legs burned with every step, his drained body barely responding, but he pushed forward, fists clenched. “Let her go!”

Dominic intercepted him in a blur, his Jungle Mace slamming into Casey’s chest with brutal force. The Red Ranger hit the ground hard, his visor smacking the tile floor with a sharp crack. “You don’t get to make demands,” Dominic growled, his tone cold and venomous. “Not here. Never.”

Casey groaned, struggling to push himself up, but Dominic’s boot pressed against his back, pinning him to the floor. “Stay down, Red Tiger. You’ll only make things worse for everyone. Or maybe you want to see just how bad it can get.”

The Krusher woman laughed from her booth, her greasy orb glowing faintly in her hand. “Oh, sugar, don’t be so dramatic. We can always make things worse.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, glowing card, holding it up for Casey to see. “Recognize this, darlin’? It’s your punch card. And you’re just a few ticks away from maxing it out.”

Casey froze, his body trembling as he stared at the card through his cracked visor. “No… no, you can’t…” he whispered, his delivery shaking. “I’ll… I’ll do better. I’ll—”

“Oh, I know you’ll do better,” the Krusher woman interrupted, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. She tilted her head, her smile widening. “But I’m not so sure about your friends. Maybe they need a little… motivation.”

She held up two more cards, one glowing yellow, the other blue. “See these? These belong to your little pals. And if you don’t settle down, I’ll max all of ’em out. How’s that sound, sweetie?”

Casey’s heart dropped as the weight of her threat crushed him. His hands dug into the tile floor as his expression cracked. “No… don’t… don’t do that. Please. They don’t deserve this.”

Lily, still trapped in the drunk man’s lap, turned her head slightly, her visor reflecting the glow of her punch card. Her tone trembled, a mix of anger and despair. “Casey… stop… don’t… don’t make it worse…”

“Just stay out of it,” Theo barked from the counter, his own expression raw with fear and frustration. He clutched the counter's edge, his body trembling as his Jungle Fans siphoned more energy into the sprayer. “You’re only going to get us hurt more. Just do your job!”

Casey looked between them, his chest heaving as tears blurred his vision. “But she’s in danger! She needs—”

“She’s fine!” Dominic snapped, pressing his boot harder into Casey’s back. “She’s got a job to do, just like you. You don’t get to play the hero from now on.”

The Krusher woman chuckled, her fingers tapping the punch card rhythmically. “That’s right, sugar. You’re not here to save anyone. You’re here to serve. So how about you get back to work before I decide to max these out anyway?”

Casey’s body sagged under Dominic’s boot, his fists clenching as anger and despair warred within him. His delivery trembled, barely above a whisper. “I’m… sorry…”

Lily’s tone broke as she tried to steady herself, her gloved hands trembling as she reached for the table to pull herself up. “Just… just do what they say, Casey… please…”

Dominic stepped back, allowing Casey to stagger to his feet. The Red Ranger’s legs shook as he turned back toward the kitchen, his voice hollow. “I… I’ll get back to work…”

The Krusher woman grinned, tucking the punch cards back into her pocket. “Good boy. Now hurry up. Those tables aren’t gonna serve themselves.”

Casey shuffled toward the counter, his body trembling with every step. Lily forced herself to stand, her hands clutching a tray as she stumbled toward another table. Theo turned back to the kitchen, his movements jerky and mechanical as the sprayer hissed again, draining more of his energy.