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Alvin tipped the microphone down closer to his mouth. He sang out the words loud and clear, and so did his brothers. Even though they weren't happy, they tried their best to hide their misery. Ian Hawke, the evil record producer that made them his slaves a couple years ago, had regained his three talented chipmunks and were making them record seventeen new songs. When they finished their eighth song, the boys sighed with relief as Ian yelled, "Break!". The chipmunks stepped off the platform and headed to the kitchen to get some snacks. As Theodore unscrewed the cap to a bottle of Dr. Pepper, Simon pulled out three large glasses from the cabinet, and Alvin poured the fizzy soda in as evenly as he could. The tired chipmunk was too exhausted to focus anymore, so he fell off the counter and landed on the tile floor with a smack. The Dr. Pepper spilled everywhere, and a little amount was even in the cups. Simon yawned as he wiped up the sticky soda with a dishtowel, and Theodore tried hard to open a bag of cheeseballs instead. But even they were too sleepy----they ended up joining their poor brother on the floor. About two seconds later, ZING! All three chipmunks were wide awake as a waterfall of cheeseballs washed over them, getting cheesy dust everywhere and in their fur. "Haha, awesome, I knew one day my own work would be forgiven," Alvin grinned as he scooped up a huge amount of cheeseballs in his hands. "Ohhh, okay! Then maybe my work will repay me, too!" Theodore stated, climbing up on the counter again. Simon polished off his glasses and gasped as Theodore attempted to push over the entire 2-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper. "NOOO, Theodore, nooo!!!" Simon screamed, but it was too late. Ian's once beautiful kitchen had become a sticky, cheesy mess in a matter of minutes....twice.

Two hours later the Chipmunks found themselves not singing, but in their beds, where they should've been sleeping. But it was too hard to sleep, knowing the promise Dave had made yesterday. "The promise," Alvin whispered into the night. "Dave should've never handed us over to greedy old Ian. He was---and still is---my worst NIGHTMARE!" True, Dave had agreed to let Ian have the Chipmunks for a full week, so Ian could get his mansion back. BIG LIE. Ian still had his mansion, his life, his awards...poor Dave didn't know that. And neither did the Chipmunks, at first. But ever since they arrived at Ian's mansion earlier that morning, the truth had dawned on them. They'd never escape Ian's harsh routines...Alvin sat straight up in his bed. ...Unless they ran away! He tapped Theodore rapidly. "Woah! Cheeseballs! Waffles!" Theodore said, startled. "No, Theo. We can get outta here! Away from the devil forever...if we leave tonight! Tell Simon!" Alvin hissed. "Uhhmmff....okay," Theodore replied sleepily. "Hey Si....." Theodore began, but he fell out of his bed. Alvin fumed angrily. "SIIIIIIIMON!" he hollered loudly. Simon jolted awake. "Hey, Alvin, I've got news for you," he answered. Alvin looked hopeful. "SHUT UP!" Then Alvin looked hurt. He decided to tell Simon quick. "Si, we can get outta here now if you follow me," Alvin nodded. Simon yawned. "I will surely, surely think about that," he muttered. "But Simon, I---" Alvin started. But it was too late.

Everything turned black.

"S-Simon, I'm scared!" Theodore whimpered as he pulled the covers up over his furry face. But even Simon was too frightened to answer. "Simon?" Theodore asked worriedly. He climbed out of his bed and scurried up to Simon's. "Oh, my, MMF!" he started, but Alvin placed his hand on his mouth to keep him quiet. Alvin glared at his little brother and turned to Simon. "Si, yo, I heard that Jeanette was looking for ya," he lied. Both chipmunks stared in awe as they figured out that Simon's bed was empty. And then, a scream came from downstairs. "AHHHHH!!!" Alvin gasped and looked at Theodore. Then, two wild eyed fierce figures leaped out at them from the darkness.

"HOLY HECK!"
"ALLLVVVVIIIINNNN!!!"


It was breakfast at Dave's house. The three Chipettes, Brittany, Jeanette, and Eleanor, were playing around with their waffles. "Is something wrong, girls?" Dave asked, truly concerned. He topped off Eleanor's waffle with a huge mound of whipped cream and strawberries. "This is just how Theodore used to make them," she sniffled. Dave sighed contentedly. At least they were just worrying about the Chipmunks and nothing serious. "Look, Ellie, Britt, Jen, the fellas are....with Ian," he assured them. They all gasped, and Brittany was the first to get angry. She hopped up on the table and shoved her plate of waffles at Eleanor, who stared at her curiously and then began to help herself. Glaring at Dave, Brittany began her usual rant. "You mean that you handed my one and only boyfriend over to that horrible monster Ian Hawke?!?!" she yelled. "Who knows how he's torturing him---no food, no rest, no...no NOTHING!" Dave looked surprised. And Eleanor seemed truly upset now. "Y-you mean? No waffles there? No beauty sleep? No fun? Ohh, poor Theodore!" she cried. Jeanette sighed. "Brittany, aren't you ever worried about anyone but your sweet Alvie?" she complained. Brittany seemed confused, then angry. "Why Jeanette, are you saying that I don't appreciate my own sisters? And Alvin's brothers? I heard that Simon wanted to leave you," Brittany taunted back. Then Eleanor got fired up. "Brittany Seville! Don't you dare talk about Jeanette's boyfriend! And don't ever tease Theo, either!" she raged. Brittany narrowed her eyes menacingly at her younger sister. "Make me!" she fussed. Eleanor's eyes looked as if they were filled with flickering flames. "Alright, you mess with the chipmunk, you get the teeth, SISTA!" she threatened. Everything was a blurry mess of blonde and tan fur as Eleanor and Brittany fought again and again. Jeanette nearly cried when the fight was centering in on her. "Oh, uh, um, I'm not very good at defending myself," she whined. But soon she joined in, and the Chipettes were fighting even more than the Chipmunks did. Dave did a facepalm and winced as Brittany's plate of waffles went flying right in his...face. "I give up," he groaned as he walked away. Usually letting the girls fight it out worked better than having to take a trip to the hospital with chipmunk bites and scratches on himself.

Meanwhile, back at Ian's mansion, the Chipmunks were nowhere to be found. And Ian was moping over his total loss after he figured out what possibly happened. "I knew it. I really knew it," he moaned. "I knew those rascally furry rats would eventually get away! And after all the success they gave me in the past years," he continued, glancing at the odds and ends of his mansion. "That plasma screen TV was the biggest size that Walmart had----over four thousand bucks for it. And it costs just eight hundred fifty to hire the maids to clean up. Yeah, Alvin and his brothers were living the life back then, but dumb old Dave just had to save them from it. It's a good thing I bought this GPS and implanted those microchips in the boys' sweaters," he grinned excitedly. "Now they'll never get away," Ian hissed as he finished drinking his coffee. "Ladies!" he called out. Fourteen maids appeared front and center in his living room. "I want you to be on the lookout for Alvin, Simon, and Theodore. If you see them, give them....cheeseballs, waffles, and coffee to lure them in," he ordered. The maids went back to work as Ian hurried outside to track the Chipmunks down once and for all.

The Chipmunks were running outside in the woods behind Ian's house. "Theodore, for me this is like a day-long guilt trip," Simon complained. "Oh, Simon, it's not that bad," Theodore replied. "Is, too," Alvin muttered. "Oh, shut up, Alvin," Theodore taunted back. "Everything'll be better once we get away from---" he began, but something made them all stop dead in their tracks. "Ian?!" Theodore finished. Standing in front of him was who else but Ian Hawke, ready to grab his Chipmunks. "You thought you could escape?" he mused. "Well, prepare to work even harder!" Ian lunged forward and gripped Simon's tail, snatching him up quickly. Laughing, Ian carried the poor chipmunk up the wooded trail back to his mansion. "Haha! You'll never escape, you dirty rat!" he grinned. "Oh yeah?" Simon growled. He bit down hard on Ian's hand and leaped away into the safety of the woods. "Try that on for size, Hawke!" The victorious chipmunk yelled. "OH MY GOD!" Ian wailed, holding his bleeding left hand. Simon rejoined his worried brothers and the three sang out in a chorus of cheers. "That's the way to go, Simon!" Alvin shouted. "Awesome! High five, Si!" Theodore chimed. But he paused immediately. Something was wrong. Really wrong. "Simon, what happened to your...eyes?" he asked. Simon blinked. "What are you talking about, Theo? I am NOT different!" he hollered. Theodore and Alvin's fur stood on end. Then Alvin joked, "Yo, maybe he snuck out to the eye doctor and got them dilated?" Simon whirled around and punched Alvin directly in the face. Theodore gasped. "Si, why'd you hurt Alvin??? Your eyes look different is all! It's like their...reddish tinted?" he laughed nervously. Simon then glared at Theodore. "Oh, shut up, Erodoeht! Do you not know anything?" He then stormed off down the trail, leaving Theodore scared and confused and Alvin lying on the cold ground. "I...heard...what...he said," Alvin whimpered, picking himself up. "I know," Theodore said back. "It's like Simon's changed." Alvin managed to strike a half epic, half freaked out grin. "Erodoeht? What kinda name is that?" he laughed. Theodore crossed his arms and looked away. "Something that really scares me. I wanna find Simon!" he sobbed. Alvin patted his brother's shoulder. "Yo, Theo, we'll catch up to him. He's just crazy," he reassured him. Alvin could see Ian making his way home to his mansion. "O..kay," Theodore sniffled. He looked into Alvin's pure, red eyes and---wait a second. "Your eyes!" Theodore shouted. Alvin retreated. "Huh?" he answered. "Your eyes are red, like Simon's," Theodore pointed out. Alvin grinned. "Okay, quit teasing, Theo..." he winced. "Wait, your eyes are red, too..." Alvin paused. They gazed in each others' eyes, and sure enough, both pairs were red. Theodore sighed. "Really?" Alvin grinned back. "Really, Erodoeht. And it's just beginning," he hissed as an a evil grin formed on his face. "Wait, you ARE gonna spare me, right?" Theodore mumbled as Alvin closed in on him. It wasn't long before Alvin finally cracked a full blown wicked smile. "I hope you knew that I was just joking!" he coughed. Theodore took a moment to let that sink in, and he was furious. "ALVIN! You always fool me, but today I shall have my full revenge!" he chorused as he pounced on Alvin, and the two engaged in a battle that lasted a while before Ian approached them and broke it up. "Fellas, hey, I apologize, and Simon's in the bedroom," he insisted. The play fight ended with a wave of laughter and hard, paced breaths. "Really? We'll check on him now," Theodore panted as he edged near his exhausted brother. "C'mon Alvin, let's----" he began, but suddenly a strange feeling surged through him. His eyes seemed to be burning, and the image of everything became blurry. Theodore quickly clambered up a pine tree and started leaping through the forest, one tree at a time, until he stopped to rest on a flimsy branch. "Come, on, now," he urged. Alvin looked up to see Ian's amused face staring back. "Is he always like that?" Ian whispered. Alvin put his hands in his pockets and simply shrugged. "I guess, but I gotta catch up, so later," he hurried. Alvin tried running up the trail towards the mansion, but something urged him to swing through the trees. Instantly his legs began sidling up to the nearest tree. "No, no, you used to be a regular chipmunk, but you're a superstar now, no scrambling through trees," Alvin told himself. But he did it anyway, and found himself joining Theodore four minutes later in their bedroom. Theodore was glancing at Simon nervously. "A-Alvin, I think he's lost it," he squeaked. Alvin almost had to force himself to walk over. But when he saw what was wrong, he felt the worst possible sensation rushing through him.

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