Switching Places
by Shadow RangerDisclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction and for entertainment purposes only.
Switching Places
Angel Grove was quiet under the soft glow of midnight. Streetlights buzzed, owls hooted from the woods beyond town, and all was calm—except for the strange shape clambering through the window of Billy Cranston's garage.
Squatt.
He landed with a soft oof, knocking over a stack of newspapers. His tiny, gnarled fingers snapped to his sides as he glanced around in the dark. The lab was filled with glowing gadgets, half-built machines, and notes scribbled on chalkboards and paper.
Squatt crept toward the centre table, where a sleek device pulsed faintly blue in the gloom. He didn't understand the tech, not really. But he'd seen Billy fiddling with it earlier—pouring over readings, scanning morph energy, even muttering numbers in his sleep.
"Kid's been poking the Morphin Grid," Squatt whispered in a sing-song voice. "Shouldn't be doing thaaat…"
He giggled nervously, then frowned. That wasn't really funny.
The idea had come to him earlier in the day. If Billy got hurt—or even just knocked out with a surprise malfunction—maybe the Rangers would be too busy scrambling to cover for him to deal with Rita's next big plan. And if that happened... maybe Rita would notice him for once. Not just as a background henchthing, but as someone useful. Reliable. Loyal.
A little part of him knew she treated him badly. The screaming, the blame, the way she sometimes acted like he was more pet than person. But she'd raised him—took him in from the gutter-worlds after the other monsters passed him by. And yeah, maybe she cared a bit. Maybe.
Not that she'd ever say it. And he knew better than to bring it up.
He rubbed his hands together and squinted at the power supply tucked under the prototype's housing. Tiny containment cores buzzed with residual Morphin Energy.
"Billy, Billy, Billy," he hummed, unscrewing a panel with a pocket wrench. "What have you been building?"
With a snort, he clipped a wire, twisted a valve just the wrong way, and jammed a second connection in backwards.
"There," he said, brushing his hands. "Should make a nice little pop next time you fire it up. Nothing lethal. Just... inconvenient."
He shuffled back toward the window, looking once more at the softly glowing console.
Then he was gone.
Billy's garage was a storm of wires, circuit boards, and solder smoke. A row of schematics lined the wall, all covered in equations and arrows and a big header in permanent marker: MIND EXCHANGE PROTOTYPE V3.
Kimberly stood with her arms crossed, staring at the humming device on the workbench.
"So let me get this straight," she said. "You built a machine that swaps people's minds?"
"Correct," Billy said, tightening the last bolt. "It's a two-person cognitive transference unit. The aim is mutual empathy through neural mapping."
Kimberly blinked. "And you want me to test it with you?"
"You are the most physically coordinated person I know. It could help me better understand the mechanics of gymnastics from a neural perspective."
Kimberly couldn't tell if that was a compliment or a weird insult. But she shrugged. "Alright, Brain Boy. Let's do it."
Billy grinned, clearly relieved. "Place your hand here."
She did. He followed suit. The machine pulsed blue. There was a flash. Then dizziness. A weird floating feeling. Kimberly blinked—and found herself staring at... herself?
"Whoa," she muttered.
"Oh no," said Billy, in Kimberly's voice. "Oh no."
They had switched places.
High above Earth, Rita Repulsa let out a wheezing cackle that echoed across the walls of the Moon Palace.
"They've done what?!" she laughed. "Oh, that's too good! They've scrambled their own brains!"
Goldar stormed into the chamber, fists clenched.
"My queen," he boomed, "send me down now. I'll finish them while they're vulnerable. I'll bring you their helmets as trophies!"
"Patience," Rita snapped. "First we make this worse."
In the corner, Finster looked up from his workbench, adjusting the goggles perched on his snout. His sculpting tools were coated in clay dust, and before him stood a fresh monster—his latest creation.
"I've already begun," he said softly, almost to himself. "I call him Genie. Ancient magic. Real power. None of that flashy nonsense from before."
He stepped back to admire the sculpture. His eyes glowed faintly.
"Elegant, efficient, and absolutely mine. Once he's finished, they won't know what hit them."
Goldar stomped closer. "Then send me with it! Let me lead the charge!"
Rita raised her wand and grinned. "Fine. But don't mess it up."
Back on Earth, Kimberly and Billy—still in the wrong bodies—were having a day.
At the Youth Center, Billy (in Kimberly's body) failed spectacularly at a gymnastics routine, crashing into a pommel horse and knocking over a table. Skull filmed the whole thing while Bulk laughed himself breathless.
Meanwhile, Kimberly (in Billy's body) was in class trying to take a math quiz. She stared at the paper, her expression frozen.
"I don't even know what these symbols mean," she whispered.
By lunch, both of them were exhausted and flustered. And the worst was yet to come as both realised they needed the restroom.
"Okay, you win," Kimberly hissed as they huddled near the lockers. "You can have your brain back. I miss having upper body strength and not being terrified of tests."
Billy adjusted her hair awkwardly. "It is rather disorienting. But perhaps this experience can yield important data on mental adaptability—"
"No," she said flatly. "Just fix it."
Before they could sneak back to the lab, their communicators beeped.
"Rangers," came Zordon's voice, "Rita has sent down a powerful creature. A Genie born of ancient clay. He is attacking downtown Angel Grove. You must respond immediately."
Billy and Kimberly looked at each other.
"This is going to be weird," Billy said. "It's Morphin Time!"
Jason, Zack, and Trini met them on the battlefield. The Genie stood twelve feet tall, wrapped in blue smoke and gold-plated armour, eyes glowing with otherworldly fire. His voice boomed with magical force.
"You shall have three wishes," he said, "and none of them will save you!"
The battle was chaos. Billy and Kimberly, disoriented in each other's bodies, kept stumbling over each other's instincts. Billy couldn't land Kimberly's flips. Kimberly couldn't handle the weight of Billy's lance. The Genie exploited every mistake.
"Something's seriously off with you two," Jason shouted, slamming his sword against the Genie's gauntlet.
"We switched," Kimberly yelled back. "It's a long story!"
"Switch back after we survive this!"
The Genie raised his arms and summoned a storm of glowing chains. One wrapped around Zack, another around Trini. Jason broke free, barely, but he was fading fast.
Alpha teleported the struggling pair back to the Command Center mid-fight. Sparks flew as they landed beside Zordon's tube.
"We need to reverse the polarity on the machine," Billy said, clutching Kimberly's arm. "Manually. With two people. Or we could be stuck forever."
They powered the device back on. Kimberly and Billy placed their hands on it one more time. A flash. A surge of light.
Then a scream—two screams, overlapping. And silence.
When the light faded, Kimberly blinked—and found herself looking at Billy again.
He looked down at his own hands and gave a breath of relief.
"Back to normal," he said.
They barely had time to celebrate before Alpha cried out.
"The others are losing ground! Hurry!"
They morphed and rejoined the fight. Billy slashed through the chains holding Zack, and Kimberly soared above, landing a perfect arrow in the Genie's chest. Jason gave the final command.
"Power Blaster—now!"
The Genie exploded in a blaze of fire and gold dust.
Later, at the Youth Center, Kimberly sat with her head on the table.
"I don't want to ever be inside someone else's brain again," she groaned.
Billy pushed his glasses up. "But don't you feel you gained valuable insight into my daily life?"
"Only if 'insight' means 'constant math headaches'," she said.
Jason clapped them both on the shoulders. "You two did great. Weird, but great."
Goldar, meanwhile, stood in silence before Rita's throne.
"You said you'd bring me victory," she growled.
Goldar knelt, fists clenched. "Next time, my queen. Next time."
Rita turned away, scowling. She was growing tired of losing. Perhaps it was time to try something different and destroy the Rangers with one of their own.
End. The story continues in Black in Green