Story: Mother Güse Must Die (chapter 19)

Authors: StarCross

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Chapter 19

Title: Super-Special Number 02 - Billy Bonkura and the Confectionary Factory

Mother Güse Must Die

Super-Special Number 02 - Billy Bonkura and the Confectionary Factory

It was a slow news day in one cold morning in the factory district of Flint, Michigan. There was something going on before the tall and imposing walls of a confectionary factory. No knew what really lied behind those walls besides the factory that was built there during Flint's boom in the sixties and seventies. The tops were protected by barbwire, and there were ghostly and seemingly unoccupied watchtowers every eighth of a mile. There were a lot of security cameras on that wall, and everyday rent-a-cops from Brazil drove around in electric carts in their daily patrol. It wasn't like a factory--it was more like a top-secret research fortress rivaling that of Area 51, or more like a prison work camp like that of Nazi Germany or Soviet Russia.

"Hello, I'm Willard Thaddeus Max of Channel 96 news reporting to you live from Flint, Michigan before a large crowd where Billy Bonkura is about to open the gates to his imposing and mysterious confectionary factor for those who had found the Aluminum Ticket in their Billy Bonkura."

The real and Polynesian newscaster Willard stood in the middle of an excited group of low-income teenagers, most of who were black. As it turned out, the large crowd was an exaggeration. Though the teenagers crowded around the cameras, the area before the large and dark rusting gates of the Billy Bonkura Confectionary Factory was almost deserted. Instead, there were some unemployed onlookers with nothing better to do, the homeless, drunk vagrants, one drug dealer, a paraplegic pimp, and two crazy white men. One white man was a skinny and nerdy guy with big glasses who looked was dressed like blue-collar worker. Despite his dress, he was an attention-grabbing leftist liberal who had completely misunderstood and misrepresented what it meant to be a leftist liberal. He was holding a sign that read:

Corporations = Evil

Billy Bonkura Confectionary Factory = Corporation

Billy Bonkura Confectionary Factory = Evil

"It seems that as usual Michael Moore has made his appearance again," said Willard as he walked over to the no-so bearded activist. "So what business do you have protesting against Billy Bonkura?"

"I don't know what wrong he has done," said Moore, "but all I know that his factory is evil."

"Right you are you leftist nut. Oh, and it looks like there's another activist."

The second crazy white man was a bearded man dressed in ragged clothes. He looked and sounded suspiciously like Charlton Heston, which he was not. Willard motioned to the cameraman Zessi Marin to follow him to this man carrying a cardboard sign written with bile.

"Say there, are you Charlton Heston?" Willard asked.

"I'm Green Soybean!" replied the crazy dude.

"Whatever you say. So what brings you here?"

"I'm here to warn the world that Gobstoopers are made by people! People!"

"Don't you mean made of people?"

"Damn it. A Freudian slip."

Green Soybean dropped his sign to his knee and made the appropriate corrections with his shoe polish.

"And here comes the winners in their unreliable American or European cars," said Willard.

A giant SUV that was lowered pulled in off to the side of the factory gates. As it turned out, it was being weighed down by an obese boy named John Smith and the driver who was his obese mother, Jane Smith, both whom hailed from America's heartland of Fatexas (pronounced Fa'tehas), the state next to the not-so-fat state of Texas. The two were like gross blobs nearly bursting from the sextuple extra large clothes. They waddled from their from their SUV with their fatty skins jiggling and slapping so noisily against each other that it sounded like there was an orgy going on, except there were no sexual moans--just animal-like grunts and eating noises. Right now, they were trying out the Atkins fad diet, so they were now devouring rump roast as they headed to meet up with Willard. Thankfully, they smelled like tasty bacon instead of fat persons.

Arriving in a smaller yet European SUV was a Republican mother named Nancy Huff who was a doctor in an abortion clinic and her blonde daughter Diane Huff who thinks she was going to be next Britney Spears. The two hailed from Texas, and looked like bombshells that looked ready to suck an erect billion-dollar penis.

"It seems the child contestants consist of a whale and a floozy," remarked Willard. "I wonder when all the others will show up?"

Trudging in a pumpkin-orange Diesel Mercedes that was stolen were Becky, Mira, Ginger, the dog HLS and a very excited Red who was a Britney Spears fan but did not desire to become like her. Becky drove the Mercedes into a slow crash into a lamppost where a couple of vagrants had just finished urinating. Finally, the Diesel Mercedes gave up the ghost. The girls and their dog leapt out ready and fashionably, though they were not fashionably dressed. They were dressed as if they were ready to mug or assassinate someone, but it was hard to tell with their seemingly plain clothes and coats that concealed their weapons.

"Finally, our financial troubles will be over!" Becky cried out.

"Finally, I can rule the world!" Ginger cried out.

"Finally, I can have all the candy I want!" Red cried out.

"Arf!" cried HLS.

"Finally, I can, um, make Ginger mine!" Mira cried out. "I hope."

"Did you say something?" Ginger asked.

"Nothing! I didn't say anything!"

"Then don't just stand there! Let's get in front of the other losers!"

"Like, who the hell are you calling a loser?" said Diane Huff.

"Like, who the hell let this floozy in?"

"Aren't you too old to be qualified for the contest?"

"Of course I am!" Ginger sidestepped and grabbed a Red's shoulders. "I'm her lawyer. I mean, when there is a prize that is waiting for us, you can never be too prepared."

"I'll vouch for that," grinned Diane's mother, Nancy Huff.

"Aren't you too young to be a lawyer?" Diane asked Ginger.

"Look you little brat," growled Ginger. "Do you want to get sued?"

"Why you..."

"Ignore her dear," said Nancy. "Her behavior and presence alone will make us look better in Bonkura's eyes."

"And we can get the cash prize."

"Speaking of which," interrupted Willard as he spoke to his microphone and to the camera, "I should remind you viewers that five Aluminum Tickets were hidden in every Billy Bonkura Chocolate Bar that was shipped all over the world--or least in the 'white' countries like the United States, Germany, and England. The children who receive these tickets are allowed to bring their parents and an optional lawyer in their free tour of this creepy confectionary factory filled with whatever underpaid immigrant laborers. After the tour, Billy Bonkura will select one child out of the five to be the winner of the 555,551 dollars cash prize. Although, I see that there are only three children. I heard that the contestants have arrived from Germany and England. What could be taking them so long?"

"I wonder," Ginger grinned evilly.

It seemed that Becky and Ginger had thought of the same plan to heighten their chances to attain the cash prize. An hour or so before, Becky and the girls had sent a death threat to the child from Germany by leaving a dead skunk in his bed. They also swayed the spoiled rich girl from England from arriving at the front gates of the factory by sending revealing photos to her rich father of him having sex with his babysitter.

And to make doubly sure that those contestants would not arrive, Becky and girls sabotaged all taxi and bus operations, leaked gas around their hotels, and caused massive traffic incidents around Flint. This may also explain why not many spectators or news crews were able to get to the front gates of the confectionary factory.

"I guess it's just us three groups," grinned Becky.

Finally, the hour and minute came. The clock struck 10:10 AM. The solid metal gates slowly whirred and opened with agitating screeching or quasi-rusted hinges, gears, and joints. Everyone covered their ears and stood watching with errant anticipation. After a couple of excruciating minutes, the gates were swung full open. Before them was a pimp-like white American with a lavender top hat, diamond encrusted glasses, and a cane. Suddenly, two spotlights were shone him. Then rap music began booming from the bass-heavy speakers from the two watchtowers nearest to the gate. The strobe lights then appeared over him. The man started break dancing and grabbed his crotch and butt at every money shot. The two other contestant children had their eyes covered by their mothers. The man's provocative dance moves were the least offensive to Becky and her group's eyes. It was the awful music that was sung by a white rapper.

Fortunately, it only lasted two minutes when the music and lights abruptly cut off. When he stopped dancing, the man had his legs up in the air with his crotch splayed before everyone's eyes. He looked around quizzically on why the music and the lights had stopped.

"That's enough," said a serious man, off screen. Appearing from the side was a male WASP who looked like he could be in the Democrat party. He almost looked like Al Gore for some odd reason--squarish and probably had a small penis.

"We can only afford two minutes of that song," he continued, "and for God's sake brother, get out of that position."

"Just as I was getting to the good part," sighed the pimp whitey.

The pimp-like man leapt from the ground and landed whimsically on what was revealed to be an old red carpet he purchased from Hollywood third-hand.

"That was disgusting!" belched Jane Smith.

"That song was disgusting," said Becky.

"Ara?" said the pimp man. "It seems that there is only three of you."

"The other two contestants called in," said the Democrat-looking fellow. "They said they could not make it."

"Is that so?"

"They sounded like they were threatened. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to publicly reveal the winners."

"We can't back at now can we?

"Why else have we spent almost the rest of our funds?"

"Well anyway..."

The pimp-man spun on his right foot and bowed before the contestants.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "I am the super-heretical hyper-disorderly and ultra-slammin' Billy Bonkura; the man who runs this awesome confectionary factory you see here."

"And I'm his brother, Gerald Bonkura," said the square in the suit. "The CFO."

"Is it possible that I can get a tour?" asked Willard.

"Do you have a Aluminum Ticket?"

"Or how about a small glimpse? An interview maybe? There are so many questions I'd like to ask Billy Bonkura on behalf of all the viewers in Michigan..."

"There will be none of that. If you'll excuse us, the tour has to start."

Gerald looked down and noticed HLS looking up at him with glassy eyes. He also noticed the prosthetic nose hanging off her collar. That reminded of a song...

...but he could not think of its lyrics at that moment.

"Whose dog is this?" he asked.

"Ours," said Becky.

"I want HLS to come along!" Red cried.

"This dog cannot come. No pets are allowed."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ginger asked. "We've got two dumb red elephants and two malnourished blue elephants beside us!"

"Hey," muttered Diane.

"You'll have to leave the dog outside," said Gerald.

"No!" Red cried. "She'll miss out on the chocolate!"

"HLS will be fine," said Becky.

So Becky tied HLS to a pole where Green Soybean stood by. He looked down at the female Doberman Pincher and smiled.

"Watch her, all right?" Becky said to Green Soybean.

"Of course," said Green. "At least I can talk to someone on where dog food came from."

HLS rolled her eyes. She then lay down on the ground and closed her eyes as Green began to chatter away.

Gerald hastily motioned the contestants to get inside the perimeter of the factory grounds before Willard's cameraman could sneak a shot of the interior. In no time, the towering gate doors slammed before everyone's faces. Gerald pulled out his walkie-talkie and mumbled something about securing the perimeter. Holstering his communication device to his side, he wiped his brow and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Shall we?" smiled Billy.

As it turned out, Billy led everyone in a march down the red carpet that was surrounded by barbwire electrical fencing. Becky and the girls looked to their sides that this was just a typical power-hungry corporation bent on achieving profit and a new world order through its products and services. Billy had his own fleet of trucks bearing his "BB" logo, but they looked like military convoy trucks. He even had a couple of armored trucks, a bullet-resistant limousine, and a couple of true Hummers. There were security cameras and spotlights shining on the grounds. So far, everyone had not seen a single soul who worked in this factory other than Billy and his brother Gerald.

They entered through the shell-resistant metal doors and ended up in the metal detection room--which was also the waiting room and the coatroom. In that same room was a wall full of box-shaped lockers stacked upon another in a six by nine grid. Those lockers were the coin-op type.

"Security reasons," said Gerald. "Just pass through these metal detectors, and..."

Red was the first to go, followed by John, who had to squeeze himself in, and then Diane. The sirens blared.

"Hold it!" Billy cried as he thrust his cane in front of Red.

Billy suggestively stroked his cane down Red's side. This was inciting Becky's anger as she prepared to take him down with one of her throwing knives. Then in one downward thrust, Billy detached one of Red's pistols onto the ground. Becky froze and narrowed her eyes at Billy. He was more perceptive than she thought.

"Little girls should not play with guns," said Billy.

"It's for protection," said Becky, recovering her cool. "We had to go through the ghetto you know."

"The second amendment said so!" Ginger added.

"I guess you're right," said Billy. "I won't turn you in, but all of you will have to leave your weapons behind. Also, no silverware, keys, pocketknives, plastic utensils, computing devices, credit cards, coins, paper, food items, and any type of glass are allowed. Including glasses and medical devices."

"Fuck, the things we do to get the cash prize," said Ginger as she took off her glasses. To Mira's eyes, the glasses-less Ginger looked so cute and sexy that it made her wet, despite the fact she had seen Ginger without glasses numerous times.

"Oh, and you have to leave your shoes behind as well and wear the factory slippers."

"For sanitary reasons," said Gerald.

"If you need change for the lockers, I'll be happy to lend you some."

"They must really think ahead," Mira said to her companions.

"And what about you two?" Nancy asked Billy and Gerald. "Shouldn't you set an example by leaving your dangerous and dirty items behind."

"I guess you are right," said Billy. "But," he said gesturing with his index finger up in the air, "I have to keep my hat."


"Hair loss. I'm still getting shy about it."

It was quite surprising the amount of dangerous everyday items people had on their person. In addition to their coats, cloaks, and shoes, Becky and the girls had to leave behind almost all of their belongings in the coin-op lockers, and that included their dangerous weapons of swords, knives, guns, syringe bullets, grenades, and Ginger's laptop computer and Palm Pilot. More surprising was that Nancy and Diane Huff had on them dagger-like nail files and two revolver pistols each. And even more surprising was that Jane and John Smith and an entire dining set stuck underneath their blubber skins. Less surprising was Billy and Gerald's belongings, which were normal as they could be.

With everything in order, everyone were allowed to proceed down to the narrow hallway that seemed to be getting narrower and smaller--at least in the Smith's case.

"Why is this place getting smaller?" Jane Smith asked.

"That's because you're getting fatter," said Ginger, "but yeah, this place is getting smaller."

"That's because you're nearsighted," said Becky.

"Actually, we just remodeled," Gerald said, "but the construction workers got the measurements wrong."

"But it makes this place seem like a funhouse!" Billy cried out.

"This wouldn't have happened if you hired American contractors instead of French ones. The French use the metric system."

Billy was oblivious to the shrinking hallway, and caused Gerald to sigh deeply once again at his brother's kookyness. Billy somehow reminded Becky of Gene Duo Biggs, but she was less white, less male, and less disgusting.

Finally they reached the end of the hallway and stood before a door half their size.

"We have to fit through there?" asked John Smith.

"With great effort and a friggn' shoehorn you can," said Ginger.

"I suppose this is part of the test of the contest," said Diane.

"What test?" Billy asked. "Anyway, I'll open the door and..."

Becky karate-kicked the door down that then took out the entire wall. Soon the entire hallway collapsed around them to reveal a wide-open and empty warehouse interior and the real door to the factory.

"Sorry about that," smiled Billy. "I didn't have a proper reception hall ready for you guys."

Without further ado, Billy threw open the doors to reveal a colorful Eden-like garden interior. The grass was bright and minty, the bushes had gumdrop berries, and the trees had caramel apples growing from the branches.

"Welcome to my factory!" cried Billy. "Here is the prototype of our edible garden."

Suddenly they heard crunching noises. Red threw up pieces of the caramel apple, while John was on the ground eat the grass like a cow.

"This apple doesn't taste like apple!" Red cried.

"I said that this was a prototype!" cried Billy. "Everything you see here is just toxic plastic and turf."

"I want some candy now!"

But the fat kid kept on eating. He desperately needed something to fill his perpetually growling stomach.

"What's that over there?" Mira asked as she pointed over to the indoor river system.

Everyone turned their heads and saw a brown river that had a fragrant smell. One end began from the waterfall falling from the ceiling, and the other led to a dark tunnel.

"I guess that must be the chocolate river," said Becky.

"How cool!" Red cried.

"Yes, and no," said Billy. "It was supposed to be where we process the chocolate through waterfall compression, but our septic tank broke and leaked into the system. To cover up the smell, we had make creative use of our ventilation system and pump a perfume agent into the air."

"And what are those disgusting things?" Diane pointed.

All their eyes were turned to a beer-bellied midget fitted into a too-revealing leotard. He had women's makeup make-up on and his dark afro hair were glossed was twice the size of his head. The one Diane pointed at was haggard, tired, and was hauling a large filled bucket on his back. Suddenly more of these creatures appeared, and they happened to be clean-up duty.

"Oh those creatures," said Billy. "They are the Goomba-Moombas hailing from the land of Shumi hidden underneath the glaciers of Greenland. They are very hard workers who will do anything for a buck since the economy of Shumi had been hit through hard times."

"That's what we'd tell the kids for future factory tours," spoke Gerald from aside. "They're actually gay Swedish midgets. There's a whole lot of them in Sweden."

"Whatever you say brother."

"And at every hour, they Goomba-Moombas will sing and dance for the tourists."

"We're still trying to get the Goomba-Moomba trademark registered, so the name's not yet finalized."

"What time is it now?" Jane asked.

"Well, it's only 10:30," said Billy, "but I suppose I can get them to sing for you guys."

Billy glared at the Goomba-Moombas, and yelled out, "HEY! GET YOUR ASSES IN GEAR!"

"Hey a-hole," spoke Goomba-Moomba No.1, who sounded like he was from Brooklyn, "that wasn't part of our union contract."

"Shut-up! You are not supposed to speak, and you guys are from Sweden or Shumi--or whatever."

Goomba-Moomba No. 1 grumbled and motioned his other dwarf brethren to set up for the sing and dance spiel.

"Um, brother," spoke Gerald, "I think we really do have to follow the contract we gave them. The Labor Union is not an entity you want to mess with."

"Hush now baby Gerald," said Billy, "all union contracts are detrimental to creating the perfect product."

"John!" cried Jane. "Don't you dare drink the water!"

"But I'm going to the bathroom!" said John, who was waddling his way down the hill to the sweet-smelling yet disgusting brown river.

"The bathroom is at the corner over there," said Gerald.

"How you can say that about him?" Jane asked. "My little John will have a heart attack if he walks more than one mile. Could you please let him go in the river?"

"All right fine. Just this once."

Jane blinked girlishly and smiled. He gave a smacking kiss to Gerald and left a stain of tomato, chocolate, and barbeque sauce on his cheek.

John pulled down his pants and stooped over by the river. Seeing this, Ginger thought of a plan to get rid of him.

"Hey John-John!" she cried out. "There's a sauerkraut stuck in the fat-fold two inches above your butt crack!"

"A sauerkraut?" John cried. "I've got to eat it!"

In his confusion in trying to reach his back with his blubbery arms, John lost balance and fell into the brown river. Jane screamed, and started shaking Gerald to go after them.

"Why don't your Goomba-Moombas get him?" Jane yelled.

"It's not part of their contract to swim," gasped Gerald. "They're not professionally trained divers."

"Why don't you go after your son fat-mama?" Ginger asked. "Or is that that you cannot swim?"

"Well, I was a champion swimmer before I had my little John," said Jane. "And I haven't done much swimming after I got divorced from my first husband."

"Now is a good time to waddle like a whale. Off you go!"

From the top of the hill, Ginger pushed Jane of balance and caused her to roll like a giant boulder into the brown water. The impact splash created a powerful explosion of raining brown water that everyone had to take cover under the licorice gazebo to prevent themselves and their clothes from staining.

Ginger relished at the mother and son's suffering with a discrete and evil smile. He looked to Becky, Red, and Mira who looked disappointed. Then discretely, they all gave her a thumbs-up with a bright grin.

"Oh my God," gasped Nancy Huff. "Will those two be all right?"

"Just as long as they don't sink," winced Billy.

"You do have some kind of suction pipe system to gather the chocolate, right?" asked Diane.

"Um, it's not functioning at the moment," said Gerald.

"So where does the river lead to?" Mira asked.

"A chocolate collecting pool," said Billy.

"Which is also not functioning at the moment," said Gerald.

"If they were to be swept away, they should get stuck into some pipes... eventually."

Everyone watched Billy twiddle his fingers for a couple of silent seconds.

"I'll call the divers," said Gerald.

"Yeah, you do that," said Billy.

Gerald parted from the party and disappeared into the thicket of the candy garden.

"Oh, look," said Billy. "The Goomba-Moombas are about to do their show. Finally."

A troupe of ten Goomba-Moombas dressed up like the village people showed up before everyone in the clearing before the licorice gazebo. Goomba-Moomba No. 1 was dressed as sleeveless construction worker, and was carrying in his arms a big boombox that looked like a bozooka (or the whitey's ghetto blaster as Ginger would call it). He set it down and then pressed play on the tape deck portion. The Goomba-Moombas lined up to their positions as the techno music that would be played in gay nightclubs started up. Then they started singing in terrible voices:

Goomba, Moomba...

The music was abruptly cut off when Ginger kicked the boombox into the brown river. The Goomba-Moomba's felt relieved that they won't have to sing and dance and looked to Ginger for a thankful expression. Ginger, however, glared at them with malice. She simply did not like the way these short people looked at her. One by one, Ginger overpowered the Goomba-Moombas and tossed them into the brown river where they were swept away from everyone's eyes.

"Thank you," clapped Nancy. "I didn't want my daughter to be exposed to such awful homoeroticism."

"Of course," said Diane. "I am an impressionable teeny bopper."

Ginger was itching to throw those Liberal Republicans in the river as well, but she had to save it for later based on the expression of her teammates. Besides, she didn't have enough strength to throw regular people.

"You didn't have to do that," said Billy. "But alas, the tour must go on. Come! Let's get on the boat!"

"What boat?" Mira asked.

"It should be coming up in a couple of minutes."

They heard a roar of hacking gasoline engine of a marine vehicle. Pulling out in reverse from the dark tunnel of the brown river was gaudy and campy yacht decorated with swirling wheels and a fading canopy. At the helm was a cigarette-smoking midget Joe C (born Joseph Calleja) of the Kid Rock fame. There was also a band chained to the deck headed by none other than Marilyn Manson dressed femininely in bondage outfits.

"Oh God, why is that man there?" asked Nancy.

"For the boat show," said Billy. "You don't approve?"

"I do approve! My daughter and I are fans of his!"

"Typical of Liberal Republicans," smirked Becky. Everyone else nodded in agreement.

Once on the yacht, Nancy and Diane tried to get an autograph from Marilyn Manson but it turned out that no one had any paper or pens, and those items were not allowed in the factory tour. The soft-spoken and gentle Marilyn promised to give them an autographed photo at the end of the tour.

"Marilyn!" Becky waved. "What are you doing here?"

"We have a contract with Billy Bonkura," replied Marilyn.

"So the bondage thing is part the act, right?"

"Like hell! We're chained here so we can't escape!"

Billy glared back at the band.

"W-we're just kidding," Marilyn smiled uneasily. "So, which song do you want to be played Rebecca?"

"Have them play 'The Dope Show'!" Diane cried out.

"The Dope Show it is," grinned Becky.

Everyone settled to sit on his or her benches. The yacht started up again and began going into the dark tunnel that illuminated in neon colors midway. The ride was rocky, but not once did Marilyn Manson and his bandmates falter in their playing.

The ride lasted as long as the song, and it was nice change from whatever the Goomba-Moombas were about to play. They floated for a while in the middle of the great pool inside a gargantuan spherical chamber. They heard some screams. Everyone looked over the side of the boat and saw the obese Jane and John Smith floating by as well as the Goomba-Moombas Ginger threw into the brown river. After waving goodbye to them, the boat docked before the bullet-resistant transparent doors to the R&D labs.

Before entering into the lab itself, they had to go through disinfecting chamber to remove any traces of bad odor, loose lint, hair, and skin flakes. After that process was finished, they finally got in.

The lab was dark and dangerous, and it was filled with all kinds of hideous vials, beakers, and glass box workstations for hazardous materials. They could hear cutting and grinding, but none of them could see any of the tools that made those noises. There was a strangely satisfying burning smell that was akin to that of gasoline or glue. The lab was staffed by more afro-headed Goomba-Moombas in oversized lab coats. Since the lab was built for people of normal height, the Goomba had to rely on footstools, heightened walkways, and grabbing arms.

"Now this is our lab R&D lab where we pump all sorts of new candy on a quarterly basis," started Billy.

Something shattered behind them. They all turned around and saw Red standing next to a broken and flaming beaker.

"Sorry," Red smiled.

"Look, for now on don't touch anything," said Billy. "Anyway, follow me as I show you our latest developments."

As everyone walked, Red, Ginger, and Diane lingered at the back shoulder-to-shoulder looking around.

Something caught their eye on the right. They saw a glass case with twelve individual compartments of equal sized. They looked empty, but upon closer inspection they saw balls of Gobstoopers of many colors in their own compartment. The three girls parted from the group and looked around to see if anyone would notice them.

"I read in the internet that Billy Bonkura is making candy with medicinal value," said Ginger. "Imagine, I can get high and suck on this ball if they put hemp inside of it."

"You can't believe everything you read on the Internet," said Diane.

"I want some candy," Red drooled.

"We're supposed to be here for the cash prize," said Ginger. "Although we can steal one and have Mira dissect it for the formula. Then we can get rich off making imitations through by using my factory connections in China."

"Stealing is wrong," said Diane. "God said so."

"I guess it is wrong to steal from Mother Nature, eh?"

"God allows us to do whatever we want with this planet. He said so in the Bible."

"It is also wrong for white Anglo-Saxon Protestants to plunder from third world countries."

"Hey, you're white too."

"True, but I'm not a Protestant Christian."

"Then what are you then?"

"Anyway, I'm not too worried about the thievery. I'm not going to do it."

"You made the right decision," smiled Diane.

"You're going to do it."


"If you don't steal one of those Gobstoopers, then I'll call you Lillycunt for the rest of your life."

"You said the same thing to me back at the airport," said Red.


"Then I'll knock you out for calling me names," said Diane. "I am, after all, a second-degree black belt."

"Have you killed a person?"


Ginger put her hands on Red's shoulders and pulled her before Diane's eyes.

"My friend here has," said Ginger.

"You're lying," said Diane.

"No it's true. Red, how did you kill that man at the hotel?"

"I rammed a sharpened pipe through his anus," Red replied with an innocent smile.

"And it came right through his gut! It was so hilarious!"

"I think you're lying," said Diane.

Red smiled even wider. Diane looked deep into her eyes and realized the full extent of Red's ability to kill with whatever that is given to her.

"Lillycunt," Ginger said. "I'm waiting."

"Damn you to hell," grumbled Diane.

Diane turned to the glass case began her selection of a Gobstooper. She took out the plain white one from its compartment.

All of a sudden, a Goomba-Moomba dressed in crimson-stained lab coat walked passed them while looking at a clipboard. Startled, Diane puts the white Gobstooper in her mouth in an effort to hide it. Sensing some suspicion, the Goomba-Moomba stopped and stared at the girls. The girls froze, but they smiled back at him. The Goomba-Moomba smiled back with a nod, and resumed walking past them.

"By Goddess, I hate those things," said Ginger. "I just want to toss them in the river again!"

Diane suddenly collapsed. Red and Ginger stared at girl's unconscious body deliberating on whether to leave her on the floor, molest her, take her clothes, harvest her kidneys, or do some other unspeakable things. The thought of helping her did not pass their minds.

Not far, Billy had just finished presentation on how he was going to create a hard candy with the highest alcohol content in the world. Becky was salivating at the idea and begged Billy to send her some samples.

"In due time," said Billy. "By then we would have already come up with a sobering Gobstooper that won't give you any hangover effects. Speaking of which, I think we passed by some samples. Can't believe I forgot about them! This way now ladies."

Right when they turned around, Nancy screamed. She ran off to cradle her unmoving daughter.

"Diane!" she screamed. "Diane! Diane!" Then she gasped. "She's turning blue!"

With some knowledge of medicine within her, Mira bent over to check Diane's pulse on her wrist, and then on her neck.

"She's not breathing," said Mira. "The pulse is going out. Her heart stopped."

"Oh my," said Billy. "I guess the young girl sucked on my tranquilizer Gobstooper. It isn't perfected yet. It's too strong."

"Diane!" cried Nancy.

Nancy pushed Mira away and started pumping her chest with her palms. Then she took a deep breath and gave her daughter a breath of life, sans tongue. The process repeated many times until Becky and her group became disinterested and walked away from the scene.

"So what's this beer mint you guys were talking about again?" Ginger started.

Billy summoned Goomba-Moomba No. 10 to his side and ordered him to gather some helpers for the transfer of Diane to the infirmary. No. 10 saluted and ran off. He came back with four more Goomba-Moombas carrying a stretcher. The blue and unconscious Diane was put onto it and was whisked away. Goomba-Moomba No. 10 took the distressed hand of Nancy and escorted her off.

Billy walked back to Becky and her group.

"Despite some unfortunate circumstances happening around here, we must continue the tour," said Billy. "We are only halfway done."

"Fuck the tour!" Ginger cried. "Give us the money!"

"Give me some candy booze!" Becky yelled.

"Give me some candy!" Red cried.

"Um, I think I'm set," said Mira as her eyes and body drew closer to Ginger.

"We're obviously the remaining contestant group due to others not showing up, breaking your rules, or failing the trials," said Becky.

"What trials?" Billy asked.

"Look, we don't have time. Could you just give us the money?"

"My, aren't you an impatient bunch." Billy took a deep breath and sighed loudly. "All right, I will give you the money. Please wait for me in the cafeteria. The exit is that corner over there. Just the follow the signs."

"Will there be complementary candy there?" Red asked.

Billy chuckled. "Of course not. I don't even give my own employees free samples."

As if her ghost left her, Red gasped and tears trickled from her eyes. Mira and Ginger grabbed each of her arms from the sides and walked her to the exit that led to the cafeteria.

"Let's go," said Mira. "We'll get some candy once we get out of this factory."

"Please enjoy tofu tacos!" Billy waved.

He waved and waved until Becky and the girls exited through the doorway. The hallway there were in was plain and somewhat industrial. They followed the signs just as Billy said made it to the plain-looking cafeteria that looked as if was meant for a nursing home. Ginger and Mira sat the dazed Red down, and joined up with Becky to order their food. Though most of the dishes contained traces of sugar, it was not enough to sate Red's sweet tooth. The only thing that was remotely sweet they could get her were a cup of Pepsi One, an Equal packet of substitute sugar, and small apple.

"I sure hope HLS is doing fine with that Green Soybean guy," said Mira.

"I hope so too," said Becky. "He needs to do some fact checking before he could make wild claims that Japanese radishes are fertilized by the feces of Japanese schoolgirls."

"Of course, we all know that that they use the feces of Japanese Otakus."

Red did not initially eat her meal, which consisted of two Tofu Tacos, the cup of Pepsi one, the small apple, and the Equal imitation sugar packet. Eventually she took two or three bites of each, and sipped from her cup.

"Sweet enough?" Ginger asked.

"It's still not candy," said Red. "Candy is something that you have to chew and suck, like Grandma's labia and nipples. Besides, I hate Pepsi One."

"I'll agree to that."

Ginger picked up the filled cup of Pepsi One and tossed into the path of a Goomba-Moomba of the transvestite division. The Goomba-Mooba got mad and nearly went over to beat Ginger. However, Ginger overpowered him and then tossed him and all of the other Goomba-Moombas in the cafeteria into every trashcan, oven, garbage chute, and laundry chute.

"I can't wait," wept Red. "I want candy."

"I want booze you know,'" said Becky, "but Red-chan, you can't let such dissatisfactions get you down."

Red wailed even louder. Everyone else sighed and remained silent for a little longer. Then suddenly, Ginger's face lit up with a bright idea.

"What is it Ginger?" Mira asked.

"Red and I are gonna go to the bathroom!" Ginger replied.

"Can I come too?"


The answer was too curt to handle for Mira's heart. She suddenly became dizzy and half-fainted on Becky's shoulder.

"You have to go that badly?" Becky asked.

"Sure!" Ginger said. Immediately after she winked, and Becky picked up on her plan.

"Okay then," Becky smiled. "Just don't get caught."

"We won't! Come on Red!"

Ginger pulled Red off her seat and led her out of the cafeteria. Just as they had said, the two went into the bathroom together just like all other girls their age. They never came out.

With arms folded valiantly, Billy Boknura stood at the very edge of the bow of his yacht as it carried him to his destination from the giant dome pool. The grumbling band of Marilyn Manson sat on the floor smoking and playing the latest Satan-approved fad (as defined by the Christian Right, the religious right, whiny nerds on the internet, or whatever), the card version of PokÇmon.

The yacht went straight down a narrow tunnel where ahead of Billy was a concrete-covered dead end. But the dead end suddenly opened and went into a boxy lead-shielded chamber. The yacht slowed to stop, allowing Billy to leap off his bow and land on the docks on the starboard side.

"Can we get some drinks?" asked the androgynous Twiggy, a Marilyn Manson band member. "Or maybe go to the bathroom."

Billy ignored their requests as that would entail unchaining the band, and he would not allow that. He trotted away from them and stood before a titanium-reinforced double-door. He quick-punched the pass code on the key panel. The doors unlocked and slid open on its railing. Billy stepped in. He turned left in the white hallways entered a dark room.

A flash of light revealed that he was in the real R&D room, to which the one he gave the tour to Becky was a fake. As the doors closed behind him, Billy walked towards clean and white room. Mysteriously, his cane floated right to his hand.

"Thank you Matilde," he said, turn his head towards his right. Behind a lab table was dark-haired genius young woman standing up from a polite bow. She puts back on her glasses and resumed reading one of her books.

There was a table in the corner where metallic arms suspended a large and bulbous peach. The large peach was still attached to its tree vine, and that tree was right next to it withering and crooking. There other peaches, but they were all small, wrinkled, grossly discolored, and being eaten out by a peaceful group of ants and worms.

Sensing Billy's presence, a lanky red-haired young man emerged from behind the large peach. There was a spider on his shoulder, but it scurried away and hid itself from Billy's eyes along with centipedes, grasshoppers, ladybugs, and other spiders.

"Greetings Mister Bonkura," smiled the young man. He spoke with a British accent.

"Hello Jimmy Heathrow," greeted Billy. "Has Chuck Buck calmed down?"

"He has." The two men walked over to the far corner where there was a cage. Inside of it was blonde male teenager with torn clothes sleeping peacefully. There were stains on his hands and mouth, probably chocolate or maybe blood.

"Such a pity," said Jimmy. "I guess living with four obese and bedridden grandparents and a prostitute mother must have driven him feral. He used to be such a good kid with a kind heart."

"What of the other contestants and their parents?" asked Billy.

"Jane Smith and his son John have been rendered unconscious by my bugs. I've also taken the liberty of knocking out Nancy Huff as a precaution. We're working fast to bring Diane Huff back to speed."

As if she was sitting on an invisible chair, Matilde Woodworth puts away her book and floated to Billy's side.

"So what brings you here to this lab?" asked Matilde, who also spoke with a British accent.

"If you're worried about the application of Incrack to the candies, then there is no need to worry," said Jimmy. "It's all going smoothly. We're expecting to go in full production with modified confections this coming Monday."

"Unless it's something altogether different."

"I just need to be here just in case things go awry," said Billy.

"And that is?"

"Where is my brother?"

"I'll bring him in over."

Matilde landed on her feet. Shooting her right hand out, the door at the other corner of the lab swung open. Gerald flew out from the bathroom fumbling to pull up his boxers and his slacks back over his waist. Right as he buckled his belt, Matilde settled him down before Billy.

"I wasn't finished," said Gerald.

"Brother," said Billy, "the winners of the contest want their money now. Do we have enough to fulfill the minimum payment?"

"Absolutely not! We only have five hundred and fifty-one dollars!"

"What happened to our money? I could have sworn we had more."

"We wasted five hundred on the diving services. Let's not forget the fees we owe to the RIAA for using that song! Not to mention the maintenance costs to get the Incrack processing chamber up and running."

Furious, Billy whacked his brother with his cane. He took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh. Then he trotted over with his cane tapping the ground at each step towards the double-doors at the right of the lab.

He entered through the industrial Incrack processing chamber; a giant place filled with rows of big and sealed cauldrons full of the material over a giant segmented pools candied goop. There wasn't a floor so to speak, but rather there was a grid of catwalks running along the edge of the walls and bordering each cauldron section. Each cauldron received the powdered form of Incrack so it could compress it and bond chemically to a convincing sugar substitute. The liquid then ran down the pipes and to the main tank where it could be distributed to all the candy assembly chambers all over the factory. Gerald, Jimmy, and Matilde followed him hastily.

"I do not like the look of those girls," said Billy.

"Then you shouldn't have allowed them in," said Gerald.

"I cannot cause a panic just because of that. Our factory's image is on the line."

"And you decided to apply a drug in all our candies?"

Billy pressed a hidden switch in his cane. A short dagger-blade popped out at the end. He swung it at Gerald's neck and stopped right before the skin. Gerald could not move because Matilde was using her telekinetic powers to plant him in the spot.

"Do you remember why we are here?" Billy asked. "Do you want to stain the memories of our parents?"

"No I don't," gasped Gerald. "But..."

"But what? We already know that all major candy manufactures are allowed to apply an addictive substance just like the fast food industry and the American cigarette manufacturers. Now were going to fight fire with fire, and our candies will be more addictive than the illegal drugs of Colombia! For too long they ruled the candy cartel with ruthless abandon! Hell, they would even steal secrets from each other, and use overseas factories to produce cheap imitations with slave labor. What they fear the most is proper candy that is made with natural ingredients and with love of heart. They were so afraid of our parents succeeding that they murdered them! I aim to ruin Nestle, Mars, Godiva, and the rest of their lot!"

"But Incrack still haven't been properly tested!"

"The Goomba-Moombas don't count?"

"They're not Goomba-Moombas, they're not from Sweden, and they're not all gay."

Billy retracted his blade back into the cane, and then struck the floor with it as he set it down.

"Very well," he said. "I'll just use the contestants as test subjects. I've already got a wide range of samples from the fasto Smiths and the Liberal Republicans."

Gerald narrowed his eyes. "You've gone mad," said he. "I only helped you because you're my brother, but this has to stop! Father and mother won't forgive us for the crimes we are about to commit. You're the one who is staining their memories!"

With the decorative handle end of his cane, Billy struck his brother in the stomach. Matilde released her powers so she could allow him to fall to his knees.

"Have Chuck Buck unchained and uncaged," Billy said to Jimmy and Matilde. "We going have to drag the winners to the labs."

"Hold on sir," said Jimmy.

A fly suddenly landed on the edge of Jimmy's ear and began speaking to it.

"I think we might have a problem," he said.

It wasn't as if Red and Ginger didn't come out of the restroom because they were having sex, though the possibility would stress Mira a lot. Of course, she wouldn't mind joining in to form a threesome. Red and Ginger did not come back to the cafeteria because they were squeezing their way through the air ducts. However, they got lost, and going back was not an option since it was a tight fit. Where they emerged was a big surprise.

They fell through the ceiling grate and landed on the catwalk overlooking the Incrack processing chamber from high above. Red and Ginger looked down and saw the multitudes of plastic pipes running to each imposing spherical cauldron.

"Whoa, this is cool," said Ginger. "It's like chemical weapons plant."

"Is this where they make the candy?" Red asked.

"No shit. We're in a fucking confectionary factory."

They could do nothing but walk alongside the catwalk and look down at the processing chamber. They accelerated their pace when got bored and then searched for some type of exit. Red and Ginger suddenly stopped when they saw Matilde and Jimmy listening to intense conversation between the Bonkura brothers.

"Hey it's Mister Bonkura!" Red cried.

Ginger covered Red's mouth and pulled her to the floor.

"Shush!" Ginger cried. "They're talking secret things!"

Both were expert lip readers and listened to the conversation that was written, oh, a bunch paragraphs before this. Upon hearing of Billy's diabolical plan, a wide smile stretched across Ginger's face.

"Amazing!" said Ginger. "I can't believe they are doing that. I should be the one who sells this Incrack-based candy!"

Red pulled Ginger's hand off their face and looked back to her comrade.

"And I can have all the candy I want?" Red asked.

"Non, non," said Ginger. "We're going to sell it to buy the best ones from Switzerland. You like Swiss chocolates, don't you?"

"Of course! Grandma says that Swiss virgins can lactate all kinds of chocolates from their nipples!"

"I wonder if the glass slipper fragments are really your brain. Anyway, we got to find a way to steal the formula or at least a sample."

Something prickled Ginger's neck. She reached over to touch it, and then heard the buzz of an insect. Annoyed, she tried to swat it, but instead she slaps Red in the face.

"Did you get the fly?" Red asked.

"No I didn't."

Just for kicks, Ginger repeatedly slapped Red. The fly was long gone already.

With the slapping sonata finished, Red and Ginger reached a wall and climbed into another ventilation shaft. They crawled and crawled until by chance they reached the cafeteria. From their vantage point, they saw past the grate Becky fanning a dazed and dizzy Mira with a plastic dinner tray.

"Time to give them the surprise drop," Ginger said.

Becky already knew that they were in the ceiling. Right when Red and Ginger fell through, Becky stepped away to avoid the crash. Red lay sprawled in the yellow-tiled floor, and Ginger landed butt-first onto Mira's face.

"Aw, fuck!" Ginger yelled. "My butt!"

Mira became wet when she heard her favorite phrase. Now she was flaying her limbs up and down struggling to breathe. Yet, she was also happy that Ginger's butt was on her face once again. Being evil as usual, Ginger decided to remain on Mira's face until she nearly suffocated.

"Did you find something interesting?" Becky asked.

"We found the place where they made the candy!" Red answered enthusiastically.

"Um, yeah. Sure you did. We're in a candy factory."

"Confectionary factory Grandma. Confectionary factory."

"Guess what Sis?" Ginger said. "We discovered that Billy is applying an addictive substance to his candy substance! It's called Incrack!"

"Did they register that trademark?" Becky asked.

"I'm not sure, but if it isn't, we'll use it to make our own candy! All we need to do is steal the formula or a sample."

Becky lifted Ginger up and pinched her butt, causing her to yell out her usual expletive again. Mira sat back up gasping for air.

"We'll do that later!" Becky said. "First off, we have to get the money to pay off the debts."

"But why can't we do it now?" whined Ginger.

"Because we don't have our weapons? Plus, we always have to plan for these kind of things."

"Can't you plan it right now?"

"Let me think... I suppose we can."

"All right Sis! Now put me down!"

Becky tossed Ginger into Mira. Ginger once again fell butt-first onto Mira's face. Becky then lifted Red off the floor and sat her next to her by the table.

"Here's the plan," started Becky.

Before she could even go on, a group of twenty Goomba-Moombas filed into the cafeteria with a hateful look. Each of them had on their belts tasers. Each of them had in their hand telescoping batons that they slapped onto their other palm menacingly.

"Mister Bonkura would like you to come with us," said Goomba-Moomba No. 10.

Becky sighed. "I guess we can't steal the Incrack formula," she said.

"So do we get our money?" Ginger asked as Mira fondled her body in an effort to gasp for air.

The Goomba-Moombas ignored the question and slowly surrounded them while advancing. Becky and the girls had no weapons on them or any coats or cloaks they could use as one. They had to fight back with what they have right now.

"Red-chan!" Becky cried.

"Okay Grandma!" Red acknowledged.

Red sprang to her feet with two dinner trays in her hand. She used them to duel against the swarm of Goomba-Moombas. She knocked two of them out and took their batons. She tossed one to Becky who was also fighting against the midgets barehanded. The more they took down, the more weapons acquired from their person.

Red spilled a janitor's bucket and she along with Becky jumped back to avoid the spill. With the electric taser in her hand, Red sent a jolt that struck the other Goomba-Moombas unconscious.

Meanwhile, a scared Ginger leapt off Mira's face and backed away to a corner with four Goomba-Moombas chasing her. The four midgets ignored Mira and surrounded Ginger.

"It's payback time," grinned the brown-stained Goomba-Moomba No. 1.

Suddenly a flying chair struck No. 1 down to the ground. Ginger looked past the other Goomba-Moombas and saw Mira back on her feet and very angry.

"Leave her alone," Mira growled.

"Get her!" screamed No. 1.

The other three charged at Mira and overtook her by shocking her repeatedly with their electric tasers. Mira screamed and started to fall to the ground. Then the Goomba-Moombas started to beat her senseless with their batons.

Then suddenly, Ginger lifted all three of them up like helpless puppies.

"I fucking hate gay Swedish midgets," she said.

"We're not gay, and we're not Swedish!"


With one loud grunt, Ginger tossed all three Goomba-Moombas straight into Becky and Red, who were then knocked down. Goomba-Moomba No. 1 got back up and charged at Ginger with his baton swinging. Ginger caught his arm, smiled, and then threw him into the kitchen.

Eventually, Becky and Red beat up the remaining Goomba-Moombas. Everyone started to take a short breather.

"Fucking dwarves," said Ginger as she brushed her hands.

Mira leapt to her feet and hugged Ginger very happily.

"Oh, you are so cool Ginger!" she cried. "Thank you for saving me!"

Ginger pushed her away and then slapped her across the face.

"You suck," said Ginger. "You are useless!"

The harsh words pierced her heart. Ginger was right. Mira could not do anything to save her like she had always wanted. So she staggered back in a hurtful daze and landed her butt into a chair.

"I'm so sorry," she lamented. "I failed in protecting you, thus forcing you to defend yourself. Will you ever forgive me?"

Mira looked up and saw that, besides the unconscious bodies of the Goombas-Moombas, she was alone.

"Hey Mira!" Becky yelled from the entrance. "We gotta go!"

"Oh, right!"

"Jeez girlfriend," said Ginger, "you've got to stop spacing out like that."

Mira joined up with the rest of the comrades in their frantic run out of the cafeteria and down the maze-like hallways. They followed Becky through the gift shop storage room and into the massive two-story gift-shop itself. Though closed, the shop was ready to open and sell its wares of t-shirts, stuffed mascot characters, postcards, and all sorts of useless crap guests and tourists will give to their relatives or shelve inside their cabinets and closets for years to come.

"Red-chan, wait!" Becky cried.

Red parted from the group so she could search for candy at the candy parlor there was none.

"There's no candy!" she cried.

"Baka-Red-chan," said Becky as she caught up to her. "Of course there isn't. They need to add the Incrack ingredient before they could sell it."

The lights of the gift shop flashed on. Mira and Ginger joined with Becky and Red inside the candy parlor in the middle of the shop. The shutter doors of the front were raised open. The glass doors burst open as about a hundred Goomba-Moombas dressed in camouflage marched in on foot or on electric bicycles. This time, they were armed with combat knives and handguns. The girls were now surrounded.

"Oh, fuck," Ginger said as she wet herself with the urine of fear. "Of all the times we are without our weapons."

"Ginger, stay behind me," said Mira.

"Um, yeah. 'Cause you're my shield, right?"

"Right. Oh, and Ginger."


"There's something I've been meaning to tell you..."

Then a trash bag full of hard and soft items struck Mira's head, and it was the hard part that made her clutch her head and curse in her native language of Urdu.

"You really should teach me Urdu swear words someday," said Becky.

"Swag!" Ginger yelled.

She ripped open the bag and procured a mystical katana, some pistols, poison darts, some coats, shoes, wallets, credit cards, and a red hood.

"Look this junk I now have!" Ginger cried out.

"Um, those are ours," said Becky.

"Finders keepers! They're mine!"

The Goomba-Moombas cocked their guns and took aim. Ginger was then reminded of her cowardice and then handed to Becky her Shinseiki and her throwing knives.

"But I guess I could let you borrow them just for today," she said.

"That's what I thought," grinned Becky as she unsheathed her sword.

Everyone dressed back into their confiscated articles and equipped their usual weapons on them (if you count Ginger's laptop computer as a weapon). From then on, Becky, Red, and Mira went on to completely slaughter the hundred Goomba-Moombas partly due to the fact that there was no candy and the fact they did not get their cash prize yet.

Once they finished killing, Becky sheathed her sword after wiping the blood with a souvenir t-shirt. Ginger searched the midget's bodies for cash and jewelry while she prowled the gift shop for any souvenir she could sell on eBay. Nothing was worth salvaging, so she decided to light a pile of Bonkura Bisons stuffed animals on fire on a pile of dead Goomba-Moombas.

"Come to think of it," said Mira, "who threw us down our stuff?"

"Up here!" cried a voice.

Standing by the railing of the second floor was Gerald Bonkura.

"Shoot him!" Ginger yelled.

Mira and Red shot their guns at him. Gerald dropped the floor cowering.

"Don't shoot!" he said. "I'm here to help!"

"Stop the shooting!" Ginger yelled.

The girls went up one of the two curving stairwells to the second floor and surrounded Gerald.

"Thank goodness," said Gerald. "Now that you're on my side..."

"Like hell," said Becky. "You don't know how pissed we are today."

"Let's beat him up!" Ginger cried.

"What?" cried Gerald.

The girls commenced beating on poor Gerald. Once he bled, they stripped him to his underwear and tied his hands together.

"Why me?" Gerald wept.

"Shall I inject him with an enema dart?" Mira asked. "Or how about the P-Scratcher?"

"Do both!' Ginger cheered.

"Listen to me!" Gerald cried. "You have to stop my brother! He's going to distribute the most addictive food product ever mass-marketed to the whole world!"

"Of course we are! We don't want him to infringe on our business of doing the same thing!"

"And we want the money!" Becky yelled.

They heard something creak above them. The large neon Billy Bonkura logo sign rattled from small to dangerous. The girls and Gerald ran out of the way before the sign could crash on them.

"You're trying to suicide attack us!" Ginger cried.

"That was not my intention!" Gerald yelled back. "Look!"

He pointed down to the gift shop entrance where three chic-dressed teenage Englanders stood. In the middle was Matilde with the ravenous and snarling beast-like Chuck Buck at her right and the young entomologist Jimmy Heathrow at her left.

"Oh shit," said Becky.

"Oh shit?" repeated Ginger. "Oh shit? Who are those three?"

"Chuck-Buck the Beast, Matilde the Secondary-Mover, and Jimmy, Master of Insects."

"Rebecca Maryland Wolfe," smiled Matilde as she floated off the ground through her telekinesis. "What a surprise you'd be here."

"You heard of these tea-drinkers?" Ginger asked.

"So now you three are working for Billy Bonkura," said Becky.

"All because what you did to Polly Flinders," said Matilde.

"That was an accident."

"Anyway, you were lucky that we were on assignment in the U.S., or otherwise we would have been a challenge when you and the Muffin Woman took out Robin Redbreast."

"We've been itching to defeat the Assassin-Saint," said Jimmy as his precious bugs lifted him off the air as if he was sitting on a chair.

"KILL OLDE WOLFE-EARS!" snarled Chuck as landed on all fours on the candy display case.

Jimmy shot his hand in the air. "Come my precious hornets!" he cried.

Hornets suddenly poured from the air vents of the gift shop. The girls and the half-naked Gerald fled to the back of the second floor.

"Stand behind me," said Mira. "Red, on the count of three, I want you to throw your grenade."

Mira fumbled through her large purse and procured one of her gas pistols and loaded up a poison shell inside the chamber.

"THREE!" Mira cried.

Red pulled the pin from her grenade and threw the explosive into the air as the swarm began to close in on them. Mira fired her poison shell bullet into the ceiling. Both devices exploded and sent the hornets scurrying away.

The smoke blew down towards Matilde, Jimmy, and Chuck. Matilde waved her hand to deflect the poisonous smoke that killed Jimmy's hornets. As the smoke cleared, Jimmy and Matilde floated to second floor, while Chuck leapt like a beast from the stair railings and landed between them.

"Those bitches," growled Jimmy. "How dare they do this?"

Matilde cleared the entire second floor away of everything, including the product shelves and racks. The girls had disappeared at the employee access door off to the side. Matilde shook it with her powers, and realized it had been barricaded from the inside.

"Help me rip it apart," she said.

The entire factory was a maze, but at least Gerald knew where he was going. They had to keep on running. Jimmy's flies had broken past the cracks of the doorway they had just blocked. They decided to get on a speedboat of the interior river system, which turned out to be an aboveground sewage treatment plant that was shut down a long time ago. Billy had conveniently built the factory over it in an effort to make creative use of a new type of candy processing.

Ginger threw out the two Goomba-Moombas that were on standby on the boat, but she could not drive it as Becky pushed her butt to the deck. Becky started the boat as per Gerald's directions.

"Right now, my brother is about to experiment on the other contestants and their parents in Section Z," he said.

The girls glared back at Gerald.

"Look, it's important that we save them!" he cried.

"Why the fuck are you still in your underwear?" Ginger asked.

"Hentai," said Becky.

"Pervert!" Red said.

"You're the ones who stripped me in the first place," said Gerald.

"Enough of your excuses!" Ginger yelled.

They were suddenly shot at. Gerald and Ginger dropped down to the ground cowering. They turned around and saw a speedboat full of four armed Goomba-Moombas on their trail. They passed by two tunnels, and two more similar speedboats appeared. Then another speedboat appeared ahead. The girls were surrounded.

"Mira take the wheel!" Becky yelled.

"Why can't I?" Ginger asked.

Another bullet flew past Ginger's head, and it caused her to squeal and shake. There was no need to remind her why she couldn't drive.

The enemy speedboats had machineguns mounted on them. Red stayed on her group's boat to cover for Becky as leapt to the other boats hacking away at the Goomba-Moombas with her Shinseiki and throwing knives. She to

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