Chapter 18 - The Spoon and the Dish came out of the Cupboard (and ran away)
It seemed like they campaigned the American Dream as if it was a product that one would buy using hard-eared money coming from a white-collar cubicle job. Yet even though Jonathan Dish had a job comparable to it, he was missing one component of it.
Kids.
Through and through whenever he got home, his wife Patrice Dish would eventually nag him about when they would be having one hot night of hetero-sex, but her ulterior motive was to become pregnant through traditional means like all other good wives in the United States. She was getting desperate not because her biological clock was ticking, but she was laughed behind her back by other (desperate) housewives who had kids they took to sports games and picked up from school. She also wanted to become a part of the Sports Mom Syndicate, which had to banish the soccer subgroup after the embarrassment they "suffered" from the Muffin Woman, Kitty Muffet.
Tonight however, Dish came home to a seemingly quiet house. The lights were all off save for the dull lamp in the master bedroom. As he advanced he began to the squeaks of a mattress, the bumping of the bed frame, the slapping of skin, and the noises of two strangers. Slowly he advanced, and the noises became louder. He peered through the crack in the door and saw his wife underneath a man who looked like the handsome Canadian-Quebec hockey instructor the wives were talking about.
He stepped back. Dish was surprised but he didn't feel anger or jealousy. He simply felt nothing. It was the lack of feeling he dished out to his wife ever since they got married on the recommendation of his father and the late John Fork.
Eagerly, Dish and Spoon met up at their favorite diner for their breakfast swapping stories complete with gory detail on the cleanup of Complex 17 and how fellow agent Chandra Plate freaked out when HLS kept on shagging the other female hounds at the kennel, for she was now in charge in "interrogating" and walking HLS.
"To think they actually made dildos for lesbian dogs," joked Patrick Spoon. "Wonder if they make vibrators for them as well, though I wonder how they would know how to operate it let alone change the batteries. Those pets must be really smart to use sex toys for themselves."
"I see," said Dish.
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"Your wife again?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe you can divorce her now that Fork is gone."
"Then there remains my father."
"A Conservative Catholic. How does that work?"
"My family is not entirely Irish, Spanish, Italian, or anything. I heard that my great-grandfather claimed that he converted in effort to return to the true Christian religion."
"Maybe he got fed up with the divisiveness of Protestantism, though I heard there are rumors of a renewed hostilities between the Vatican and the Church of England."
"Is that so?"
"You think it's about time we talk to the girl?"
"Of course. We can't waste anymore time."
The two agents headed over the juvenile detention center. It was located smack in the middle of city inside a seemingly plain building complex. Though on the outside it was labeled officially as an ordinary juvenile detention, this one was for the most dangerous of children under eighteen, hence it earned the nickname "Satan's Nursery". It held the likes of the Dickens Thieves (Pip, Oliver Twist, Artful Dodger, and Tiny Tim), those four kids from South Park (Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick, and Eric Cartman), the kids from Mystery Inc. (taken in after the Battle of the Mystery-Solving Bands[i] caper, which Becky and her gang were involved in), the Kids Next Door (reportedly possessing weapons of massive fun and destruction), Doug (charged with lewdness after running around as half-naked in his Quailman alter-ego in front of Patricia "Patti" Mayonnaise), and Anna Leichra (too horrifying to mention). With the exception of Leichra, Becky and her gang who put them all behind bars before their cabin was raided by the FBI, and with Red sharing the building with them, they wanted her blood. Red's presence was the sole unifier of the inmates, for there were always fights and riots whether it was based on age (teenagers versus adolescents), gender (girls versus boys), or Cartman. (Okay, enough with the paren-theses!)
Dish and Spoon met fellow agents Plate, Bowl, and Knife in the front lobby, while the docile HLS was left to the guard. All five agents were deathly afraid to go into Satan's Nursery because almost always they would get insulted, spat at, or bruised by one of them. It was a hotbed of prepubescent evil, and ironically the only child they could manage to stand was the seemingly innocent Red.
Red was hauled into the interrogation room in chains and handcuffs, and she was dressed in the standard bright red prison uniform. Plate, Bowl, and Knife stood behind the one-way mirror and watched as Spoon and Dish went in the interrogation room. There was one piece of Spree candy on a plate in the middle of the table.
Dish sat down. "Here, you can have that."
"I can?" Red said. With her bound hands she picked up the Spree and ate it.
Dish pulled out a bag of Spree and showed it to her.
"If you finish with the interrogation without a fuss, I will give you the whole bag," he said.
"I want to get out," said Red. "Not candy."
Dish opened the bag and emptied it onto the plate. Red did not move to eat some more.
"I do have more than one bag," said Dish.
"My friends and my lover are in trouble," said Red.
"You're not getting anywhere. You're wanted for a number of thefts, fraud, and even murder. Not to mention illegal drug trafficking, gun possession, and lewdness on the account of your lesbian dog."
"Tribade."
"Whatever. Since you're here, we'd like to get as much data on you in this session."
"If I tell you, you'll be in great danger. Even having me here is enough to attract her."
"Who?"
"You-know-who."
"Lord Voldemort?" asked Spoon.
"Hush," said Dish.
"Sorry."
Dish turned back towards Red. "Despite how this place looks, where in a very secure place. No one can get in or out without great effort. In your case, we really have to shackle and weigh you down. Since you're biding your time here, why not tell us who you really are and what your story is."
Red sighed. "Okay. But I'm only doing this to accelerate my release."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I shall begin. I am known as Red Little, but my real name is Cindi Ella. From all I could remember, I lived with my father, who was a high-ranking member of the Athens mafia, until he married Celeste Ella, a fallen master of Shaolin Martial Arts. From then on, I became a sister to her two daughters: the eldest being Charlotte Ella, the most dangerous markswoman in the world, and the youngest being Cecilia Ella, the most dangerous ninjitsu practicioner. Shortly after he was killed during a shoot-out, I was raised by the Ellas from the age of three."
"Do we have a file on the Ellas?" Spoon asked.
"A few," said Dish. "Miss Little--if that is what you wish to be called--what was life with the Ellas?"
"The harshest imaginable. I was put through intense assassin training to the point where almost all my bones were broken at the age of five. At least Charlotte was kinder than my foster mother and Cecilia. Cecilia despised me since I was paid more attention to her. I didn't realize what made her so angry when a woman named Martha Güse told me that I'll be her daughter's future wife. I was scared of her daughter, Darryl, so at the age five or six, I escaped from my family during my first job. I was wounded in battle with them while escaping with the half of my glass slipper to America where I developed amnesia. I was adopted by the Littles and put to work for their drug business."
"Glass slipper," Spoon muttered. "Darryl Güse. Those are familiar."
"Do you know why the glass slipper is so important?" Dish asked.
"I heard it was the key to reviving the nation of Tribadia that was lost in the Aegean Sea."
"And Darryl; do you know more about her?"
Red shrunk into herself and shuddered.
"All I know is that she is very powerful," she said. "And evil."
"We wouldn't happen to have a picture on her, would we?" Dish asked Spoon.
"We have nothing on her," said Spoon. "It seems as if she doesn't exist."
"With Fork dead, I don't have any leads."
"You know about Güse?" Red asked.
"I wish. Not that I am implying anything, mind you. It's just that I felt the same way as you when I saw her and her goons. There was a stalwart yet menacing ambition in her eyes."
"So Miss Little," asked Spoon. "Do you know what happened to your friends back at Complex 17?"
"They were taken by my foster family," said Red.
"We don't have any evidence," said Dish.
"And the security cameras were hacked," said Spoon.
"Charlotte said that they took her to the Death Spindle," added Red.
"The Death Spindle... Sounds familiar."
"We'll look it up," said Dish as he got up from his seat.
"Then will you release me?" asked Red.
"Unfortunately no. It's a bit complicated with your situation. In one end you're a key witness to that slaughter at the complex, and in the other you're a juvenile criminal about to turn eighteen. Though it is highly likely you'll be tried as an adult anyway with your record."
"Sorry girl," said Spoon. "We can't do anything at the moment. But we could let you see your dog."
"Thanks," said Red.
Before Dish and the other agents left, they were present when Red petted and talked to HLS for less than ten minutes before she was taken back to her cell. The agents and HLS on a leash walked outside towards the parking lot down the street.
"I had a bad feeling about this," said Bowl.
"Me too," said Knife. "After hearing her testimony, I feel as if my life is now cut short."
"You shouldn't let it get to you," said Dish. "In our field, our chances of dying are higher than normal people."
"If Darryl Güse is involved," said Plate, "then maybe she can shed some light on Molly's betrayal."
"But should we be working on this case after what happened back there?" asked Bowl. "Güse may have spies everywhere! Even we could be spies ourselves!"
"That is a possibility," said Dish.
"That's not helping," said Knife.
"If it turns out that way, then we simply have to react to it. The paranoia that your friend or your loved one is the enemy is what eventually divides us apart. After that, we are taken over by the actual enemy in question."
"So what do we do?" asked Spoon.
Dish looked around for anyone eavesdropping, but then again it was pointless to whisper.
"All five of us..." he started.
"Arf!" barked HLS.
"HLS wants to be counted in," said Plate.
"Fine," said Dish. "All six of us will keep a little pact to ourselves. If something happens, we report only to each other. Got that?"
Included HLS, the agents nodded.
"But we still have our assignment in finding the ones who slaughtered our agents in Complex 17," said Knife.
"We do," said Dish. "Güse is at the bottom this."
They all parted with a little more worry than usual. Spoon gave HLS one more pet before she walked off with Plate.
"That dog is so nice," Spoon smiled.
"Not during her capture," said Dish.
"That's only because you tried to take that prosthetic nose from her collar."
"That's another mystery in itself. Why is she so attached to it?"
"A prosthetic nose. I wonder..."
That reminded Spoon of a song, instead of something they should have done at the end of chapter four and at the beginning of chapter five...
I like big butts and I can not lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty-bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung...[ii]
"Man, I like that song," Spoon smiled.
"Hurry up and get in!" Dish yelled from the car.
"Coming!"
Spoon leapt into the passenger seat, and Dish finally drove the car off.
"What's the rush?" Spoon asked.
"I going to see Assistant Director Dish," said Dish.
"Your dad?"
"Yeah."
"To give him the report?"
"...no. I don't want him involved in our affairs."
"I see. It's not some goodbye is it?"
"No, but I still have to check up on him. He's still shaken up about Fork's death."
"I see. Jonathan."
"What is it?"
"Can I come over to your house for once?"
"You've already been there."
"I have, but I didn't go in as in look in your room or even had a meal there."
"My wife is a little edgy as of late."
"You're always embarrassed about your wife. Relax Jonathan. I'm sure I can survive her attacks."
"That makes me not want to invite you."
"I'm coming over for dinner at six. Go see your dad and prepare for my arrival."
"Okay then."
The appointed hour of the day was quickly closing in. Dish was getting dressed while frantically cleaning the house. His wife was not around so he had to do the cooking. He never felt so stressed in his entire career.
Then the doorbell rang. With his heart beating, Dish ran straight from the kitchen and threw the apron off him as he answered the door. Standing there was his wife.
"I told you before to fix the lock!" said Patrice as she entered in a huff.
"The lock's broken?" Dish asked.
"You didn't know?"
"I've been out a lot."
"Of course I know."
Dish had told Patrice that Spoon was coming over, so she had to leave early from the Homemaker Internet Stock Trader seminar that was being held at the church. She applied the finishing touches on the Dish's hasty cooking until the clock struck six. However, the doorbell did not ring five minutes after.
Patrice answered the door, and there stood Spoon dressed sharply as if he was on a date. He had a bouquet of purple roses in his hand.
"Why hello Patrick!" greeted Patrice.
"Hello Patrice," said Spoon. "Good to see you--a second time."
Spoon kissed her hand and gave her the bouquet. Patrice accepted it with a feigned smile. She didn't like purple roses, so she tried to store it off sight.
"What are you doing with that?" Dish asked. "Put in the vase we have here."
"It won't fit," said Patrice.
"Sure it will. It takes a little effort though."
The purple roses were set in place. The dinner began after a short prayer of grace. It was mostly filled with silence and wine until Patrice spoke up.
"I hear that there is a girl named Red Little held up at Satan's Nursery," said Patrice.
Spoon gulped. Dish kept his cool and turned towards her.
"She's there," he said. "Although we really shouldn't be talking about it, especially during dinner."
"I'd like to talk about it now," she said, "while you're here honey. Besides, my tax dollars pay for your operations."
"You mean his tax dollars," said Spoon. "Although it's odd to say that since he's paying a bit of his salary back to the IRS."
"Of course," said Patrice. "Anyway, that girl and her friends were involved in turning the members of the Soccer Mom Association bisexual, and worse: democrat and liberal. They used to be Sports Mom Association's most powerful sub-groups!"
"So what does that have to involve Red Little?" asked Dish. "Do they want revenge?"
"More like justice."
"That's irrelevant to the crimes she had committed. Just thankful that she is being punished."
After dinner as well as desert, Spoon was finally given a tour of the house by Patrice, whom Dish found to be hesitant.
"Small and quaint," said Spoon as he exited the master bedroom.
"Sorry about the storage room," said Patrice. "Dish and I have been dumping our stuff there. If we had a child though..."
"After all these years you don't have one Jonathan?"
"Just didn't have time," replied Jonathan.
"That's too bad. Ah, I have to go the bathroom."
"By our guest," said Patrice.
Spoon locked himself in, but he didn't come out for a while. He was grunting, and things fell into the toilet bowl.
"Are you okay?" Patrice asked.
"I'm okay!" Spoon cried out.
"I hope it's not the food."
"Of course not! It must be the breakfast Jonathan and I hang out at almost every morning."
"Oh."
"I might be here for a while. You two... do your thing. Wink-wink."
"Yes, we will." She turned to Dish and smiled. "Shall we?"
"Sure," said Dish.
Dish found himself being led away almost by force by his wife away from the bathroom and to the laundry next to the garage.
"So you want to do it now?" Dish asked.
"And give that queer his satisfaction?" Patrice hissed.
"What? I can't believe you said that."
"Aren't you blind? That man has homo written all over him."
"Either I've never noticed or that he simply does not exude it. I am certain that Patrick Spoon is not a homosexual. I mean, he just had sex with Chandra Plate."
"Honey, how long have you been working with him? Six years? Tell me straight, did you have any feelings for him?"
"In that way, no. Sure he's a bit of a goof-off, but he's a good, honorable, and a dependable man."
"Is he still going out with Plate?"
"It was just a one time deal."
"So he doesn't have a stable girlfriend or something?"
"Of course not! Patrice, let's stop talking about this before you embarrass me."
"I'm just worried about you, that's all. I think we're drifting apart."
Dish frowned. "Do you want to get a divorce?"
"As if we could. I had to give up being a Protestant to be a Catholic, and I'm not switching back. What would the others think if we did? We'd be the laughing stock of our church!"
Dish sighed. The toilet flushed. Dish and his wife mustered back their composure and went back to meet Spoon with smiling faces. Spoon decided to leave, and Patrice gave him a gift of cheesecake for him to take home.
This would be a point where Dish would force himself on a receptive Patrice, but today he could not bear to be dirtied by her, and it seemed as if she read his mind. None of them talked when they went to bed together, and they lay far from each other hoping that they would not come into physical contact. To make sure that would not arise, Dish quietly moved himself to the couch in the living room. Though the sheets were changed on his bed, he could not erase the creeping uncleanliness his wife and her secret lover had created.
In the next morning, he went back to find her missing. Dish felt pretty glad that he wouldn't have to endure her presence any longer. Most likely she was with the hockey instructor.
The animal control kennel of the FBI served triple purposes of holding strays, criminal dogs and cats, and possible witnesses. Despite its plain operation, it was visiting many times by collectors of special pets or those looking for the perfect guard dog. Sometimes corrupt deals where the handlers knowingly or unknowingly sold criminal pets, and sometimes the special witness pets were silenced very subtly through chocolate ingestion.
Oddly enough, the guard dogs of the kennel were the canine inmates themselves.
It was barely daybreak, and Plate wandered yawning and showing off her badge to the middle-aged and fat female guard.
"Walking her again I take it?" asked the guard.
"I just had to grow attached to her," said Plate. "I heard Ellen DeGeneres came by."
"Oh yes she did. She wanted to buy that lesbian dog."
"I see."
"Oh, and I heard Rosie's in town. She also wants that dog."
"God, what's with these lesbians wanting lesbian pets?"
The guard secretly slipped Plate the key. Then Plate walked down the hall where dogs either yelped or looked at her. At the proverbial kennel 69, she spotted HLS. HLS was wagging her tail very happily as she had become very attached to her temporary caretaker.
"How are you dong HLS?" asked Plate. She took out from her purse a strap-on custom-fitted for Doberman-Pinchers. HLS whined.
"I'm sorry, but they were sold out of doubles. I promise that I'll get you a triple someday."
"Arf!" said HLS.
"Unfortunately that might be cut short. There are people who want to buy you just because of your sexual orientation. I'm sure that girl will be sad that you will leave her, but perhaps it's for the best."
Plate unlocked the door and HLS walked out. After putting the black leather leash, she heard the guard scream. Plate looked back at the booth and saw blood.
The gate swung open. Stepping out of the booth was a large and menacing dog with a bloodied mouth. But what was more menacing was the pink scarf it had around his neck.
"Good Sparky," said a boy. "That's a good boy."
A boy emerged from the booth dressed in a brown coat with red lining and jeans. He petted the dog, and then smiled back at Plate with malice.
"All radio networks has been jammed Stan," said another boy. He emerged from another hallway dressed in an orange jacket.
"That's good Kyle," said the boy named Stan, who was the owner of Sparky the Gay Dog.
"Fucking feddys fucked my pussy and piggy," said an obese boy who emerged from the cat and miscellaneous kennels accompanied by a very evil female transvestite cat named Mister Kitty and a large, hairy, and rabid pig named Fluffy, who was mistaken for a bulldog.
Then another boy emerged from the vents above them in an orange hooded parka so tightly wrapped around his face that his eyes could only be seen. The mumbled something that made the other boys laugh out loud.
"Oh yeah," said Kyle. "She looks like a fag hag."
"Hey, I am not a fag hag!" Plate cried out.
"You sure do look like it," said Eric Cartman.
"Hey lady," said Stan. "You might want to give that dog to us."
"It's for revenge for putting us in juvie," said Stan.
"You kids," said Plate. "You must be the ones Wolfe-ears and her group captured."
HLS was growling. However all the other dogs, including the most dangerous ones, shrank away to their corner in their separate cells. It just so happens that all the rest of the impounded dogs were male and straight, and were deathly afraid of Sparky.
Plate drew out her gun. "Who let you out?"
"What, you're going to shoot a kid?" Kyle asked. "You can't do that! You're an adult!"
"Shut up! I'll shoot you because you brats are so dangerous! Committing fraud by mislabeling your parents as child molesters and then taking over the entire town. But it wasn't enough. You just had to start up a 'tooth-fairy' cartel that left untold number of innocent children dead!"
"We had to do it because they were about to ground us!" cried Stan.
"Plus we needed the money!" cried Kyle.
"To get Britney Spears to wash my balls!" Cartman added.
Kenny mumbled something, but it wasn't important anyway. Probably just another dirty joke.
"Oh please!" Plate cried.
"Let's kick her in the nuts!" Cartman yelled.
"HLS! Let's go!"
"Arf!" said HLS.
"After them!" cried Stan.
The dog, the cat, and the pig charged at the fleeing Plate and HLS, while the boys drew out their guns and fired. Plate and HLS missed the gunfire by turning a corner to the outdoor field. There, they both hid and barricaded themselves inside. The doors rumbled as the boys' pets scratched and banged on it.
HLS stood her ground whilst growling, and Plate leaned against the wall counting her bullet and her time. She needed to get out and warn the others.
Then suddenly, the rumble of the door stopped. It now became too quiet. HLS sniffed and sniffed, and Plate cocked her gun. After a while, there was a rumble much bigger and shook the entire tool shed.
The wall collapsed from behind her. Plate rolled out of the way and fired two shots. She got a better look and saw a drooling monstrous werewolf-like creature, but it looked like a spotted Great Dane standing on its hind legs like a human.
"R'URDER!" bellowed the were-Dane. "R'EATH! R'ILL!"
"Oh, dear God," gasped Plate. "I thought they put you to sleep!"
The were-Dane had a blue collar wit a gold diamond-shaped tag that had an S and a D. The collar was connected by a black carbon composite chain, and holding it was a small creature riding on the were-Dane's back. The creature was very hideous, even if its upper half of the top of his head was burned. He too was a Great Dane, but grossly imp-sized. He also had a blue collar with gold tag that had an S and a D. He snickered and smiled his dagger-like teeth.
"Ta-ta-ta-da-daaa!" trumpeted the imp-Dane. "Puppy pow--BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF THAT CUNT UNCLE SCOOBY!"
"RIGHT R'APPY!"
Plate did not know what was creepier: the demonic attributes of the two dogs who supposedly ate the legendary Person-Person Fruit[iii] that turned animals into human-like creatures, the fact they were talking, or the fact they weren't wearing any clothes, hence their genitals were flapping before her very eyes (also the cursed Fruits made Scooby blood-thirsty and murderous and it made Scrappy become afflicted with Tourrette's Syndrome). There was no time to think as Scooby ran and hammer-fisted towards Plate and broke a nearby table. HLS jumped in and bit into monster Scooby's neck in an attempt to fight against him.
"HLS!" Plate screamed.
Would HLS have told her to move one? That was what's on Plate's mind as she escaped the tool shed. Suddenly Fluffy the hairy pig rammed into her and knocked her down. She got back up, fire two shots into the pig only to encounter the lunging Sparky and Mister Kitty, which she pistol-whipped and sent them into a nearby garbage bin.
"Leave Sparky alone!" cried Stan.
The Good ol' South Park Boys fired their guns, but their firing was too amateurish. Plate shot Stan and Kyle in the legs, and they both fell down crying. She also shot Kenny dead in the dead, but fired three shots more to make sure he was dead. But when she shot Cartman, the bullets simply bounced off as if he was the human blob.
"Ha, ha," gloated Cartman. "It seems that your weak bullets have no effect on me."
Then she kicked him in the balls. Cartman fell to the ground crying.
"Fat ass," said Plate. With her enemies down, she escaped the kennel hoping that HLS will be all right.
But where would she go first? Whatever the boys did, Plate could not use her cell phone, and the pay phones were dead as well. The only place she could think of that was close by was Spoon's apartment, for she knew all the secret routes to that place after stalking him almost constantly.
She arrived after a fifteen-minute jog. Once there, she banged on the front door until Spoon arrived right behind her after his exercise jog.
"Chandra," said Spoon. "Is something wrong?"
Spoon was sweaty, and seeing him made her very hot.
"Oh, Patrick!" Plate cried. "I'm so glad that--"
She accidentally knocked her unconscious by head-butting him.
"OH MY GOD!"
Plate searched his body while resisting the temptation to grope him. There were no keys on him, and she even searched under his testicles and inside his butt-cleavage. Fortunately, she found it underneath the doormat. Plate pulled him inside and threw him onto his bed. There, she prepared a cloth for his bleeding head and some coffee.
The phones were still dead even in Spoon's apartment. Plate could do nothing but wait until Spoon regained consciousness. So she took the opportunity to rummage through his place, which was as bachelor as it could be, but it was relatively clean. She smirked at the sight of pornographic magazines situated on the coffee table and the drawer stands inside the living room. In her mind, Spoon was indeed straight.
Yet something was odd. The magazines were old, and there were sporadic issues from 1989 to 1994.
"So he's not a subscriber," Plate winced. "I guess he now gets his stuff on the Internet."
He went into his office, which was a bit messy but professional. The computer he had had a password lock, so she could not get in. So she then searched through the desk drawers for porn videos or more magazines but found none. However, she found on his bookshelf a row of Japanese comic books, or manga. She picked one out along with an accompanying booklet that served as a translation for the manga. The title she read was Zetsuai[iv].
"How pretty," she said. Plate flipped through a few pages, and upon reaching the first sex scene--between men no less--her jaw dropped. Just then, a shirtless and Spoon smacked the book from her hands.
"Patrick!" Plate cried.
"You saw it, didn't you?" he asked. "Then you must know..."
Plate looked away, trying to avoid the answer. Spoon then picked up the manga book and placed back on his bookshelf.
"Know what?" said Plate, nervously. "It guess you're only reading it for the story, right? It's not like it's all sex."
Spoon walked away to the kitchen, and Plate followed. He then served her and himself coffee Plate had prepared.
"I'm sorry that I came on to you," said Plate.
"Nah, I think it was the fake Viagra pill I accidentally took back then," he said. "Or perhaps I was frustrated."
"Frustrated with what? Don't tell me you and Dish..."
Spoon grinned. "No, I don't have a crush with the Assistant Director Joseph Dish."
"So it's the son."
"Bingo."
"How long has this been going on?"
"Since a year after I partnered up with Jonathan."
"I see."
"So why are you here? Are we in danger?"
"Indeed. The kennel was attacked by the Good ol' South Park Boys and their pets. They've also released Scooby and Scrappy Doo!"
"They did? I thought they were put to sleep."
"Apparently they kept the insane Danes hidden for some purpose."
"I suspected this would happen."
"I know they were after HLS, but she fought the mutant Danes so I could escape."
"Then we have no time to lose. We have to contact the others and tell them to get Red Little out of the detention center."
"Patrick, the phones are down."
"They are what? Then we'll use the radios."
Spoon quickly got dressed. He and Plate radioed the others only to discover that the Satan's Nursery was taken over by the crazed inmates and were now holding someone hostage. It was likely that Dish, Bowl, and Knife would be there.
When they drove there, the scene was a disaster. The streets were on fire, cars were turned over, and many FBI agents were wounded. Dish, Bowl, and Knife were there giving orders to other SWAT teams.
"It's a mess!" Knife cried. "Somehow they rigged some bombs they made from soap and other stuff!"
"Those Kids Next Door are like MacGyver[v]," said Bowl. "They can make bombs out of anything!"
"They shot first," said Dish.
"But how can this be?" said Plate. "They may be dangerous and destructive, but they were never in for murder!"
"I think someone's controlling them," said Bowl.
"Perhaps it is," said Dish.
"You said that there was a hostage," said Spoon. "Is it Red Little?"
"It is," said Dish.
Hours before, Red was put into a strait jacket and heavy chain shackles for her breakfast. Once she was carted off into the cafeteria via the "Hannibal Trolley", she saw inside Anna Leichra sat in a rolling leather chair as if was her throne. Surrounding her garbed in their red uniforms were all the other male and female inmates with their eyes dead set on Red for revenge while eating brand-name candy to her dismay. To her right was Nigel Uno, or Numbah One as he was called within the international organization known as the Kids Next Door. To her left was Fred "Freddie" Jones of Mystery Inc., who his gang members refer to him as the "Infernal Ascot".
At the corner were the gagged and bound detention center guards and staff being ruthlessly poked by the cackling children. It was no surprise to Red for she sensed it coming on the day she glared at Leichra's eyes. The nurses beside her weren't the real ones, for they were the lesb--er, tribade lovers Velma Dinkley and Daphne Blake, who removed their latex like masks.
"It's amazing what the KND can do with a little bit of soap and grease," said Velma.
"And now my face stinks," said Daphne.
"Quit yer complainin'," shouted Wally, A.K.A. Numbah Four. "We had to bust our butts in the vents to assemble those disguises!"
"Oh, but who is it that stole and hid those items in the first place?" asked the Artful (Bullet) Dodger of the Dickens gang.
"In any case," said Nigel, "what are we going to do with the other hostages?"
"We kill them of course!" Leichra smiled. The entire cafeteria quieted down.
"Hold on," said Fred. "We're all just teenagers and kids. We don't do those kind of things."
"That's right!" chimed Abigail Lincoln, A.K.A. Numbah Five. "The K.N.D. don't do any K.I.L.L.-ing."
"Please my fellow children," said Leichra, "think of the reason why you're here. Red and her gang busted you bad and sent you this hellhole. You've earned the ire of the Federal Government and have shamed your families and friends. Do you think the world can tolerate us after the Columbine School Shooting? They fear us, and the more they fear us the more they treat us as criminals in the schools that imitate our prisons. Losing our childhood innocence is inevitable whether you like it or not. You should know that in countries of great poverty and constant war children are enlisted to become killers and soldiers.
"So now the die is cast, etc., etc. We must show this corrupt world the effect they have on our minds when we discover the truth. If you'll please, kill the staff."
The others became frightened. Before Leichra's speech, they were all joyous that they rose up against their oppressors. However, to do what they had never done or had only seen in PG and above movies was now unthinkable.
"Haven't we done enough?" said the crippled Tiny Tim, who was leaning on his cane. "I'm sure that the adults would give in."
Leichra sighed. She raised her hand up and threw it down softly.
Suddenly, the inmate boys who were keeping the adult guards and staff at bay with their shotguns killed them all. The boys fell backward shocked at the bloodshed and the sight of death. Children screamed, and some fell to their knees crying. However, Red kept her composure and kept her eyes on Leichra's hands.
"What did you guys do?" asked Tiny Tim.
"We didn't mean to do that!" said one of the shotgun boys. "Something was controlling us!"
Leichra laughed.
"How did you do it Anna?" asked Tiny Tim. "Tell me?"
"Oh ye who was stricken with polio," grinned Leichra. "Do you wish to oppose me?"
"What?"
Tiny Tim's cane dropped as he started choking. He clawed his throat and was now being lifted high into the air and away from the other's reach. Soon, his life gave out, and whatever force lifted him up in the air had now released him. The thud his body created yet another scream from the female inmates.
"Go meet Ebenezer in hell Tim," said Leichra.
"Who are you?" asked pants-wet Wally.
"I'm your fellow inmate, Anna Leichra."
"I knew it," smiled Red. "I guess the Lohengrin family line still survives--Marionettenspieler."
"Oh, so you knew about me? I've been wondering why you kept silent all this time?"
"I just needed a little backup--and candy."
"Backup and candy? Do you think you can convince these fools to go against me? There are more powerful people you know."
"So whose orders are you under?"
"The Aphrodite Evolution of course! I was ordered to be here until all of the glass slipper fragments have been collected, and now that they have been gathered, I've now decided to take my new recruits as well as you Cindi Ella."
"Don't call me that! I'm Red Little!"
"That's not even your real name either. If you want to know your real name, perhaps you should ask Güse. She knows you more than you think."
"Güse knows?"
Just then from the side entrance came a frantic Quailman and Shaggy, who were posted on the roof as lookouts. Shaggy was stoned as usual, and Quailman had his unwashed and soiled underwear outside of this pants as well as a smelly belt wrapped around his head.
"What does your quail eyes see Quailman?" Leichra asked.
"The entire SWAT team has been mobilized," said Quailman.
"Like, they're here to take us down here man!" Shaggy cried. "Oh man, Scooby-Doo, where the fuck are you?"
"At the kennel, remember?" asked Velma. "Fucking dork."
"Gang, this looks pretty bad," said Fred. "I say we should split up our forces and--"
"Oh, shut the fuck up Fred!" yelled Daphne. "Every time we get in a hairy situation you always suggest that we split up and do this and that. Sure I knew the real reason why I always tag along with you, and I thought it would be fun to lose my virginity in the process. But no, shit always happens when we attempt to have sex, like falling through trap doors, rust slides, spiders, bats, getting hunted down by a chainsaw-wielding southern hick, and the Octopus Man-Monster--oh, let's not get started on that!"
All eyes were on Daphne as she vented out. She caught her breath, and then said, "Sorry, I just needed to get that out."
Fred bit his lip and thought for a moment on what to say other than "let's split up," and the irony of that was after many years of dating he and Daphne did split up and started dating Velma.
"Actually, I don't have any further ideas," said Fred. "What about you Nigel?"
"I don't either," said the bald-headed boy.
"Since I'm the one obviously in control, then listen up," started Leichra. "The KND team will manufacture weapons and explosives from what we have right now. I don't care what you make; it just has to be potent enough to kill a man. The weapons will then divided up based on your aptitude, or rather on the crime you had committed that landed you here. The Dickens Thieves will head the frontal assault team, while the KND team will serve as bombardment. Quailman, I'm assigning you and two others as snipers. As for Mystery Inc., you and I will guard Red Little here."
"Miss Leichra, that sounds similar to my idea," said Fred.
"Well, Right-Said-Fred, I'm sorry that I plagiarized."
Daphne and Velma squealed, and then ran over to hug Leichra.
"But your version sounds better!" said Daphne.
"And sexier!" added Velma.
"If you we're just a few years older, I'd be all over you!"
"Me too!"
Fred groaned. He looked to Shaggy for some back up but he was frantically pacing back and forth while eating Cartman's Cheesy Poofs.
"It seems have these two ladies under my loyalty," smiled Leichra. "As for the rest of you, it would be best to follow my orders, or I could force you to do it." She then raised her right hand as if she was holding the part that controls marionettes. "And when I force you to do it, I will make you do it in the most painful way ever."
In fear, the other child inmates complied and quickly set to work in arming themselves and setting up the detention's defenses. In no time, the first wave of FBI SWAT team armed and armored arrived via one land van and two helicopters. The inmates took their post at the front, the windows, and the rooftop.
Velma and Daphne carted Red as they followed Fred, Shaggy, and Anna to the PA room.
"It seems that so far they are sending the ground forces," said Fred.
"What if they send the helicopters?" asked Shaggy.
"I'm sure the rifle the KND team provided Quailman will be sufficient to take them down," said Leichra. "There is a good reason why he wears that smelly belt on his head in that fashion."
Once in the PA room, Leichra gave everyone one more pep talk.
"They are armed to kill," she said. "Don't hesitate to kill them! That's how life is."
There, Leichra and the others sat and waited as the carnage begun. Quailman quickly shot down the helicopters with his super-rifle. The KND bombardment team sent out explosives and Molotov cocktails, while the Dickens Thieves quickly massacred the incoming SWAT with their special abilities. For Dodger, it was the art of dodging bullets. For Oliver Twist was his death-spin tops and his knack of twisting himself as he fought without getting dizzy. As for the seemingly wimpy Pip, he had a fetish of metal and liked beating people down with metal tools such as files and irons.
Reinforcements came, but they only fed to the adolescent fire of the impenetrable fortress that was Satan's Nursery. Now the Feds and the police hid behind ruins of vans of cars in deep fear of this ferocity, and they prayed that the National Guard would arrive soon.
Leichra giggled as her enemies fell before her, and the more she giggled the more Daphne and Velma rubbed against her much to the chagrin of Fred. Shaggy seemed to be in a different place altogether.
"Why aren't you escaping?" Red asked.
"There is one thing I needed to do on behalf of the one who set me free," smiled Leichra.
"Then there's someone else behind this... and it's not Güse at the very least."
"So what do we do now?" Spoon asked.
"If they know we're waiting," said Dish, "then they are already making their escape. Then again, if someone's tipping them off, which was why Plate was attacked, then they should have done so by now. But what's keeping them?"
"They want their mommies?" Knife suggested.
"They should have thought of that before being sent here," said Spoon.
"If we manage to rescue Red," said Dish, "then we could escape via their escape route they have already suggested."
"That still doesn't explain why they are staying around," said Bowl.
"It has to be a trap," said Knife.
"Remaining here would be trap," said Dish. "Letting Red die would be one too, otherwise we'll never solve the mystery of Complex 17. If Plate getting attacked was just a warning, we can expect the next wave to be more serious."
"So you're saying that we become MIA," said Bowl.
"Of course."
"Damn, you are so cool Jonathan!" Spoon cried, arousing Plate's attention.
"Well, I wasn't the leader of our team back at training. Now let's show them how deadly Government 'Utensils' can be!"
The five agents put their hands together in a huddle, pushed them down in a grunt, and broke apart. There would be six, but one of them had betrayed them. Perhaps that was one more motivation to take down Darryl Güse.
They called in the remaining agents and police officers under their wing, and divided into five teams to which they led.
The first step was to divert the attention from the bombers from the second floor through the bombardment of tapioca bombs they quickly scrounged up from the local convenience stores and supermarkets, for the knowledgeable Bowl knew the weakness of the Kids Next Door and their allies--they hated tapioca and anything associated with the elderly. To make sure the kids were really affected, the agents threw in adult diapers they gathered from a nearby nursing home.
The second step was to penetrate the front defenses manned by the formidable Dickens Gang. Knife was the first to charge in and face off against Oliver Twist and his death-tops. Unfortunately, Knife hated knives, and it was one of the phobia that nearly cost him his position within the FBI. However, he had an uncanny of ability of not only to dodge knives, but also to deflect most of them with his own bare skin. With Oliver Twist stunned, Knife and his agents moved in to take him and Pip down with blow to the head.
Though the only one left to defend the front, Dodger proved difficult as dodged from one barrier to another while firing back.
"Knife!" Dish cried. "Throw a knife!"
"I don't have a knife, remember?" Knife said.
"Aren't you a better thrower?" Spoon asked Dish.
"Knife's closer."
"Use this!" Bowl cried out.
Bowl tossed Dish his chained pocket watch.
"Will that do it?"
"It will," smiled Dish.
Dish twirled the pocket watch like King David, and then slid into the middle of the hallway. Dodger stepped out, ready to fire, but then Dish released the watch that then struck Dodger in the forehead, knocking him out cold. As he fell, Dish and the others rushed in past him.
"By the sound of things, Red should be held in the PA room," said Bowl. "But I have a feeling that they have already moved her."
"The security room should be close by," said Dish.
As an expert in intelligence gathering and computer security, Bowl opened all of the barred doors as his teammates defended him. They soon made it past the other downed criminal children up to the second floor where Spoon halted.
A silent bullet struck his feet. He spread out his arms to stop his comrades from rushing up.
"A sniper?" Bowl asked.
"Don't poke your head!" Plate cried. "I'll go in."
"Are you sure about that?" Dish asked.
"Maybe a year off my life will be lost, but I'll be fine."
"Don't get yourself killed."
"I won't."
Spoon stepped aside to let Plate through, who then jumped into the middle of the hallway. Immediately, she was shot in the forehead.
The few agents and officers not close to Dish and his group gasped silently. "How could you have let her do that?" they asked.
At the other end of the hallway, Doug Funnie the Quailman was on his stomach with a sniper rifle built up from a tranquilizer rifle courtesy of the Kids Next Door.
"Did you get her?" asked Wally.
"Oh yes I did," smiled Quailman.
"What a bunch stupid fools! They'll never get past this point!"
Then Quailman noticed something moving discreetly. He squinted his eyes and saw that Plate's left hand was giving signals.
"She's not dead!" he yelled.
Before he could fire again, Dish, Spoon, Knife, and Bowl appeared and fired. Quailman's shoulders were shot, and he staggered back to safety while his comrades ran away in fright. The other agents and officers chased after them and then apprehended them.
"Did you guys get them?" Plate asked.
"They're on the run," said Dish as he reloaded his gun.
Plate rose to her feet, but nearly tumbled onto the floor before she caught the wall. Her head was bleeding, but she was really dizzy.
"I might be out for a while," she said.
"Spoon, get her bandaged up," commanded Dish. "Then catch up with us."
Spoon nodded. Dish, Bowl, and Knife ran off to join with the other agents and officers. They didn't send Plate to her doom. She didn't have any special abilities, but she had a useful accessory implanted onto her forehead since her accident. But the metal plate was no ordinary one. Hers was made of admantium, one of the strongest substances on the planet capable of deflecting bullets.
Dish, Bowl, and Knife caught up with a SWAT commander and his men who were lined up against the wall due to a threat inside the cafeteria that they could not get into.
"What's the hold up?" Dish asked.
"They're in there with the red-headed girl," said the SWAT commander, "but every man I send in is getting sliced-up by the ascot queer."
Dish and Bowl turned around and looked at Knife.
"Please, no," said Knife. "You should know my family got killed by knife-related freak accidents."
He could not protest any further as Dish, Bowl, and the others pushed him into the cafeteria. Inside was Leichra, barefoot on her left foot, sitting on her leather desk-chair "throne" with Daphne and Velma rubbing their breasts onto her. Shaggy was nearby knocking his knees still munching on Cheesy Poofs. Red was still in her strait jacket and her trolley not far from them.
Freddie, A.K.A. the Infernal Ascot, pulled out his hastily made Dao, a Chinese sword, out from yet another SWAT officer he had slain. Connected to the sword's handle was his orange ascot that he used to confuse his opponents. It was now longer than usual.
Knife aimed his pistol. "Would you please put down your weapon?" he asked.
Freddie didn't listen, as the blond teen charged in with his ascot and sword spinning. Knife narrowly deflected it with his gun.
"Meddling kids shouldn't play with knives!" screamed Knife.
Knife pushed Freddie back and punched him very hard in the stomach, causing him to collapse unconscious. With Freddie down, Shaggy hid behind Anna, and Daphne and Velma drew out their pistols. Just then, Dish, Bowl, Spoon, Plate, and the others charged in the shot their guns from their hands.
"Give up now while you're still under eighteen," said Dish.
"MISTER DISH!" Red yelled. "GET OUT NOW!"
"What?"
With a sinister grin, Leichra leapt off her chair and threw her hands down towards the floor. All of a sudden everyone but Red and her were hoisted off the ground. They felt something cutting into their bodies, enough to make them bleed. They felt invisible wires tightening into their wrists causing them to let go of their weapons.
"That's impossible!" Bowl cried. "There's no way the K.N.D. could make such a deadly weapon in a short amount of time!"
"Unless they someone sneaked it in," smiled Leichra.
"You only have us in your web in this room," said Dish. "The others will come for us!"
"Oh really?"
Like ballerina or a Chinese martial artist, Leichra lifted her left barefoot up into the air. Dish and the others now heard screams and grunts as everyone in the building, including the criminal children, were lifted into the air by her thin and nearly invisible wires.
Suddenly, the SWAT commander let out a blood-curdling scream as he was literally sliced into pieces.
"It's but a demonstration what I will do to all of you," Leichra smiled. "If I feel like it. I don't really care for my so-called comrades. They're too crybaby for me to handle."
"You don't care for us?" Daphne asked. "We're just pawns?"
"Oh, we don't care if you sacrifice us!" Velma cried. "We still love you!"
"We do! We do!"
"Well, maybe I'll let you two live," said Leichra. "Anyway, there is a reason I have been waiting. Someone wanted a favor done by me on a particular Jonathan Dish, son of Joseph Dish. Which one is he?"
"I am," replied Dish.
"Jonathan, no," said Spoon.
"It seemed that someone supplied you with those wires was the one want me dead. If you don't mind, tell me who it is?"
"Oh, I'd tell you," said Leichra. "But for each word I have to sacrifice one of your own."
"You devil..."
"You only need one word, hence one name," said Spoon. "You can sacrifice me!"
"Don't you say such things! The way this girl plays, she'll probably start with the word 'the'."
"I take it you don't want to risk it then," said Leichra. "Fine by me. I'll accomplish the favor and my duty to take Cindi Ella to Güse."
Before she knew it, Leichra was knocked to the ground by a trolley, and this caused her to loosen her grip on her victims. Everyone fell to the floor and begun their groan of pain.
"What the hell," grumbled Leichra.
Red, free from her straitjacket and chains, charged in using her chain shackles as her weapons. Leichra leapt back to her feet threw out her wires back at Red. Red threw off her remains of her straitjacket that shredded before them. Confused by the debris, Leichra stepped back but was then punched in the face by Red. Leichra was now on the ground, Red finally knocked her out by dropping the very leather desk chair that was used as a throne.
"Anna!" Daphne cried.
"Please don't die!" yelled Velma.
Annoyed, Red picked up the desk chair again and knocked Leichra's girls out by swinging it. For good measure, she quickly threw it at Shaggy who was trying to escape all the way from the other side of the cafeteria.
"Nice throw," Spoon commented.
"Tie them up," Dish commanded to the leaderless SWAT officers. "Be careful when handling the wires. They're sharp."
"How did Red free herself from her restraints?"
"I nudged in slightly towards the wires," said Red, "just enough to cut the weakest link."
Dish and his group stepped over the bodies as they headed towards Red.
"They're not dead, are they?" Plate asked concerning the teens Red took down.
Red pushed Spoon aside and took his gun. She aimed at the group as she backed away from them.
"Thanks, but I have to go now," said Red. "Becky and the others need me."
"I can't allow you to do that," said Dish.
"Why not?"
"We're escorting you there."
"I have found out the place you were looking for," said Bowl.
"Tell me the place now," Red said.
"We got some beef against this Güse woman," said Plate. "For heaven's sake, they sent some Colorado brats, their demonic pets, and two mutant dogs at me. Your dog risked her life to save me."
"She has?"
"Just being here means we're already involved," said Dish. "I have a feeling no one will be safe in the FBI."
Red relaxed her gun. "Okay then," she said. "I'll lead the way."
"You know the escape route?" asked Knife.
"Anna told me, perhaps in case I want to give myself up. There should be two sedans waiting for us at the end. And one more thing."
"What's that?" asked Dish.
"Get me two Snickers bars, pronto. I haven't had candy since this morning."
The agents followed Red's lead, but she had to be handcuffed and pretend to show them the way to the weapons hideout of the child inmates. As usual, the escape route was the sewer access, and once inside they took off the cuffs from her wrists and gave her two Browning pistols taken off from two dead SWAT officers. Though flashlights were used, Red relied mostly on her hearing and the touch of her shoes.
The sun was going down. Red and the agents emerged from the aqueduct and climbed over the fence and went inside a seemingly unoccupied warehouse. The agents checked to make sure it was clear before they went inside. When they saw the cars, Bowl ran off to check if it was booby-trapped.
"All clear," he said.
Bowl, Knife, and Plate got in the sedan behind the one Dish, Spoon, and Red got into. They drove out of the warehouse at a stately pace in order to arouse the least suspicion.
Then they all saw a group of about twenty in-line roller skaters from afar.
"Why would they be skating here?" asked Spoon.
"Just keep looking ahead," said Dish.
Indeed they were escorting a criminal and were in the process of becoming criminals themselves, so they could not stop and interrogate the roller skaters. Then there was the added problem of their own presence. What would be the reason for two sedans driving in a seemingly abandoned warehouse district? All they knew was that they had to keep driving.
Suddenly, the roller-skaters pulled out their hockey sticks. Maybe they were playing roller hockey? But then they held it a menacing angle, and the shine from the blades indicated that they were metal and sharpened like scythe.
Perhaps they weren't going to play. In fact, they accelerated closer and swung their hockey scythes that cut into their cars. The tires were now slashed and pooped, and at least two of the skaters got onto each sedan to open the roof like a sardine can, or equivalent. Before they could lob off Dish and Spoon's heads, Red shot the attackers off with one shot each, and then saved Knife, Bowl, and Plate at the other car.
The two cars screeched and slid away from each other at the cross street. Soon, more hockey scythe-wielding roller skaters appeared. Red and agents regrouped and fought their way through the skaters until they were on their last bullets and were eventually surrounded with their backs onto one another.
"Bonjour you fat-assed Americans and their redheaded weapon of mass destruction," spoke the leader, who had a wavering French and American accent.
"An angel gets spanked whenever someone says fat ass," said Red.
"How cute."
"Who are you?" Dish demanded.
"Oh? You do not remember me from the church? How could you when you don't even see the wife I am shagging behind your back? I am Jacques Sprat, the instructor for the local hockey team, and with me are all the beautiful ladies of the Hockey Mom Syndicate of the Sports Mom Syndicate."
As it turned out, all of Jacques's subordinates were all thirty-something and over women.
"So you have been watching me?" Dish asked.
"Actually, I have," said a woman as she rolled to Jacques's side as she took off her helmet.
"No, it can't be..."
"It is," grinned Patrice Dish. "How are you doing, honey?"
"Don't you dare talk to me like that! Why are you doing this? And why are you here in the first place?"
"I've waited far too long for you to impregnate me, but you were never around. But since Jacques came into my life, I decided that he should be my new husband."
"Couldn't you have just gotten a divorce?"
"Do you remember the wedding vows we exchanged? The one line that comes to my mind was 'Till death do we part'. And since you're helping this lesbian girl escape, I figured it is befitting that you would die so I can marry Jacques."
"I'll assume you're doing this on behalf of Güse."
"Unfortunately, yes, but it's not like we got no choice. Güse's power is increasing as we speak, so we have struck a deal in that we get to kill you and retrieve the girl. That way, she'll leave us alone."
"One would sell their soul to the Devil in order to gain the power and love of God," said Spoon. "Typical hypocritical Christians."
"I'll make you regret that," said Patrice.
With the hockey scythes pointed at them, the Jacques and the Hockey Mom Syndicate drew closer to Red and the FBI agents.
"What do we do now?" asked Plate. "I'll die from bleeding if I keep using my forehead."
"I hate sharpy things," said Knife.
"Red, do you have any plans?" Dish asked.
"Can't think of any," she smiled.
"We should have given her more candy," said Spoon.
"We need a miracle," said Plate.
"Or a deus ex machina," added Bowl.
Lo and behold, it came, but there was a portent beforehand. There was a commotion behind the group of hockey mothers as they were tossed into the air by an invisible force. Suddenly, a bloodied black female Doberman Pincer with her long strap-on wobbling in the air as it leapt high up. It landed right in front of Jacques and bit his crotch murderously.
His screams were girlish and painful, causing all of the other hockey moms to become distress. In the confusion, Red grabbed his hockey scythe and then decapitated all of the hockey moms immediate to her, but missed Patrice who was crouching beside her secret lover. She then led the way out of the circle and towards safety.
"HLS!" she cried. "Come!"
HLS ripped the manhood from Jacques, who then fell to his knees. She followed Red and the agents as they ran. Red stayed behind to fight off against chasers who kept on getting beheaded or dismembered.
"This way!" Bowl cried at the head of the group. "Agent Pot's place is not too far!"
They managed to escape the wrath of the Jacques and Patrice's Hockey Mom Syndicate, but that was due to the fact Red and the others were now in a residential neighborhood. Reserve FBI agent Baxter Pot was Bowl's cousin. He was a young adult constantly confused as a teenage pot-smoker, but Pot never smoked. His spaciness was due to the fact that he was diagnosed with ADD, but coincidentally that was when he revealed that his idol in the art world was Gene Duo Biggs, which might e
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