Number One - Bitch Won't Quilt

Meanwhile, Daydream Woman was sitting next to their boss, Mr. Boss Man Sir. "Tell everyone about this, Woman," he started, about to explain the predicament they would be fixing. "You know, the patterns on the ceiling are quite lovely…" she replied absent-mindedly. Mr. Boss Man Sir swore. "I'll just talk to Overanalyzer, then." "That tile looks like space…"

"Super-Overanalyzer!" Mr. Boss Man Sir shouted, "I need to tell you about your new job. Daydream Woman won't listen." "Oh, just tell it to Statistic Child. Unless it was something I was meant to hear. Is there something only I could notice about the mission?" Of course, as the Boss Man had learned was best, he completely ignored his employee and walked off to find Stat Child, as they affectionately called him.

"Hey, Statty!" He called. "11:37 AM. Mr. Boss Man Sir Junior speaks." Stat Child replied in a monotone. He was messing with his microchip again. Couldn't that child just leave it ALONE? "I thought you weren't going to say the time anymore. That is why we got you a new microchip, after all." "Statistic Child says the time." was the only form of a reply Boss Man got. "Right, so here's your mission. There's this reform center for ex-bitches--" "Bitch: noun. Female dog." "Sure, also certain female people. Anyway, apparently not all of them are doing their quilting." A collective gasp went around the room, as all the technicians who had been eavesdropping dropped their equipment in shock. "People look surprised!" Captain Obvious broke the silence, giggling gleefully. "It's as if they were children walking in on their parents in the act." added Comparison Kid. Yet again the technicians behaved as clones as they winced in horror at the thought. Through gritted teeth, the Overanalyzer muttered, "Or maybe we could find a deeper analogy."

Pam Margaret Stone sat quietly in her shock therapy chair. One by one the lesser women came up to insult her. The trick was not to kill them, and you wouldn't get the shock. It was a tiny shock; thus the outdoor graveyard was full. Pam Margaret Stone pondered adding a few graves. Evil Condemning Girl was up. "Hey, your head is supposed to be up here, girl." Pssssh. Not worth the trouble. ECG could never provide insults from the past five years. Fermez L. Bouche was coming up next; she usually had something good. Maybe this would be her last good thing.

"Hey, you have a little chocolate or something there." she whispered, pointing at Pam Margaret Stone's wart. Pam Margaret Stone lunged. Oh, she'd be forced to make a quilt for this. A quilt depicting the girl's death. Wouldn't that keep someone warm on a winter night?

"A car! Oooo!" Captain Obvious was excited enough to wet his pants. "I'm excited enough to wet my pants!" "Is the excitement why you're about to use the restroom in the comfort of your own pants?" questioned the Super one, "Or is it just more comfortable that way? Is there another reason I don't know about?" "Going 250 miles. To center. Face female dogs." read off Stat child. "Oh, God." said the Boss Man, "This is going to be the longest three hours of my life."

Captain Obvious had had some safe, artificially flavored sugar, and was bouncing around in the van without a seat belt. "For the love of God, stop that!" the boss man screamed for the fine residents of China to hear. "I'm hyper." he explained. "Anyone have a mallet? A heavy object of any kind?" "Mallet." Statistic Child said, producing a large mallet. "Oh, thank you!" the Boss Man replied, and hit himself with it repeatedly.

"Mr. Sir looks hurt!" the captain announced gleefully. Claire sighed and added some sedative into the Captain's sugar, calling it sugar water. "Water!" he drank it down and was asleep in seconds. "That was like taking candy from a baby." Claire spoke for Comparison Kid. "You don't even need to say it." Comparison Kid grinned. "You're like one of those computers that steals your thoughts and sells them to stupid people." She grinned. "I'll keep that in mind for my next life."

Super-Overanalyzer was looking out the window, composing poetry. "The wind through the trees, or the wind and the trees? Which one can express the movement better? They're both true." He looked down at his three-page poem. Maybe he was overdoing it. Naah. No such thing when one enters the world of feeling that is poetry! "Yeah, so it's about two and a quarter pages too long already." Claire whispered to him, "A big thing with poems is that they usually aren't all that long." "But how could I express the feeling in the air in less than twelve college ruled sheets?" "See, you can summarize it. Those thirty six lines there could be made into one if you just compressed it a little." Super O frowned. "Well that just ruins the genius of it."

Meanwhile Statistic Child was working to become a Mary Poppins of sorts. He had this idea for a secret compartment that held… well, everything remotely useful or fathomable. But he was having troubles programming his microchip to do magic. Drama Queen, a special hero used only for the most extreme of situations climbed in the window, sobbing. "I thought you would all go without me! I thought you didn't love me anymore! I thought I would die out there in the wilderness! So, hey, what're you up to?" "Programming. Trying for magic abilities." "By GOD," Drama Queen began, kneeling and looking to the sky, "It's not NATURAL for MACHINES to do MAGIC, damn it!! It's not right!" She collapsed into a heap and fake-sobbed for a good ten minutes before sitting up. "So did you believe me? Huh? I'm good, right?" "On scale of one to ten, you were… on the scale." She grinned and fake-clutched the imaginary academy award, "You love me! I have so many people I want to thank--" "Shut. Mouth." "I hate you."

Daydream Woman had been put in charge of guarding, by the unbelievably stupid Captain Obvious, was daydreaming, of course. What more could you expect from her? Sure she wasn't watching. Sure she didn't notice Pam Margaret Stone walk up to the van, which was at its target speed of 5 miles per hour. Sure Claire was the one to warn. "Wake up, everyone!" Claire screamed, "The evil PMS is here to fight! Daydream Woman, you should've paid attention. I'm afraid…" she looked briefly at Mr. Boss Man, "I'm afraid you're fired. Which is why I got the Boss Man to hire Drama Queen. You think I'm going to be the only woman here? You're crazy!" she whispered, so that only the daydreamer could hear her, "and believe me, I know, I have a degree in psychology."

Daydream Woman stopped pretending. She needn't daydream any longer; the gig was up. She calmly walked outside to join Pam Margaret Stone. "Got any secrets for me?" the woman asked, "any weaknesses?" "Two words: Captain Obvious." "What? But that's a person. And their leader, at that." "Two Words," Daydream Woman repeated, "Captain Obvious. Biggest idiot in the world. Watch out for Claire Voyant though. And the Boss Man's pretty average in IQ. They're the biggest threats."

"Hmmph," PMS began, "Thinking they can make us quilt. Think again, Captain Wet-Your-Pants!"

In the van Super O was in a panic. He and Claire were the only ones who realized exactly what was going on. "Daydream Woman went outside. With Pam Margaret Stone. Which means they're in league with each other. Which means we're screwed." "Couldn't have said it better myself." Claire replied. "A double crosser!" Drama Queen gasped, staggering across the aisle, "There was always something DISTANT about her eyes! She… she… she USED me!"

Comparison Kid sighed, "It's not as if she was your lesbian life partner." "But we were so close! She acted like a sister to me!" She put her head in her hands. "I totally screwed up that line, didn't I? It had SOMETHING to do with sisterly stuff." "The line was "She was like a sister to me!" and you knew her for five minutes." "I'm acting! No one understands my art!" She muttered to herself, mostly complaining about the lack of true artists on this team.

"Maybe it's because your art sucks." The Boss Man harshly added, "Just why did I hire her again?" Claire jumped to the defense, "You know that she creates one hell of a distraction. You have to admit it." "Sometimes I wonder why I listen to you." "Because I'm clairvoyant." "Oh, yeah, that. Hey, don't you use that as a pick up line?" "No, that would be, "Hey baby, why don't you let me take a peek at your future?"" He sniggered wildly. "You actually say that to people?" "Only when they're drunk!"

Outside Pam and her comrade Pussy Kat, a.k.a. Daydream Woman, were discussing their assault on the van. "I say we just go!" Pussy whispered, obviously frustrated. "No, we need to do something clever." "Like what?" "Disguises. I know! We'll dress as superheroes." "Oh, please, don't do that to me again!" Pussy argued, but it was already decided.

"Ouch! This Slut Cakes outfit is really tight, Pam." "That's the point!" "Oh. Well why isn't your outfit tight?" "Um, fate. Well, that and the fact that I'm Captain Oblivious." "Captain Oblivious?" "Yep, he's a real hero. It was either that or Sleepy Girl." "Should've… sleepy… out of my hair…" Pussy muttered. "I heard that. Don't make me get you leather clothes." PK muttered obscenities.

About an hour later, when the Slut Cakes outfit had been glued to Pussy, they approached the van. "Hark!" was the cry from inside, a shrill female voice, "hark, I said, who goes there?" "Captain Oblivious and her sidekick, Slut Cakes!" "Slut Cakes?" the boss asked, "come right in!" "Don't take off your pants just yet…" muttered Claire, "I've got a bad feeling about this girl." "Cause you wish she was a guy, is all." he grinned triumphantly and repeated, "you just wish he was a guy."

"Oops! I lost a heel." Pussy whispered to the boss man, playing her part well. The boss man didn't even hear her, though; he was far too busy staring at her cleavage. "Hey look!" shouted Captain Obvious, true to his name, "the boss man is staring at that lady's boobs!" Immediately the boss averted his eyes and tried to pay attention to the broken heel, but it was too late. Obviously Pussy knew now.

"Slut Cakes knows that you were staring at her boobs." Captain solemnly whispered to his boss, trying to give him a tip. "Oh, I don't mind." she said, and then whispered a little in the man's ear. He then pulled the car over wildly, grabbed S. cakes, and ran out. "Hey, they're going in the unisex bathroom!" Obvious stated, "They're gonna have SEX!" Drama Queen rushed up to the window, taking on the role of narrator. "The two forbidden lovers enter their haven…" she whispered, causing Comparison Kid to laugh like a small child. "They have been dreaming of this very--" "OH MY GOD NO!" Claire shouted, "Do NOT make this into PORN!" She rushed out of the car worriedly and stood directly outside the bathroom, waiting. "Claire left." The rest soon followed.

Meanwhile Evil Condemning Girl and her twin sister, Censored Evil Condemning Girl were following Pam Margaret Stone's careful instructions. "No! You put the porn in the wrong order! DAMN YOU!" the former shouted. Her sister gasped, "You said the d word! You're going to go to heck for that!" "Oh, please. You can't even say "hell"? Now put Volleyball Monthly and Scrabble Players in the reverse order. You're doing this all wrong." "Eugh, well SORRY! Darn you for being so picky!" "Damn you!" "Darn you!" "Damn you!" "Darn you!" "Damn you!" "Darn you!"

They carried on arguing all the way through it, but eventually they had made the perfect trail of porn. It started out fairly soft core, and then got harder, and harder, and harder… there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the "heroes" would follow it. They were all closeted porn freaks, anyway. Except Mr. Boss Man, who would follow Pussy, and Claire Voyant who would follow her boss. It was the perfect way to get them to The Cave….

"Now we're in the cave," Censored Condemning Girl sang (obviously making fun of a wonderful Canadian singer/songwriter/instrument player/kicker of own ass). "Oh, shut up." her sister screeched, "I happen to like him! And he can kick his own ass, dammit!" To reply, her censored version threw a magazine at her. "Gordon Balls," the cusser read out, ""You never knew Steve Page could bend this way." Thanks, sis!" She proceeded to run over into her drooling corner. Throughout the entire scene, you must now imagine appreciative shoutings of "WOW!" and "He really can bend that way!", for they were most certainly present.

The frightening, yet pre-recorded voice of Pam Margaret Stone suddenly filled the large cavern, yelling at them for fighting and looking at porn rather than tending to the prisoners. Yes, of course the evil PMS knew that they'd get sidetracked-- they had each other's company and a very large stack of various porn magazines, catering to their desires. Who in their right minds would work with the last ten issues of Fruit Stand sitting right next to them? The prisoner didn't need much tending anyway. Both sisters thought this, but they obeyed Pam Margaret's orders and went back to their entirely normal prisoner. The truth is, he was only captured for the sake of doing something evil. It was only a matter of time until they were caught, and PMS had insisted that they get as many generally evil things on their records as was possible. The two sisters had disagreed, wanting a purpose… but in the end, they had their Average Joe.

Meanwhile, things were going much the same back in the van. Er, out of the van really, now that they had discovered the porn. They were, as predicted, enjoying it all immensely. Poor Claire was sitting in the middle, trying not to view the porn but she kept getting less than wholesome glimpses that were driving her insane. "Enough!" She finally yelled, "Put it in the van. You can read it later. We have stuff to do! Does anyone remember our mission?" Crickets chirped, true to comical stereotype. Of course no one remembered. They were looking at porn. Duh. She looked around at their guilty expressions, and then announced in a very disappointed way that she had known this would happen. It was intensely obvious that she hadn't. Every member of the team was staring intently at Claire, while she stood uncomfortably looking upwards, but feeling their gazes. "Well, you know, I'm psychic and all…" she muttered, but they weren't buying it. "We're not buying it." The Captain suggested, his words at their usual level of elegance and tact, "We know you didn't know because you obviously wish you knew but you didn't know." For a complete idiot, he sometimes made an insane amount of sense. "Alright," she admitted, "So I had a little faith. I could have seen how this would end, but I chose not to. I chose to believe in all of you." "Oh! That's so beautiful!" The Drama Queen hurled herself at Claire, "That's the nicest, most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me! Oh, I love you! Will you marry me?" There was a collective gasp. "Hey, that was a gasp! Everyone did it! Everyone gasped!" Wow, the Captain's intelligence still astounds me. Claire smiled and ignored her, "So you all bought that?" "Well… we did, up until you asked us if we did. Because if you ask us that, you are obviously wondering if we bought it, and that means it was fake." Obvious nodded as if he had made some form of sense, and to these heroes he had. To these people, the Captain was also a valuable leader. These people are insane. "Okay, so it was really just a random ending and I couldn't have seen it. And I tried to see it. Does it really matter?" she hurriedly tried to return to her point, "So no one remembers the mission, because you've been rotting your brains with watermelons and bananas, depending on sexual preference? We were supposed to help the illegal quilt market. We were working for a good cause here, people. And you let it go for some porn. It's probably anarchy in that bitch center. And you don't care, because you have porn. You are just GIVING UP on these fine, angry women for your own, sick pleasure. Don't any of you care?