Smash.

"See, painless!"Rachel had to admit that was pretty cool. I had just smashed a glass vase over her head and it hadn't even hurt.

"It's breakaway glass," I told her. "We were using it to practice stage fighting."

Soon we were doing a stage fighting scene. Hoagie threw Abby into the air and she crashed into a breakaway table. Nigel and Rachel were exchanging fake punches and kicks, all the while improving in making it look like they had actually gotten hurt. Kuki was on Wally's back and they were running around trying to throw each other. And Fanny and I were locked in a vicious hand-to-hand grapple. I pushed her lightly on the shoulder and she rolled over onto the floor as though I had slammed her down. I got on top of her back and plunged a fake knife into the blood packet she had secured under her shirt. Fake blood spattered everywhere.

"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?"

Everyone looked up from what they were doing. Rachel relaxed her grip on Nigel's arm. Abby paused from where she was about to fake-punch Hoagie. Kuki started slipping off Wally's back. I dropped the knife to the ground.

"Uh, Fanny," I asked the redhead beneath me. "What is your dad doing here?"

Below the stage stood Mr. Boss. He was fuming."What are you brats doing here?" he asked again.

"We're stage fighting!" said Wally. "Watch! I'll smash this over your head!" Wally picked up a colorful vase sitting on a table at the edge of the stage."No! Wally! That's not-" I tried to warn him. But in the next moment he had smashed it over the villain's head. Mr. Boss crumpled to the ground.

"Wow, you're good at this.""WALLY! THAT WASN'T A BREAKAWAY VASE! THAT WAS A VASE FOR A PLAY THEY'RE DOING HERE!"

"So…..you mean…..""Daddy!" Fanny cried, jumping out from under me and racing to her unconscious father's side.

"Daddy?" Rachel questioned. "Wait, you didn't know?" Nigel questioned her, and they went into a heated debate about this."Oh, his head's bleeding!"

"I can help!" Kuki said, running over with her nurse's hat atop her head.

"Numbah 3, no," Rachel said, stopping her. "We can't just-""YES WE CAN!""BUT HE'S A VILLAIN!""HE'S ALSO MY DAD!" Fanny screeched.

"WELL WE'RE NOT GOING TO JUST-""I'll help," Abby said, coming from where she had been silent a moment earlier.

"So will I," I said. "Abby take his feet. We gotta get him home."

"Why do I always have to take the feet?"

"JUST PICK HIM UP!"Abby took his feet. I grabbed his head.

"Numbah 5, you can't just-" the supreme leader started.

"WELL I AM! WHY DOES EVERYONE AROUND HERE ALWAYS GOTTA BE SO COLD-HEARTED?"

With that, we took him out to the ship and blasted off.

Fanny was crying. She was crying over her father, now laying on a cot with some medical equipment surrounding him.

"Well, I'm a spy, not a nurse, but I have some bad news," Abby said. We looked up, Fanny from crying, me from bandaging her dad's bleeding head.

"It seems Mr. Boss might not wake up."

"You mean he-" Fanny said, then started crying again, sobbing over her dad's unconscious body.

"How much chance is there for him to make it?"

"Well…."

"SPIT IT OUT!""It's about 50/50."

I sat back down. We landed next to Fanny's house.

"We should take him inside."

Fanny was still crying when Abby left. She was still crying when her brothers came in, yammering off that their mom called and said she would be away for another few days. They stopped dead in the doorway, mouths open. I was holding Fanny, trying to console her, gently rubbing my hand on her back like she was a five-year-old and I was her mother. She was sniffling and sobbing quietly.

"What happened?" asked Patty."Can I talk to you in the kitchen?" I told him. I looked back at Fanny. She had fallen asleep in my arms. I took her to her room and laid her gently on the bed. I placed one of her many Rainbow Monkeys beside her and closed the door. Then I took Patty and Shawnee down to the kitchen and explained, careful not to upset them too much, what happened.

"So, he's not gonna wake up for awhile right?" Shawnee asked. I nodded. The boys looked at me for a moment, then quietly slipped out of the room. I sighed and glanced at the clock habitually. It was around nine. I supposed I could prepare dinner for them, or something. Their dad was unconscious and their mom was out-of-town. Someone had to look after them. And that someone, I supposed, would have to be me.