(5) HOME INVASION MUCH?

"Phase one is complete. Soon, the end of WHOOP!"

Claw celebrated the downfall of Blaine and Britney with a glass of crisp champagne. His plan, just as he knew it would, had gone off without a hitch. WHOOP would be deprived of two of their best operatives, and Chris would soon be back with WHOOP Island's generator. The last piece of the TIDE puzzle would be acquired. And once the ultimate weapon was complete…

"SOAP will rule all!" Claw proclaimed at the top of his voice. His cat, rudely awoken from its nap, trotted off in disgust. "Prepare yourself, Jerry Lewis! Prepare yourself, WHOOP! Prepare yourself, world!"

He guzzled his drink, finding it as sweet as honey. Still, it paled in comparison to the taste of victory.

"Even Mr. X will be pleased with my efforts. TIDE may have been his idea, but my genius is what will bring it to life! Once it's completed, I will have no use for that cretin. Yes, I believe I'll dispose of him just like I'll do to WHOOP. A fitting punishment for all the grief he's caused me!"

He chuckled to himself, only to discover something fluffy and white about to pounce on him.

"H-Hey! What's the big idea?! Stop it already! Seriously! Cut it out!"

Claw hadn't the slightest clue why his cat was screeching angrily and attempting to poke his eyes out. The fight spilled out of his chair and onto the carpet. Claw didn't fare much better there. His opponent might have been small and cute, but it had a right hook that would be any boxer's envy.

"C-Chill out! I'm sorry! Whatever I did, I'm sorry!" cried Claw, ducking a paw that would have knocked out one of his teeth.

"Claw. I think it's about time you stopped screwing around and gave me another update."

That voice. Both Claw and his cat froze. It was hard to pretend everything was on the up and up when both were bloodied—and littered in scratch marks in Claw's case—but they did just that.

"M-Mr. X! How...erm...lovely to see you again!" Claw scurried back to his chair as fast his legs would allow him. He had already thoroughly embarrassed himself, so he wasn't worried about tripping. He fixed his tie to the best of his ability, though it was pretty much torn to shreds. "A...uh...update you said?"

Mr. X was only a silhouette on the monitor. He shouldn't have been that scary. And yet, Claw found himself unable to stop shaking. His cat, hiding under his desk, felt the same.

"Have you completed TIDE? Time is running short."

"N-Not yet, my liege. Rest assured, however, that my most trusted operative is on her way back from WHOOP Island."

"Ah. The generator. Very good, Claw. You've followed my instructions to the letter. ...For once."

Giddy at the compliment, Claw didn't hear the last part. "Thank you, my liege. I live to serve. Christine should be back some time soon."

He checked his watch. It had been well over five hours since he dispatched Chris to WHOOP Island. She should have already returned. Keeping a straight face in front of Mr. X, Claw panicked internally. The trek back from WHOOP Island was a lengthy one, but for a someone like Christine, it should have been…

"Claw. I'm talking to you."

The person in question stood at attention. "Y-Yes, my liege?"

"I asked you a question. What happened to those two WHOOP agents? The ones stationed at WHOOP Island I told you to eliminate?"

Claw gulped. Mister X being a mind reader was the last thing he needed.

"T-They have been disposed of, of course!" he proclaimed. He hoped the fact he was sweating bullets wouldn't show up too clearly on the other side of the call. "And as for those other three, I have sent Malcolm and Margaret to get them out of our hair once and for all! They will not fail!"

#

"Nobody's home…"

Margaret smacked her lips, blowing a strand of red hair out of her vision. The idea of WHOOP agents hiding under a sofa was a ridiculous prospect. That didn't stop her from checking anway.

"Nope. Nothing," she said, unsurprised. "Did they know we were coming?"

"They go to a college nearby. Malibu University if I remember correctly," said Malcolm. With a flashlight in hand, he busied searching through Sam's room. "They're likely in class right now."

"Figures." Margaret, getting comfortable, plopped onto the sofa. She whistled, admiring just how expansive the penthouse was. "How come these girl scouts get to live here and not in the dorms with the rest of those schmucks? La-di-da."

"Just don't think about taking a dip in the pool outside. We've got work to do."

Rolling her eyes, Margaret jumped to her feet. She supposed her partner had a point. There simply wasn't much to do though when they girls they were sent there to eliminate weren't home.

"Let's just go to their school then and take them out there," she suggested.

Malcolm strolled into the living room with an annoyed look on his face. "...And alert the entire neighborhood of our presence? No. We'll set an ambush for them here. According to our intel, WHOOP has them on hiatus from any missions. They'll come home eventually. Just be patient and wait, Margaret."

'Patient.' Margaret snarled. How she hated that word.

"If you really want to do something useful," said Malcolm, noting her frustration, "you can help me search this house. There might be information about WHOOP somewhere in this clutter. It would be of great value to SOAP."

Margaret replied, "The only thing in this place is fashion tips. Are we sure WHOOP spies live here?"

Ignoring the question, Malcolm went to check another room. He loathed to agree with his partner, but no matter where he looked, all he discovered were accessories, clothing...and more accessories. The place may as well have been a mini shopping mall.

"Besides, why should we bring Claw back anything? It's not like that ingrate could put it to good use," grumbled Margaret.

Malcolm chuckled. "Now that I agree with. Incompetent or not, however, the mission he gave us is still of the utmost importance. Get off that couch already and help me since you want this to be over and done with."

Rolling her eyes, Margaret supposed he had a point. She hopped to her feet and made her way into Clover's room.

"Ugh!" she cried at discovering the place a vivid shade of pink. Her eyes teared up. "Okay, now I know there's no way someone with such a revolting room could be a WHOOP spy!"

She didn't so much as look around as she did toss random items out of her way. Malcolm picked up on all the noise, poking his head into the doorway.

"What are you doing in here? Don't…" He cursed under his breath as he narrowly dodged a few bottles of nail polish. "Stop. Making a mess of the place is only going to scream that someone broke in here."

"What does it matter? Didn't we come here specifically to kill them?"

Malcolm's face wrinkled. "...Okay, fair point. Still, you should try to show some restraint."

"Yeah, yeah…"

She waved him off, stumbling upon what she first assumed was a fourth bedroom. However, as her eyes widened, she realized it was instead a treasure trove of clothing.

"T-This is a...closet…?" Her earlier gripping aside, she couldn't resist running over toward a shimmering, red dress. "Cute. This girl might be a WHOOP spy, but she's got one hell of a fashion sense."

She dug further into Clover's closet, intending to take back as much as she could. It wasn't as if the owner would have any use for it once they were eliminated.

"How's it going in here, Margaret? Did you find…?"

Malcolm froze. So did Margaret. She also dropped the bevy of designer outfits in her possession.

Blushing furiously, she stammered, "U-Um…! T-This is…!"

"...I thought I told you not to make a mess of the place."

"S-SHUT UP!"

With a sigh, Malcolm opened a window. "Fine. We'll just say the wind did it."

Margaret grumbled under her breath, too mortified to argue.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to the green book under Malcolm's arm.

"A diary. It might have the information we're seeking."

"Really? You're going to go through someone's diary? Ha! We undergo years of grueling training...only to do crap like this."

Malcolm paid her no mind again, spotting the name 'Sam' on the diary's cover. The lock separating him from its contents proved no obstacle once he cut if off with a laser pen.

"So, anything good?" Margaret asked as he skimmed through the pages.

"Not really. Just a bunch of nonsense any teenage girl would write about."

"I almost feel bad going through this Sam's stuff." Margaret smirked maliciously. "Almost."

"Ah…"

"Well, don't leave me in suspense."

"...I thought I told you to search the house."

"Just tell me what's in the stupid diary already!"

"'Chris.' That name pops up quite a bit in these entries."

The mere mention of that name further soured Margaret's mood. "Oh, that traitor."

"Indeed. It would be in SOAP's best interest if she too was eliminated. After all, she was the one who took Scar from us, as well as SOAP's chance for world domination." Malcolm slammed the diary shut. "It's worthless after all. I can't tell if these girls are overly cautious...or incredibly foolish. Regardless, let's exercise caution."

"Come on. Even this fashionista's room doesn't have anything threatening. If you ask me, these girls are the very definition of harmless."

Malcolm pointed to the red scarf around Margaret's neck. "Certainly 'fashionable' too, right?"

"I-I thought I told you to shut up already!"

She was about to rip the scarf off when both she and Malcolm grew silent. The front door was being unlocked. They nodded at one another, taking up hiding spots. A trio of giggling voices filled the penthouse as they did.

"Man, I'm beat!" Alex whined, plopping down onto the sofa. "That was totally the hardest Puppy Scrubbing 101 class I've ever had."

"You're telling me! I don't know how, but I forgot to finish my history homework today!" Sam exclaimed in a strangely horrified tone. "Do you know how embarrassing it was to be the only one in class who couldn't turn it in?"

"Um...dramatic much?" replied Clover, rolling her eyes. "I so didn't even bother doing it."

"That's because you only ever do your Fashion Design homework. ...Why does that class even have homework?"

"Oh, whatever, Miss Drama Queen. Don't be jealous just because I put the fab in fabulous with my designs." With a haughty laugh, Clover headed toward her room. "After all, my closet is a smorgasbord of...WHAT HAPPENED TO MY CLOSET?!"

Now she was the one sounding like a character in a horror movie.

"What's the matter?!" Sam asked, rushing onto the scene.

Rather than terrified, Clover fumed in anger. "W-Which one of you left the window open?! The wind totally ruined my closet!"

"...Oh," said Alex unemphatically. "So, nothing's wrong then?"

Clover was about five seconds from smacking her. "Of course something is wrong! It's going to take me hours, hours, to rearrange everything! On top of it, the skirt I planned on wearing on my date this Friday is majorly ruined!"

"Wait, it's totally cute!" Alex cried. "This is a catastrophe!"

"I know, right?!"

"Sure, girls." Sam was more preoccupied examining the open window. "I'm sure we locked all the windows and doors before we left. Besides, it's not even that windy."

Something came to her just then. It prompted her to hurry to her own room.

"Where is it?! Where is it?!"

Clover and Alex watched her tear apart her dressers. Soon enough, her room was as messy as Clover's.

"Um...everything alright, Sammy?" asked Clover.

"And here you were making fun of Clover for her clothes being ruined!" said Alex.

"Ah! It's still here!" Sam pulled out her diary rather than an expensive skirt. Much to her relief it remained locked. "For a second there, I thought someone might have broken in here."

"Yeah...me too." Alex sighed and helped herself to a seat on Sam's bed. "Maybe we're just jumpy because we haven't had any missions in awhile."

"True. We haven't heard from Jer either," Clover noted somberly, taking the spot next to Alex. "It's been, like, a week. I hope everything's alright."

"Leave it to a guy not to contact you. Heh…"

Alex's lukewarm joke did little to brighten the mood.

"So...um...I wonder how Chris is doing."

Sam's and Alex's heads shot up due to Clover's sudden question.

"She's...fine," Sam answered quietly. "...Probably. Worrying to death about her wouldn't solve anything. She also wouldn't want us doing it. We need to be ready in case Jerry does get around to contacting us."

"I guess." Alex sighed. "This totally sucks though. I so don't like sitting around and feeling all helpless."

"Let's not then!" A much more chipper Clover wrapped her arm around Alex's shoulder. "Forget about Jer and WHOOP for awhile. If he's so intent on giving us a vacay, I say we head to the Groove and do. Some. Shopping!"

Sam thought long and hard about the proposition. Eventually, she smiled. "There is a purse I've been meaning to buy."

"And I haven't had a triple banana and carrot smoothie from Senor Smoothie in ages!"

"...Gross," muttered Clover, sticking out her tongue. "Um, Alex? I think…"

A shrill scream interrupted her. Loud squealing trailed it, squealing that made Alex jump to her feet.

"Oinky! He's in trouble!"

"You can tell from...the squeal alone?" said Sam.

"Of course! Hold on, Oinky! Mama's coming!"

Alex made her way into the living room. Sam and Clover, while not nearly as enthusiastic, were hot on her heels. There were no signs of Oinky, not even a tiny squeal.

Alex, panicking, shouted, "Oinky? Where are you, boy? I've got a treat for you if you come out!"

"G-Get the hell off of me already, you rotten…!"

The Spies looked at one another in confusion. They could hear some kind of commotion but not its origin. That was when they zeroed in on a large closet. It was rocking all about, scaring Alex enough that she hid behind Sam.

"It's not a ghost, Alex." Sam gulped. "...O-Obviously."

"A robber?" suggested Clover.

Sam armed herself with a frying pan. "Whoever it is, they're about to eat a full helping of steel!"

Her brash words aside, she approached the now violently shaking closet with an air of caution. Alex busied gesturing for her to stay away.

"For the last time, Alex, there is no such thing as…!"

The closet door burst open. Besides almost giving Sam a heart attack, it also gave her and the others a clear view of Margaret attempting to fight off Oinky.

"S-Stop it already!" she shouted as she dodged its tongue for dear life. "Ugh! This is so gro-oooooo-oss!"

The sight of her rolling about was both shocking and strangely captivating to Sam, Alex and Clover. It took their brains a number of moments to process the situation.

"...Crap," uttered Margaret, returning the bewildered stares aimed her way. She tossed Oinky inadvertently into Alex's awaiting arms before taking a fighting stance. "So, you've figured out what's going on, WHOOP spies!"

"No," said Sam, still reeling. "We don't have a clue what's happening."

"At least we've found out Oinky is the best guard dog ever!" Alex chimed happily as the pig in question licked her face.

"Yeah, if you want a crook licked to death," said Clover. She pointed a stern finger at Margaret, adding, "Now then, who exactly are you? And why are you wearing my favorite scarf?!"

Sidestepping the question, Margaret said, "Unfortunately, ladies, discovering me will only lead to your…!"

The Spies pounced on her and pinned her to the floor in the blink of an eye.

"Monologuing? Really?" Sam sighed and shook her head. "Is this your first day on the job? Now then, who are you?!"

"A-As if I'd talk, wretched WHOOP spies!" a squirming Margaret snapped. "Let me go already!"

"Caught already, Margaret? You're making Claw look competent. Next time I tell you to hide, pick a less mundane spot."

By the time the Spies spotted Malcolm coming around the corner, it was too late. With the flick of a switch, he caused a red barrier to spawn around them. Their first instinct was to pound on it in order to escape. That got them nowhere fast.

"Setting up that trap earlier proved worthwhile after all," a grinning Malcolm noted.

"Oh, what a cheap trick!" Alex declared. "Do you two just get all your stuff from 'How to Be A Baddie 101?!'"

Malcolm smirked a bit more. "Perhaps. You'll find my tactics far more effective than my bumbling partner's. Then again, I suppose I have to give her credit for drawing you fools out."

"...I'm standing right here, you know." Getting up off the floor, a bitter Margaret wiped her face clean. "Don't think I'm thanking you for bailing me out there."

"Heh. You admitted I saved you. That's good enough."

"W-Why you little…!"

"I don't mean to interrupt your lover's quarrel," said Sam, "but what exactly have you trapped us in? And who are you people?"

"Whatever this thingy is, it's a killer on my complexion!" Clover fanned herself, sweating like a stuffed pig. "I so already had a tan today, you creeps!"

"I can assure you a sunburn is the least of your concern," Malcolm stated. He juggled a remote control up and down. "Who we are is of no importance. All that matters is the three of you are about to meet your untimely ends."

"Oh, great! More creeps from SOAP!" said Clover.

"Indeed!" Margaret proclaimed, cackling. "And the whole of WHOOP is soon to follow you girls in being destroyed!"

Malcolm shot her and her loose lips an irritated look. "...The energy cage you are trapped in cannot be broken from either inside or out. Try as you might, you would only be wasting your strength. More importantly, it is rigged to explode in fifteen minutes."

The Spies couldn't hide their shock at this development.

"However," Malcolm continued, "I'm willing to offer you three a deal. While you may be enemies, you are more useful to me alive than dead. Give me information on WHOOP. Provided you do so, I will free you."

"Hey! That wasn't part of the plan!" Margaret informed him.

"Your time to decide is short, WHOOP spies."

It wasn't much of a debate. Neither Sam, Alex, or Clover had any plans on selling WHOOP out.

"Which means we need to figure out how to get out of this thing...and fast," said Sam. "I don't know about you girls, but I'd prefer not being chunks all over the living room floor."

"He said this thing is unbreakable though," Alex reminded her.

"As if!" snapped Clover. "Why should we believe anything a SOAP spy says?!"

"Don't be like that, ladies," said Malcolm. "Besides, you have no reason to stand by Jerry Lewis and his worthless organization any longer. WHOOP Island has fallen. SOAP is also mere days away from completing the ultimate weapon."

"Y-You're bluffing…" replied a gulping Sam.

"Then again, it's not like we've heard anything from Jer as of late," noted Clover.

Alex added, "Um...w-what if this guy isn't lying?"

"Good! It's starting to sink into those thick skulls of yours!" said Margaret, laughing at their expense again. "Do yourselves a favor and submit."

As much as she was having fun, the Spies not answering her demands put a damper on it.

"This isn't a game!" she roared. "You brats are really going to die at this rate! And for what?! Well, time's ticking!"

She tapped a finger against an imaginary watch, her lips coiling into a sadistic smile.

#

Chris' eyes shot open. The first thing they rested on was Heisenberg, who stood to her right.

"Greetings, Christine. I'm glad we've gotten a chance to talk again."

"Hiya, Chris!" said Tabitha Conner, standing in the middle. "Hope you're nice and comfy. Want me to fluff your pillow? Oh, you don't have a pillow..."

The cheerful comments led Chris to realize she couldn't move her arms and legs. Metal bindings were the culprit, keeping her secured to a vertical table. Quickly giving up on escape, her eyes wandered over to the person on her left.

"Hello, Christine," said Jerry Lewis. Unlike the others, he was far more somber in his greeting. "I truly didn't believe the rumors of you being alive. Still, it's...hard to argue when the truth is staring me in the face."

Chris paid his worlds little mind, instead searching about the room.

"This is WHOOP's main HQ, my dear," said Heisenberg. "I assure you the equipment at WHOOP Island was more than sufficient enough to study her, Jerry."

"We aren't 'studying' her," Jerry argued. "She isn't some animal to be dissected in a lab. We're merely monitoring her for any abnormal behavior."

"Call it whatever you'd like if it helps you sleep better at night. If anything, this is an interrogation of an enemy spy. We should sedate her at the very least. I've seen her in action."

Jerry eyed Tabitha, replying, "Don't you have any faith in your own creation? She can restrain Chris if need be, but as I've already stated, we are not treating her like some kind of twisted experiment."

"Speaking of my inventions…" Heisenberg observed Chris attempt to free her arm again. A small jolt went through it, stopping her in her tracks. "I'm afraid those electro bindings were made specifically to keep you detained, my dear. I recommend you not moving anymore unless you desire to be fried to a crisp. Then again, you would make a far more obedient subject being totally numb."

"Are you done?"

"Are you? Bringing her here was a mistake. Even with Tabitha and those bindings keeping her from ripping our heads off, I have a bad feeling about this."

"The situation is under control," Jerry assured him. "I didn't recall asking the advice of a former criminal."

"Oh? If you desire to squabble over past mistakes…"

"Are you guys arguing?" asked Tabitha. "Because that's bad. Very bad!"

"That soft heart of yours," said Heisenberg, "will be the death of you, Jerry Lewis."

"Uh oh. Father is mad..." mumbled Tabitha, biting her fingernails.

"Don't mind him," said Jerry. He turned back to Chris, ready to tend to the matter at hand. "How are you feeling? I don't suppose you can understand what I'm saying."

He thought not in light of Chris merely glaring.

"What in the world has SOAP done to you?"

He studied her various modifications and became sickened the longer he did. It was like someone had striven to make her more machine than human.

"This isn't the work of an amatuer. Certainly, that Claw fellow isn't capable of such feats," said Heisenberg.

"For once, we agree on something," replied Jerry. "Not that it's a subject to celebrate about."

"Jerry...Lewis."

Chris' tone was weak and barely audible. Even so, it gave Jerry a start.

"So, you can hear us then? Good. I want you to…"

"RA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AH!"

Jerry wasn't startled so much as scared half to death when Chris began thrashing about.

"JERRY...LEWI-IIIIIIIIIIII-IIS!"

"Tabitha, restrain her before she hurts herself even more!"

His assistant got to work at once. She held Chris down, though she marveled at her having to use almost all of her strength to do it.

"Whoa! You're pretty strong, eh?" she chimed as Chris continued to howl. "Be a good girl now."

"Good heavens." Jerry's hand shot over his mouth. He felt ill. "Christine…"

"This isn't the time to lose your nerve," Heisenberg advised.

"Y-Yes. You...are correct." Taking a deep breath, Jerry steeled himself. At the very least, Chris had been reduced to muttering his name over and over. "I promise you, Christine. I will find a way to return you to normal. I owe Nathaniel and Diane that much."

"Assuming that's possible."

"...I kindly ask you refrain from expressing such opinions in my presence, Doctor Heisenberg."

"Play naive if you want. I was going to suggest we question her for information on SOAP, though it is clear she isn't in the mood for conversation. How about it, Christine?"

Without warning, she spat on him. He blinked.

"...And here I presumed she didn't recognize me." Heisenberg cleaned his face with the aid of a handkerchief. Tabitha, meanwhile, had to turn her head to hide her giggling. "What now, Jerry?"

"Indeed. At the very least, with Christine here, SOAP has lost one of their strongest pieces."

"There still remains their supposed ultimate weapon. We should use this opportunity to go on the offensive."

"No, we know anything about it. We could be walking into a trap. We've yet to track down Claw's whereabouts as well."

"Didn't I say this isn't the time to lose your nerve?"

"It has nothing to do with nerves! We've no clue how far along SOAP's mysterious weapon is or even something as basic as its specifications!"

"If it was close to completion, SOAP would have already employed it. Since when have any of their actions been the definition of 'subtle?' The very safety of the world, one Christine here tried sacrificing her life for, is being threatened. This is the wrong time to be cowardly, Jerry."

That was going too far. Jerry, beside himself with anger, answered, "And playing right into the enemy's hand is your idea of 'going on the offensive?!' On the contrary, we should be playing it safe now more than ever!"

"No. The last time WHOOP sat on its hands and gave SOAP the opening move, it led to complete and utter disaster. Are you that intent on repeating the mistakes of the past?"

To that, Jerry had no answer. Heisenberg was spot on...and he knew it. He clenched his fists.

"You know, we're all on the same side," Tabitha was quick to remind the two. "You can squabble until the cows come home, but don't you think fighting like this is exactly what SOAP wants us to do? Let's be nice to one another!"

Both Jerry and Heisenberg stood in disbelief. If Tabitha was acting as the voice of reason, they truly were lost.

"'Being nice' is the reason SOAP was able to manipulate Christine. It's also the reason Scar wasn't taken care of long, long ago. I'm sorry, my precious daughter, but 'being nice' isn't the solution to our problems. If WHOOP had merely taken care of Christine when they had the chance..."

A punch to the jaw interrupted his speech. It also knocked him off his feet. Tabitha made haste to rush to his side, though he focused more on the pure disgust on Jerry's face.

"I've made a lot of mistakes over the years in terms of SOAP. Christine, however, isn't one of them. I will do a lot worse if you dare say such word about her again."

The bold claim stuck with Heisenberg. He could think of nothing else. In spite of Tabitha fretting over him, he stood, even smirking.

"You have me curious, Jerry Lewis. How far will that soft heart of your take you? While I don't understand it one bit, you have the same look in your eyes this foolish girl did before she went off to face Scar. Mysterious indeed."

"Yes, I too am curious. Then again, I already know the answer to such ridiculousness."

Though the words had come out of her mouth, it without a doubt wasn't Chris voice everyone heard. Their heads shot over to her in time to catch her laughing like a madwoman.

"W-What is this…?" Jerry knew that voice. He could never forget it so long as he lived. He backpedaled as a wave of dread swept over him. "It can't be!"

"Oh, I'm afraid so, Jerry!" Chris proclaimed, cackling even harder. "You know, you really made things too easy. You were right, Heisenberg. For once in your pathetic life, you were right. Jerry really is too soft hearted for his own good."

Chris' body started to glow. Everyone shielded their eyes, with Heisenberg's shrinking once he realized what was happening.

"Get down! She's going to self detonate!"

There was no time. If what he was saying was true, Jerry knew they were already as good as dead.

That was when Tabitha darted in front of him and Heisenberg, her arms outstretched.

"Stand back!"

"W-What are you doing, Tabitha?"

The android nodded back at Jerry, stating, "Looks like you won't have to give me a raise after all...Boss."

"TABITHA, DON'T!"

An explosion rocked the lab, reducing most of it to ash. Smoke billowed out of a gigantic hole in the building. It could be seen for miles. Panicked people walking the streets or in cars stopped to point the spectacle out.

For those inside the lab, it was more of a hell. Jerry, coughing, pushed a piece of rubble off himself. Other than a number of cracked ribs, he quickly assessed he was okay. He spotted Heisenberg trapped under another pile of debris and rushed to the good doctor's aid.

"Are you alright?"

He assessed Heisenberg had to be in light of the latter chuckling. "...So, Jerry Lewis, you weren't the only one played like a fiddle."

"Don't speak! We need to get you to a doctor!"

"Don't fret over me. I...believe we have more important matters to tackle."

"Yes, like how an android managed to slip past us!"

"I'm curious about that as well. Such a clever trick. Even so, SOAP...or anyone for that matter…" Heisenberg grunted, grasping at his right side. "Something might be broken after all. Anyway, I should have noticed it when we brought Christine here. No, when she was first captured. When did they make the switch?"

"Where's Tabitha?"

Where indeed. Jerry's inquisition caused Heisenberg to look around frantically. His daughter was nowhere to be found amongst the blazing flames and blackened walls.

"Tabitha! Where are you, Tabitha?!"

"S-She…"

"Don't you dare say it! My precious invention...my precious daughter couldn't possibly be…!"

"Oh? To think I'd hear such bellyaching over a piece of machinery."

It made little sense to them, but Jerry and Heisenberg were sure the sound of squeaking wheels were inching toward them. It grew louder every second. So did their apprehension. Soon, a pair of figures appeared from the thick smoke. One was Chris, the real Chris. It was the person sitting in a wheelchair she pushed that gave Jerry and Heisenberg pause.

"What's the matter?" Scar asked, clasping his hands. "...You both look like you've seen a ghost."

#

"Don't panic girls. Everything is going to be alright."

Sam's suggestion fell on deaf ears. The very first thing Alex did was panic, panic big time.

"What are you saying?! We're totally going to explode at this rate!"

Screaming wasn't enough. She flailed her arms about too. Clover had to duck to avoid being smacked in the face.

"You can be spared from such a fate," Malcolm announced, "by simply talking. WHOOP will be history shortly. There is little point in you sticking your necks out for a dying organization. Spies of your caliber would be better served working for SOAP."

"What is this, Malcolm?" Margaret asked. "Why are you trying to get these disgraces on our side?! The thought of working with people from WHOOP makes me want to hurl!"

"Fine with us!" Clover crossed her arms. "It's not like we'd wanna work with you losers either!"

"Sorry, but we don't plan on ratting out Jerry either!" voiced Sam with vigor.

Malcolm shook his head. "So be it then. I don't like getting my hands dirty, but you girls have left me no choice."

"That's more like it. Don't be so hasty though. I want to see the terror forming on their faces when they realize how screwed they are," a gleeful Margaret said.

"Twisted much?" said Clover.

"She's nuttier than my Grandma's fruitcake," added Alex.

"Crazy aside…" Sam eyed the remote in Malcolm's grasp. "We're running out of time. We need to find some way to get that remote. It's our only option."

Clover replied, "How? It's over there and we're totally stuck in here."

"What are you girls muttering about?" Helping herself to a seat on the sofa, Margaret kept a careful eye on the Spies. "If you're going to talk, tell us about WHOOP."

"For trashing WHOOP so much, you two sure want to know a lot about it," Alex remarked.

Sam thought so as well. Her face lit up as a plan started to take shape in her mind.

"Yeah. You guys are about to destroy WHOOP, right? The way you talk, maybe SOAP isn't as invincible as you claim. That's why you need intel," she theorized.

"Hey! Shut your mouth!" Margaret cried.

Sam did nothing of the sort. "You know, it's only a matter of time before SOAP loses again."

"...What was that?"

"You heard me. You have an even less competent guy in charge this time. Even if you take us out of the picture, there'll be someone around to stop you. Then again, if the other SOAP operatives are like you, they'll be too busy stealing scarves to take over the world."

That was the last straw. Margaret rolled up her sleeves and marched up to Sam, readying to tear her head off. For once, the barrier worked to her disadvantage. She could do nothing but grit her teeth as Sam blew a raspberry.

"Calm down." Malcolm put a firm hand on her shoulder. "She's baiting you. Can't you even figure that much out on your own? She wants you to do something stupid, giving them a change at escaping."

A snarling Margaret snapped, "Don't you start too!"

"Darn it! So close…" Sam smacked her lips. "That guy is sharp alright."

"Whoa, Sammy. I didn't think you were so devious," noted Clover.

"What now?" asked Alex. "We don't even have any gadgets on us."

"I doubt any would even be useful in sort of situation," groaned Sam.

"I'm going to give you three one last chance." Malcolm held up the remote, a silent reminder it was their sole option. "It's illogical for you to continue to resist. It's obvious you've been defeated."

"That's the deal with you SOAP spies. When the going gets tough, you quit," said Sam. "But we're different! It doesn't matter how bleak things look! We won't give up until the bitter end!"

The conviction in her words threw Malcolm for a loop. His gaze moved to the floor, his expression wracked with indecision.

"I told you not to bother," said Margaret. "Get rid of them already, Malcolm!"

"I don't need you to tell me that. I-I…"

Something small, hard, and fast hit Malcolm in the wrist. It caused him to drop the remote. Grunting in anguish, he caught wind of his attacker.

"Don't move," Dyson Glee told the SOAP spies. He held a handful of marbles and was ready to use another. "These Subsonic Separating Marbles can destroy flesh just as good as lead. Man, that Heisenberg sure does come up with the strangest inventions."

"Who the hell are you?" asked Margaret.

"Obviously someone from WHOOP if he's threatening us," said Malcolm. He also knew Dyson's threat was genuine. He could hardly feel his wrist.

Margaret cracked her knuckles. "Correction—he's another face to stomp."

She took a step forward. That was when Dyson fired another marble. It landed at her feet, leaving a smoldering hole in the wooden flooring.

"Don't move!" Malcolm screeched. "He really will kill you!"

"You should listen to your boyfriend there." Dyson juggled the marbles in his hand, giving the SOAP operatives a venomous glare. "Now then, let's talk."

"D-Damn you, WHOOP scum!" Margaret hated feeling so helpless. "What would we possibly want to talk about with the likes of you?!"

"What...is going on?"

Sam might have been watching the proceedings, yet, she couldn't make heads or tails of them.

"I think…the biggest hottie at Mali-U is...totally saving us…" Clover answered breathlessly.

"Am I actually seeing this? Somebody pinch me," said Alex. "Dyson...a WHOOP spy?"

The three paused. Then, in unison, they shouted, "WHA-AAAAA-AAAT?!"

"Hello, ladies." Dyson's signature smile blinded the Spies, making them sigh in pure delight. "Sorry for being late. I'll have you free in a bit. Allow me to deal with your unwanted guests first."

He might have spent too much time chatting. Malcolm, seeing an opening, was seconds away from taking his head off with a roundhouse kick. Yelping, he used both hands to block it, though this left him open to Margaret's fist. He moved his head to the left, countering by first shoving Malcolm's leg back and then grabbing Margaret's arm. He tossed her across the room, though like a cat, she landed on her feet.

"Oh boy." Dyson whipped his head about. The sudden battle left him at a disadvantage. Margaret cut off his front, whereas Malcolm could sneak up from behind.

"Not bad, WHOOP scum," said Margaret. "But...not good enough!"

"You fight like an amatuer," Malcolm stated. "Just who are you?"

"Well, you got the amatuer part right." Dyson chuckled. "I guess I shouldn't have lowered my guard, even for a second."

"Indeed."

The SOAP spies circled their prey. Dyson, meanwhile, held his ground. He still held the marbles Heisenberg gave him, and his enemies knew it.

"No hasty moves, Margaret. You wouldn't want to lose a limb."

"Shut up, Malcolm! I can take care of myself!"

"Uh oh, girls. Dyson might be in trouble!" cried Alex.

Clover, pounding on the energy cage, shouted, "We've gotta help! Even with those marble thingies, it's still two-on-one!"

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Sam lamented the fallen remote being so close and yet so far. "Wa-aa-ah!"

A marble gave her a fright, though it struck the barrier rather than her.

"What the…?" she said, peering at a small hole in her prison. It closed seconds later. "Hey! I got it!"

"Whoa there!" A backflipping Dyson avoid a pair of kicks. "For all the arguing you do, you two make a good team."

The SOAP spies unloaded on him, throwing limbs at every conceivable angle. Dyson himself wasn't sure how he was managing to dodge.

"Oy, I feel like I've awoken a pair of sleeping beasts!"

"Leave him alone, you creeps!" Alex screamed.

"At least don't aim for his beautiful face!" added Clover. "What? I could so live with broken bones, but a broken face?"

"Save your skewed priorities, Clover! I've got an idea!" Sam announced. "Dyson! I need you to shoot those marbles at the barrier!"

"Kind of busy here!"

Dyson took a shot to his 'beautiful face.'

"Go down already!" Margaret declared, landing a right hook.

"Game over, WHOOP spy."

Malcolm drove his knee into Dyson's stomach. The blow sucked all the air out of the latter's lungs. It also left him open to Margaret kicking him in the mouth. The combined assault sent him writhing on the floor.

"Idiot!" Margaret planted her foot into his chest. His cries of agony were music to her ears. "That's what you get for challenging SOAP! What were you thinking?"

"You know…" Dyson hacked up a few laughs. "...I don't know anymore."

#

"...How?! How could you possibly be alive?!"

It was like a bad joke. Jerry wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

"You look so pale, Jerry. Is old age finally getting to you?" Scar rested his hand on his fist and soaked the moment in. "You ask how I can still be alive, but didn't Christine here survive? There should have been little doubt I could as well."

Jerry snarled. He considered the possibility, as slim as it was. He simply never allowed himself to believe it. Maybe it was out of fear. Perhaps it was no more than foolishness, the type Heisenberg had been striving to yank out of his head.

"It seems you've made yet another critical error," Scar stated. "A pity. All that intellect wasted on a pathetic being like you. No matter. If it makes you feel better, you can clearly see I didn't come out of that plane crash unscathed."

He directed a finger at his wheelchair.

"You think your legs is fair payment for you crimes?!"

"And what about your crimes, Jerry? You know, I hadn't planned on reuniting with you so soon, but you just had to find it in the goodness of your heart to take Chris in. Or, who you thought was Chris. I had to strike."

"So, that really was an android," mused Heisenberg. "When did SOAP make the switch?"

"SOAP had nothing to do with it." Scar chuckled. "I needn't explain it by now, but this isn't something the likes of Claw could have pulled off. Like WHOOP, SOAP believes I've met my untimely demise. I've used that to my advantage."

"You haven't changed, Scar. Still using others, even your own allies, as tools," said Jerry bitterly.

"But the thing is, Jerry, everyone is nothing more than tools for my use...and disposal. And in my excitement to meet you, I've failed to clarify that I go by not Scar but Mister X these days."

"Of course. It all makes sense now. You've been running SOAP from the shadows, not Claw!"

"Congratulations. You've figured me out. ...If only you had done so before TIDE neared its completion. That is the name of the ultimate weapon. That is the name of your destruction. That is the name of my revenge."

"So, Claw was only a puppet? He had no grander role?" Heisenberg inquired. "I'm failing to see the logic in not simply revealing yourself sooner."

"My name has been...tarnished by the events of the past. I installed Claw as the new face of SOAP, someone the world would be more willing to accept. Of course, he failed even in that simple role."

"You still don't get it, Scar! Regardless of who is in charge, the world would never accept the rule of your vile organization!" snapped Jerry.

"...Like always, I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree. Christine."

The person in question stepped forward. By the time Jerry readied himself for an attack, she was already too close for comfort. Driving her knuckles into his gut, she sent him flying across the room. She didn't intend to rest, setting her sights on Heisenberg.

"You're ever the thorn in my side it seems, Christine," the good doctor said as she slowly walked toward him, her heels clacking with every step. "I'm well aware you've been brainwashed. ...Even so, I would be lying if I said I didn't plan on getting revenge for my precious Tabitha."

The piece of Everlasting Shock Gum he had been chewing on came in handy. He spat it onto Chris' leg. Electricity coursed through her being, and she filled the burning room with a scream of anguish.

"Sorry, Christine. It's nothing personal. Now, I can focus on…"

The most the Everlasting Shock Gum had done was taken the wind out of its intended victim.

"Impressive," said Heisenberg. This was in spite of the greater sense of apprehension he felt. "So, not even I can stop you, Christine. You really are a stubborn girl."

"Give it up, Heisenberg. Your knowledge of robotics has always paled in the face of mine." Scar wheeled himself past the good doctor. He didn't spare the man so much as a glance. "The Christine that I spent thousands of dollars modifying wouldn't be defeated by one of your paltry gadgets."

"D-Damn you…!"

"Leave these two be for now, Christine. We can destroy them at our leisure. For now, you have another job, don't you?"

She did, hence why she sprang to her feet.

"H-Hold on a moment, Chris!" Jerry spoke before she could sprint away. He hadn't put much faith in his remark, though much to his surprise, Chris seemed to oblige him by stopping. "I-I...know the real you is still in there, the very same girl who risked her life to put a stop to Scar's ambitions! You're stronger than this! No matter what he's done to you, you vowed you would no longer allow him to control you!"

There was no doubt in his mind. Chris' expression wracked itself in confusion. His words had gotten through.

But just as Jerry readied to celebrate, Chris ran away, vanishing down a corridor. Jerry's heart nearly broke in two.

"C-Christine…"

"What a rousing speech! Your speaking skills haven't dulled, Jerry!" Scar couldn't contain his laughter. The scene unfolding before him eclipsed even his wildest fantasies. "However, did you think mere words could break my genius? Christine has shown that, just like in the past, she is fully dedicated to SOAP's cause. Even now, she makes a useful pawn."

"Useful indeed, and yet you sent her off to do who knows what. What exactly are you plotting?" said Heisenberg.

"You will see in good time. You all will. For now, simply sit back...and enjoy the fireworks."

"W-Wait!" It hit Heisenberg like a truck. He cursed himself for not putting it together sooner. "So that's the reason you wanted us to capture Christine! You wanted to repeat that stunt from WHOOP Island! W-Which means…!"

"Too little, too late, Doctor. But indeed. You've caught me. I require the nuclear power reactor from this building to complete TIDE. As unlikely as it was, I considered Chris failing to take the one from WHOOP Island. Presuming she was captured, she would likely be brought here. It's always important to have an ace in the hole, you know. Now then, I'd like to take a trip, gentlemen. Won't you come along?"

It wasn't an option. Heisenberg found himself being snatched off the ground, the culprit's immense strength nearly tearing off his arm.

"Up and at 'em! This isn't the time to be a sleepyhead!"

Tabitha, alive and well, gave him the sweetest smile she could muster. Joy was the very last emotion Heisenberg felt upon looking at his daughter.

"I-Impossible! This...can't be!"

"Yes. I'm afraid your precious Tabitha works for me," Scar informed him. "She always has."

#

With Dyson out of the picture, Malcolm returned his full and undivided attention to the trapped WHOOP spies.

"Five minutes, ladies," he informed them, holding up the same number of fingers. "I'm afraid your friend is going to die along with you. The blast will be more than enough to level this entire penthouse."

"Um...girls, I know I'm totally restating the obvious," said Alex, "but we need a plan now!"

"Ugh! This sucks! You're so not even giving us a chance to fight!" said Clover. "Are you a real man or what?!"

"Unlike Margaret, I'm afraid provocation doesn't work on me," Malcolm replied. "You girls sealed your own fate. No wonder WHOOP is about to go under."

"Bye bye!" chimed Margaret with an equally sarcastic wave. "We've got the destruction of WHOOP to take care of, so…"

"Oh, whatever. The only reason SOAP has gotten so far is because of Chris."

The room grew quiet, uncomfortably quiet. It wasn't solely due to Sam sounding so calm but cocky. Margaret looked like she had seen a ghost.

"...You wanna repeat that, little girl?

"You heard me. Chris is your ace in the hole? More like the crutch that's gotten you cowards this far."

"We don't need the help of a dirty, rotten traitor!"

"Calm yourself, Margaret," cautioned Malcolm.

"I am calm! I'm just trying to…!"

Sam wasn't done. "Can't you do anything with your own hands? You know, if they had sent Chris here instead of you two, we really would have been finished. As it is…"

Like a bullet out of a gun, Margaret ran up to Sam, honestly frightening the latter.

"Oh yeah? Okay! Since you want to die so badly, how about I crush you with my own hands?!" She spotted something to increase the fun. Cracking a smirk, she picked up Dyson's fallen marbles. "What irony. Killed by your own gadgets!"

"H-Hold on, Margaret! That's what she wants you to…!"

Dozens of marbles had already hit the energy cage by the time Malcolm figured out what was going on. A huge flash of light forced the SOAP spies to shield their eyes.

"...Dammit."

While he was irate, Malcolm also wasn't surprised to see Sam, Alex, and Clover freed from their prison.

"Thanks for the assist!" said Sam with a wink.

"W-Wha…?!" Margaret blinked over and over as if the scene in front of her would change. "How did they…?!"

"Those marbles," said a snarling Malcolm, "they disrupted the barrier's energy. One alone likely would have done no good, but you throwing them all at once...that's a different story."

Margaret's eyelid jerked. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't.

"Who are you?" Malcolm asked Sam. "To not only figure out those marbles were your only salvation but to also gode your opponent into doing all the work for you…!"

The WHOOP spies surrounded their SOAP counterparts. Margaret, still in utter shock, was even more bewildered at how the tides had been completely turned.

"You've got a date with my fist, Miss Loudmouth!" Clover declared.

"I usually don't enjoy beating up baddies," Alex pounded her fist into her other hand, leaving no doubt in mind what she had planned for her soon-to-be victims, "but I'll make an exception for you!"

Sam pointed a stern finger at Malcolm, who jumped. "You asked who we are, right? It's not that complicated. We're WHOOP spies!"

"WHOOP...spies…beating us? Impossible!"

"Looks like your girlfriend over there isn't the only hothead!"

Malcolm clenched his teeth. Like Margaret, he was unable to accept the circumstances for what they were.

"It's time for you two to talk!" said Sam.

"Ha! Forget it!" said Margaret. "No matter what you do, we'll never utter a single word!"

#

"Okay, okay! We'll talk! Please stop hitting me in the face!"

Dyson was left in awe at Margaret being reduced to a sniveling, bloodied mess. Malcolm didn't fare much better. Sam finished tying the two up and wiped her hands.

"There," she said with a smile. "Still want to fight?"

"N-No, thank you," mumbled Malcolm, nursing a bloodied nose.

Margaret, sniffling, added, "Y-You didn't have to be so rough on us!"

"That's for going through my stuff!" cried Clover.

"Phew!" Alex was all smiles now. "That felt really good!"

"T-Take it easy, girls. You're beginning to sound like all the baddies we take down," warned Sam.

"Impressive as always, ladies. You three never fail to take my breath away."

Sam, Alex, and Clover swooped upon Dyson at once, unwilling to share his flawless smile.

"Sorry I wasn't much use," he added. "Guess I should've thought things over before rushing into the fray. I learned a lot watching you girls though, especially you, Sam. That was some quick thinking there!"

"I-It was nothing…"

Laughing like an idiot, a blushing Sam didn't notice Clover and Alex debating on strangling her.

"Don't get too big a head, Sammy," said Clover. "Someone might pop it."

"Wait, how did you become a WHOOP spy, Dyson?" asked Alex. "You…?"

"M-Mind if I sit down?" Dyson, grimacing, helped himself to a spot on the sofa. "I...got banged up more than I'd like to admit."

The girls swarmed him again, making him chuckle.

"I'm fine," he assured them. "Still, this is no time to laugh. While I'd like to explain things clearly to you gals, we don't have much time. I don't know about you three, but I've lost all communications with WHOOP."

As shocking as the news was to his fellow WHOOP spies, Margaret cackled in a manner that suggested she was already filled in on current affairs.

"You may have won the battle, but it's SOAP who's going to win the war!"

"Oh, be quiet already." Clover hit her atop the head. "Nobody was talking to you."

"I-I'm sorry! Lay off me already! That really hurts!"

"I'm not sure what's going on, but her claim is likely more than brash talk," said Dyson. "You three should get going to WHOOP. I might be banged up, but I can take care of our SOAP guests."

"I wonder about that," said Malcolm. "Maybe something has happened. If so, perhaps it's too late for you to do a thing."

Alex whacked him with a rolled up magazine. "Nobody asked you."

He grumbled under his breath but otherwise complied.

"You know more than you want to let on. Why not fill us in?" suggested Sam.

Malcolm chose not to reply.

Margaret, on the other hand, blared, "Save it, brat! You're wasting your breath! Beat us up all you like! We will never betray SOAP!"

"SOAP, huh?" Malcolm shook his head. "...Is the SOAP of today even worth all this trouble?"

Margaret blinked. "What's...gotten into you?"

"Think about it. We're a shell of our former selves. No, even worse. How I long for the days when the might Scar led us toward victory. Now that Claw is running the show...I don't see much of a future for us."

He leered up at the WHOOP spies. The conviction etched into each of their faces made him nod.

"I'm...beginning to understand how even Scar lost to you girls. Even when things seemed their bleakest, you didn't give up. I confused your resolve with stubborness, stupidity even. That's why we lost. ...It's the same for that traitor. That's why I can't stand her. She has the same eyes as you three, the same resolve."

"...And where is Chris now?" Sam asked.

"Malcolm! You aren't seriously going to…!"

"That girl is likely at your main base. If you want to save her, then you three had best get going as soon as possible. SOAP is about begin the final stages of our plan."

"Come on." Margaret's tone was dejected, desperate even. "Don't...say anymore. You'll be a traitor too at this rate."

Malcolm closed his eyes. He might not have said anything, yet, she could tell he was alright with such a fate.

"You heard the man. Get going," said Dyson. "Sorry, but it looks like I need a bit more training before I'm ready to save the day. I'll leave it to the real Super Spies."

Sam, Alex, and Clover required no more convincing. All except Sam ran out of the penthouse without a moment's delay.

"...Thanks."

Sam gave Malcolm a grateful nod and then went on her way as well.

"I guess I really am a traitor," he said moments.

"No," Margaret argued. "...You're just hopeless. Then again, so am I. I guess we'll just have to be hopeless together."

"...I'd like that."

#

Leaving a hallway full of fallen and groaning agents in her wake, Chris proceeded into the bowels of WHOOP. It wouldn't be long until she reached her objective. She encountered no more resistance as she trekked her way into the heart of the building, a strange fact in light of how much trouble she had fighting her way through beforehand. Her only foes were a pair of thick, metal doors. Even they posed no challenge; she ripped open a hole big enough for her to squeeze through. Total darkness awaited her on the other side, save for the faint glow of a nuclear reactor in the center of the room. Her footsteps bounced off the walls as she trekked to claim her prize.

That was when all the lights flickered on.

"Jerry was right on the money as usual," remarked Britney.

"Yep. She came alright," added Blaine. "How's it going, Chris? You haven't forgotten about us already, have you?"

"Sorry, but we're here to stop you! We'd rather not have to fight you again, but if that's what it takes, then get ready!"

Saying nothing, Chris charged at them.

"Yep. I knew it'd come to this," Blaine groaned.

Britney replied, "She never was one for conversation."

They already knew to take extreme caution with Chris. That was why they scattered and forced her to focus on only one of them. She chose Britney, much to the latter's displeasure. Blaine wasn't even given a chance to make a surprise attack like he and Britney planned. His partner was too busy ducking and dodging for her life.

"Remember who you are already, Chris!" Britney said in the midst of blocking a stiff kick. Her efforts were reward by a knee to the stomach.

"Britney!" Blaine had no time to check on her. Chris closed the gap between them in the blink of an eye. "We're not who you should be fighting, Chris! Open your eyes!"

A leg sweep knocked him off his feet. The next thing he knew, Chris had her fingers around his throat. She began squeezing the life out of him. His scratching and clawing did little good.

"C-Chris…" he choked out. "This is only helping SOAP! It's only helping Scar!"

Chris' grip loosened. She froze. The opening gave Blaine the room to toss her off of him and across the room. Landing on her feet, a moaning Chris clutched the sides of her head.

"S-Scar…? Wha…? G-Gah! It...hurts! IT HU-UUUUUUUUUUU-RTS!"

"W-What did you do?" Britney asked, limping over to her partner.

Blaine noticed her holding a hand on her chest. "You alright?"

"...No. She cracked a few of my ribs. Still, she's clearly in far more pain."

"Y-Yeah…"

Though gasping for air, Chris straightened up and seemed to compose herself.

"What now?" a cringing Britney inquired.

"We just have to push a bit more!" Blaine roared. "I know the real Chris is in there somewhere! My words got through to her! Now's not the time for us to be shaking in our boots!"

"Right! If she gets this generator, it's all over!"

"Come on, Chris! We aren't losing this time!"

Chris, still holding her head, quietly uttered, "Accursed...WHOOP spies!"

END