Chapter 10

To Buttercup's surprise, the Gritz hadn't changed one bit since the last time she was here. The windows were still pitch black from years of dust and smoke, the painted paneling still peeling, and the wooden sign still appearing to be carved by a pocketknife. A tiny bell clanged as she pushed the black door in and entered the café. Even the interior looked the same as before: two yellow lamps hung from each side of the room, casting a soft, dim light on the dozen or so unpolished tables haphazardly placed around. There was, however, one huge difference between this visit and the last: people.

Unlike the last time, the joint was jumping. A psychedelic rock song blasted through a small stereo on the wall as Buttercup saw that each table was occupied, surrounded by crowds of obnoxious thugs and the occasional wannabe trailer park floozy. Groups of smarmy-looking crooks played poker as some trashy babes smoked menthols and buzzed around them like flies at a picnic. A few couples hid in the shadows, their dark bodies waving slightly as they fondled each other. Several greasy men lined the bar, tended by the same cigar-smoking, spiky-chinned hostess as before. Every now and then an equally unattractive waitress would weave through the masses carrying trays of burnt garlic fries and pitchers of cheap beer.

Buttercup floated through the crowd, still barefoot, to the only remaining seat at the counter. She sat, the stool cushion squishing beneath her weight. Not one of the men at the bar noticed her. She tried to remember if she had any money with her, but was quickly interrupted by the hostess lumbering over to her, her deep-set eyes glaring at her.

"Whadaya want?" she rasped, blowing a puff of smoke in her face. Buttercup shrugged, folding her arms and leaning forward.

"What's the strongest shit you got?" she asked.

"Scotch or bourbon?" the hostess grumbled.

"Surprise me," Buttercup sighed. "With Coke."

The hostess slapped her filthy dish rag on the counter and lumbered away to mix the drink. She came back and slammed the drink in front of Buttercup, splashing almost half of it out of the tumbler. Buttercup stared at it, slowly looking up at the hostess, then back to the glass. She frowned. The hostess narrowed her eyes. Buttercup then rolled her eyes, grabbed the glass and knocked it back in one gulp. She slammed the glass on the counter, smacking her lips.

"Another."

"That wasn't a shot," the hostess said with a smirk. Buttercup shook the glass and smiled.

"Another, please."

Over the next fifteen minutes, Buttercup threw down almost a dozen drinks. She didn't feel anything yet – a pro to this superpower thing that Buttercup never mentioned to her sisters. She wouldn't feel anything until at least another dozen drinks. She wasn't even worried about how much her tab was adding up; all she was worried about was balancing the bitterness in her with as much alcohol as possible. What the hell else did she have to lose?

On her thirteenth glass of Jack and Coke, Buttercup found her eyes wandering around the room, gazing at each lousy lowlife. Each one looked lousier and lousier as she went, too, gambling their troubles away or drinking themselves into a pitiful stupor. She momentarily considered the idea that every possible stereotypical drunk had to be crammed in the restaurant tonight: the groping, nasally bimbo; the loud-mouthed tough guy; the blue-collar chump; the slick, martini-sipping hustler; and even the moping, middle-class housewife.

Which stereotype was she? Buttercup huffed and threw back the rest of her drink.

Then, she saw them. Right through the blurred bottom of her glass, in the corner of the restaurant, there he was, the one person Buttercup never thought she'd be happier, or angrier, to see.

"Ace."

Déjà vu was hitting her harder than ever. The greasy hair was a dead giveaway, as well as the dark green face. He was sitting, his head bent low, with that same girl she remembered from the mini-mart. They were both dressed in black, almost camouflaged in the shadows. The girl's short brown hair fluttered past her ears as she giggled inaudibly at something. Buttercup didn't realize how young this chick looked last time she saw her – she couldn't have been more then twenty. Well, Ace did seem to have a thing for jailbait anyway, didn't he? Buttercup smirked. Buttercup herself was barely eighteen when she and Ace had their clandestine affair. Upon further inspection, his new girl actually kind of resembled younger Buttercup, with the same short hair and heavy black eyeliner. Funny if her name was similar, wouldn't it? Buttercup then tried to remember the girl's name… didn't Ace introduce them? What was her name? It was short, and started with an "s"…

Ace grinned and looked up, glancing across the room through his sunglasses. Buttercup turned away, avoiding his gaze. She winced, thinking he might've seen her, but from the corner of her eye, she saw him go back to his conversation unfazed. She stared off again as the hostess came by with another drink. What the fuck was that girl's name? Buttercup went through all the "s" names she could think of, but none of them fit. She took a sip, her eyes settling on a group of card-players nearby. One of the players crushed his cigarette on the table.

"Whatcha got, Ralph?" he asked over the noise. Ralph, the man across from the other guy, placed his cards on the table. He spoke through the Marlboro nestled between his lips.

"Four aces and the queen of clubs."

"WHAT?!" Ralph's friend snapped, standing up and knocking the chair back behind him. Ralph sneered and shouted at him.

"Four motherfuckin' aces and the queen of clubs!"

Ace and his girl glanced at the card-players. The girl frowned and looked back at Ace. She shook her head. They went back to their conversation.

Just then, Buttercup remembered her name. Strike. Her name was Strike. Evie Strike, to be exact, better known as the "Queen of Clubs." Why didn't she think of it before?

Buttercup dropped her glass. It shattered on the floored with a muffled crash. She didn't care; she was busy keeping herself from bolting across the room and strangling the Queen on the spot. But she couldn't make a scene. Not here. Not now. The nasty conscious in her head, the one that sounded scarily like Blossom, told her to do anything but kill the bitch. Buttercup grabbed the counter for support. She felt the mahogany splintering in her grasp. Her pulse pounded in her temple. She must wait. Wait, Buttercup. Wait. She would kil-- confront them outside the second they left.

As the heavens would have it, Ace and Strike suddenly stood up. Buttercup's heart raced. Ace tossed a few bucks on the table and Strike led the way through the horde of customers. Buttercup looked away from them, listening for the little bell to tingle on their way out. It did, a blast of cold air whooshing through the doorway. The bell tingled once more and the door slammed shut. Buttercup gave them a few seconds head start. Then—

WHOOSH!

"ACE!" Buttercup roared as she busted through the door and out into the street. She snarled. "STRIKE! WHERE ARE Y—"

Suddenly, she felt a sting of blazing hot pain race through her arm. Buttercup tried to steady herself in midair, but she fell, collapsing on the damp sidewalk. Her head began to swim, and the world started to darken. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out except a sickening gurgle. She clutched her arm, looking for the source of the pain. She felt it. Buttercup looked down, trying to see the strange object plunged in her arm. She couldn't make it out through her foggy vision. She tried to speak once more.

"…wh…wha… what?..."

Then a strong hand grabbed at her face. Evie Strike stared at Buttercup with her piercing ice blue eyes, an evil grin smeared across her face.

"This'll be fun, won't it?"

Buttercup swallowed. Her body shuddered. She fainted.

***

The others were up bright and early the next day. By 9 AM, Blossom, Brick, Bubbles, Boomer, and Butch were saying good-bye to the Don, and within moments, were off on their way to West Virginia. They had to be careful not to be seen by any civilians, and when they did get to the location, which happened to be near Sabine in the southwestern part of the state, they had to remain unseen. The sight of five colorful streaks in the sky wasn't exactly normal in coal country, Appalachia (it wasn't really normal anywhere outside of Townsville, to be honest).

They didn't arrive near the location until late afternoon/early evening. Blossom took this opportunity to take a break at an abandoned campsite while Bubbles and Boomer left to grab something to eat. They couldn't explore the hills until nightfall, so they had a few hours to kill. Butch sat on a picnic table, staring off into the forest. Blossom sat near Butch, jotting down notes in a small pad of paper she had brought with her. Brick sat across from her, watching her curiously as she would stop, think a moment, and then excitedly write down her ideas.

"What exactly are you doing?" Brick asked. Blossom glanced at him.

"Just trying to figure this stuff out," she replied. She closed the notebook and tucked it into her backpack.

"Didn't you keep a diary last year?" Brick leaned back against the table, arms folded across his chest.

"I think so," Blossom said vaguely. She remembered, of course, but she really remembered hiding that sucker in her bureau, hoping never to see it again. The record itself was what kept her peace of mind, not the contents therein. She did remember how much she complained about Brick, but she chose not to let him know that.

"I wanna read it," he said suddenly. Blossom snorted.

"Why would you wanna do that?"

"To read all the juicy insults you wrote about me," Brick looked at her and smiled. Blossom's face drained. Did he hear her thoughts?! Brick narrowed his eyes, his grin widening.

"Ha! I knew it," he laughed. "So do you actually keep track of ideas or do you just write down all the things you don't want to say out loud?"

"I don't know," Blossom spat. She sniffled. "Both."

"Ha," Brick eyed her backpack. Blossom dragged it closer to her with her foot. She glared at him. Brick rolled his eyes. "Please. God forbid someone's interested in your thoughts."

Blossom opened her mouth to retort back, but she couldn't think of anything to say. That was almost a compliment. Or he was just nosy. Maybe both?

Bubbles and Boomer came back with some pizza. They ate, with the exception of Butch, who seemed unusually aloof. Blossom was curious as she failed to recall a time that he seemed so distant. He was normally loud and abrasive, more or less the life of the party. His brooding was unsettling, but Blossom understood. She couldn't imagine what he was going through… but then again, why should she worry? There was still some amount of animosity, probably mostly on her part, but he still hurt Buttercup, and yes, Blossom was still adjusting to the new friendly relationship between her sisters and the boys. At the same time, though, he was the father of her niece and her sister's love. Blossom then realized how weird it was to think of it like that. Her sister's… ex? Her niece's dad? Hm. Blossom stared at him. After a moment, he looked up, his eyes like tiny slits. Blossom flashed him a friendly smile. He didn't return it. He rested his head on his arms and continued staring into the forest.

After dinner, they patiently waited until dusk, making small talk and wondering who the Queen of Diamonds could be. By sunset, it was still light out, but dark enough in the forest to start exploring. Bubbles took care of their leftovers with a quick disintegrating laser blast, and they were on their way.

They floated silently through the trees, drifting off every now and then on their own. It was very dark, the moonlight barely slipping through the leaves, but they got used to it fast. Boomer stayed close to Bubbles, following a somewhat trodden footpath headed south. He was briefly reminded of last year when he and Bubbles spent a month wandering through the dense island jungle for a hidden laboratory. He tried not to think about it too long – it just upset him. He found that he secretly missed it, and why he did was something he'd really rather not dwell on. Meanwhile, Brick zoomed off far ahead east, Blossom a short distance to the north, and Butch overseeing the rear in case they missed anything. After an hour or so, it seemed as if they were going nowhere. Frustrated, Blossom headed over to Brick.

"This is ridiculous," she hissed. "We're looking for a mine, right?"

"Yeah?" Brick replied with a shrug, not really paying attention to her.

"And why would a mine be hidden in the forest? Mines are usually huge, great big industrial parks…"

"It's a covert warehouse leading to underground tunnels," Brick explained irritably. "It wouldn't exactly be in the open, would it?"

"It would at least be seen from above the trees, yes?" Blossom argued.

"Maybe," Brick said. "But we can't exactly blow our cover with you flashing pink above the forest, though, can we?"

"I will not flash pink! I'm just gonna float up and check it out," Blossom said, starting to quietly float up above the trees. Brick immediately turned around, grabbed her foot, and yanked her back down. Blossom glared at him.

"How dare you—"

"I'm not letting you blow our cover!" Brick growled. "A floating chick in the sky isn't good either."

"Do we even know who might see us?" Blossom demanded. "For all we know, Gemma's probably by herself and not even watching the skies."

"Clearly, you have no concept of real criminal activity," Brick sneered. "There's safety – and security – in numbers. She's got accomplices constantly watching the place, I guarantee it."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure she hired a bunch of hillbillies to watch her shiny jewelry," Blossom commented. Brick looked at her funny.

"Wow," he said, an eyebrow rising. "That was kinda un-PC of you."

"You know what I meant," Blossom grumbled. She immediately felt awful, but tried not to show it.

Then, there was some rustling, down below in the bushes. Brick and Blossom listened carefully. Blossom scanned the area, looking for the source of the sound. It wasn't Butch or Boomer and Bubbles; she could easily see them off in the distance. The noise was straight ahead, and it sounded… fast. It scrambled away, the bushes quivering as it zoomed through. Blossom instantly pushed Brick after it, whispering to him,

"I'll get the others. Follow it!"

He nodded and glided through the trees after it. Blossom took off to get the others, and together they headed back after Brick, zipping through the forest as fast and stealthily as possible. Whatever was moving clearly knew the area, slipping effortlessly through the undergrowth. Whether it was a person or creature, though, was still a mystery. They followed it for almost twenty minutes until, just as sudden as it started, it stopped. It seemed to be hiding in a small tree, and they all drifted in closer for a better look.

"Where'd it go?" Bubbles asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"There." Butch pointed ahead, and Blossom almost kicked herself on the spot. Right there, just past a few large trees was an opening leading to a huge, two-story warehouse. It was probably once abandoned, given the freckled rust on the tin siding, and the only signs of life were a lit lantern hanging by the door and a dim light in the far left second story window. The front was covered in various junk, including a few ancient, broken down cars and many busted up boxes. Blossom then smiled to herself, happy to see no sign of any henchmen on the property.

"So that's it?" Boomer asked. Brick nodded.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be," he said.

"That was easy," Boomer chuckled.

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" Butch exclaimed, pushing through them and heading towards the opening. "Let's crash this place…"

Brick grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt.

"What are you, nuts?" Brick snapped. "There's gonna be guys hiding behind all that junk…"

"I don't see anything," Blossom said. "I told you. Come on, let's go."

"No!" Brick said. "We have to be careful! And of all the people I have to remind to do that…"

"We'll be fine!" Blossom huffed, ignoring the last comment. "Let's go. With caution."

They drifted past the trees and into the opening. Blossom made sure to keep her eyes peeled, ready to get a glimpse at any other sign of movement. They floated in midair a moment, taking in their surroundings. Then, they slowly eased themselves to the ground, staring ahead at the warehouse.

"So, we just bust on in, right?" Bubbles asked.

"What else is there to do?" Boomer agreed.

"Well," Brick though aloud. "We can crash through the window and meet up with her right away."

"Or we can sneak through the back and try to avoid any trouble," Blossom suggested.

"Or ya'lls can scooch yer trespassin' selves right offa this here property!"

They whirled around, only to meet a series of huge, large barreled shotguns aimed right at their faces. Each gun was wielded by a pink, furry, monstrous being, with bulbous green noses and two antennae tipped with blue-grey bulbs. There were over half dozen of them, each in various sizes, all glaring at them.

"Lumpkins!" Bubbles gasped.

"Holy…" Butch's voice disappeared, but it was exactly what they were all thinking. Who knew that lumpkins were found outside of Townsville? Holy something indeed.

"Now ya'll kin jus' float on outta here 'n' no one gets hurt, mkay?" One of the lumpkins drawled, pressing the gun to Boomer's chest. Blossom shook her head and turned around. To her horror, there were even more lumpkins, five – ten – twenty – dozens of them. Most of them had similar guns, some with some random melee weapons, the bigger ones with nothing at all. Blossom backed away with a gulp.

"We're not going anywhere," Brick announced, glaring into the barrel of the gun aimed at his forehead "Not until you let us see Gemma Pietra."

"The Queen don't wanna see you," one of the lumpkins said. "So all ya'll kin go on 'n' scram."

"No," Blossom said firmly. "Take us to the Queen of Diamonds now."

"I don't think so," the lumpkin facing Blossom said. He jabbed the gun into her stomach. "Now, git!"

"You don't wanna shoot us," Brick said menacingly, staring down at his respective lumpkin.

"Noooo?" the lumpkin said, cocking his gun.

"You can't hurt us," Brick said simply. "So, back off. Don't waste your buckshot, do you?"

"I'll shoot whatever I wanna shoot," the lumpkin snarled. "And it looks like it's gon' be you."

"One more time," Blossom warned. "Take us to Gemma or else."

"Or else what?" her lumpkin asked.

"This."

Butch wasted no further time and exploded in a blast of lime green electricity. Several guns went off, lumpkins firing at will or accidentally firing from the blast, but nothing before the heroes began pounding away at the horse of creatures.

Bubbles and Boomer teamed up, back to back, whirling around in the air as lumpkin after lumpkin leapt at them, biting, kicking, and scratching. Bubbles punched and kicked, Boomer rammed his powerful fists into the fuzzy pink fur. Nearby, Blossom flew high above the army, sending of laser beams left and right. The lumpkins, though, proved much more vicious than anticipated. After realizing their guns did nothing, the lumpkins pounced in the air after the heroes, ripping at their ankles, desperately trying to sink their yellow teeth into their limbs. They went from dangerous guardsmen to ferocious animals in no time, and the heroes tried their best to fight back. Brick spiraled up in the air, took a deep breath, and scorched the enemies with an enormous blast of flames. Several lumpkins howled, the fire burning their pale green faces. Butch rammed himself into a few, head-butting one, elbowing another, one critical blow after another. No matter what happened, though, the lumpkins didn't seem to let down. Every time the team would turn around, another batch of lumpkins were after them, just as violent as the last.

Blossom rocketed off into the air, gasping and trying to catch her breath. She watched the fight below, grimacing. The lumpkins just kept coming, flowing from the bushes and trees, ripping her fellow heroes to shreds. Brick blew a fireball at a particularly fierce lumpkin that had sunk his claws into Butch's leg. Boomer and Bubbles visibly grew more and more exasperated, over-exerting themselves with every new foe. There were just too many of them, and if the heroes didn't change tactics soon, they were going to lose by sheer exhaustion.

Blossom hurriedly surveyed the area, searching for a solution. What could Blossom do? What could any of them do? Something else had to be done… or else. The broken cars looked useless. The abundant trash heaps didn't seem too promising either. None of the resources seemed of any use. She spotted several oak barrels lining the wall of the warehouse. Trying her best to avoid the lumpkins, Blossom rushed to the barrels and grabbed one, lifting it effortlessly back into the sky with her. She balanced it between her ankles and ripped one end off. In the barrel was a strong, murky brown liquid. She inhaled – alcohol.

Blossom gazed back at the fight below. The others were still diligently battling the lumpkins, but it was obvious their powers were reaching their limit. The lumpkins were still going strong, though a few backed away, aware that they were winning. Blossom saw Butch explode into another electrical rage, blasting groups away from him as he furiously tried to keep them at bay.

Then, it came to her.

"HEEEEEEEEY!" Blossom screamed.

Somehow, in the heat of combat, everyone stopped. Brick, Butch, Boomer, and Bubbles panted as they stared up at Blossom, horrified. The lumpkins glared at her, some still reaching out for the heroes. Blossom held the barrel at her side, still floating above them all.

"This is going nowhere!" she yelled. "I have a better idea!"

She glided back to the ground, praying the lumpkins wouldn't attack her on the spot. They didn't, seeming to be more distracted by the open barrel in her arms than Blossom herself. Blossom eyed the hordes, a bit surprised she had their attention. She slowly set the barrel down. She took a deep, steadying breath.

"We challenge you… to a drinking contest."

There was a quick buzz of confusion. The lumpkins mumbled amongst themselves as the heroes just stared ahead, still aghast. Blossom bit her lip. She continued.

"One of us versus one of you – our champions will drink until the loser passes out. If you win, we'll leave, no further remarks. If we win, you lead us to the Queen. Deal?"

She waited. There was a painfully long silence. Blossom looked up at Bubbles and the boys, urging them silently that this would work. As long as her assumptions were correct, she surely hoped it would. Suddenly, one of the largest lumpkins stepped out from the crowd and approached her. He has to be at least seven, eight feet tall, and just as much round. His beady eyes glinted at her from above his watermelon-sized nose. He snorted, wiping his nose with his matted furry arm. Blossom smiled weakly.

"Deal?" she repeated.

"Deal." The lumpkin collapsed onto the ground. The rest of the army left the other heroes in the air and gathered around Blossom and the Giant Lumpkin. A few left to grab some glasses and a few more barrels, and placed them next to their champion. Bubbles and the boys drifted over, floating above the lumpkin army, staring at Blossom with unanimous fear. Blossom glanced at them.

"Who's yer champ-yon?" the Giant Lumpkin demanded in his deep, rumbling voice. He looked at Blossom expectantly. Blossom grinned.

"Butch."

"Me?" Butch cried. His brothers and Bubbles turned to him. Even the lumpkins looked up at him. Butch slowly looked around, then turned to Blossom. His eyebrows lifted and his mouth dropped. He pointed to himself. Blossom nodded confidently. Butch tried to swallow.

"Go!" Brick urged, pushing his brother into the ring. Butch stumbled in the air to Blossom, who promptly pushed him onto the barrel in front of the Giant Lumpkin. Blossom grabbed two of the dirty glasses from the ground, scooped each full of alcohol, and placed it on the empty barrel between Butch and the Lumpkin. Blossom patted Butch on the back.

"You can do it," she said. She grinned. Butch merely narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Butch!" Brick shouted suddenly. "We're asking you to out-drink a fucking animal! What are ya, scared?"

Butch snorted… then grinned. Blossom beamed and took a step back. She decided to thank Brick later for properly motivated his brother. Blossom held up her hands.

"On the count of three: one… two… THREE!" She dropped her hands at her side and they were off.

The Lumpkin knocked back his drink in one gulp as Butch tilted back and drank, not once stopping to take a breath. He finished and slammed the mug on the barrel. Blossom immediately refilled their glasses. They drank again, the Lumpkin downing it in one sip once more. Blossom soon realized she should set up more glasses as she filled their third, fourth, fifth, sixth drinks. The next thing they knew, Butch and the Lumpkin were guzzling down the booze like thirsty frat boys, not once taking a break. Blossom quickly refilled their mugs over and over again, grabbing several other glasses and setting them up to keep the flow.

Now the opposing teams were beginning to cheer their champions on, the lumpkins hooting and hollering, and Brick, Boomer, and Bubbles calling for Butch to chug.

"Come on, Butch! One more! One more!"

"You can do it, Butch! Chug! Chug! Chug!"

"Whooo, dawggie! Keep it up, ya yella-bellied swine!"

It seemed like ages before either drinker showed any signs of intoxication. The Lumpkin's body wavered to and fro dangerously, his grip on his mug slipping. Butch's cheeks were flushed and his eyelids began to droop over his bloodshot forest green eyes. If it wasn't the way he looked, it was his sudden happiness that made it obvious. He drained his forty-seventh mug, and dropped it on the barrel. It shattered, and he simply laughed.

"Heh heh, uh-nnnnother one, Bloss-Blossommmm. Heh. I broke it… ha…" Butch tittered to himself as Blossom wiped the glass off the barrel and placed another one in front of him.

So far, the score was even, Blossom personally making sure to keep it that way so the Lumpkin didn't jump ahead. As the contest dragged on, the audience became more and more anxious, especially Blossom. She didn't like that the Lumpkin seemed mostly conscious, even as they approached their sixtieth drink. They were even on their third barrel! She had no idea how much more Butch could have; she really had no clue how far his tolerance was, but she hoped she assumed correctly that it was much greater than hers or the others'. She was also hoping that she wasn't inadvertently endangering Butch, considering she wasn't sure whether they were subject to alcohol poisoning or not. She continued to watch them, pushing her worries aside and refilling their glasses.

All of the sudden, the Lumpkin made a strange noise. He belched, tightening his grip on his glass. Butch leaned back in his seat, letting the alcohol dribbling down his face. Blossom leapt over to stop him from falling backwards, not taking her eyes off his opponent. The Lumpkin did not take his sip, instead trying to keep his head from lulling to the side. His body wavered again. Blossom leaned forward, hoping the creature would finally faint. Much to her dismay, he grabbed the barrel to steady himself and fought his way through the sixty-eighth glass. Blossom begrudgingly refilled his drink and looked at Butch nervously.

The Lumpkin grabbed his mug, but didn't drink it again. Butch happily took his own glass and lifted it in the air.

"Come… come on, you sssstupid lump…kin," Butch slurred. "Either drink or… get… get offa the pot. Pfffffft…" He snickered and knocked his drink back.

Then, as fate would have it, the Lumpkin passed out.

The army of lumpkins roared as Butch stood up eagerly finished his sixty-ninth glass. He finished, tossed the mug aside and lifted his arms victoriously. He won. Blossom and Bubbles screamed with delight as Brick and Boomer zoomed down and lifted their brother in the air. The Lumpkin lay there, unconscious, as his fellow lumpkins groaned and attempted to drag him away. The heroes celebrated, and Blossom stepped aside and stood before the lumpkins confidently.

"We won!" She announced. "Now's the time to take us to your leader."

Amazingly, the lumpkins followed orders, leading the heroes to the entrance of the warehouse. Brick and Boomer helped Butch over, spotted by Bubbles, as Blossom led them through the crowd. One of the lumpkins pushed open the door, giving them a very dark look.

"Sekken floor," he garbled. Blossom smiled at him as they passed by. Bubbles nodded gratefully at him, and the lumpkin slammed the door behind them.