Flashpoint

Advisory: Smut and shocking twists ahead!

Three weeks later…

"…and that's why the Illumina X 9500 should be the flashlight brand for today's work and play," said Grant.

The presentation was met with applause from his wife and kids.

"Really, though," said Grant. "How was it?"

"It was good," said Leni. "You got kind of monotone in the middle, but I think you effectively sold these flashlights to me."

"You've got a lot of magnetic charm, Dad," added Nora. "They won't be able to say no."

Grant preened at the compliments. He was currently practicing a sales pitch for the Smashville Hardware Gala he'd been invited to. The gala would take place tomorrow night and feature top Fortune 500 companies whose interests lay in what Grant had to sell. But he'd also be pitching products alongside other salespeople across the Nintendo multiverse! He'd never attended such a gala before, and he considered it a great honor. Now that he'd cleaned himself up and pieced himself back together, he felt confident over the potential buyers he'd help attract.

"I'm still a little nervous," he confessed.

Leni came over and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't sweat it," she said. "Just be yourself. Oh, by the way, did you invite…?"

"Yup," nodded Grant.

"What did he say?"

"He said he'd think about it," replied Grant, "and given what happened between us, I didn't press the matter. But I could hear in his voice that he wanted to say 'yes'."

"Nobody said it was gonna be easy," sighed Leni, "but if I can forgive you, then I'm sure he can, too."

"I know. But what I did to you was worse…"

She shushed him. "It happened. There's no sense in talking about it anymore," she said softly. "L, however, has had many people taking advantage of his forgiveness. He wants to make sure that you're not among them."

"I'm not, nor will I ever be."

She slid her arms around his neck and kissed his lips. "L and I—we both know. And so do the kids." She kissed him again, deeper this time.

"Yuck!" cried Alex, wearing a grossed-out expression.

"Uh—kids, could you relax in your rooms for a bit?" asked Grant.

"Okay," said Nora, escorting her siblings upstairs.

Once the door closed after them, Grant picked up his wife, her legs wrapped around his torso, and carried her to the master bedroom, where they wasted no time getting each other naked. Leni gasped deeply as Grant's hand plunged inside her, warmth quickly spilling over his fingers as he sensually moved his hand, and later his fist, in and out. He observed her face, her breasts, her body as he knelt before her, doing wonderful and naughty things to her with his fist.

"God, Grant," she grunted as she bucked into his fist, which increased pace in response. He planted his mouth on her skin and moved it down her body, kissing and licking, his arm pumping deeper, faster, until she started to shudder. "I—I'm gonna…" She propped herself up on her palms, head thrown back, staring at the ceiling as pleasure seized her body. Her hips twisted and jerked, her torso and abdomen pistoned and her chest heaved. "Aaaaaahhhh—Gra-a-a-a-a-nt…"

He slid the hand out and slid his tongue along the moist, glistening area, allowing it to caress both folds. The tongue glided between the lips, the entrance to the crevice, up and down, up and down, until it boldly dove in. Leni went crazy at the feeling of Grant's burrowing, undulating tongue in her core. He placed the palms of his hands on the small of her back, lifting her hips for better access. She thrummed beneath his touch. The bundles and nerves along her muscles danced as his tongue stimulated them. He worked her walls with the tongue, flicking it about them. Licking and sucking at one place for a few minutes before moving somewhere else. It wasn't long before she was pulsing. He could feel the liquid heat welling up like a volcano. Slick walls and muscles writhed about his mouth. Her skin was sweaty now. Her body was jerking. Her voice was chanting litanies. Her breathing, heavy. He looked up from his ministrations and saw her, a beautiful sheen covering her body, her abdomen weaving, her eyes closed, her mouth open. Mouth and tongue continued their relentless game till her lower body began twitching to and fro in a slight corkscrew motion.

Leni couldn't speak—only gasps leaving her lips at the rolling, sliding, undulating tongue. It seemed to be everywhere in her. She lurched, arched her back and spasmed. She felt her world spin. Her being and her soul was being ministered to by this tongue and this mouth. An all-consuming wave started there and moved up to her erratic hips, to her belly, up and up her body. She held back the wave until she didn't think she could take it anymore, when she had no choice than to just open the floodgates and let it come rushing out. But the now winding and swirling tongue had other plans.

His wife's inner muscles were about to invade Grant's senses, so he licked and lapped for about ten more minutes before slowly curving his tongue up and down each swollen wall, and then again, and then circling the tongue at an even slower pace, making six good revolutions and ensuring that she was flopping on the bed before slowly withdrawing his tongue.

She was breathing in stutters. Stutters which increased as he kissed her on and between her domes, slow kisses which led to wrapping his mouth around said domes. Alternating between left and right until she was positively a mess. He allowed her to recover slightly as he fetched a bottle of cocoa butter. She loved it when he brought out the cocoa butter.

Grant straightened, straddled her hips and squeezed the cocoa butter onto her skin. First, two squiggles down her neck. Then, one long squiggle down each arm. Three on her chest. A swath of cocoa butter between her breasts and on to her abdomen. Several squiggles circled each breast. A small dollop topped the buds. Crisscrossing squiggles along her ribs. And a smiley face on her stomach. After he closed the bottle, he began to massage the cocoa butter in. She lay limp on the bed as he worked, feeling his hands travel southward. Her abs felt so nice beneath his palms. So did her breasts as he cupped them, massaging and fondling from underside to tip. Throughout this massage, her belly heaved up and down, especially when he got to her hips. He traced her waistline with creamy fingers before cocking his head to stare at her moisture-beaded mound. So, he squirted a generous amount of cocoa butter onto one hand, got both palms nice and saturated and then…

Leni bit back a scream as her husband stroked her mound with his right hand while going for her already-stimulated folds with his left. There was this tingling heat suffusing the entire area, increasing with each motion of the hands. One finger slid back into the slick, swollen core; it beat against the digit like a second heartbeat. He smiled up at his wife, now unable to even vocalize, just simply gasp inarticulate things as he kept driving the finger in her favorite spot. He placed kisses on her slightly parted lips before kissing all over her cocoa-butter-slathered body, the stuff doing its job and amplifying the sensations of his mouth on her skin. He watched her face, her flushed cheeks, her dilated eyes, her arching neck, and when he saw that she was close, he moved down to where his hands still ministered, placed his mouth between the splayed fingers of his left hand, rounded his lips slightly and inched his tongue back in.

The tongue moved slowly at first, and then faster and faster until it was in synch with the rubbing and stroking. He heard the erratic breathing and felt the violently shuddering body. Walls rippling like seismic waves. She was balanced on the edge, and he was going to tip her over, one centimeter at a time.

"Please…" she managed, her body overloaded with sensations. This was even better than the times they conceived their four children. She closed her eyes and bit into her pillow.

"Soon," he cooed to her, working his tongue past his fingers to join that one finger in sliding up and down her core.

"Gaaahhhh…"

Just now, Grant was conscious of his own aching and throbbing. His head started bobbing up and down as he licked with fervor.

"God…"

He let his imagination run, thinking about how her receptacle would feel. Just the thought made both hands and mouth go wild. Finally, he decided that it was time and willed them both to stop. Then, he aligned himself with her body, pec-to-breast, stomach-to-stomach, and lightly pillowed himself atop her before entering her.

She threw her arms around him, caressing his back, as he thrust excitedly in her. She was surprised that her body didn't unravel right then and there. He was big, long, thick, warm and stout, and she could focus on nothing but each piston into her, letting out everything that had plagued her since their reconciliation. Her hips rocked and rolled to keep pace with his, and she felt herself squeezing him, tighter and tighter.

"L-L-Leni, I…" stammered Grant, struggling to conjure up a cogent thought as his lower body spasmed, slamming himself deeper and deeper. "Uunh—I love you…"

"Nngh! I love you, too!" spluttered Leni.

"I knew I took you for granted, and—I'm sorry!"

"Oh, Grant! I'm sorry, too! I shouldn't have pushed!"

"D-don't be!" The spasms increased, and he was talking through pants. "If you hadn't pushed, then I probably wouldn't be here."

"Ah! Ahhhh…" Leni's vision was whiting out at the feeling of their hips crashing together like the waves of a turbulent ocean. "You're—I—I can't—I'm gonna…"

That was Grant's cue to give everything he had left. Ecstatic, relentless strokes as he let his own tension out. Her skin, sliding against his. Her hips, jerking and swiveling. Her sweat painting her form. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. He took his love for her and held it in—just held it in until he couldn't take anymore, until the ache was irresistible and unbearable and he just had to let go—he just had to…

And he did, fifteen or so minutes later, after one last slam of his hips. He erupted like a volcano, his love spurting into her, his body jolting and jerking and his breaths uneven. Ninety seconds in, she, too, erupted, squirting her love all over his lower body. The thick, pulsing streams seemed to go on for half an eternity. Finally, with one deep sigh, Grant spilled out the last of his love, and the spouses lay there in nirvana, smiling lovingly.

They failed to notice Nora, trying to pick up her jaw from the floor as she scurried back to her room.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Master Hand sat in his office, going over some paperwork, when he heard a knock.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened, and Luigi stepped in, looking better than he did weeks ago.

"Hi, L," said Master.

"Hey," replied Luigi.

"Some G for your thoughts?" offered Master.

"Grant is going to that hardware gala tomorrow night, and he invited me," explained Luigi. "Should I go?"

"Do you want to go?"

"Of course I do. But—there's something holding me back."

"Ah. I see what you mean."

"I lay awake at night, and I hear his words," Luigi said softly. "It's like one of the Bennigan Brothers said them."

"He wants to make up for it," said Master Hand.

"It doesn't change the fact that he said them."

"Did you talk to him about this?"

"He's back in a stable place. Bringing it up will disrupt that."

"L, you need to get this off your chest," said Master. "Discussing this with him will make you feel better."

"What if it doesn't? What if he gets all defensive and says something worse?"

"I think he's learned from his mistakes," Master Hand assured him. "Let me tell you something else: that gala is a big thing. Grant will be measured against the other salespeople who've come there to pitch. Truly a nerve-wracking experience. Being there will help him, don't you think?"

"Yeah," said Luigi. "It will."

"Your presence will also encourage him to continue making amends," Master went on. "If you don't show up, he'll probably get the feeling that you don't have faith in him, so he won't bother trying to stay clean. You know what I'm saying?"

Luigi grinned. "Thanks, MH!"

"No problem."

With that, Luigi exited Master Hand's office and called Grant.

"Yeah?" said Grant.

"I've made up my mind," said Luigi. "I'm going."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

In an undisclosed location, a group of men conferred with a mysterious floating hand sporting wriggling digits.

"Is everything in its proper place?" he asked.

"Yes, it is, just the way you asked," Howard, one of the men, contritely replied.

"I knew I could count on you," said the hand.

"And we knew we could count on you to help us get our revenge on him," smiled Howard. "That'll show him to sic the police on us."

"But remember—it's not just Grant we're after," said the hand.

"We know, we know," whined the men in unison. "We're ultimately gonna destroy Luigi, too."

"Repayment for freeing you from that endless void and all that good stuff," eyerolled Howard. "You scratch our backs, so now we're scratching yours."

"Aw, don't think of it that way," said the hand in a singsong voice. "Think of it as an exchange of favors between friends. You aren't indebted in any way. I'm helping you because I want to help you."

"And we're helping you because we want to help you," nodded Howard, "as does our attorney. I hear you two go way back."

"That's classified," the hand said smartly. "Take care of Grant first, and I'll tell you the whole story."

"I must say—this gala couldn't have been a more fortuitous circumstance," smiled Howard. "The perfect opportunity to spring our little surprise."

"So, you all know what to do, right?" asked the hand. "You won't let me down, right?"

"We've already gone this far, so how can we let you down?" asked Howard. "Plus, we've got Maya's wit and genius to thank. She's overseen the whole shebang, and she's very passionate about all of this."

"And so are you," said one of the other men. "You mince no words regarding how much you hate Grant."

"Grant is merely a toy we can amuse ourselves with," said Howard, "but Luigi—we can fracture and twist him into something unrecognizable."

"Indeed," nodded the hand.

"The trail must not be countenanced," Howard went on. "Luigi must be educated, and we will use Grant to accomplish that."

"You think so much like me," complimented the hand.

"That's because I had excellent teachers," smiled Howard. "Too bad they're in prison now."

"Yeah," sighed the hand. "They were excellent colleagues of mine. Luigi hates their name and what they stand for, but we'll execute this plan in their name."

"We'll instruct him in the matters of loss and pain," hissed Howard. "We'll make him suffer—make him wish he were dead. And then we'll grant his wish."

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down!" cried the hand. "There will be no bloodshed here! Besides, it will be better for him to live out his last days friendless and miserable, yeah?"

Howard shrugged. "Maybe you're right."

"The cunning warrior attacks neither body nor mind," said the hand.

"Then what should we attack?" asked Howard.

"The heart, my friends!" announced the hand. "First, we attack his heart!"

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

The next evening…

The Smashville Hardware Gala was a much-anticipated annual event held at the Smashville Grand Ballroom. The Villagers pulled out all the stops on this occasion, printing out advertisements, offering free or cheap parking and putting up enough lights and banners to make the ballroom visible within a fifteen-mile radius. They had a limo service pick up the presenting salespeople and their families from their homes and drive them straight to the gala and back. There was a catering service which made sure they never ran out of food. And there was music from DJs and live bands to appeal to the younger crowd.

One of the limos arrived at the ballroom's entrance. A valet stepped forward and opened the passenger door, and Grant emerged, confident and professional, dressed in a James Bond-inspired suit and tie. After him was Leni, wearing a ravishing bubble-gum pink gown with a provocative slit up her thigh. Next were the two boys, Danny and Alex, in matching tuxedoes, and finally Nora and Shelia, clad in poufy-sleeved princess dresses. Nora's was bright yellow, while Shelia's was sky blue.

"Just so you'll know," said the valet, "there's a Kid's Area for when the presentations begin."

"Don't worry," smiled Grant. "They've seen me pitch before. If anything, they'll just fall asleep."

Once inside the ballroom, Grant's eye fell upon a face he wanted to see. "L!" he cried, approaching his friend, attired in his usual suit, green vest and tie.

Luigi smiled. "Hey, Grant," he said. "You look like a man on a mission."

The two men shook hands, and then something occurred to Grant.

"L, did you invite people from our support group to come? I think I'd like that."

"I didn't have to. I saw Verne, Caroline and Giulia a while ago."

"Thank you for being here. It means a lot."

"Don't mention it. I'm honored to be at your first gala pitch." Luigi clapped a hand on Grant's shoulder. "Wanna grab something to eat?"

"Sure."

Leni and Daisy caught up with them, the kids trailing behind.

"Sorry," said Leni. "The two of us just got caught up in some girl talk."

They all went to the buffet, where Caroline, Eric, Verne, Giulia and some of the other support group members sat with Yoshi, Peach, Mario, Rosalina, Corrine, Corrin, Link, Zelda, Lucina and some of the other Smashers.

A hostess approached them. "Drink?" she asked.

"Not until after the presentation," replied Grant, "but maybe for my friends."

"So," said Mario. "This must be very huge for you."

"It is," nodded Grant. "I worked my butt off to get to this moment."

"Nice to see you're back on track. Way to go; you're number one!"

"You, Luigi and Leni are my number one. If it weren't for your intervention…"

"I get it," Mario said quietly.

"Thank you," Grant said sincerely.

"Okay, just don't get too mushy, because the next time you slip up like that, that…" Mario remembered the kids and swiftly rephrased himself. "…derriere is mine."

"If you get to him first," Peach chimed in.

"Oh, yeah," Grant said to the Princess. "I know not to get on your bad side." He'd heard stories of how the Mushroom Princess had pounced on Smash's former assistant master of ceremonies with her frying pan and her Parasol.

"But can we stop talking about that?" offered Peach. "Tonight is your special night, Grant. Let's not waste it talking about glum stuff."

"Amen," said Leni.

As they talked, Bayonetta was passing them when her eye suddenly fell on Giulia. Curls the color of oak, plump lips, a winning smile and a curvy body beneath a one-shoulder dress, smoky-colored makeup accentuating her dazzling eyes. The Umbra Witch's heart thundered in her chest as she drank in the police officer. She just had to say hello!

As for Giulia, her policewoman instincts kicked in as she sensed someone watching her, and she turned to see Bayo striding toward her. Ethereal, slender, long, midnight-black hair and a form-fitting dress with a cut-out on both sides of her abdomen. The rest of the dress was sheer enough to offer a glimpse of the body underneath.

"Hello," said Bayo when she reached Giulia.

"Hi," replied Giulia. "You must be Bayonetta."

"I am," purred Bayo, "and you must be Giuliana."

"Please, call me Giulia."

"Very well, Giulia. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all," smiled Giulia.

Bayo made herself comfortable next to Giulia and looked her over. "Where are you from? She asked.

"Las Vegas, Nevada. And you?"

"Not from this world. You see, I hunt angels."

"Why? Angels are good, right?"

Bayo smiled. "It's a long story. Perhaps I could tell it to you later tonight at my place?"

"My place is closer," offered Giulia. "Some angel must've done something to you to make you want to hunt them down. But I hunt down criminals for a living, and I have a bit of a personal grudge against them, too. Especially bullies."

"You were bullied? So was I," Bayo told her.

She heard a gasp and swiveled around to face the other occupants of the table.

"Excuse us," she said smartly. "My new friend and I need to speak in private."

She rose and offered her hand to Giulia, who took it as she also stood. The two women headed off together.

"Hey, uh…" Corrine cleared her throat. "If you don't mind, Grant, Rosa and I can take the kids home and watch them if they get tired."

Grant grinned. "Thanks, Corrine."

Elsewhere, Bayo and Giulia found a table of their own and sat down.

"Did an angel bully you?" asked Giulia.

"It's nothing, really," said Bayo, "but when I first started Smashing, I was accused of being a bit—overpowered. I was even banned from tournament play in Spain. A lot of Smashers didn't hesitate to speak their minds about it."

"Who?" asked Giulia, her eyes narrowing.

"I have no idea, because they complained to Master Hand, not me. None of them dared say anything to my face. But if you played any of my games, then you know that I was already toned down when I arrived in the tournaments. You know my Torture Attacks, yes? And what I did to finish off my battle with Joy?"

"Ugh—yeah, in Smash, you're relatively tame," agreed Giulia.

"Anyway, the majority had their say, and I was nerfed in patch 1.1.6." Bayo spread her hands. "Didn't stop me."

"Bayo, you need to stop acting like it didn't bother you," said Giulia, sliding a card forward. "This is the contact information for Dr. Emily Thorpe, the leader of our support group. Give her a call as soon as you can."

"Thanks, Giulia," smiled Bayo, "but like I said, it was nothing. L had it worse, in retrospect. His nerf was part of a conspiracy. Mine wasn't." Her face softened. "What's your story?"

"When I was a kid, my sister, Bella, and I were picked on for being Italian-Americans and for having two dads. I thought Bella was so strong because she stood up for me as well as for herself, but—she wasn't. Sometimes, I stood up for her more. It only got worse when we grew up. That's why I decided to work in law enforcement. But Bella—she dropped out of college and sank into depression. The harassment followed her wherever she went. I couldn't protect her. And she…"

Bayo rubbed her back. "You don't have to say anymore," she said. She understood.

Giulia smiled gratefully at Bayo. "Buy you a drink?" she asked.

"Sure," replied Bayo.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"…and then she stepped on the ball!" Rosalina finished to peals of laughter.

"Man, oh, man!" gasped Daisy. "That joke never gets old!"

Nora frowned. "What is she talking about?" she asked.

Leni put an arm around her. "You'll understand when you're a little older," she assured her daughter.

A voice came over the PA. "All presenters, please report to the stage area. All presenters, please report to the stage area."

Grant rose. "I guess that's my cue," he said.

Leni kissed his lips. "Break a leg, sweetie," she said.

"Knock em dead!" Luigi chimed in.

"We know you can do it!" called Daisy.

Grant flashed a smile, gave a thumbs-up, and went to join the other presenters. So focused was he on psyching himself up that he wasn't paying much attention to what was in front of him until—

"I am so sorry!" he apologized after nearly crashing into a woman wearing a Mardi Gras mask.

"Thank God I found you!" gasped the woman. "Listen to me, you must not go up there! You mustn't!"

"I'm deeply flattered, ma'am, but I've already made a commitment," said Grant, "and I've brought along my four children, as well."

"I beg of you, reconsider!" pleaded the woman. "You're making a terrible mistake! What do you have to prove, huh? You being up there will mean nothing but trouble!"

"Oh, ye of little faith," chuckled Grant as he moved to step past her.

Moving like a cat, the woman grabbed his arm. "Grant!" she shrieked. "They're all gonna laugh at you!"

Gently but firmly, Grant extricated himself from the woman's grip and left, dismissing her claims as crazed rambling.

He didn't see the woman remove her mask, a sadistic smile forming on her lips. She raised a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "All systems go," was all she said.

Later the attendees congregated at the stage area and took their seats. The Smashers and Grant's family took up the front rows, while representatives from countless companies had a special section of their own. Low chatter permeated through the seating area until the lights dimmed and the emcee stepped out onto the stage.

"Ladies and gents—welcome to Smashville's annual Hardware Gala! I'm your emcee, K.K. Rider, the stunt cyclist! But I can't perform my stunts or wow the crowd without the right hardware powering my motorcycle! And not just my riding skills—my everyday life requires hardware, too! That's why every year, we have the biggest, raddest salespeople come and pitch their wares to us consumers! Are you ready to see what they have in store for us in 2017?"

The audience cheered.

"All right. Then let's put our hands together and welcome our presenters!"

A spotlight panned over to the night's stars—the smartly dressed salespeople, some who had flown in from miles to attend this event. Among them was Grant, note cards in his lap, taking deep breaths and glancing at his family and friends from time to time. Leni blew a kiss. Luigi tossed in a wink. The kids waved.

One by one, the presenters walked up to the podium, armed with note cards and PowerPoint presentations, and pitched their products to the audience. They brought the latest prototypes of the hardware they were advertising and gave descriptive demonstrations on how each part functioned. A few were jittery, and who could blame them, but they converted that nervous energy into fuel for their pitches and used the skills they'd learned from their public speaking courses. A few of them opened up the floor for questions to further calm their nerves.

Grant wasn't paying much attention. Instead, he retreated into his zone, going over the main points of his pitch. He'd noticed a few of his work colleagues in the audience, including his boss, and was pleasantly surprised. Even a few supervisors who tended to pick on him were there. He couldn't wait to show them what for. He didn't strive toward this for them; he strove for this in spite of them. They wouldn't be so quick to exert their authority over them after tonight. Grant half-smiled at the thought. These supervisors had also brought their spouses and children with them. Oh, this was gonna be rich!

Finally, K.K. Rider called his name. Grant took one last deep breath. It was time. He stood, gathered what he needed and walked out to the audience, where the faces were spread before him. Beaming, supporting, applauding. If someone had told him years ago that he was going to have this opportunity, then he would've had them thrown in a mental institution. His confidence in place, Grant began:

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you. Thank you for allowing me the privilege to come here and speak tonight about a product sure to brighten every aspect of your lives." He winked, and the audience chuckled. "Alas, we all have our moments of darkness, moments when you can't really see what's ahead, but the product I'm about to present to you will help you find your way in the dark so that you won't bump or scrape against any hidden objects. Think of it as your little—well, I was gonna say heart-light, but unfortunately, that term is taken, so I'll just go with life-light." More chuckles. "I present to you—the Illumina X 9500!"

Dramatically, Grant flourished the latest prototype for the flashlight, a sleek, stainless steel beauty with a wide, cylindrical head and a band of red around the neck.

"The Illumina X 9500 is tomorrow's flashlight. Its battery life is 5 times faster than those of ordinary flashlights. The secret lies in its battery bank." Grant projected an image onto the screen behind him. "Just insert the batteries in a single click, and this covering will slow the batteries' discharge. Now, let's check out some other features."

He switched to a cut-away view of the flashlight. "First and foremost are the indentations on the sides of the Illumina X 9500. These are not just for show. These indentations ensure a more secure and comfortable grip." He demonstrated with the prototype. "Even better, if you're in a situation where there's little time to react, the switch is located just inches from your thumb. All it takes is a simple flick to turn the Illumina X 9500 on!" He flicked the prototype on and off a few times. "The Illumina X 9500 is powered by 50 LED bulbs, and its shape allows for a longer visual range than other flashlight brands. How about we dim those lights so the audience can see what I'm talking about?"

The lights dimmed slightly, and Grant once again flicked on the prototype. Everyone "oohed" at the nice-sized cone of light emitted from the device.

"Look at that, everyone! You don't see that from your leading flashlight brand, do you?" Grant made some shadow puppets, generating laughs from the audience. He was loving this energy!

Riding on that energy, Grant continued his presentation, showing off the other features of the Illumina X 9500, like the backup battery for when you were short stock on batteries, the USB charging port to charge your devices, the LED clock and alarm system and even a radio and a built in mp3 player to listen to some music. He also described how the device doubled as a self-defense tool: you could use the bright light to stun attackers, club them over the head, or both. The audience leaned forward, gobbling up the salesman's every word.

Unbeknownst to them all, sinister forces were at work. A length of rope ran from behind a curtain to the top of the stage, directly above Grant's head. One end of the rope was secured to a chair leg, and the other was secured to a pulley. And hanging from that pulley was—a bucket full of chicken's blood.

Manning this system were Howard and his crew. Howard knelt beside the rope, penknife in hand, occasionally sneaking glances at the audience. The rest of his crew lounged around, grinning like Cheshire Cats.

"Well?" one of them asked impatiently.

"She'll give the signal soon enough," said Howard. "Right now, though, we wait."

He wrinkled his nose as Grant delivered an anecdote to his audience. "What is she waiting for?"

"The opportune moment," said another of his cronies.

In the audience, the woman, Maya, listened to the pitch without paying much attention to it. Occasionally, she met Howard's eyes. She knew he was impatient. He still had much yet to learn. In time, he'd learn that careful planning and patience was key to a master scheme. Howard reminded Maya of herself when she was learning the tools of her family's trade. And to think she spent much of her early life sheltered from their main enterprise. She'd been given a new name and was raised primarily by her mother's friends and a certain zany white-gloved hand, but there was nothing they could do to fight destiny. And so, she wholeheartedly embraced her dark side, including the anti-Luigi sentiment she'd inherited from her father. She could almost imagine him smiling at her from the bars of his cell.

"If he could see me now," she breathed, sinking back into her seat.

"Who?" whispered Tina, sitting next to her.

"My dad," Maya explained. "He would've loved to see this masterpiece come to fruition."

"Your dad—isn't he…?"

"Shh. Yes. And that man in green took him from me! Who is he to dictate how people should think of him?"

"I concur," said Tina, "but we'll get him—by getting his friend."

Maya sneaked another look at Howard. He was a close relative of her family's. So when she heard of his arrest for desecrating Grant's parents' gravesite, she just had to volunteer her services as a defense attorney. She also knew about Grant—selling this junk to make ends meet—he was a deadbeat just like his old man! Learning of his friendship with Luigi scored her bonus points. And so, she colluded with her clients and with Tina to make the rest of Grant's—and Luigi's—life a living Hell. The stunt about to go down was merely the icing on the cake!

And as for Maya, the brilliant defense attorney, she served her purpose well. But now, it was time to retire that persona and reveal the true woman—the woman behind the mask.

Fare thee well, Maya. Hello, Tanya Bennigan.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Grant was now approaching the apex of his pitch. All eyes were on him. All ears were on him. Truly, he was going to be the highlight of the night!

Not if select audience members had anything to say about it.

Howard was now seated cross-legged beside the rope, his cronies gathered behind him. His grip tightened on his penknife. It was almost time, he could feel it!

The climax of Grant's presentation was also the moment that Maya—er, Tanya—was awaiting. She looked straight into Howard's face. And nodded.

Now, she mouthed.

With one quick swipe, Howard severed the rope, setting their machine into motion.

And seconds later, before a crowd of millions, a crimson curtain descended upon Grant.

Please review!