Dear Bart,

London is great and I'm pioneering some really exciting new babysitting concepts. Also, there are weapons everywhere. I even got my very own mace. Isn't that distant?

When I get back to Stoneybrook, the Krushers are going to kill the Bashers.

Kristy

That postcard was to Bart, my sort-of boyfriend. He has his own softball team that plays my Krushers, and sometimes we watch movies and eat popcorn. He's pretty cool for a boy, but I definitely don't like him the way that Mary Anne likes Logan or that Stacey likes everyone. I'm just not interested in that kind of relationship right now.

I told the truth in my postcard; I was having a great time and my babysitting had never been better (also, my mace was just chilly). What I didn't say was that I was pretty miffed at my friends. I had never realized before this trip how wrong their priorities are.

I always knew I was more committed to babysitting than the other BSC girls. After all, the club was my idea. But I hadn't thought things were this bad. Within twelve hours of our arrival in London, Dawn and Jessi had disappeared, Stacey had fallen in love again and Mallory and Mary Anne had taken new jobs. I'm not saying that defending humanity against the darkest forces of hell isn't important, but so is the BSC. And don't even get me started on Claudia (actually, I'll tell you about her in a minute).

So you can see why when Mary Anne abandoned us to go do research in the library, I was pretty annoyed. I was so excited to meet my new charges that I didn't focus on it much at the time.

I was even more excited when Umad led us into the daycare center. I had never seen kids having so much fun! Half of them were humans and half were demons, but they were all happily shooting each other with MyFirstCrossbows with Nerf bolts, sparring with foam swords, and levitating crayons with their mind. This was just dibble.

I wanted to jump right in, but first Umad introduced us to Clem, a large, orange, wrinkly demon with floppy ears (I'm sure Mary Anne would have known the proper name had she been there). Clem shook my hand politely, then turned his attention to Claudia.

"Where did you buy that necklace?" he asked. "It has to be worth its weight in kittens - I mean, gold."

"I made it!" she chirped happily. Claudia is always happy to show off her artistic creations, although I think it's a bit silly myself. Last year it was sheep, this year it's papier mache Jesuses. Personally, I'm happy in my sweatshirt and jeans.

But Clem seemed to be impressed.

"Wow. Do you make things like that a lot? Do you have any idea what demons would pay for your work in some of the wealthier hell dimensions?"

Claudia looked at him, interested. Her parents make her by her own clothes, snacks, and Nancy Drew mysteries, so she's always looking for new ways to make money.

"But how would I get involved in that?" she asked. "I mean, I've always wanted to sell my designs, but I think the samples I've sent to designers must have gotten lost in the mail or something."

"You stick with me, kid," he responded enthusiastically. "What do you think? Should we call it Demonic Designs? Or Carnage Couture?" They wandered off towards the back office, chatting happily.

"Claudia," I shouted after them. "You're supposed to help with the kids."

"I'll help later," she groaned. "Come on, Kristy. You're really harshing my buzz." See? This is what I'm saying about lack of commitment.

Just then, I heard shrieks behind me. A fight had broken out in the daycare center, and fur was flying. Literally.

I waded in, and pulled the participants apart. Fortunately, even though half of them were demons, they were very small demons.

"What's going on here?" I asked in my best "baby-sitter" voice. A little red, horned demon boy was sobbing hysterically.

"She said if she stabbed me with that sword, it would suck me into a hell vortex and I'd be stuck there for centuries!" he wailed, pointing at a little blonde girl, who shrugged innocently.

"There will be no hell vortexes in my daycare center," I said firmly. "Now why would you tell little. . ." I realized I didn't know his name.

"Grizlink," he provided helpfully.

"Why would you tell little Grizlink that?" I asked the girl.

"My mother's a Slayer so it's my job to fight the forces of darkness," she said. "Mommy says demons are minions from hell." Grizlink started crying again, and I noticed several of the other human and demon children were glaring at each other or, in a couple of cases, sticking out their forked tongues.

"Hey, there are no minions of hell here!" I exclaimed. It's important for baby-sitters to reinforce good moral values, like tolerance.

I heard a sob behind me. A small blue child had grabbed a girl's stuffed kitty and was pretending to eat it. As I took the toy away, I started to think.

I could tell that morale at the daycare center was completely stale. I was going to have to do something fast if I wanted to turn things around.

And that was when I had my Great Idea.

I have Great Ideas a lot. In fact, the BSC itself was one of them. I'm also solely responsible for Kid Kits, which are boxes full of toys, games, and craft projects that we take with us when we sit. But this was my best idea yet.

What I needed to do was unite the human children with the demon children, and to teach them that we were all on the same side. I knew that changing their attitudes wouldn't be easy, even with all my previous experience dealing with racism and prejudice. But I was pretty sure that plan would turn things around.

What I was going to do was start a Junior Slayer Squad. It would be just like Kristy's Krushers, except with weapons instead of softballs! I'd turn them into a fully functional demon hunting unit. There was no way it could go wrong!

I put on my best "coach" voice and addressed the assembled children. "Line up. All of you. I want you side-by-side, three inches apart. All right. Now, march. Left, right, left, right."

It worked! The children quickly fell into place, and before long I had them marching around the room. After that, we had running drills, then some routine weapons practice. By the our mid-morning snack came around, they were already thinking like a team. In fact, I was even able to assign them to pairs for sparring without a single fight breaking out.

I knew this was my best idea ever, even better than the maple sugaring I was planning for our Harvest Festival next October. I couldn't wait to demonstrate my elite fighting squad to the others. I'd show Mallory and Mary Anne what babysitting could accomplish.