Dateline: Sunday, July 5, 1981, 7:37 PM, Parisian Standard Time.

The business end of Monsieur Mincemeat's sword glimmered faintly in the light of the setting sun. In a state of panic, Python projected a force field around herself. She wanted to be a lot of things in her lifetime, but dinner wasn't one of them. The sword bounced off the shield and landed on the ground.

"What is this?" Mincemeat asked. "I thought the power of Python was invisibility!"

"And I thought you would have hair. I guess we're both wrong!"

Mincemeat growled as he picked up his sword again. He swung it horizontally, wanting to slice her across her chest. Alas, his attack was blocked once again. A few more wasted blows later, Mincemeat was very much annoyed. "Is that all you can do?" he jeered. "Can't you fight back?"

"I'm glad you asked," Python responded smiling. "Shadowblade!"

Shouting that word didn't really do anything, she only did it for dramatic effect. Python had formed another force field in the shape of a sword, which she held in her hand. "Enguarde, monsieur!"

This short American super thinks she can out-fence me? Mincemeat smiled a devious smile and tapped the Shadowblade. Then he swung at her. Python blocked the thrust. Mincemeat began to advance, forcing her to back up. Python felt her back against the wall, and lost her focus. Before she could react, Mincemeat's blade struck her just above the eye. Python winced as she fell.

"Excuse me, you don't mind if I…?" the villain said. He dabbed his finger against her freshly opened wound and brought the blood to his lips. "Hmm. It's a little sweet, but that should be no problem. I've got plenty of salt. Huh?" Mincemeat didn't notice that his enemy had recovered. Before he could react, Python gave him a sharp jab right in the old breadbasket. He moaned in agony.

"Get up and fight like a man, you lummox," she taunted as she called the Shadowblade back into her hand. Mincemeat got up. He seethed with rage, then he charged at his foe. Just as he was about to connect his blade with her flesh again, she took two steps to the left. Mincemeat, unable to stop himself, crashed into a wall.

"I hate comedy fights," he whined. Mincemeat spun to face Python. "All right, you win this round, but our little bought is not yet finished!"

"Bring it on!" she said, lifting her sword. Python figured she could get the upper hand by stepping forward, so she did. Mincemeat was forced into a retreat. He was backed into a wall, just like Python was before. But just as she was preparing to deliver the final blow, Mincemeat stepped sideways, and Python's blade hit nothing but air. She had to react fast if she wanted to keep her edge, but alas, she did not.

Mincemeat struck Python on the shoulder. She grabbed it in pain, dropping her sword in the process. Python noticed that Mincemeat didn't draw any blood, yet she felt a sharp pain like something internal had been ruptured. While she was concentrating on her injury, Mincemeat prepared to strike once again. Python screamed and put up a shield to protect herself. The sword didn't touch her, but it did slice right through the shield.

What the…? It's supposed to be stronger than that! Mincemeat raised his blade one last time, and struck Python with swing so forceful, it shattered the very air. She went flying, and hit the ground pretty hard. Python groaned in anguish. She tried to get up, but her arm still hurt very much. Feeling like she had finally been defeated, she rolled over on her back to face the sky. Monsieur Mincemeat was standing over her.

"How does it feel to tumble to the dirt?" he taunted, pointing his blade at her. "You tried your best and you failed miserably. Some hero you turned out to be."

Python could have snapped back at him, but she was busy formulating a plan. She tried to call the Shadowblade back, but nothing happened. It didn't matter, because the cannibal was still monologuing, so she had time to think of something else. Python observed that he wasn't looking at her anymore. She turned invisible and waited for the right moment.

"Well, that's enough of that, let's get you home so I can…Hey, where'd she go?"

That was the very line she was waiting for. Python delivered a swift kick to his crotch, and when he winced, she grabbed his leg and flipped him like a pancake. Then she grabbed his sword and pinned his shirt to the ground. Python reappeared and went on to deliver a few kicks in the head, just enough to knock him out, but not kill him.

Full of victorious pride, Python tried to pull the handcuffs out of her suit, only to find that they weren't there. The she remembered that she left them on Dr. Game Show back in the States. Still, she had to bind the monster in case he woke up before the police came by. She looked around and found a piece of rope sticking out of a trash can. Python pulled it out and used it to tie up Monsieur Mincemeat. Then she ran out of the alleyway to the nearest phone booth.

"Yes, that's right, sir," she said in French, "just behind Bourbon Street. Hurry, he'll wake up soon."

In no time at all, the French police arrived. Python had to help them load the cannibal onto the paddy wagon, because of how heavy he was. She then pulled his sword out of the ground and handed it to the cops.

"Here, you may need this as evidence," Python said.

"Nonsense!" said one of the officers. "You should keep it, as a souvenir!"

"Well, if you insist, how could I refuse? Right, then, I guess I'll be on my way…"

"But you can't leave now, Python! You only just got here! Stay a while, enjoy Nice!"

"I can't, I'm needed back in California."

"Surely, you could stay for just one evening? Work off that jet lag, lick your wounds? See the city? Nice throws a grand Mardi Gras party, you know!"

"What are you, a police officer or a travel agent?"

"You do what you can when you're short on money, no?"

Python smiled. "How true, how true. I suppose I could stay here for one night."

"Fantastic!" And then they left. Python found a public restroom to change in, and was back on the street as an average American tourist.

While she was walking, Violet contemplated the new weapon she had acquired. She had done better than she thought she would with the Shadowblade. Maybe she could use this real blade someday. Now she understood why other supers grabbed weapons form their vanquished enemies. You know finder's keepers and all that.

"I shall call this blade Venom, and it shall be mine, and it shall be my Venom! Dash is going to get a real kick out of this! I wonder where he is right now, and how he's doing against whatever bad guy he's facing?"

(A/N: So? How was that? I'm really proud of this battle, I think it's my best one yet. Tell me the truth, so that I can make the next part better. And stick around, because the fun is just beginning!)