And now, after a lengthy hiatus, we return with your next dose of insanity that can only come from a nerd who combined three random source materials into one story!

Demencia and Cherri Bomb, possibly for the first time since they arrived on Panau, felt truly at peace. They had just taken their first dose of the Ular Boys' secret drug and quickly found that they were not exaggerating how potent the stuff was. With just one puff out of a bong each, both of them were dazed for hours and could feel their bodies tingling like crazy as it ran through them. If any normal person took this, they might have fallen into a coma at best or died instantly at worst.

For them, though, it was the greatest high ever conceived and with their demonic regeneration in effect it would never lose its potency. The two spent the rest of the day vegging in the jungle just lazily eating some wild fruit and occasionally shooting the breeze (sometimes literally) as the day rolled on. Once they could finally think straight again, night had long since come and so the two followed up on their promise to raid a bar.

Naturally, the first one they found was currently occupied by government soldiers claiming to be providing protection when they were actually abusing their power to get free drinks. When one unfortunate bartender tried gently asking them to leave, a sloshed gunslinger pulled out his pistol and all but demanded the woman hit the sack with him.

"Okay, that's it!" yelled Cherri as she pulled out an assault rifle and stormed in. The offensive guard found his life cut short by twenty rounds being rapidly fired into his chest.

"What the hell-?!"

"Listen up, you fucking assholes! I am a slut, through and through, and I have done some really messed up shit, but that was unforgiveable! Rape is just fucking wrong no matter how you cut it, end of story, and you've got one chance to back off now before I send all of you to my turf in Hell!"

"Fuck you, bitch!" slurred one of goons as he actually tried to stare her down only for Demencia to set him on fire. For once, her insane grin and cheery demeanor were gone.

"Cherri?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to kill them," she blankly stated, "Are you going to help?"

The cyclops lowered her weapon and decided to let her have this one. Demencia, in return, finally got serious as she proceeded to literally tear the militia several new assholes simultaneously. One second she punched a man so hard his head nearly spun 180 degrees, the next she shot a man in the eye while setting his compatriot's face ablaze with one finger. In less than a minute, all fifteen or so of the offending party were charred, mutilated, and bloodied beyond recognition. The demoness refused to touch the meat on any of their corpses and looked half-ready to keep filling them with bullets as she walked up to the stunned bartender she inadvertently saved. She pulled out a pistol and handed it to the stunned civilian woman.

"Go home. If anyone threatens you, point this at them. If they still don't leave you alone, pull the trigger. Got it?"

The woman vaguely nodded and ran for her life as Demencia took a barstool and started chugging the beer that was left on the bar-top.

"Sit down. Have a drink," she offered her partner-in-crime. Cherri did just that and took up an untouched martini that was left nearby from a fleeing patron.

"That was pretty brutal, even for you."

"Yeah…I just can't stand rapists."

"That makes two of us. There's a special set of slums in Hell for people like that and when the annual purge comes around, that's always the first place where demons get axed. Heck, I'd even beat the shit out of one just for funsies or to steal his drugs. It was probably the closest thing I've ever done to a good deed."

"I can respect that…"

The two drank in silence, letting the alcohol calm their senses and slowly sink into a pleasant buzz. As they burned the midnight oil, they actually started talking about their pasts. Demencia went on and on about teaching the art of villainy to up and coming ne'er-do-wells and all the missions she ran in order to please her beloved Black Hat. Cherri mostly stuck to her time in Hell, growing her turf and the escapades she had with the likes of Angel Dust. She even mentioned some dame named Charlie looking to redeem demons so they could go to Heaven instead of being killed off.

"Wow…That's pretty cheesy for a demon to do," commented Demencia.

"Weirdest thing of all? She's supposed to be Satan's daughter, the literal spawn of Hell. But she's probably the nicest one down there while the rest of us try to fuck with each other on a daily basis."

"Whoa…" rasped the lizard-demon in an intentionally bad Keanu Reeves impression.

Cherri could only chuckle. "Jeez, you are ridiculous. But at least, with all the crazy shit I've pulled, I can count on a friend like you."

"Huh?"

"This may come as a shock, but whenever people work together in Hell it's so they can either screw each other over later or try to get something they both want…and then screw the other person out of it. I haven't had someone I can rely on in a long time. Call it schmaltzy, but I appreciate knowing you really want to help."

The lizard girl was honestly floored. Sure, she caught a brief glimpse of Hell and figured it was not rainbows and orgies, but to hear that something basic like trust or camaraderie was scarce was disturbing. She supposed honor among thieves could only get someone so far, which made even more sense with her usual line of work. The only reason no one double crossed Black Hat was because they were too afraid of him and the schmucks who tried were made into wall decorations or merchandise.

After that, the two did several rounds of shots and eventually let the alcohol put them to sleep. When the morning sun rose over Panau's east shoreline, Demencia was still snoozing while Cherri was finding a taxicab. Once she found one and kindly told the driver to fuck off unless he wanted to literally bite a bullet, she took the front seat and started honking the horn.

"Oy, dragon breath, wake up! We've got a big job to do!"

"Eh…mazel tov…" mumbled the drowsy psycho.

"Come on, Demencia, I've got nice, powdery cocaine to wake you up!"

"SNOWFLAME WANTS HIS POPSICLES!"

"Atta girl, now get in here!"

Demencia all but tore the cab's passenger-side door off its hinges as she got in. Sure enough, Cherri pulled out a vial of powder and let her partner snort it up in order to get some spring back in her step.

"WOOOOAH, that's good stuff! So, what terrible things will we be doing today?" Cherri soon turned the car on and began driving them west.

"I've heard word from all around the island about this revolutionary group called the White Tigers. A band of machete-wielding desperadoes looking led by some enigmatic leader claiming to be a god."

"Ooh, another faction, what a twist!"

"Yeah, but from what I can tell, the head of this place who just goes by The White Tiger is a foreign visitor whose actually working for a bigger boss."

"The other three don't like him, right?"

"Exactly. The Roaches don't want some cartel from overseas stealing their business, the Ulars naturally hate someone from off the island butting into their business (Or maybe just hate that someone else is doing the whole jungle-marauding routine,) and the Reapers…I'm pretty sure their just pissed because Bolo can't get them to cooperate."

"You mean she can't bone her way into an alliance with him, right?"

Cherri almost drove off the road due to laughing too hard from that remark, but eventually calmed down enough to respond.

"Yeah…Probably. Either way, I've gotten word of some guy out in the desert who knows where to find the White Tiger. We're gonna find him, make him tell us where he is and then kill him so his little band of groupies fails."

"Okey dokey!"

With the mission briefing done, the two began having their own brand of fun as they drove southwest towards the desert. This included forcing cars off of bridges by grappling them over the side, setting trees on fire, raiding gas stations for cheap beer and pretzels and of course playing a real-life version of crash mode from Burnout 3: Takedown by causing the most outrageous traffic accident imaginable. The winner had to be when Demencia used her fire to melt the tires off a bus causing to flip end over end, rolling over six other cars in the process all white Cherri broke out her signature namesake bombs and then caused the bridge they were on collapse behind them from the force of the explosions.

After about six hours of straight carnage with taxis, motorcycles and at one point a helicopter, the duo found the trees and lush coasts give way to massive sand plains and towering rock formations as they entered the desert. While not quite as varied as the lusher parts of the island, there was a certain serenity to it that the ladies could appreciate…breaking with their usual chaos.

The two eventually sprinted to their final destination as they found a shady looking, even by Panau's underbelly standards, goon standing outside a nondescript straw house looking over his shoulder every few minutes.

"Hey there, buddy!" greeted Cherri in an overly chipper tone, "We're new in town and looking for a man we're supposed to meet today. Could you please tell us where we could find the White Tiger?"

"'White Tiger?' Sorry, I can't quite seem to remember…" he feigned and started rubbing his fingers together in the universal sign of "Put bribe here."

"Oh, I get it. Sorry, but we don't have any money on us. Maybe I can do…something else to get your help?"

"And what would that be?"

"Weeeeeell…" Cherri then put one of her hands on her hips and the other on the collar of her low-fitting shirt. She then sauntered over to him swinging her hips, not noticing that Demencia was actually watching her ass sway back and forth with great interest. As for the ne'er-do-well, his hesitation was completely gone. Instead he walked up to Cherri Bomb and seemed much more willing to talk.

"I suppose I could tell you what you want…If you can give me a good reason."

"Oh, I've got a good reason…"

She then immediately dropped the sexy act as she picked him up effortlessly and threw him back against the house hard enough to send him through the wall. As he dug himself out of the rubble, she stood over him with a terrifying grin as lightning sparked off of her hands.

"See, I bet you've heard rumors of two badasses ripping that twat Panay's regime several new assholes these past few weeks. Well, I just so happen to be one of those badasses! To clarify things, I am a literal demon from Hell who is immune bullets, has about sixty stolen guns and three dozen explosives on her, can shoot grappling hooks out of my wrists that can rip right through your body and I can shoot lightning out of my hands. And that's just me. My partner over there is just as dangerous and even more bloodthirsty than I am. So either you can give us the information we want or you can be the…Hey Demencia, how many fuckers have we killed on this island?"

"878!"

"Thank you! So, Mr. Playboy, do you want to be asshole #879 who gets to go to my home-turf in Hell?"

"No no no! I'll tell you everything! The White Tiger has an associate named Ken Pang, he knows where the White Tiger is!"

"And just where is this Ken now?"

"He's about to be executed for his gambling debts! It's just across the river, it's called Lengkok Sungai, and you can still make it since the execution is tonight!"

"Perfect! Demencia, kindly give this man something for his troubles."

As Cherri stepped away, the other insane demoness stepped up to the now-completely freaked out informant and puckered her lips. The man wizened up and leaned in for a kiss, only to instead get a painful shock as Demencia took a huge bite out of his neck. As he quickly started to die from the mutilation, he could hear her chewing up his throat-meat and start licking the blood off her fingers.

"What? We never said we weren't going to kill you if you helped us."

"See? Told you she was the crazier one…" commented Cherri as the lowly grunt died, his last moments made all the more embarrassing by being blue-balled for the second time in two minutes.

The pair of them then flew/grappled their way out of town and across the river to the gambler's den they were told about. The place was a set of pagodas painted various shades of brown connected by roofed walkways with a massive open-air patio in the center. With their destination in sight, the girls realized the execution was not set to happen for several hours. This meant they could either stealthily wait for their target to arrive and craft a meticulous plan in the intervening time or they could rush in headfirst and tear the place apart until they found their culprit. The former would require intricate planning and surveillance of the area along with careful consideration of their resources. The latter would mean a bloodbath that could lead to dozens of innocents being killed and enormous property damage.

Take a wild guess which one they picked.

"CHARGE!" shouted the trigger-happy demonesses as they bolted through the front entrance. The door guards who were suicidal enough to get in their way were broiled alive and zapped for their troubles.

As they stormed down the hallways happily filling anyone in their way with bullets, the duo proved to be a frighteningly competent team. Even with the knowledge that there was no way to really injure each other thanks to their overpowered regeneration, they worked in tandem like they had been pulling off raids for years together. Whenever one was in danger of being snuck up on, the other shot the attacker before he could do anything. They only needed to share a glance in order to know what the other was thinking. And on top of it all, they were both touched by how much the other watched out for them. It was rare for ladies in super-villainy and gang wars to find an ally they could trust absolutely.

After almost an hour of straight mayhem and another sixty bodies added to their count, the satanic buddies found their target in one of the many rooms being held at gunpoint by two guards.

"Don't move an inch or we shoot!" they boasted in unison.

"Okay then," agreed Cherri as she shot a grappling hook as the gun-toting goons and made them fly into each other hard enough to draw blood. With them tied together, Demencia unfurled her wings and flew the two outside and high into the air where she proceeded to drop them fifty feet to their painful deaths.

"Oh thank the heavens!" praised the gambler as he literally dropped to his knees, "How can I ever repay you?!"

Cherri pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and fired it behind him, making Ken nearly pee himself in terror. "You can tell us where to find the White Tiger. We want his head."

"No! The White Tiger has saved me countless times…Every time I go into debt, he pulls me out of it! I owe him too much!"

"Really? Because I didn't see any of his tribal buddies coming here to rescue you. And in case you can't tell, we slaughtered a couple dozen people just to get here so what's one more to us?"

"…Alright. I'll take you to him."

Cherri put away her weapon as she led him back outside past the aftermath of their attack. It was easier to find a service that was not stained with entrails. They found Demencia back in the central plaza sorting through the cache of weapons she looted off the den's guards.

"Okay, so I've got seven revolvers, ten pistols, six SMGs, eight sawed-off shotguns, six shotguns, ten machine guns, seven assault rifles, about thirty grenades, ten C4 charges, four sniper rifles and two grenade launchers! Plus I found someone's stash of heroin in their pocket!"

"Aah, the perfect thing to unwind with after this little party. Pass me a syringe."

The two shot up and let the drugs run their course as Ken, somehow fighting off the urge to ruin his pants, was awestruck by their carnage. Once they stuffed all their new goodies into their hair and cleavage, which was somehow the weirdest thing he has seen all day, he brought them out to a pair of motorbikes parked a few hundred feet outside the gambling lodge.

"So, you're gonna be our escort for this?" asked Demencia.

"I don't have a choice…" he muttered under his breath.

"Aw, poor little compulsive gambler! I maybe an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a mild nymphomaniac (Demencia wondered why she was staring at her when she said that), but at least I take responsibility for myself! You're just some little pussy who needs someone else to bail you out because you can't control yourself!"

"But please, think about what you're doing! The White Tiger is fighting for the freedom of this island! He genuinely cares about all of us and wants Panay stopped so this madness can end! Can't you look into your hearts and reconsider?!"

"Hmmmmm…" pondered Demencia as she started pacing around deep in consideration. Her eyes were tightly shut, her usual scatterbrained nature gone as if she truly meditated on his pleas. When she finally opened her eyes once again, she looked at the hopeful Ken and gave her answer.

"Nope!" She then proceeded to summon an extra-large fireball and flung it straight at Lengkok Sungai. The all-wood construction of the building combined with the dry desert air meant the fire spread almost instantly until the entire place was engulfed in minutes and soon crumbled to the ground. While Ken was absolutely horrified by the loss of his favorite gaming spot (Oh yeah, and the possible human lives lost, he supposed), Cherri was extremely conflicted.

"Don't do it, Cherri. As much as you have a raging she-boner right now and want to finger yourself raw from that, don't do it! You've got a job to do, and once that's done then you can masturbate all night while guzzling chocolate liqueur.

"Cherri, are you ready?" asked Demencia.

"Huh?"

"I've got Ken on his bike and I'm ready to fly, but what's up with you? That's the second time you just froze up."

After a brief period of hesitation, the cyclops finally answered "It can wait until after we find this tiger, alright? Now let's go kill a rebel faction leader."

"…Okey dokey!" With that, Demencia revealed her draconic wings and took to the sky as Cherri followed behind Ken on the other bike as they headed south. As they raced past the dunes in the desert heat, the group was met with roadblock of over a dozen red-vested gunmen blocking the way between a nearby rock formation and a house.

"All of you are under arrest!" barked the elite in charge. While Ken merely cowered behind Cherri, she looked beyond unimpressed.

"You're joking, right? We've killed literally hundreds of your men, blown up military bases and even just burned down an illegal casino and we're 'under arrest'? Isn't there ever a point where you just shoot first and ask questions later?"

While the captain was insulted and was about to give the order to open fire, he never got the chance as an airborne Demencia dropped half a dozen grenades on the blockade causing a massive chain of explosions between her weapons and the cars which combusted along with the charges. The lucky few who survived that bombings were quickly dealt with by Cherri shooting them in the face.

With that distraction dealt with, the unlikely trio kept moving forward until they reached the entrance to a massive fort made out of a broken cargo ship that was crawling with even more soldiers. As the two peeked inside, they were already hoping this was another chance to have fun.

"Okay, if you two are dead-set on finding the White Tiger, I have his coordinates on my PDA but it was confiscated by those guys at the gambling den and they sold it to the government for profit. If you want it back, you'll have to-"

But the two were already gone as Cherri flung herself onto the top of the gate and was pumping schmucks full of bullets with a pair of SMGs. Demencia took the more direct approach and was running and gunning her way through the buildings along with occasionally setting those poor unfortunate souls on fire.

"That's far enough!" boasted what the girls was the leader of the group. Aside from being seven feet tall, he also wore a red beret on his head and was wearing a specially-made red armored vest with a white star decal on the back.

"You must be the boss! Let's fight!" cheered Demencia as she started firing wildly, but much to her surprise they had no effect.

"I am a colonel and I say you two are finished!" He then held up the PDA the girls were looking for."Unless you want this to be destroyed, you'll come quietly!"

The colonel pulled out an assault rifle as he stuck the PDA on his belt and entered the world's longest one-on-one shootout with Demencia as neither of the two made a dent in each other. The former's vest was somehow completely bulletproof while the latter was barely fazed by the shots as she healed from them in seconds.

Cherri, meanwhile, just watched from the sidelines in amusement as the unstoppable force seemed to finally meet the immovable object until she realized something.

"Hey, Colonel Cocksucker!" she shouted, "Is that bulletproof armor made of metal?"

Both of them were caught off-guard by this interruption and looked at her in confusion as she walked up to the goliath of a man.

"Yes? Why do you ask?"

"Because that means your armor conducts electricity!"

She placed a hand on his chest and sent a massive pulse of electricity through him. The man did not even have time to scream as the lightning coursed through him and his heart was stopped by the shock. She then plucked the conveniently unharmed PDA off his belt and returned to the gaping Ken Pang.

"Y-Y-Y-You did it…"

"Well, no shit we did!" taunted Cherri, "What part of invincible badass she-demon don't you understand? Now open this thing so we can get moving."

Ken reluctantly took the PDA and entered the necessary passwords so the girls could use it.

"Well, I think is all we'll need. You can go, Ken."

"What? B-But...why?"

Demencia then stepped forward. "As the old villainous saying goes: you have outlived your usefulness."

The criminal-turned-demoness then ended his life with a point-blank revolver shot. While the man did help them make it this far, they both knew he was still a sniveling gambler who sold out his apparent savior with little conviction. Plus, now the government would stop harassing him for money now that he was in the afterlife.

"Do you teach a course on that at that school for evil? Cheesy villain lines 101?"

"No, that's only an elective for students unless they want to major in villainous assisting which is a commendable line of work that is dying out thanks to the excessive amount of material people can find online. It's a crying shame…"

After that genius insight, the two took a helicopter from the now-empty fort and took to the air for the final leg of their journey. As they closed in on their destination, they crossed back into the lush greenery of the main island and ditched their ride (Read: jumping out of it and letting it spiral into a crash) and trekked through the trees on foot until the PDA indicated they were right on top of their supposed target yet no one was around.

"Well, shit," remarked Cherri, "Looks like this is a dead-end."

"But why would that colonel guard a PDA that was a hoax?" questioned Demencia, showing rather frightening rationale for a mental case.

"Let's face it, there are gamers that know more about tactical strategy and warfare than these morons. Best guess is they didn't even bother to check the info before they took hold of it-"

She was interrupted when she felt a prick on her neck. When she reached around for it, she found an old-fashioned blow-dart and felt a heavy sedative course through her. A few seconds later, Demencia got stuck the same way. The lizard girl quickly collapsed on the ground from the toxic dart, much to Cherri's confusion.

"What are you doing? You're immune to poisons."

"But it feels sooooo good! My legs feel like noodles!"

Cherri just sighed at her, proud of how her quasi-girlfriend had acquired a taste for illegal substances and began firing an assault rifle in the general direction. She quickly found her mark as she heard panicked voices run through the trees assuming they did not have a bullet lodged in their brains. After hearing several bodies hit the ground, Cherri moved in and found several stereotypical guerilla soldiers either dead or wounded beyond repair. The ones that were still alive got fatally zapped for their troubles.

She came across one of the goons fully unscathed, cowering behind a rock and praying in a foreign tongue for someone to save him.

"Hey, Rambo, up and at 'em. You're gonna take me to your boss."

"W-Wha?! What you want with the White Tiger?!"

"We'll tell you once we see him. Now let's go before you join your friends here."

"B-B-But…You got hit with dart! That poison can knock out jaguar!"

"Yeah, funny thing is I've taken so many drugs that nothing knocks me out anymore," she half-lied, not willing to explain the whole truth again, "My partner's letting it affect her. Speaking of which, get up, you fucking loon!"

"Fiiiiine," whined the other assailant, "But I want some good pills once we're done with this."

"Deal. Now, is our esteemed guest gonna make it easy for us to find his boss or are we going to have to force it out of him?"

"Oh, let him resist! I haven't gotten to shoot someone's nuts off all day!"

"AAAGH! Alright, I take you!"

With their latest unwilling accomplice to guide them, the two were brought to a stone temple far away from any other landmarks. The main building was surrounded by dozens of twenty-foot high stone columns all sitting on a rough stone floor. When they got to the center of the temple they found the last thing they ever expected to find, even for the two of them; a middle-aged Caucasian man wearing a loud blue Hawaiian shirt and white khaki shorts. If anything, he looked less like the leader of guerilla revolutionaries and more like an aging wanderer who ended up here after one too many margaritas.

"Well now, lookie what we got here!" he exclaimed jovially with a thick Southern accent, "You must be the bambinas that have been tearing up this island harder than a load o' eighteen wheelers tearin' down the highway."

The two demonesses just stared at each other, both at a total loss for words for the first time since they stepped foot on Panau, and looked back at the almost-senior citizen.

"You…are the White Tiger?" asked Demencia.

"Well, that's what the good ol' boys out here in the boonies call me, but y'all can just call me Tom Sheldon. Pleased to meet ya!"

"You're not the least bit worried about us finding you?" ventured Cherri, secretly hoping he had more of the Ular-brand mega-mushroom mix on him.

"Well, you ladies have been causing quite the ruckus since you've been here, so I figure we can be allies since we all want Baby Panay out o' his highchair. Cop a squat, I've got barbecued pig almost ready to eat!"

No amount of illegal contraband would make the girls think this whole situation was normal, but they decided to relent. As they sat and watched the old soul cook his pig on a spit to perfection, they noticed the grunt who brought them here was long gone.

"Alright, you rabble-rousers, soup's on!"

The two took their share of the barbecue pig, and had to admit it was absolutely delicious. While it was not flesh taken from the corpse fo their enemies, the smoky pork was still a treat for their taste buds. There was one problem with the man's hospitality, though: it made it much harder to make him bite the bullet.

"Soooo…What's a pasty ass like yourself doing out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?" asked Cherri after they were finished their meal.

"Well, I work for a special little branch of the government called the Agency, a top-secret division."

"So secretive they couldn't think of a better name?" joked Demencia.

Tom let out a hearty laugh at that. "I reckon so! Hahaha, but in all seriousness I'm supposed to be lookin' out for foreign threats and resolve them before they become Uncle Sam's problem."

"And they send…you? How much stuff are they huffing in the White House these days?"

"Well, in all honesty, I've gotta buddy named Rico who was supposed to be here a while ago. He's the real demolition expert, while I help out with intel and instructions. Problem is, some other dictator took over his home island o' Medici and so he amscrayed the Agency to help his birthplace instead. Wish they told me that little nugget o' wisdom before they sent me out here…"

"Rico from Medici, huh? What's he like?" wondered Cherri as she crossed her legs.

"Six foot tall and carries grenades the way grandmas carry handbags. He's a one-man dictator-destroyin' machine who can take a bullet better than most o' the guys back in Vietnam. Trust me, if he were here, Panay would be peein' his pants in hours."

Cherri then had to block any and all thoughts related to a Demencia-Rico three-way before she ended up literally drooling and having to excuse herself to go pleasure herself before she exploded. Thankfully, Demencia found something else to talk about.

"So you were supposed to stay out here and act as recon for this Rico?"

"More o' less, but the thing was they were gonna say I went rogue and then I'd contact him undercover as another alias…Ah, but yer not interested in that ol' hooey. I bet you two wanna get back to blowing Panay's little regime sky high!"

Cherri, feeling a twinge of guilt for the first time in her afterlife, scratched the back of her head. "Yeah…about that, we're working with the three cartels on this island and we were supposed to find you for them so…"

"Wait a minute! You mean to tell me you're in with the mob, the commies AND the jungle boys?!"

"Pretty much!" answered Demencia as she started eyeing the metal rotisserie spit.

"If you sisters are already in deep with those nutjobs, then maybe you three can move ahead with the plan I had set up for Rico!"

"And what would that be?" asked Cherri.

"The Agency is wonderin' why Panau suddenly turned into a dictatorship after years o' being buddies with us. The word in Washington is that Baby murdered his democratically-elected daddy to take the helm, and has put all this money into buildin' up the military in order to prove itself a world power."

"And the reason for this is…?"

"Oil, of course! Panau sits right on top of a massive oil field worth billions!"

"You know, that does explain the massive amount of gas tanks, pipelines and fuel shafts around here…"

"But what's up with the random barrels of explosives all over the place?" wondered Demencia, even her insane logic failing incapable of putting all this together.

"Beats me, but anyhoo, all three o' those gangs y'all hooked up with have a foreign superpower backin' them. At least, that's as much o' the rub they told me about," resumed Tom.

"And so you want us to get in tight with the gangs until they reveal their hands and then we take out the big boys so that America gets all the black gold?"

"Exactamente, sweetie! So what do you say…You two interested in helpin' the good ol' US of A?"

"Give us a second…" Cherri said as she pulled Demencia outside to the courtyard to talk.

"So what do we do?" asked the lizard girl, "Do we just off him like we planned or do we take him up on his offer?"

"Well, I frankly don't give two shits about who gets a ton of oil. But…I bet if he's got ties to the American government we can get some major loot out of him."

"Like more drugs?!"

"I know the DEA has a massive stash of stuff they swipe from dealers and cartels once their caught, plus he may have some more hardware for us to play with."

"SOLD!"

"Assuming he's not some senile twat who's actually conning us. If he is, then we fill him with bullets and send him to Zimbabwe in a box."

The duo returned to the American with a few last questions on their minds.

"So, you mujeres made up yer minds?"

"What's in it for us if we help you?" asked Cherri.

"Well, I heard you got a taste for the finer things in life like cocaine and big guns. I just so happen to be a black-market dealer who can hook you ladies up with any weapon or vehicle you can think of. Plus, I think I can pull a few strings to get ya more 'medicine' if it will be an asset to you."

The demonesses nodded to each other and Cherri reached out her hand. "You've got yourself two new partners-in-crime, gramps."

"Terrific! Hand me that PDA you got from Ken so I can stay in contact with ya."

"You're not the least bit sad we offed like fifteen of your guys?" asked Demencia as she pulled the device out of her hair.

"The whole White Tiger thing was just a ruse until Rico finally showed up, but with you gals here I think it's safe to call that whole operation off."

"Uh…you do know we're here to kill you, right?" asked Demencia.

"Okay, what the fuck?! Now's not the time to act crazy!" admonished Cherri.

"Trust me, I kinda figured that all on my own. Between hearing about Ken biting the dust, good riddance to that schmuck, and you girls havin' more bloodlust than a pack o' lions at a steak buffet it was pretty obvious."

"So…what do we do now then? Our other employers all want the White Tiger dead."

"One sec…"

Tom then headed into the jungle and found the sniveling guerilla that originally brought the ladies to him.

"Here's the White Tiger ladies. Fire away."

"Kay," replied the demons as they both emptied dozens of rounds from an SMG into the poor schmuck.

"And with that, the White Tiger is no more. I mean, who's gonna think some old American fart's behind all this?"

"Good point," admitted Demencia.

Before the two could get much further, though, an overwhelming tingling filled their bodies once again. With that last kill, the two had once again reached the point where they had caused enough chaos and bloodshed to unlock yet another round of new abilities. For Demencia, her entire body began changing as her skin was replaced with vibrant green scales and her fingernails became razor-sharp claws. To complete her transformation, a large tail emerged from above her behind.

"Huh. Guess it was a matter of time before I went full-demon!" thought Demencia as she looked at her new form.

Cherri, meanwhile, looked absolutely the same.

"Uh, ain't somethin' supposed to happen now, darling?" asked Tom, having overheard about their whole process of gaining new powers through one of his contacts.

"Yeah, but I shouldn't sweat the small stuff. Her upgrades tend to be a lot more visible than mine for some reason."

Just as the three were deliberating, several police sirens sounded off in the distance. The sound of tumbling trees and vehicles storming over dirt filled the air in every direction as the girls realized that someone else may have been listening to their conversation about the White Tiger.

"There's the enemies of the president! Capture the White Tiger and kill the others!" barked one of the commanders over a bullhorn. As the first wave of troops leveled their guns at the one-eyed demoness, the now fully-draconic demoness and the portly American intelligence agent, they all thought the same thing.

"This is nothin' but target practice for you, ain't it?" asked Tom.

"Yep!" replied his new cohorts as they charged in. Demencia quickly started using her new body to her advantage as she slithered in on all fours like she had done so before, then used her new tail to knock soldiers down with enough force to shatter their knees as they passed. Once they were ripe for the picking, the girl would use her claws to rip open their chests and snack on their innards along with her usual use of gunplay and pyrokinesis all while soaking up bullets thanks to her near-instant regeneration.

Cherri, meanwhile was still using only her lightning and her own stash of guns and explosives. While this was most definitely not an inherent problem, she could not help but feel shafted which for a foul-tempered demoness with regular drug usage meant she was quickly getting pissed off. As she felt the growing urge to stab something, she felt something tingle down in her bones and a stark white object jutted out from her thigh. When she touched it, it immediately shaped into the hilt of a sword. Pulling it out revealed the foot-long blade made of sharpened steel that somehow harmlessly emerged from her body.

"Oh fuck the hell, yes…" said Cherri, delighted by this prospect. The nearest soldier got grappled over to her, then had his head sliced off to prove that the sword was not just for decoration. With this revelation, Cherri entered a destruction frenzy to match her rival as she slashed and stabbed every goon in sight. She also explored the depths of her new ability as she quickly found she could make just about any melee weapon she could think of. Blunt instruments like hammers, crowbars and Bo staffs, projectiles like throwing knives and shuriken, and bladed weapons of every shape and size. Whether it was an average switchblade or a massive two-handed sword that would make an RPG protagonist jealous, it was at her disposal in endless quantities.

It took a solid fifteen minutes for the girls to hack and slash their way through the miniature armada. Every square inch of the temple's paved floor was coated with blood and the remains of the soldiers who tried to take the mythical White Tiger and his two new cohorts into custody. Weapons were still strewn about as Tom observed the scene before him. While most people would be traumatized beyond belief by such a massacre, the old agent was mighty impressed. Had this been any other circumstance, he would have been halfway to a Panauan government prison for war criminals. Now he knew for certain he made the right choice in siding with the two demonesses as even his entire legion of guerillas would have been slaughtered by the army's superior numbers and firepower.

Said demonesses, meanwhile, were actually taking a moment to rest after their latest work of chaos. Demencia and Cherri, in all their years of mayhem-making and violence, had never imagined they were capable of such an incredible feat. The two met eyes, Cherri really observing her partner's new draconic appearance. At the same time, Demencia noticed the bloodied axe still held in her partner's hand…and quickly pieced together why there was an abundance of slashes, decapitations and signs of blunt weapons being used to cave in skulls and rupture internal organs.

Their silence was only broken when Demencia walked over the mass of corpses between them and placed a hand on Cherri's shoulder.

"…What?" asked the cyclops, but got no answer. The hand on her never left as the half-dragon girl still stared at her.

"Come on, you've been a bucket of crazy this whole time, don't clam up on me now!"

Still no answer, though. She finally had enough of the silence and started hacking away at the nearest dead body while shouting at Demencia.

"Answer me, damn it! I'm a lot of fucking things, but I'm not one who takes suspense well! What do you want from me?!"

With each swing, she splattered more and more blood on her and even a few specks on her partner. The other demoness answered by walking right up to her and placing a kiss on her lips.

"Fuck me, that was hot!"

Cherri's confused expression quickly turned to a lecherous grin as she returned the favor. They then spent the next several hours doing enough dirty deeds that it would be impossible for the author to describe without this becoming smut.

Well, this is a crack fic, so why not have a crack pairing as well? For the record, though, Demencia DOES still love Black Hat. If literal mind control couldn't do it, chances are having a girlfriend still won't change that either. Next time, though, we'll explore this new relationship along the way to more carnage and explosions!