Part II.
At the Possible's home, all was calm, James thought. All was peaceful, especially now that there were no boys bothering his Kimmy Cub.
She could come around. That threat to become a Bolivian Yak Herder before she had to go stop Drakken was just that, a threat. In any case, it had helped her in one respect—she no longer had any trouble hitting high notes. He looked over to the two shattered mirrors.
"Well, I'm certain Kimmy-cub will be back soon and understand that this is all for the best." He said heartily. "What's for dinner?" He continued looking around the table. The twins were glaring at him.
Well, they would understand when they had their own kids. That is to say, when they were able to find fathers not as… careful as he was.
"Oh, Brain loaf." His loving wife said. Ann put the Brain Loaf down on the table and picked up a knife.
"James, dear." She continued, glaring at him with molten eyes. "Watch this." And with dexterous hacking motions she started removing the frontal lob. "This is how we do a radical frontal lobotomy….understand?"
"Now dear," James said, "You'll understand this was for the best." He smiled, "After all, Just imagine what might have happened if I hadn't intervened with that…Boy."
Ann looked at him fingering the blade of the knife. "Yes, I understand perfectly. You realize that one day I'd like to have grand children." She paused, "From my daughter."
"Oh, I'm certain that will happen, in a decent interval when she's ready…20 or 22 years from now." He paused, "Can I have the frontal lobe, since you've finished detaching it."
Ann blinked at him three times. Then turned to Tim. "Tim, do you have your plasma arc?"
"Yeah…why mom."
"Because I think your fathers meal is cold and he'll need it to be warm to help him sleep in the car tonight." Taking it from her son, she turned it on the serving, carbonizing it into a charred lump. "Here you go dear." She said, ignoring the fact that the table was smoldering.
It might take her a few days to understand this was for the best. James thought as he donned the asbestos gloves he'd had the forethought to bring.
Meanwhile, Shego had carefully entered the back of the house.
Well, okay, entered it with a clattering smash as she'd been so careful about all the precautions GJ had no doubt installed to protect Kimmie that she'd completely missed the bike one of the twins had left in front of the back door.
"Oh CRAP" she hissed, holding her foot. Unfortunately, her awkward position combined with a wet spot on the ground to send her other foot out from under her and then she slipped back.
WHAM! THUD!
"($$(!!!!!" she snarled using language that cannot be printed in a T rated story, then heard an odd creaking noise. Looking up, she saw what it was. The twins evidently used that shelf to store their old books, Shego thought absently…
Before she was buried under a pile of HEAVY text books.
As she sank into peaceful darkness, she wondered if she was going to have this much trouble EVERY time she tried to do a good deed….
TBC.