. . .
Miss Pauling was squinting into a pair of binoculars as she and RED femScout observed the date between Merasmus and the RED Spy, who was currently disguised as The Administrator, from a nearby park. It was a bit nippy for an early afternoon, and both were crouched under a tree with a few evergreen bushes that kept them partially hidden.
Spy had suggested a favorite diner in Teufort, which just so happened to be the only French restaurant in town. The wizard didn't mind, as he was too enthralled with the 'Administrator' to object for even a second on their choice of cuisine.
"Come on, let's get closer," Scout urged, though Pauling noticed there was a hint of mischief.
She sighed, figuring it might be more effective. The loud chainsaw buzzing from nearby workers cutting down trees was woefully distracting.
"Fine, but whatever you have planned, Bonk Boy, it better not interfere with the mission."
"Who, moi? Never. I just want a better look at the two lovebirds getting' to know each other on their sweet, wholesome date."
Miss Pauling snorted. "Surree. You just want to gloat over seeing how uncomfortable Spy is dealing with an ancient ol' geezer trying to put the moves on him."
Scout wore a mock innocent expression. "Do ya think I'd be that cruel? He may be my absentee, deadbeat father, but atleast he's goin' out of his way doin' this for me. I appreciate that. Besides, the minute they close the deal, I wanna be there so that honker-nosed wizard can change me back."
"Okay, whatever. Let's just keep out of sight so he doesn't see us. And please don't trip again in those oversized pants. You nearly broke my glasses taking me down to the ground with you."
"Sorry sweetcheeks, I ain't messin' up again."
"I still think you should have worn something more suitable."
"Hey, don't diss my signature outfit. Besides, when I get changed back into a guy, I'll be in the appropriate clothing."
"You look like an anorexic girl in those big clothes!"
"No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do!"
"No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do!"
"No, I—"
Just then, they heard the loud, distinct snaps of several branches. Realizing where the sound came from, both looked up and—
"AAAAHH!"
Two blue-clad bodies fell out of the tree and landed right on top of them.
"ACHH! What the hell, man!" Scout protested, feeling like his whole body was being used as a couch.
"Oh, uh…sorry 'about dat," a familiar voice came.
Miss Pauling recognized who it was but couldn't speak nor turn her head at the moment, as it was buried face-first in the grassy ground. She flailed her body around in irritation, the weight of the gas-masked person's body bearing painfully down on her.
"Uhh, Pyro, I think you better get off Miss Pauling," BLU Scout spoke up. "You're suffocatin' her with your hand."
"Mphhr shchorry," BLU Pyro apologized.
"How about you get your freakin' ass off me, numbnuts?" Scout snapped.
"Oops, didn't mean to squish your boobies. I keep forgettin' you're a chick now." The clone got off his RED counterpart's back, while his Pyro did the same with the assistant.
"You damn asshats! What the hell are you doin' here?" Scout's eyes flared angrily.
Miss Pauling crawled into a sitting position, realizing that the frames of her glasses were broken and one of the lenses was cracked. Immediately, she felt her face for any cuts and blood, but amazingly found none.
"We came here to offer moral support," BLU Scout explained. "And uh, to lend an extra hand if you needed it."
"We're doin' fine without any more help," Scout retorted. He stood up, dusting off the dirt and grass from his clothing.
"How long have you been up there?" Miss Pauling demanded, indicating the tree.
"For a while now. Pyro and I are trying to be more like dad—I mean, our Spy. That's why we were up the tree, mouths shut and outta sight while you two were still blatherin' away about the date. So, we thought we'd surprise you."
The slip-up about BLU Spy didn't go unnoticed by Scout. "Now you're callin' that lyin' rat bastard your daddy?"
"Yeah, so? He is my dad, even though we're clones of you and the other lyin' rat bastard. I mean, he's pretty cool."
"Tch, really," Scout scoffed.
"He taught me how to use his balisong, Spycicle, " BLU Scout boasted. "I'm more stealthy and deadly in battle learnin' the tricks from him. I even stol—uh, borrowed one of his Disguise Kits and went around as the RED Heavy with his Sasha startlin' the Bejesus outta my team at the base! It was fun while it lasted. My Soldier blew me to chunks afterwards with his rocket thingy and I respawned."
RED Scout showed a bit of amusement with a slight curl of his lip, but other than that, couldn't shake off his disdain for spies. "Take my advice, slugger, and find some other mentor. Spies are backstabbin' scum who'll betray you over a quarter."
"Hey, he's not exactly your Spy," BLU Scout argued. "He's never doublecrossed me…um, well, except that one time playin' Twister. I swear he tickled my foot just so I could fall and throw the game…maybe he cheated in Blackjack too…anyhow, he actually likes havin' a bit of fun. We hang out together from time to time."
Well, BLU Scout had some justification. Both he and BLU Spy weren't exactly like their original counterparts. Plus, they didn't have a family drama history with each other.
"Oh, I'm soooo ecstatic for you," Scout remarked sarcastically, before tugging at Miss Pauling's arm. "C'mon, let's go over there now."
Miss Pauling turned to the others. "If you guys want to help, then keep quiet! We don't want to botch up this critical mission." She leveled a finger at BLU Pyro. "And you owe me some new glasses. I'll see it comes out of your next paycheck."
With that, she and Scout took off across the street.
"He's still ain't takin' it well," BLU Scout observed as they followed the duo a moment later.
"Mphhr hpphrr," BLU Pyro replied.
"Yeah, I thought so. Still, I feel bad for Jeremy. A part of me don't blame her for wantin' to bash the brains outta a selfish prick who abandoned her."
"Shmee itha heetht," the arsonist pointed out.
"Oops! Jeez, I keep slippin' up. I mean he. But anyhow, holdin' a grudge for long just ain't in my nature. So, I say the two should work it out. I'm sure his dad feels rotten to the core about it."
"Hhoh hmphh mrrphhe ahadaa."
"Yeah, I'll give him credit for that. Maybe if his dad humiliates himself enough times for him, Jeremy'll change his mind."
"Mhohh surhhh hump, dhiihh gghoohh."
"Nah, RED Spy sacrificed himself plenty of times savin' him in battle. I saw it when we were fightin' their team and the robots."
"Mophh ikn mpphrr harumphh."
"Uh, that be pretty drastic. I don't think he wants to jump in front of a train and get mangled to death just to prove he's sorry. Even if Jeremy tells him to. There are other ways to atone for your sins, Firebug."
Blu Pyro gestured with their arms in a shrug. "Howth boushh hohpeh mpprhh mppehh?"
"What? No!" BLU Scout was aghast. "Where'd you even get that idea? You don't use a zucchini as penance to stick it in—okay, we're done with this conversation, pally."
He looked away in disgust, focused on reaching Miss Pauling and RED Scout, who had already settled near some Hydrangea bushes to survey the date from one of the restaurant windows.
. . .
RED Spy tried not to squirm too much as he sat across from Merasmus, as both were assessing what to order from their menus. The food establishment wasn't too shabby for his taste; it was posh enough with insolite corral rug, chestnut baroque wall trimmings, a miniature replica of the Fontaine Louvois in the middle of the room, and alabaster statues of historical figures, as well as doves or cherub angels on Ionic pedestals or centered on the tables.
Of course, its walls were adorned with the usual pictures of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre Museum and…oh…
How unexpected… Spy thought, noticing one large painting that stood out, which was of King Louis XVI getting beheaded by a guillotine during the Reign of Terror.
Pretty gruesome…but a novel idea.
"My dear, I find that silver streak in your hair to be quite a turn on," the wizard cooed, eyes half-lidded in limerence.
Spy forced a pleasant smile. "Do you now? I'm flattered, Mr. Merasmus."
"Oh, spare the ridiculous formalities. After hearing it for nearly six millennia, I greatly tire of such a frivolous title. Merasmus will do fine."
A young French waitress strolled up to their table. "Bon après-midi, are you ready to take your order?"
"Oui," Spy spoke, glancing down the menu. "I'll have the Cuisses de Grenouille, with a side of Escargot…but leave out any vegetables. I despise the little shits! I would also like a glass of Pinot Grigio."
She wrote it down, as Merasmus frowned at 'The Administrator's' vile reaction to vegetables. He was a devoted vegetarian and to hear his date insulting such sacred food that gave life to everything on this planet was suddenly unnerving.
"Alright, and what will you have?"
Merasmus snapped out of his discomfort. "Ah yes! I'll have a Salade au chèvre chaud along with a glass of Merlot."
The waitress then took the menus. "Merci, please expect a twenty-minute wait."
After she left, the wizard turned to Spy. "You pronounce French very well. Are you fluent in it?"
The RED mercenary had already come up with feasible backstory. "Oh yes, I spent part of my teenage years in France. I grew enamored with the culture, so I decided to learn the language and stay there for a couple more years."
"Ah, that explains your affinity for the Romance culture." He inwardly took a deep breath, dreading the next question. "May I ask why you…don't like vegetables?"
Spy shrugged. "They taste like utter garbage. Especially carrots, broccoli, salad, potatoes and leeks. My parents use to torture me by forcing them down my throat at meal times."
Merasmus was quite taken aback. Surely, the poor lady didn't have that bad of an abusive childhood?
"That is quite horrendous. Is that why you hate them?"
"Yes," Spy gave a terrible grin. "But don't worry, I ran away from home when I was 13. I wasn't going to let them abuse me any further just because they brought me into this world. Besides, I firmly believe that humans are pure carnivores by nature. That's where we get most of our energy from anyway…not from some disgusting little plant or root pulled out from the ground. Leave that to the dumb herbivores."
This was beginning to put off the wizard more – but only a bit. His strong infatuation with 'The Administrator' still outweighed any revulsion he felt at dating a hardcore meat-eater.
Spy then pulled out a lighter to smoke a cigarette, as a younger waiter approached them. The former recognized it was the BLU Spy in disguise.
"How are you compatriots doing?" he amiably inquired, then turned to the 'The Administrator.' "Oh Helen Furias! I didn't recognize you for a moment with that new wig on!" He feigned a pleasant gasp. "And did you get a new fake nose?"
Spy gritted his teeth, irate. "Nooo…you must have mistaken me for someone else."
The waiter waved it off, laughing. "Oh, don't be so shy about it, Ma Cherie!" He turned to Merasmus. "The vice president of TF Industries – she's always so humble about her stunning looks." Glancing back at RED Spy, he added, "There's no shame in setting back the time on your aging physique. How are those butt implants holding up? The last I heard you had a hard time sitting down on those wrinkly, sagging cheeks!"
"I'm fine, thank you very much," Spy replied tightly.
You stupid imbecile! You're supposed to be covering for me, not embarrassing me!
"Tell me about it sometime, mademoiselle." BLU Spy did a mock bow. "Well, you adorable couple please holler if you need my services." There was a devious twinkle in his eye, before turning to the wizard again. "Such a ravishing beauty you got here. She's a keeper for sure."
He let out a sultry cat meow and scurried off, cheerily calling out to some other customers before Spy could utter a rebuke. He straightened up and turned to Merasmus with an awkward smile.
"He's such a cad sometimes; doesn't know when to keep out of people's business."
But the necromancer only gazed at Spy with ever-growing lust in his eyes. "Oh, I believe he has the right idea."
The fake woman let out a nervous laugh. "Is that so?"
"Tell me, my dear…if not vegetables, what do you like?"
Alright, here goes…
"Well, it's a little-known rock that you might have heard of," Spy began. "Do know what Australium is?"
. . .
On the other side of town, The Administrator was making her way to a clothing store. She wasn't going to miss the Purple Dress sale that was going on. She discreetly wore formal slacks, a blouse and coat, along with a debonair hat to hide her face. She thought of using one of the disguise kits from the Spies; unfortunately, it didn't work on people who had Australium in their system for so long.
Something about the chemical properties from the rock not meshing well with elements of the cloaking electronics. She had earlier met up with the RED Spy in briefing him about the mission in their bargain with the wizard; this included mannerisms and talking nonstop about nothing but Australium. That was sure to stop a second date dead in its tracks.
Across the street, a children's play was being put on at a local park. She thought she heard a familiar masculine voice a few times over there, but she was too far away to make out what he was saying.
Just then, a few costumed actors from the play crossed the street to the shopping center. She noted they looked a bit distressed. Brushing it off, she turned back to checking out one of the violet dresses in the window.
"Administrator?"
Freezing at the familiar voice, she whirled around and was taken aback. "Miss Pauling?"
The assistant wore a sapphire blue dress, with puffed out sleeves and a flared white collar. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose bun. A pair of gaudy blue earrings dangled from her ears.
"No, it's me, Felicia."
The older woman blinked, looking her up and down. "What are you doing here, in such a flamboyant attire?"
"Oh, this? I'm playing Snow White at the theater across the street!" she pointed to a temporary stage platform that was set up at the local park. A swarm of about 60 people were seated, most of them parents with their children.
"Oh, that's lovely and all, but please don't bring up the issue about a raise—gahh!"
The Administrator was startled when the clone grabbed her arm. "Look, I need your help! One of our actresses just croaked and now we can't continue with the play! But you're perfect for the part! Will you fill in the role?"
"Absolutely not!" the older woman wriggled out of Felicia's grip. "I'm doing some shopping, and I can't be bothered by such trivial matters. Find someone else."
She turned to walk away, but Felicia flung herself at the woman, wrapping her arms around her waist.
"Oh please, please consider it," she fretfully begged. "We're going to let a lot of children down! And soccer moms! And BBQ football-crazed dads! And cats and dogs, and a hamster, a pet tarantula! Umm, some weird people too...one of them keeps repeating 'The cake is a lie, the cake is a lie' and I think another one is a pedophile and so we gotta call the police, but anyhow, the show must go on!"
"Like I said, find someone else," the Administrator seethed. "Now, let go of me, you foolish girl. You're going to give people here the wrong impression!"
"It's only one last act left!" Felicia sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "And the theater director is going to give us a Saxton Hale Gen 4 Australium award after the show!"
"Stop your damn sniveling—wait, did you just say Australium?"
The young woman nodded, her makeup now a mess from the tears. The Administrator thought back to the legendary Generation 4 statuettes. It's well known they were crafted for the CEO and that he adorned the most potent of the Austalium specimens into a miniature version of his hands on each figurine.
She had to have it. Quickly changing her tune, she perked up, "Oh! Well, uhhh…whose awarding you such a magnificent gift?"
The assistant now released the older woman, straightening up. "It's Mann Co. Mr. Bidwell told me that Mr. Hale didn't want the statuettes anymore and was going to toss them in the dumpster. So, Mr. Bidwell salvaged them and is donating them to thrift stores, pawn shops, and charities. He's going to give it to us as an incentive for our performance. I got the scoop from the actor in the poisoned apple costume."
Wait, there was someone who actually played the bad apple? That didn't make a lick of sense. At this point, the Administrator wasn't surprised anymore, given how loopy the townspeople could be.
"So yeah, he's got several lined up," Felicia finished.
Is that so? Well, lucky for the wretched old woman. If that overly-testosterone meathead didn't want his prizes anymore, she would gladly take them.
"Alright…but are you certain it's for one more act?"
"Yes! Will you help brighten up a lot of families' day with gracing your powerful presence to finish the play?"
The Administrator rubbed her hands together. "Why, of course! I won't pass up such an amazing opportunity to be in an award-winning play sponsored by the infamous, sexist, shady Mann Co. What role will I be playing?"
"The Evil Queen…well, now she's an old hag, so you'll need to wear a witch hat, a wig and a hideous nose piece."
"Oh, delightful…" the other woman groaned.
Another actress dressed in a deer costume ran up to them, distressed. "Oh Felicia, I'm freaking out! Bertha is dead and we don't have an Evil Queen now! How are we going to continue with the play?"
"Terri? Meet our new Evil Queen." Felicia stepped aside, happily presenting the Administrator.
Terri's eyes lit up. "Oh perfect! Vice President of TF Industries, I didn't know you did theater!"
"It's been a long time." The Administrator was suddenly craving a cigarette. Sure, her parents put her in plays as a child and she even dabbled a bit as a teenager, but quite frankly, she never got bitten by the acting bug.
"Well, come along, we must start the show," Terri urged.
Felicia beamed at the Administrator as they headed toward the park. "You won't regret this, ma'am! We're going to make a lot of kids happy!"
"Indeed." The older woman forced a superficial smile. Forget those little brats, I'm getting that Australium award!
. . .