EPILOGUES

Epilogue III:
What happened to Monkey Fist

Grimm and Rhonda were heaving Monkey Fist back into the garage. The Riddleton Prom was over, and the Black Ops had bustled Team Possible and her entourage back to the sequestered locations where they were transported back to Middleton. Grimm and Rhonda were still dressed in their prom clothes.

There was a final rasping sound of stone against stone as they pushed him into an alcove between the work bench and a tool shelf. 'I'm a mess.' said Rhonda, brushing off dust marks and tugging at her hair. 'Even not moving, he's still giving me grief.'

But Grimm was looking sidelong at her. 'Forget it, you look great disheveled.'

'Shut up.' said Rhonda, but she was blushing furiously.

Mr. Probable was strolling by, pulling off his 'Chaperone' badge. 'Remember boy,' he said. 'I said you can't keep him here. The longer he stays, the bigger the risk. The DoD wants him dealt with, the sooner the better.' Then he disappeared inside the house along with Mrs. Probable.

Grimm sighed. 'I guess we can't put it off any longer.' he muttered. 'It was fun using him as a decoration at the Prom, but we have to figure out what to do with him.'

Rhonda was glaring at the stone figure. Clearly her memories of what Monkey Fist and Maze had done to her was still in her mind. 'Well he doesn't need to eat or breathe anymore.' she said. 'How about burying him in the backyard?'

Grimm smirked, glad that Rhonda still hadn't lost all her ruthlessness. 'Tempting.' he said. 'But I'm sure Maze is still on the hunt for his partner.'

Rhonda clucked her tongue. 'You said we need someone to guard him who's on the move all the time.'

Grimm nodded. 'And preferably someone who would do it without being any the wiser.' For several minutes, they both stood in silence in the musty garage, staring at Monkey Fist and thinking.

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Amy Hall heard a sprightly tune being played by the doorbell in her combination lair/laboratory. She had been in the middle of planning an experiment to combine a cat with a snuggie; but had gotten stuck trying to decide whether to call it a cuggie or a snat. Neither one sounded all that good and she was wondering whether she should just make up a totally new name when the bell had rung.

She flounced to the entrance of her lair. 'Coming!' she sang, passing through several pastel-colored hallways, festooned with pictures of her various experiments. She tapped the security keypad, which was bright pink, and the door hissed open. 'What can I do for you on this Cuddle-riffic day...?' she started, but stopped abruptly.

There was no one on the doorstep, only a large object covered with a sheet. She leaned left, and then right, looking past the object in front of her, but the walkway through the grounds was empty, and no vehicles were in sight either up or down the roads.

She turned her attention back to the object on her doorstep, and saw a piece of paper pinned to the sheet. She pulled it loose and began to read.

To DNAmy:

Just touching base after the job you hired us for a while back. We saw this and thought you might like it as a gift to thank you for being such a great client. Remember us if you need anything. - TP

'Oooh, how nice of those kids, giving me a present!' she said delightedly. 'I wonder what it could be...?' She pulled off the sheet and stepped back.

It was a statue of a man with monkey hands and feet. His hands were stretched out as if reaching for something, a dark expression on his face.

'Why it looks just like my little hunny-monkey!' she said. 'So much detail!' A sudden thought occurred to her. She had a room in her lair that she devoted to pictures, sculptures and press clippings of Monkey Fist, and she started backing inside again through the door. 'Now don't you go anywhere!' she said, pointing and smiling at the statue. 'I'll just fetch a hand truck from the lab - your wittle Amy has the perfect place for you! Oh - maybe even a world tour would be fun!'

While DNAmy disappeared back inside her lair, Monkey Fist remained petrified and silent on her doorstep. And if his expression seemed somehow more sour than it had a moment ago, no one was there to notice the change...