"Tortilla Girl and the Search for the Ultimate Hot" by Camilla ´Motone´ Whitney

Tortilla Girl and the Search for the Ultimate Hot

            Tortilla Girl glared across the table, the fresh scent of lemon wafting over to her senses, as she watched the sacred purity of a tortilla be demolished by the yellow acid that was being dripped onto it.  The perpetrator was one Lemon Girl, who ate lemons with everything.  Including, Tortilla Girl noted with disgust, enchiladas.

            They sat across from each other at a long wooden table which occupied the dining room of TG’s manor.  They were not there for a meal, however.  They were there for a Meeting.

            “Is everyone here yet?” whined their accomplice, Girl Stalker, as she walked in from the kitchen, carrying and consuming tortillas.

            “No,” said TG with an edge to her voice.  “We’re still waiting for Beanie Girl.”

            Girl Stalker plopped down into a chair and complained, “She still owes me a hat.”

            Lemon Girl was now cutting apart another lemon, and commencing to eat the slices.

            “You’re going to corrode all the enamel from your teeth with all that acid.” TG said icily.

            “Am not.” said Lemon Girl, and she flashed them a smile of the most brilliant white.  TG muttered darkly to herself as she turned away, so as not to become blind. 

            TG was a girl of average height.  She had light brown skin, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes fringed with black lashes, all natural colorations.  Her lips were rather round and full and her nose was like a small hawk beak.  She had rather large breasts (which were also natural), a somewhat chubby middle and a well-shaped behind.  To put it lightly, she was top-heavy.  She used tortillas for their Ultimate Power, and usually ate them plain, only cooking them into meals when entertaining.  She didn’t entertain often, as she was never quite sure of her friendship status with others, and was also never able to get a date.  She made all her tortillas by hand.  In fact, most of her time was spent rolling them out, as she was a purist and opposed to those tortilla press machines.  But today she had quit her tortilla-making early, as to host this Meeting of Utmost Importance.

            Lemon Girl was the major cause of TG’s annoyance.  As we know, Lemon G has an incredibly bright smile due to her almost constant consumption of lemons.  She was somewhat taller than average, and had a like for shoes with large heels, heightening her stance even more.  She was stick-thin, with extraordinarily pale skin and light blond hair that reached her shoulders.  She wore heavy makeup around the eyes, which were large and probably violet.  No one was ever quite sure.  Her lips were thin, but well shaped, which made the narrowness forgivable.  She was a girl that did date on occasion, but the dates were a source of major drama in her life and she was unable to find the right man.  She believed lemons had an Ultimate Power, far more ultimate than tortillas.

            Girl Stalker had too much time on her hands, as will probably become apparent.  She was a short girl with extremely short hair of dark blond, and large blue eyes.  Her skin was practically white, as she only came out at night.  It was nighttime now.  Her lips were a nice shape and size, and her body, though fairly curvy, could do without a few of those extra pounds.  Though Stalker had a large obsession with boys, she had never been asked on a date.  Of course, that would indicate the guy knew about her.  Even TG’s record was not so spotless, but then, TG was a few years older than Stalker.  Stalker really liked cameras.

            The door flung open.  TG gasped as a tortilla flew across the room from the wet gust of cold wind that now filled the room.  Framed in the doorway stood a figure shrouded by a trench coat. 

            “You’re late.”  TG informed the silhouette.

            “Finally we can start,” Stalker said, and set up the projector.

            Beanie Girl stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and commenced to unwrap herself from the multiple layers of clothing she wore.  Once she removed the scarf one could note the face: long, with high cheekbones, large laughing green eyes, a classic nose, and nicely fill-out lips.  When she got down to a normal amount of clothing, one could see her height (above average) and body shape (a nearly perfect hourglass).  Brown curly hair streamed forth from underneath her beanie hat, which remained on her head through all circumstances.  She always wore (and frequently made) beanies because she believed in their power of Ultimate Coolness.

            “Now,” TG began once Beanie sat down, “I’ve called you here for a very specific reason.  Long have I sat at my equipment—”

            “During the five minutes a day she’s not making tortillas.”  Stalker muttered to Beanie.

            “Or eating them.”  Beanie added.  They both snickered surreptitiously.

            “—searching for something, aware that there was something greater out there, something Ultimate.”

            “Hear, hear!” Lemon G shouted randomly.

            “Thank you.  Now, it is my belief that for everything out there, somewhere in the world there exists an Ultimate Form.  There can only be one Ultimate Form at a time, and when it is dispensed of, another equally ultimate Form is manifested somewhere else in the world.”

            “Yes, we’ve all read Plato.  Now come on, get to the point.”  Stalker said.  Beanie narrowed her eyes at Stalker, realizing that this concept, while somewhat related, was more along the lines of opposite to what Plato taught.  Behind her, she could smell the uplifting scent of another sacrificial lemon.

            “Ahem.” TG said.  “At first my search was varied, but then I began to look for one thing.  I think we all know what it is.” 

The other girls nodded vigorously, and Lemon G said, “A date!”

“That’s right,” TG continued, suppressing the urge to deck her.  She needn’t sound so cheerful about it.  After all, Lemon G was the only one of them that could even get a guy to voluntarily look at her.  “But I knew that I couldn’t settle for just any date.  I mean, let’s face it.  We’re all worth someone more than just the average guy.  So I employed the use of Girl Stalker here,” Stalker nodded energetically, “to help me find him.  Girls, what I was looking for was the Ultimate Hot.”

There were gasps and murmurs among themselves as the girls considered this prospect.  Imagine, a date with the Ultimate Hot!  It was too much to bear.  TG let things continue in this vein until the drama was just about to wear off, then continued.  “I have narrowed down the search to three suspects.  Stalker, if you will commence?”

“Certainly, old chap!”  Stalker said as she hopped out of her chair and turned on the projector.  It flickered, and then began rolling.  “Ultimate Hot Suspect #1: Almost Perfect Boy.” She commented as the film rolled.  “Age: Twenty-three.  Height: 5’6”, admittedly a little short, but that can be overlooked.  Hair: Black, bedhead.  A black goatee to match.  Eyes like hot chocolate, white skin.”

“He’s quite the looker,” Lemon G noted to Beanie. 

“He writes computer programs, games proficiently, manages several websites, has the ability to build whatever he wants to out of wood, favors Lord of the Rings over all other literature, speaks fluent l337, is a genius, wears three-piece suits, dances well, will soon work for the CIA, is a good cook—he even makes his own tortillas—” there was a squeal of delight from TG, “plays cards like a shark, plays pool like a cat, plays soccer like a rocket, and sings bass.” 

The film cut to a clip of him singing, “Shy girl, it’s written on your face, a mermaid out of water, feeling out of place.  Shy girl, trying to hide your blush, pretending that there’s something between the two of us.  Don’t run away, don’t be afraid, don’t be shy, girl.”

At this point, Annette, the French maid (who was everything a French maid should be) had to enter and collect the melted remains of Lemon G, Beanie and TG, and processed them through the Girl Re-Solidifier. 

And now the dear Reader may ask, “To whose benefit is the French maid?  There’s no boys in the story yet!” to which the loving Narrator would reply, “Shut up and read the story.”

Once the girls were solid again and sitting back down, Stalker continued the presentation.  “I realize he’s a magnificent singer, but seriously, girls, do you think you could refrain from such a display in the future?”

“Why didn’t you melt?” Lemon G asked in reply.

“You’ll slowly get more used to hearing his golden voice, until you no longer melt physically.  Of course, the heat is still there, but once you figure out that you can’t hear while in a liquid state, you force yourself to remain solid until at least the end of the song.”

“Wait a minute.”  Beanie interrupted.  “You said he sings bass, and I distinctly remember hearing an A above Middle C in that song!”

“Yeah, and if that’s how well he sings something so out of his range, imagine when he sings something in it!”

At which point TG promptly melted again.

“Thank you, Annette,” Stalker said as the ever-enduring French maid carted out the remains of the TG to be put through the Girl Re-Solidifier once more.  “Now, unfortunately, he is usually stuck beatboxing, which, might I add, is still quite noteworthy.  He is, in fact, the literal God of beatboxing.”

“Is there anything this kid can’t do?” asked Lemon G in awe.

“Well, it’s not so much that he can do everything, it’s more like he does it better than anybody else can.”

“So why is he called Almost Perfect Boy?” asked Beanie.

“Since we don’t know yet if he is the Ultimate Hot, we can’t, without blaspheming, entitle him as Perfect. Now,” Stalker continued, turning back to the screen, “not only can this guy do everything, he’s also nice.”

It was at this point TG entered and sat down once more, significantly more solid than before.  Meanwhile, Lemon G and Beanie were staring at Stalker in shock and disbelief.  “What does that mean?” Beanie asked.  “You don’t mean, like, nice nice, do you?”

Stalker nodded slowly.  “He’ll talk to you, befriend you, invite you over for a game a cards, give you tickets to one of his performances, let you hang out at his apartment whenever you want.  He’ll even let you use his computer.  He is, in a word, nice.”

The incredulous staring continued.  “No way!” Lemon G exclaimed.

“So you are beginning to see why this man is a Suspect.  As a completely unrelated side note, he’s the only Suspect without glasses.” Stalker said.

“That’s enough of AP Boy,” said TG, still looking dangerously watery.  “Move on, please, Stalker dear.”

Stalker returned TG’s facetious smile and put in a new disk.  “Ultimate Hot Suspect #2: Magnanimous Man.  Age: Twenty-four.  Height: 6’4”  He’s the tallest and oldest of the Suspects.  Hair: Dark brown.  Perfectly set teeth, an incredibly cute smile, and an infectious laugh.” Lemon G hid her delighted grin in the collar of her turtleneck, so as not to light up the incredibly good-looking projected image.  “Incidentally, is best friends with AP Boy, and is even in the same singing group.  Baritone.”

She eyed her audience warily.  “I think it would be wise to dispense with the singing clip and move on.” she added hastily.  She quickly pushed a button and the film jumped ahead.  “He is equal with AP Boy in soccer, computer programming and repair, and card playing.  He is even better than AP Boy at cooking.  He is the smoothest, slickest man you will ever meet, and every girl that meets him wants to, well, jump his bones.  The cause of this is yet undetermined, but he could have the pick of any girl he could possibly wish for.  Yet he never takes advantage of anyone.  Magnanimous Man’s most outstanding quality is his ability to make everyone feel appreciated as a person.  It’s the most incredible thing in the world.  Not only is he as nice as AP Boy, but at times he can make you feel like you’re the only person in the world that matters.  You could just be sitting there, minding your own business, a normal person, and he could flash a smile at you, or give you high five, or ever so subtly rub your shoulders, and suddenly, you’re a goddess.”

“Sweet.” commented Beanie. 

“He is also the best masseuse to ever grace this planet.  It’s been proven.” Stalker said authoritatively.  “He will give you a massage at your behest, any kind you’d like.  You have to try your hardest not to melt.”

“So that’s two melting factors for Magnanimous Man but only one for AP Boy.” TG muttered to herself, then said aloud, “Look, I hate to cheat the boys, but we haven’t got all night.”

Stalker picked up the hint and inserted a third disk.  “Ultimate Hot suspect #3: Awesome Kid.  At age eighteen and height 5’5”, he is the youngest and shortest of the Suspects, but he also shows the most promise.  To attain the status of Suspect without yet having gone through Perfection shows great promise indeed.”

            Perfection was something that happened to every male in society.  The boy would disappear suddenly and mysteriously at age nineteen, only to return two years later as the man he was destined to be for the rest of his life.  Some boys changed extremely, while others, hardly at all.

            “His hair is strawberry blond and curly; his lips are full and pouty, his teeth are symmetrical, though rather gappy and somewhat pointy.  His eyes are hazel and sincere.  He writes, listens to every type of music on the globe with the exception of rap and various divisions of death metal, makes films, likes fantasy, prefers French New Wave films,”

            A delighted “Oo!” was heard from behind the door, and TG shouted, “Marie, begone!”

            “Uh, her name’s Annette.” Beanie pointed out.

            “is a genius,” Stalker continued, as though there had been no interruption, “has the most extensive vocabulary of the Suspects, watches Britcoms, reads comics (web and strip), speaks l337, is proficient in dork, geek, and nerd cultures, is actually eclectic and not some kind of wanna-be, and he even knows what eclectic means.  In fact it has been theorized that he knows everything, although the theory hasn’t been tested.  You could talk to him about anything, and he could speak coherently and intelligently on the subject.  If, by some far-fetched chance, he wasn’t an expert on the subject, his willingness to learn far more than makes up for that fact.  In short, he’s an intellectual delight.”

            At this point Annette entered to mop up the ever-increasing puddle of drool collecting under the seats of the three girls.

            “He has the determination to do anything he set his mind to, and on top of that, he’s nice as well.  When he talks to you, he makes you feel like, out of all the things he’s studied, you are the most interesting thing he has ever come across.  He asks you questions about yourself, he listens to the answers, he cares about what you say.  And he is, in no way at all, conceited concerning his superior intelligence.”

            “Holy Iluvatar!” Beanie exclaimed.  “You mean there’s three nice guys in the world?”

            “Not only in the world, my dear, cool friend, all three of these guys live in this city.  And they all have senses of humor like you wouldn’t believe.”

            Three jaws dropped, six eyes bugged, and then, with a sigh, Lemon G fainted.  Annette entered and carted her away to the Girl Re-Energizer, and soon she came in again, looking shaken, but conscious.

            “How many of those machines do you have?” she asked in an awed tone.

            “How many things can go wrong?” TG replied smartly.

            “So you don’t spend all your time making tortillas.”  Beanie said.  “You’re inventing machines… Machines to make women more stable.  Then why the tortilla act?”

            “What do you think powers the things?”

            “So what you’re saying is, using the Power of the Tortilla, you’re creating inventions to remove the weaknesses of the female kind, in order to make us truly superior, and that, coupled with the power of the Ultimate Hot, will bring us to world domination!” Stalker said excitedly.

            TG nodded.

            “Just think…” Lemon G said in a hushed tone, “what would happen, were that plan combined with the Ultimate Power of Lemonkind!”

            “And beanies!”

            “And cameras!”

            The other three paused, then turned to look at Stalker incredulously.  “…Swords?”  Stalker offered.

            “So you see that it is imperative to discover which of these men is the Ultimate Hot.  Without them, my plan for world domination will fail.”

            “And what’s in it for us?” Lemon G asked, realizing that “my plan for world domination” didn’t include herself.

            “Have you been paying any attention to what Stalker was saying?” TG said imperiously.  In all truth, she had been too busy soaking in the lovely visuals to pay much attention to Stalker, who, after all, was just another girl.  “The dates, people, the dates!  I’m providing you all with the chance to date someone who could very well be the Ultimate Hot!  Who would you be to pass it up?  What kind of a woman could you consider yourself after that?  Now, to the Tower!”

            She swept away to a door and the others followed.  They spiraled up and up, only getting occasional glances to the outside through the intermittent arrow slit.  It appeared the storm outside was deepening.  As they struggled up the never-ending steps behind TG, Lemon G asked,

            “But how will we get them to date us?  Why would they possibly choose us out of everyone else?  Like Stalker said, they could all have their pick of any girl!  Why would they choose us of all people?  Let’s face it: we’re all dateless losers!”

            TG turned, snarling at Lemon G.  “We’re all dateless losers?  Which one of us was the last to have a boyfriend?”

            “I hardly think Annette counts,” Lemon G said, oblivious to TG’s actual point.  “Can we really call what she has ‘boyfriends’?”

            “Now!” TG exclaimed dramatically as she slammed open a door at the top of the staircase.  “Now my plan will at last begin to unfurl!  Behold!  The Selective Brainwave Hypnotizing/Suggesting Machine!”

            “What!  You mean you actually have a Selective Brainwave Hypnotizing/Suggesting Machine?!”  Beanie cried out in shock. 

            “I’ve heard about them, in stories.” Stalker said.  “I never thought such an intricately nefarious machine actually existed… But now, I stand before one…”  If anyone had bothered to look back, they’d have noticed a tear of appreciation running down her cheek.

            “Yes, and it’s mine!  I made it!  It belongs to me!”

            “If you’ve had one of these all along,” Lemon G asked, “then why haven’t you used it to convince everyone that you already are the Royal Empress of the World?”

            TG paused.  “I could do that, it’s true,” she said, “But it wouldn’t be the same.  I wouldn’t have the Holy, Awesome, Ultimate Power that I seek.  Such brainwashing would be utterly unfulfilling.”

            “You coulda used to it get us some dates before now.”  Stalker muttered sourly, but no one noticed.

            “I will use this Machine to get you dates!  Dates with the Suspects!  Muahahahahaha!”  As she laughed manically, the lightning flashed menacingly in accordance.

            “Are you sure it’s safe you use this machine in such a bad storm?” Beanie asked.  Their volumes were continually increasing to match the battering winds about the tower.

            “Safe?” TG said manically.  “It was built for such conditions!” She pushed the “on” button and an extensive control panel lit up. 

            Pushing her way through the group, Stalker was able to finally see the Machine.  A huge, bulbous needle pointed out to the sky, connected through various, intertwining cords to the control panel, which bore switches, buttons, and plugs.  To the side sat three chairs, which looked all too similar to the ones with which they execute people.

            “Now we upload our data into the Machine.” TG said, pointing to the three chairs.  Lemon G, Beanie and Stalker headed toward the chairs, not without trepidation, but the prospect of a date was enough to get them to do anything.  As they reached the first chair, Stalker and TG bumped into each other.  “Girl Stalker?  You’re still here?  Begone, your work here is done.”

            This caused Stalker to reflect, somewhat bitterly, that her natural invisibility was what caused her to become a stalker in the first place.  Angrily, she turned and stomped down the stars, promising herself that someday she would send TG a very threatening note.  Unfortunately, that day was afar off, because as she brushed her way hurriedly down the steps, she accidentally pushed a trigger which caused the staircase to collapse underneath her, sending her to the Tortuous Pits of Doom.  It suddenly became very apparent just how intent Tortilla Girl was on this world domination business.

            TG strapped the other two into the chairs, then herself, and reached for the switch which would upload their brainwaves into the Machine.  However, she didn’t do the measurements when building the Machine, and was unable to reach the switch.  “Oh, for the love of Iluvatar,” she muttered angrily, grabbing a nearby broomstick and prodding the switch with it.

            With a ghastly green glow, their brainwaves were uploaded into the machine and collected as data.  After freeing themselves from the chairs, TG explained, “Now I will match your brainwaves with those of the boys, which I have already collected.”  No one bothered to ask how, for fear of the answer.  “I will then send out the beam, straight into the brains of the boys.  Tomorrow you will meet them, and they will find you to be everything they ever wanted.”

            The next night Tortilla Girl was to be found floating about her manor in a fit of elation.  She had just come back from the most romantic, utterly perfect date with AP Boy.  “There is no doubt about it,” she told herself.  “Almost Perfect Boy is the Ultimate Hot.” 

            Eventually the other two drifted in, dreamy, far-off looks on their faces and feet inches above the ground, murmuring such things as, “He’s wonderful… perfect…  Ultimate Hot…”

            Suddenly, before the meeting could even be started, TG burst into tears.  “I can’t do it,” she sobbed.  “How can I possibly take advantage of the one I love so much?”  Annette, always the keen and chipper kind of French maid, recognized TG’s problem and quickly ran her through the De-Estrogenifier.  This managed to calm TG somewhat, at least until her body was able to restore its supply of estrogen.

            “Right,” TG said briskly, as though nothing had happened.  Lemon G and Beanie continued to sit there, floating above their seats, staring happily into space.  TG glared at them and said, “Cosette, if you would?”  Annette, by now used to answering to many different names, took the two to the Gravitationer, which managed to bring them to Earth in more than one respect.  “Now,” TG said, “based on the evidence we have gathered from our… meetings with the suspects, we must decide which of the three is the actual Ultimate Hot.”

            Naturally, all three thought that their particular date was the Ultimate Hot.  So it didn’t go over well when TG announced that AP Boy was beyond a doubt the Ultimate Hot, and Lemon Girl had to fire back with, “But Magnanimous Man’s an even better cook than AP Boy!”  The fight soon left the verbal arena as Beanie picked up a chair and swung it as she yelled “AK all the way!”  Which then triggered a total brawl.

            This continued for quite some time, each girl fighting valiantly for the honor of her love, when suddenly a blaring screeching noise filled the room, causing Beanie to drop Lemon G and TG to release her inimical grasp on Beanie’s hair, and Lemon G to drop Beanie’s beanie.  The noise sounded sort of like metal cutting rapidly through wood, but with the resonance and timbre of a semi truck’s horn.  The noise was, in fact, a laser gun cutting through the stone wall.  As the wall crumbled and the smoke and dust cleared, the tip of the gigantic gun came into view as its wielder stepped out: Stalker.  She had a murderous look on her face that meant business.  Real business. 

            “Hello girls,” she said sardonically.  “How lovely to see you all again so soon.”

            “You’re too late!” TG snarled.  “My plan is already in action.  While I was waiting for these dupes after my date, I decided I love AP too much to hurt him.”

            “Aw, how cute, you’ve got a pet name for him already.” Stalker said scathingly.  “However, I fail to see how that has done anything but hinder your plan.”

            “Tonight, I have created my ultimate weapon.  If you will follow me, girls, then it will be unveiled.”

            Again they followed TG up the stairs, but this time not quite so high.  Opening a secret door in the wall, TG swept dramatically into her main lab.  “Behold!” she announced, her voice resounding in the cavernous area.  The many machines therein hardly filled the space.  “The Weapon of Ultimate Destruction!  Using the Powers of Tortillas, Lemons and Beanies, I will rule with an iron fist!  Forever shall one name terrorize the minds of the young and innocent:  Tortilla Girl!”

            “Never!” Stalker roared, charging at Tortilla Girl with all her might. 

            No one was quite sure, not even Girl Stalker herself, what exactly happened next.  Let us first point out that the foul weather had continued and was now raging more than ever.  There were sparks, at the lights suddenly went out with a small explosion.  When they were restored, Stalker was sitting tied, the giant beam of the Weapon of Ultimate Destruction pointed directly at her head.  The laser spot rested readily upon her head, and it would take merely a flick of a switch for her head to no longer exist.

            “You see,” TG said calmly, “I plan on wiping out all who oppose me.  Starting, my dear friend, with you.”

            There was then the sound of a machine kicking in, starting up, and humming happily.  TG paused, listening intently to the sound.  “That is a sound I have not heard in a long time,” she said softly, and turned to confront the offending machine.  “It works!” she shouted joyously when she realized where the sound was originating.  “The Girl De-Lovifier works!”

            Her joy was cut short, though, by the door slamming open and Annette rushing in, looking scared and disheveled.  “Zey are coming!” she gasped.  “Ze Suspects!  Zey are coming to the manor!”  The three girls squealed excitedly, but Annette shouted, “Non, non!  Zey are coming wiz weapons!  Ultimate Weapons!”

            The meaning of this hit TG first, and since she had been through the De-Estrogenifier, she was the only one thinking clearly.  “We must fight them!” she commanded.  “Quick, through the De-Lovifier!”  When the girls held back, she added, “It’s a lot less painless than getting dumped!”  Which hurried the girls on through.

            TG, Lemon G and Beanie readied themselves for battle.  Presently the door slammed open once more, and there, standing in all their magnificence, stood Awesome Kid, Almost Perfect Boy and Magnanimous Man.

            “Thou unholy fiend from the deepest pit, we challenge thy evil, for the purpose of all that is good!”  AK yelled, pointing forward the tip of his mighty broadsword in the stance of a challenge.  He was wearing a black suit and tie, with black framed glasses.  AP Boy stood beside him, a tremendous crossbow nocked and ready to fly its tip through a heart of darkness.  A hood shadowed his face, the cloak billowing behind him.  In the back of them stood Magnanimous Man, his weapon still undisclosed. 

            “The Weapon, Man.”  AP Boy whispered.  “May your shot fly true.  For once.” 

            In a single moment, in a connected movement, AP Boy and AK attacked; and Magnanimous Man moved forward with his Weapon.  He wore simple gym shorts and a white t-shirt.  He lifted it to his mouth, whispered, “Vole, ballon de foot,” and drop-kicked.  The soccer ball flew straight and bounded off the Weapon of Ultimate Destruction, knocking it off balance.  It swerved and toppled, crashing loudly against the stone floor, crushing itself with its own weight.  

AK went after TG with his sword.  She attempted to stop him with the laser gun, but found this difficult when the barrel was removed, courtesy of the sword.

            “You didn’t tell us he could speak French!”  Lemon G yelled to Stalker, who replied from her tied-up position, “Well, I hardly thought it a point in his favor.”  A disgruntled but pretty-sounding “Hmph!” was heard from wherever Annette was hiding.

            Lemon G was yet weaponless, and when she was attacked with the crossbow, in a fluid, electric motion she grabbed something off the table next to her, and like lightning blocked and twisted the arrow away from herself.  It sat lodged within the object she had used as a shield, a book.  “Heart of Darkness,” she read above where the arrow has penetrated.

            “That’s impossible,” AP Boy said breathlessly, and before he had noticed, she had flitted away, hiding now from his view.  “How did she do that?”

            “Electrolytes.”  AK answered, “From the lemons she eats.  The air is so charged with electrons from the storm, she is actually using herself as electricity to move like lightning.”  He was still battling against TG, who was using the remaining part of the massive laser gun to block AK’s mighty blade.

            Meanwhile, now that Magnanimous Man’s Weapon was lost somewhere within the confines of the lab, he had taken to straight-up hand combat with Beanie Girl.  These two defied all rules, mixing karate with kung fu, and even throwing in a bit of ninjutsu when they got the chance.  At the same time, arrows were flying with seeming reckless abandon as AP Boy took a shot every time he got a glimpse of Lemon G, who was flitting and flying about insanely.  Many of the arrows lodged into the machines, and sparks were rampant.

            All around her TG could see her empire crumbling.  There went the one machine, then another as the arrows penetrated the metal with their awesome speed, and her Weapon, her one and only true accomplishment, had already been destroyed.  She knew she know longer had any reason to live—not even for her tortillas.  With a feint attack, she swung the butt of the gun towards AK, then let go.  It flew through the air, harmless, but AK’s block didn’t.  He sliced through the air, fully intending to meet metal on metal, but instead the blade sliced flesh, and Tortilla Girl was suddenly no more.  Her headless body crumpled, blood dripping freely down to the cold stone, and as she hit the ground she collapsed into a pile of tortillas.

            The others stopped fighting, almost automatically.  Lemon G appeared and Beanie dropped her stance and stared at Magnanimous Man with almost a look of fright and confusion.  AP Boy lowered his crossbow, as did AK did with his sword.  “May her blood stand as a symbol of liberty to the oppressed,” he whispered, and sheathed his sword.  “You are now free from her spell,” he said to Lemon G and Beanie.  Stalker cleared her throat and Almost Perfect Boy freed her of her bonds. 

            “What spell?”  Lemon Girl asked, and AK explained, “When she was uploading your data onto her hypnotizing machine, she also implanted hypnosis into you, causing you to be loyal to her commands.  But as the Wielder of the Power of Tortilla is destroyed, everything using the Power of Tortilla is now obsolete until a new Tortilla Wielder is brought forth.”

            “So,” Stalker said, “which one if you really is the Ultimate Hot?”

            The boys paused, then all laughed heartily.  “None of us is the Ultimate Hot.” Magnanimous Man explained.  “We are simply wielders, as yourselves, of Ultimate Objects and their Powers.”

            AP Boy put his arm around Stalker, followed by Lemon G with Magnanimous Man, and Beanie with Awesome Kid.  They filed out into the dawn light.

Back in the lab, Annette removed herself from her hiding place, walked up to the pile of tortillas, and began to eat them.