Friday, March 29, 2013

Spanner 21.2: Show Me Your Plan

...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 21: High School Banned
Part 2: Show Me Your Plan (Final Revision)

26 october 2014.
shira’s apartment.
Shira cuddles in her bed with her girl with no name. “Wow, I’m still buzzed from Friday night.”

“I still haven’t come completely back to earth,” says the girl with the violet eyes.

“We’ve got till Friday, so you still got time to recover.”

“But will Bart’s friends let us? The terrorist ones, I mean.”

Shira laughs. “Well, his big bro the Terrorist refuses to forgive me for the Blackberry Festival or Mark Bernkastel, so there’s still a grudge Challenge in my future, the poor loser.” Now the girl laughs.

—they kiss with violent passion, bite each other into a frenzy, take turns spanking each other with Mobley’s paddle, collide each other’s cunts, battle into unbearable ecstasy till their selves collapse into each other—

Out of the shower their bodies are inseparable all the way to breakfast. Kira stares at them open-mouthed. “Wow, you two look so into each other it’s almost hard to believe.” Shira runs up to her twin and gives her a big kiss.

Hope breaks the happy mood. “Girls, don’t forget the IPO’s coming up.”

“And the anti-violence rally’s on Friday,” says Shira, “and the Man don’t like it one bit.”

Kira adds, “The Man sure loves his ultraviolence, don’t he.”

“Especially against women, the monster. We got a big surprise in store for him, big time.”

“After that,” Hope reminds, “there’s the election coming up.”

Kira sighs. “As if they’d allow anything so offensively democratic.”

Shira puts an arm around her. “The important election’s the one the Student Union’s holding. Not for leaders, but whether to strike. Explain, Hope?”

“The way the old unions survived the Revolution as Guilds was to take control over dues away from the workers and in the hands of now unelected managers using it as a private slush fund.”

“If the teachers aren’t allowed to withdraw their dues, much less strike, students can control the tuition we pay. That’s the reason for the Student Union.”

“The reasoning,” says the nameless girl, “is that the students can use their power to help the teachers regain control over their own Guild.”

“By threatening the public-school monopoly with bankruptcy.”

“Our goal is really to take it over. It properly belongs to the teachers and students, not hedge-fund predators.”

“Whoa, princess,” Hope marvels, “you sure come a long way down from your throne there.”

“Oh, why do you keep forgetting I destroyed my tiara? I showed you the ruins.” Hope hugs her; the twins laugh.

green mountain. Jack Becket finds Peter Ross on the fourth-hole tee. The fat man swings his driver, swings it again. He doesn’t care that the grass is still wet. The COPCO chief grabs the club. “Petey boy, you and me got ourselves a black eye from a bunch of naked girls. What do you have to say about that?”

Ross thrusts the club at Jack’s head, making him stumble backwards. “I’d say you’re in the way. You wouldn’t like to lose your remaining eye, would you?”

“Okay, okay. Now explain that rave on your property.”

Ross makes another practice swing, then stares at Jack. “Dancing on our Revolution’s more like it. Those naked girls are a serious blot on American Manhood.”

“I hear they’re even sleeping together.”

“I hear they killed your grandfather.”

Jack glares at him with his one eye. “They why don’t you let us kill ’em?”

“Ask your buddy Al. I’m sure he knows.”

They stare each other down. Pause. “Shira Thomas, Pete. Specialist in beating the system, remember?”

“Right now I’m more worried about her mother. She’s the one in a position to break the system. If I were you, John, I’d keep one eye on her at all times. If you know what I mean.” At last, Ross hits the ball. As usual, it drifts away from the fairway and into the rough.

“The daughter knows your handicap. But do you know hers?”

Ross and Becket stare at each other and say nothing.

red house. Not in the second-story game room but the basement recording studio Team Spanner assemble. Shira reports, “Fleer’s gone, Honey Bunny’s in deep shit, the Student Council imploded, we won the big Team Challenge, and our Student Union’s ready to take the fight to SPEC.”

“We’re talking with the other Student Unions districtwide,” Colette adds, “so we can take Friday’s rally citywide and work together on the election.”

The girl with the violet eyes counters, “But now they have Currie in Fleer’s place, Ross is still hiring bringing in vigilantes, Colonel Green and the Terrorist surely want revenge, and CPMC still says no election ever, full stop.”

“It’s far worse than you think, young ladies,” warns Peck. “The Conservative Revolutionary Party was built on hate. They think nothing of massacring every city in the Western world to purify their holy land.”

“They think nothing of cutting off their nose to spite their face if it gives their precious Egos satisfaction.”

Moon Roach says, “I thought we were like fighting ghosts, Shira.”

“Moon darling, what are Egos? We’re slaying ghosts.”

“Like in those ‘spiritual warfare’ novels the official publishing houses way overprint?” says Polly cheerfully.

“Smashing idols, more like,” Shira replies.

“Speaking of smashed idols,” asks Cory, “how come nobody noticed Fleer and Falconer for so long?”

“They were careful to not get caught, till the wronged wife gave me the spanner to throw in the works. If he really was doing Vivian, with the right Exception he could have married her, and polygamy’s politically correct in the high Party circles. Right, Jen?”

“It’s an ancient aristocratic tradition to marry solely within the family to keep the bloodline pure,” Jennifer explains. “Corporates have the added motivation of keeping the family fortune in the family.”

Polly mock accuses her, “I bet you and your wife had something to do with it, didn’t you.”

“I wish. Still, Willa and I do anything we can to fuck up the Rules.” Jennifer winks.

Shira: “So we still need to misdirect ’em. The Foursome are still fearsome, they still have it in for us puny humans, and now they’re pissed and want revenge. If we wanna have our rally, much less an election, we need to redirect their rage away from us and toward each other. We do that, they’re over and we win.”

“Hoo boy,” Deth exults, “this is starting to get interesting like the Chinese curse says! I love it!”

minuteman base. Stan and Bart Green flank their father the Colonel as he rallies the troops. “Men!” The assembled militants let out an approving roar. “Friday night my son and his team of fighters were humiliated in the biggest fight of their life by a bunch of girls! Naked girls!” The offended militants howl in rage; Stan twitches, but Bart only stares grimly. “Mere girls are raping our sovereign rights as Men and spitting on the sacred flag of Our Nation! We cannot let this go on and remain Men! We must fight to regain our rights as Men! We must have revenge!”

A thousand Minuteman militants, fuelled by meth and “man essence” and revolutionary rage, let out the revolutionary chant: “Riot! Riot! Riot!” He looks on with pleasure as his men build themselves up into a frenzy.

Stan giggles maniacally. “We got them bitches fucked for sure!” Bart answers with a deadly glare. “What’s that for, bro?”

“You idiot,” Bart yells, “we’re falling right into that woman’s trap and they don’t even know it!”

“Ha! She’s only a girl!”

“You forget what she did to you the day before school?” Stan flinches like he’s been slapped. “And then your Blade Knight friend on day one! Remember what happened to him?”

Stan pats his brother on the back. “Have faith, Bart. American Manhood shall prevail if the Lord can help it.” Bart remains silent, but glares at Stan for the rest of the rally.

bremerton ferry. Shira leans against the railing to watch the Seattle car ferry and Port Orchard foot ferry try to leave without getting in each other’s way. Sparks leans next to her. “What’s up, redhead?”

“Trouble, of course, but you knew that.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Shira smiles. “Well, you can’t come, sorry.”

“To what?”

“Private thing. Uncle Renzo wants to hold a victory celebration for his favorite delivery person, and he’s inviting just my fighters and his delivery staff and Cousin Junior.”

“Ooooh. Is your girlfriend jealous?”

“She knows as well as him he doesn’t stand a chance with me.”

“I know what Chief Mobley’s chuckling over right now.”

“Like what kind of silly crap he getting into this time?”

“Not him. Minuteman.”

She tilts her head and looks at him strangely. “Noooo.”

“Bart’s lost Manhood. The Colonel plans to avenge it. Prepare. Be seeing you.” She watches him leave. Already a plan takes shape in her mind. She smiles.

black tower. Brinkman sits in his desk in the penthouse office; Everson, Currie, and Chief Becket stand behind him at the window overlooking the city; Litton sits to the side with his legs propped on the desk. Ross stands cross-armed before them and faces them down. Brinkman puffs on his cigar. “So you got this little problem at this one school of yours, and you want my help?”

“You should be familiar with that problem, Governor,” Ross replies. “It has no name, refuses to marry your colleague’s worthless grandson, lives in sin with another underage female, and along with said female has just defeated my company’s best young Tournament fighters, and to add insult to injury, did it in the altogether, in insolent mockery of America’s sacred Manhood. Said problem is not so little and is very much yours.”

“A tiny matter of deep shit, in other words,” says Litton.

“My grandson is not worthless,” Everson protests.

“He is worth much money, Shepherd, but has no sense whatsoever,” Ross says. “But it is your granddaughter, Governor, and her partner in moral depravity who will be the death of you, and indeed of all of us, if we do not put a stop to their subversion forthwith. One of your own has already paid the ultimate price as a result. And as you are the only men more powerful than I in this city, yes, I do need your help, now.”

Admiral Currie says as cheerily as ever, “Your defeated champion’s father is rallying his troops to avenge the insult to his son’s sacred Manhood as we speak. And if that doesn’t work, I have American air power at my fingertips.”

“Fuck that,” says Litton. He waves a sheaf of papers at Ross. “Your company records say they’re working for you as tutors. So why the fuck don’t you just fire the bitches? Problem solved!”

Ross’ fat face begins turning red with fury. “The problem, Mr. ‘Rat Bastard,’ is a certain so-called ‘Student Union’ that is developing in my company-owned schools for the sole purpose of destroying my company! The other problem, who lives in wickedness with the Governor’s granddaughter who so insolently rejected her name, just happens to be the daughter of my company’s most dangerous enemy.”

“You mean Shira Thomas, right?”

“The very one.”

“Very devious young lady, that one. In my trade, Shira Thomas has a reputation for turning adversity and bad reputation to her advantage. You can throw all the crap you want at her, and she’ll still come out smelling like a rose.”

“You have come into conflict with that one, Mr. Litton?”

“She’s the reason I’m here in the first place. But I’ll have to ask you again, why haven’t you fired her yet?”

Ross snarls, “Her cousin is a lawyer.” Jack spits at the mention of Angela Coyne.

Everson says, “We’ll need one hell of a plan to put an end to that one, then.”

“What the hell is your plan, then?” shrieks Ross. “Show me your plan!

old town silverdale. To celebrate his favorite deliverer’s victory in the Team Challenge, Uncle Renzo closes the Silverdale Pizza Mafia for a private party to the Rat Pack soundtrack of her choice. His Mafia-suited goons zealously follow his order to keep out all cops, gangsters, muscleboys, and Party spies. Shira and Kira misdirect Jack Becket’s copbots against each other and Echelon’s camdrones and bugbugs to celebrity duty. All of Team Bremelo and all the Kitsap Kouriers are present, and anything they want is on the house. The girl with the violet eyes has suspicions about “Adam Treece,” but Frank happily reassures her Team Valiant are stupid muscleboys who deserved to lose to such superior women, so with a sigh she relents. Overjoyed to be reunited with her, his sister Debbie throws herself sobbing and deliriously squealing into her arms while Frank kisses Shira, who then hugs and kisses Sophie and Kei like a long-lost girlfriend and introduces them to her team. The Kouriers think they’re cool enough, but treat the three victorious nudefighters like conquering heroes; nevertheless, the nudefighters remain in their clothes out of respect for Uncle Renzo.

Everybody knows Renzo’s twenty-something son Cousin Junior has wanted Shira for a long time, so nobody’s surprised to find them flirting. As usual, Sam rolls her eyes and sighs; he pats her on the shoulder and focuses his attention back on Shira. “Yo, redhead, I hear you bruised a lotta tough-guy Egos.”

She replies with a smirk, “Is that even news anymore?”

“I mean, beatin’ ’em naked? Gotta be hella humiliatin’.”

“Sucks to be them.” She winks.

A wide-eyed Kei asks the violet-eyed girl, “Is it really true you don’t have a name anymore?”

The girl smiles and nods. “Mm-hmm!”

Tana asks, “How do you even manage to live without one?”

“I’ll give you the detailed explanation if you want.”

“Please.”

Adam Toren and Warren Smith stare at Debbie still in her arms. “What”s she doing here?” asks Warren.

The girl looks at her. “Oh, her?” She holds her tighter and gives her a too-passionate kiss; at first Debbie panics and tries to struggle out, but her body surrenders with a gentle moan and she gives up.

Kei takes in an astonished sharp breath and grins. “She’s tsundere! I knew it!”

Debbie protests, “Why does everybody keep using that word?”

The new girl Sophie brought turns out to be Liz. Jennifer asks, “So you really are working with your biggest rival?”

“It’s a buck,” Liz snaps, “c’mon.”

Frank puts a hand on her shoulder and says conspiratorially, “If only Radica heard you say that. I hear she plans on flying when the one-eyed man orders the police to riot on election day.”

“Nooooo.”

“I know my old man inside and out.”

Jennifer lowers her glasses. “I see right through him, so I know what he’ll do before he can even think it.”

Shira grins wickedly. “Did you see the mass suicide extravaganza his bots put on the other week? Like an Esther Williams musical, even.”

Liz grits her teeth. “Don’t you guys get it? The Foursome’s itchin’ to put us down like wild dogs!”

“Like the Great White Hunters putting down the native insurrection?” Shira puts her hand to her mouth and lets out the movie-Indian war cry. Everybody laughs. “Seriously, we’re gonna take back control of our reservation, and the Great White Hunters can’t do nothing stop us. After all, they’re aliens to us, and we’re foreigners to them. So election day I’m flying naked, and I dare you and Radica to join me.”

“I’m in!” says Kira.

All attention turns to them. Shira, Kira, and a gleeful girl with no name put Liz on the spot. She turns three different colors. But then she looks back defiantly and holds out her hand to Shira. “I ain’t gonna be outdone by you or Maxima Radd. You’re on!” Grinning triumphantly, Shira shakes her hand.

Debbie blurts, “You guys are crazy!”

Shira winks back. “Like a fox.”

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Copyright © 2013 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
Creative Commons License

[Revision 4 Final, 3/29/13: Heavily revised for Final Revision continuity. Original title: “High Tension” (changed for obvious reasons).]

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