Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 21: High School Banned
Part 4: Test Your Might (Final Revision)
Part 4: Test Your Might (Final Revision)
29 october 2014.
shira’s apartment. When Shira wakes up from uneasy dreams, she notices her lover still wide awake. She rolls onto her and kisses her. “Hey, girl. Couldn’t sleep?”
“Two days,” the girl sighs. “The rally’s just two days away, the authorities are already going nuts, and I can’t wait.”
Shira gives her a mischievous smile. “Need a good hard fuck, eh?”
“The harder the better.”
While they make love like there’s no tomorrow, the others sip coffee at the kitchen table. Hope says, “I heard there was another incident at school.”
“Shira says it’s a regular thing by now,” says Kira. “The Man’s getting really really spooked.”
“More like Ross and Robson are scared shitless they won’t have their IPO and be able to replace all the teachers with robots.”
“Robots? Really?”
“They think it’s a waste to spend on real humans actually teaching things what could be better spent on personal profit and gratuitous bling. The American Way, they call it.”
Selene says, “It’s all coming down to them versus humanity.”
“Tell me about it...”
Shower’s done, the twins and the nameless girl are back at the door in boots, gloves, berets, and body jewelry. Hope sighs. “Don’t tell me you’re going out naked again...” They smile, wink, and leave.
ferry terminal. The bus waiting area is overcrowded with raging cops and Moral Enforcers willing to crush each other to death to get at the naked girls and pretty boys inside the nameless girl’s Repulse field. Rubber bullets bounce off, tear gas chokes the atmosphere, but the girl with the violet eyes yawns at their futile attempt to avenge their girl-raped Egos. The bus comes, Team Bremelo get on, and they leave the police riot behind.
cafeteria. Another explosion at the entrance: Los Punkz, most savage of the Spic Syndicates, jump the unprepared guards, crash through the doors, and rumble in on their two-wheeled war machines looking for to rape some teenage nudefighters and strike a warrior blow for Manhood. Debbie yells, “Incoming!”
“Everybody take your positions!” yells Shira.
“This is test number one,” Jennifer adds.
“Punk the Punkz!”
Dozens of students scramble to take the positions Shira and Jennifer have mapped out for them. Kira and the boys join Jennifer’s assistants Harumi, Sana, and Irina in hiding nearby, leaving six nudefighters standing in the way, signature weapons in hand: Shira (loaded Go-Yo™), Jennifer (kubotan), Polly (bo staff), Daisy (double sai), Brandi (bullwhip), and the girl with the violet eyes (katana). She asks, “Are you sure we can beat armed bikers without guns or superpowers?”
Shira kisses her and winks. “Trust me.” They hear Harumi giggle.
Soon enough, the Spic bikes roar around them in circles filling the cafeteria with foul-smelling exhaust. Several gangsters leap off and rush the nudefighters bearing bats and bludgeons. Jennifer says, “Test commencing.” The nudefighters unleash their weapons with blinding speed, send bludgeons flying through the air, knock gangsters into the circle of bikes.
(Harumi whispers, “Where’s the principals?” Kira chuckles: “Cowering under the back office desk.” Harumi rolls her eyes; “Oh.”)
Suddenly the lights go out: shades descend over the windows and doors to blot out the light: dismounted gangsters flail in the darkness at an enemy they cannot see, screaming Spanglish obscenities at each other, hitting only each other. By the time light is restored, they’re beating each other to bloody pulp and dealing a crushing defeat to themselves. The defenders are long gone.
principal’s office. The Defense Subcommittee reassemble here while the principals remain cowering in the back office. Jennifer says, “Test number one is a complete success.”
Akane asks, “How did you guys do that?”
“It’s something I normally do in broad daylight,” Shira replies. “I wanted to see if they could do it without me.”
“Sure enough,” says Kira.
“Well then,” Jennifer declares, “on to the next.”
ferry terminal. Two Caliphate suicide squads converging and no cops to be seen despite all the nude teenage girls capturing commuter attention. “Test number two,” says Jennifer.
“Terrorist turkey shoot,” says Shira.
“Remember to duck when I give the signal.”
Before the Westside buses arrive, two clunky cars carelessly race up the bus ramp. Shira calls Cory on her Droid. Now! The fire alarm sounds. People scatter away from the exposed walkways and out of the nearby buildings to safety. The nudefighters take their positions just outside firing range.
Right on cue another group of cars speed the wrong way up the opposite ramp and ram the cars already at the bus dropoff; several more armed men get out. The two groups accuse each other of blasphemy at the top of their lungs in Arabic and empty their AK clips into each other. Soon no Wogs are left alive to detonate their bomb jackets.
The Bremeloes reassemble in the fountain plaza, away from the cops cleaning up the carnage. Sparks comes up to Shira and crosses his arms. “How the hell did you manage to pull that?”
“Oh, I let each of their bosses know the other jacked their heroin stash,” says Shira casually. “Subtly, of course.”
evergreen park. The park looks perfectly normal right now, but for the arresting sight of seven naked girls of varying skin hues sporting gloves, berets, and boots. Things won’t stay normal for long. “Test number three,” says Jennifer.
“Hetzjagd auf Nazis,” says Shira.
Polly asks, “What’s the trick this time?”
“You just said the magic word.”
Jennifer puts a hand on Polly’s shoulder. “Did you notice their weakness yet?”
Shira gently leans on her other shoulder. “Cowardly and superstitious, like Batman says.”
“This is where the magic comes in.”
“Stage magic.”
Their confederates hide behind trees, gazebos, sheds, picnic tables, trash cans. Some cans move. They assemble inflatable monsters and arm them with Roman candles and bottle rockets, put on scary costumes, pick up spud cannons. The nudefighters remain in plain view. Spooked parkgoers, sensing trouble, scatter away. Polly asks, “How come we always have to be the bait?”
“We’re the trap.” Shira winks. The girls put Halloween masks over their heads.
Soon a horde of Honkies race into the parking lots in huge Hummers, wantonly smash cars, try to run over picnickers and joggers and dogs on the grass and especially their intended targets, the seven elusive nudefighters eluding their vehicular wrath to deliberately inflame their rage of injured Manhood to utter irrationality that causes them to crash into trees and each other. Rage-blinded muscleboys smash out of their wrecked vehicles and rush seven naked beauties in hideous masks.
Inflatable monsters pop out of the trash cans and firepits. Controlled by phones, wands, and Wiimotes, they fire at gangsters and four-bys. Other monsters leap out from behind barriers and descend from the trees, shooting potatoes into Honky windows and skulls.
The Honkies panic. The suddenness of the attack and the freakishness of their attackers convince them that they’re under attack from demons. Some run aimlessly and scream for Jesus America to save them. Some stop driving and cower under their wrecks. Some lash out in irrational rage and shoot wildly. But the demon attack does not let up. Soon the gangsters pile into the surviving Hummers and speed away the way they came, as fast as their panic can propel them.
The Bremeloes take off their masks and let out a wild collective whoop.
Polly, almost disappointed, asks, “That was the trick?”
Jennifer hugs her. “Some of the most effective illusions are right here.” She taps her head with her right index finger and smiles.
copco seattle. Jack Becket reviews intercepted phonecam videos of the Evergreen Park disturbance. “Looks like some clever gangbusting to me.”
Litton keeps his steely eyes on the screen. “You’re supposed to think that. Don’t be deceived. Our opponent is extremely clever. She’s obviously got something up her sleeve.”
thorwald property. When the girl with the violet eyes told Oliver her idea, Christie was horribly offended and Bunny thought it was ludicrous, but he said go ahead. Now Irina and Arisa join the nudefighters sneaking into strategic locations throughout his property while trespassing gangsters led by his enemy Johnny Skeever hold their intergang dogfight Tournament and trash the place just to spite the owner. Shira sends out rumors of treachery into the grapevine. While the day remains bright and the property is still empty, the girls hide inflatable demons in all the trash cans, firepits, and outhouses, and in every hidden nook and cranny in the warehouse and the crudely kludged arena, then install portable light shows in addition to the firework weaponry and replace all the hidden cameras with holographic projectors that look identical and contain microcameras to eliminate suspicion. Irina asks, “Why we always have to fight naked?”
Jennifer replies, “The sight of us is enough to drive ’em into an irrational frenzy of injured Egoism.”
“Fanservice as a deadly weapon,” says Shira.
“The gangs should be distracted by the dogfights and hyped up on adrenaline, meth, steroids and who knows what else.”
“Too bad Debbie couldn’t come along. I’d so love to see her watch these losers get pwned.”
“I can watch,” says Irina. Jennifer kisses her.
Lars calls Brandi and Arisa from the Slasher Hunter van. “Is everybody in place?”
“We’re all ready and rarin’ to go,” says Arisa.
“You girls really think you’re up to this?”
Brandi replies, “If we weren’t, we wouldn’t be doing it.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Good luck.”
At last, darkness falls and the gangsters are all here, drinking and brawling and making a deafening disturbance. “Test number four,” says Jennifer.
“Crash the Syndicate Tournament,” says Shira.
“The dark-night test.”
“This time with flashing lights.” The nudefighters sneak into the criminal commotion posing as naked gang molls and use the crowd itself as their camouflage. They slip remotely triggered firecrackers and compact fireworks into jacket and jean pockets and down the exposed butt cracks of fat gangsters. They put noisemakers into purses, pouches, and pockets, down breast and butt cleavage. The nameless girl in particular takes great pleasure in boobytrapping everything the Skeever brothers own. She intends to give Oliver and his growing mean-girl harem a good scare. But their true purpose, Jennifer explains, is to put a scare into the Fearsome Foursome.
The preparations are finished. The nine nudefighters sneak back out of the arena, snake through the parked cars and out of gangsters’ field of vision, back to the Slasher Hunter and KCUF vans where they take out their phones. Lars appears on their screens. “You girls all ready?” The Bremeloes click yes.
The Skeever Brothers arrive: Johnny, Geordie, Tony, and Eddie, who brings his hate metal band Gang: the Hitler Brothers, Sikki Sykopath, and a Barney SATAN! transformed into a headless DeadBot. The assembled gangsters hail the Skeevers like conquering heroes. Johnny Skeever commands the crowd like a Mongol khan. The gangsters are all as juiced up as their drug-maddened fighting dogs. Johnny is about to give the signal to unleash the dogs into the pit when the attack begins.
Glowing demons pop out of trash cans and hidden corners, firing their bright screaming Chinese explosives into the packed crowd of agitated gangsters.
Johnny Skeever growls, “Oh. fucking. shit!”
“Whoooo-hoo!” cries Lars. Shira flashes a beautiful wicked grin as she taps her phone screen wildly to activate multiple arrays of luminous inflatable attackers. Hackers and bounty hunters and high school fight clubbers wildly manipulate their controllers to remotely guide the monsters to hit their panicked targets. Gangsters shoot wildly at brightly lit moving targets; all too frequently they hit each other.
Shira taps the speaker icon. Deafening sirens scream between buttocks and breasts. Gangsters and molls howl and writhe in pain and struggle to get free of the painfully vibrating noisemakers and fling them away from their bodies. Before they can recover their breaths, she taps the firecracker icon. Firecrackers explode inside gangsters butt cracks; fireworks burn their way out of pockets; injured gangsters scream and rage and shoot and shoot and shoot.
“Consider yourselves owned, boys.” Shira taps the ghost icon to activate the holovid projectors. Ghosts and demons suddenly materialize and swoop down on the terrified Honkies, Russkies, Wops, and Tinks, firing lasers in five colors. The criminal crowds storm the arena exits in blind panic and trample each other to death.
The nameless girl makes her call. “Are you watching this, Oliver?” She finds him too busy helplessly laughing at his enemies’ plight to reply.
Left alone on the platform, humiliated and enraged, Johnny Skeever screams at the top of his lungs the name of Spanner.
30 october 2014.
red house. Halloween is already pre-scheduled, so Team Bremelo hold their inaugural Halloween costume party on Devil’s Night, when the MSM egg on the Corporates burning down poor neighbourhoods in honor of Satan (but really for kicks). They make sure to take advantage of Pizza Mafia’s Devil’s Night special offer. They chose Björk for their soundtrack on a whim.
The theme: magical girl cosplay; Shira and her sisters encourage all the girls to wear the power dresses of their favorite anime magical girls. The Tachibana sisters are Sailor Soldiers (with Seika looking squee-worthy crossdressing as Sailor Mercury), Mimi and her friends are Pretty Cures, Jennifer comes as (of course) Fate Testarossa, her cute cousin Samantha comes as Wedding Peach (complete with Care Bear Stare), Ayla is an adorable pink Ojamajo Doremi, Polly gives into her lapsed-Catholic side to cosplay as Mysterious Thief Saint Tail, Colette is an innocent-looking Madoka Kaname, Karen in her wheelchair is (as always) Card Captor Sakura, Debbie is (of course!) Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-chan, and, to the boys’ delight, the hostesses all (un)dress in the red mask, go-go boots, elbow gloves, and nothing else of Kekkou Kamen. “She’s really a sister team,” Charlie explains to Sparks.
He cocks his eyebrow. “That’s supposed to be a costume?”
“Genuine superheroine, even.” She winks.
He expects Charlie and Desiree to cosplay as naked superheroines, Ruby doesn’t surprise him, Shira and Kira couldn’t go as anyone else — but Elle? “Hey kid, aren’t you a little way too young to wear, uh, that?”
She pertly crosses her arms, peeks at the twins, protests “Aren’t they?” and walks away.
He is genuinely shocked to find Melody, one year younger, in the costume. “Hey! You’ve barely even reached puberty!”
“Hmph!” she snorts, “I’m a rebellious teenager now, so I can wear whatever I want.” She storms off. He can’t help but notice how pretty they look without costumes — he slaps himself.
He finds Melody’s nameless eight-year-old sister wearing the same (lack of) costume, blond ponytail emerging out the top of her mask, and squeaks. He can see her lower her eyebrows through the mask. “Hey, I’m a dedicated nudist, and I will not allow you or anybody else to put any clothes on me. So there.” She runs off into the arms of Desiree, who squeezes her daughter’s head between her breasts, making her tremble and squeal with delight; their attachment to each other is so intense, everyone can feel it.
“Hey, wait a minute—”
Desiree stops him with a look. “This is my daughter and this is how we are, so deal.” He turns away with a sigh.
He finds Debbie equally shocked. “Awful weird people, don’t you think?” she asks in a stunned monotone.
He shakes his head sadly. “This is what your ex left you for, I’m afraid.”
“Well, speak of the devil,” Samantha says, looking at the game-room door, where the girl with the violet eyes enters wearing a bondage-masked, breast-baring Shadow Lady costume. Shira collides with her into a tight embrace; they kiss through their masks, then lasciviously fondle each other’s breasts not caring who sees them. Squeamish Debbie dashes off with a high-pitched whine.
Akimi says to her, “I thought you’d be coming as Anarchy Angel Stocking.”
The girl purrs, “Not perverted enough.” She winks.
Jennifer sneaks over, tries to pull Shira away, and mock threatens, “Let go of my fujoshi.”
The girl pulls Shira back. “My fujoshi,” she snaps back mock petulantly. She holds her mock possessively from behind, cupping her breasts. All the girls watching giggle helplessly.
Suddenly they hear an explosion in the direction of Bangor. The girls all rush to the big window and thrust open the curtains. Shira says, “The squats.”
Rob says, “That’s where that Chinese newtype blew up the old studio!”
Sparks punches the wall. “Shit!” Charlie turns on the TV with an infrared signal from her fingers.
The Bremeloes erupt in cheers. Sparks asks, “Why are they cheering for gangsters?”Nameless Reporter: Devil’s Night frat-boy smashers are trashing the Bangor squats and making Amanda Currie play with herself on camera!Amanda: They’re proving themselves real good! Go boys go!Nameless Reporter: Sure enough, those idiots are racing headlong into trouble. ♫Amanda: Wait, is that a swarm of gangsters descending on them? Oh no!
Debbie chuckles. “Ever see what they do to ’em?”
“The aftermath, yeah.”
“There you go.”
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[Revision 4 Final, 3/31/13: Heavily edited for Final Revision continuity.]
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