(An ArbyFish comes to type on a computer to the tune of Pirates
of the Carribbean)

Arby: Dum-dum, dum-dah, da-dum-da-dum-da-dum! (hits enter)

*KER-BLAAAAAAAAM!!!!*

Arby(nods proudly): In-deed! (flutters off)

Ah, yes, a bit of work and a few months time brings yet another
section to this series. The work continues.

Thanks for sticking with me on this. As always, suggestions
for improvement are always welcome! Let's hope it goes through
okay...

So, here we go!


-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: S3.txt

Important Note:

This story is only loosely based on the Sailor V manga. Significant
modifications have had to be made in order to comply with the fusion
with the Nuke 'Em 'Till They Glow plotline. Besides, trying to make
an adaptation compliant with many of the DiC dub standards is rather
daunting task, especially for one that happens to like the original.

In short, people that have actually seen and read the Sailor V manga,
which is currently unavailable to me, please offer suggestions.

In the meantime, we've got a fanfic to massacre!!! ^_-

&&&[Cool! A Competent Villain?!]

	On the highest floor of the wrecked BBC Television and Radio
station, a strange glowing ooze dripped over the badly damaged
broadcasting equipment. What screens were not smashed displayed
static. BBC executives lay unconscious on the floor behind toppled
desks.

	A trio conversed in the near-darkness. The shortest one spoke
in a malevolently cheerful feminine voice. "We've done well so far,
and we nearly have the energy we need before we go back."

	"Yesss," one of the other shadows agreed in a low, grating
electric voice.

	"However, as expected, there is a complication," the female
added. "Our enemy, Sailor V, will arrive soon."

	"She's no match for us," the third bragged, his digitally
filtered words dripping with confidence.

	The first one stiffened and a cruel grin came to her lips.
Something red glowed on one of her shoulders. "Oh, she's more than
a match for you, and your 'twin' brother. So, are you going to
idiotically go run in front of her so she can blast you or shall _I_
do it now and save us the embarrassment?"

	"He, er, just likes to see the positive," the second cut in
nervously. "I can see how things could go wrong..."

	"That's right," the third shadow agreed, "but we can plan
better. I promise, Morva!"

	"The Dark Agency should have given me much more support," Morva
sighed, the glow around her dying down. "But until I can earn one of
those 'ite' titles, you're all I have to work with. That's why we set
the traps, possessed the minds of the workers, and dedicated a
portion of our energy allotment to other defenses: so _we_ won't be
the ones turned to dust this time."

	While the other two nodded their assent, the leader paused.
"Proton," she said, "Neutron. I sense a great power approaching. Show
me the lower level."

	Proton and Neutron extended their hands, between which appeared
an image of the entrance. A masked blonde in an abbreviated red,
white, and blue girl's sailor outfit stepped cautiously through the
front door, holding a jewel-studded, crescent-shaped gold boomerang.

	"That's Sailor V," Proton said enthusiastically.

	Morva breathed a long sigh. "Yes, Proton, I know. Maybe now
you'd like to do something useful, like telling me where she is and
what is going to happen next." Morva rolled her eyes. Some of these
youma weren't worth the energy needed to create them.

	"She'll hit our first line of defense in a moment," Neutron
provided, obeying his leader's instructions. "At least a hundred
small mechs will have to be destroyed before she can get to us. Not
to mention they'll have to kill the humans we're controlling."

	"We'll wait here," Morva said. "For every second she's delayed,
we will have gained just that much more energy. At this rate, we'll
be able to report to the Agency in under twenty minutes."

	"Wait," Proton breathed, "who's that?" He pointed to the tan-
skinned young woman that entered behind V. She had bright orange hair
and her outfit was similar to the first girl's, albeit an order more
revealing. She moved without seeming to notice the weight of the very
large, heavy-looking sword strapped to her back.

	Morva put a hand to her mouth, keeping her expression neutral.
"Hmm. She could be a problem."

	"We don't know how powerful she is," Neutron said. "She could
be just another dolled-up human following Sailor V around and trying
to imitate her. Then again, she could be one of the more powerful
Sailor Soldiers we've heard so much about."

	"Yeah," Proton added. "Look at the S on that tiara. Do you
think that stands for Saturn? You remember the rumors about _that_
one, don't you?"

	"The one with enough power to destroy a planet?" Neutron asked.
"If that's who she is, that's _really_ bad news for us. Still, we're
not sure. What do you think we should do, boss?"

	"Certainly, the last thing we need is an unknown factor," the
youma leader said softly. "Proton! Get down there and separate V from
the new girl. Make certain she doesn't get a chance to use whatever
powers she may have. Use everything you feel necessary, then get back
here as quickly as you can."

	"Right-o!" Proton saluted, then vanished in a pulse of energy.
Lightning arced along the floor and wall near where he had stood.

	"As for Sailor V," Morva contunued, turning to Neutron, "let's
go over the plan again."

o_O

	There is something to be said about a pair of superheroines
that barge straight in through the front door of an enemy hideout,
especially when that enemy has had several hours to prepare for their
arrival. Some would say they were exceptionally brave and confident.
Others would call them fools. Then again, a couple of others would
whistle at them, then hoot and holler that they were really hot
chicks, completely ignoring the fact that they were armed and ready
to do some serious damage.

	Sailor S held one hand ready to unsheathe the Crystal Wink
Sword at a moment's notice. Her eyes darted left and right for any
sign of danger. "Did Katrina say where the youma was in the
building?"

	"No," V replied, brandishing her Crescent Boomerang like a
dagger. "All she said was that she was in here somewhere." She
laughed a little. "Well, it's like they say: a villain in the bush
is worth three in the bag." She took a step forward through the
debris.

	One might ask why all land mines in popular fiction have to
involve blinking red lights, a high-pitched whine, and a three
second delay in order to allow the protagonist a chance at escaping
certain death. The only thought going through V's mind in relation
to this a second after taking her fateful stride involved an angry
question as to why these particular explosives had no such convenient
safety features.

	When the ringing in the two girls' ears and bones subsided,
they found themselves sliding down a wall half a dozen metres away
from where they had been walking a few seconds earlier.

	"V!" S coughed urgently though the dust, her feet finding the
floor. "Are you hurt?!"

	"Grrrrr," Sailor V growled as she stood back up, glaring
down at her blackened slippers. "I can understand attacking the BBC,"
she added slowly and darkly, feeling the sting of minor burns on
her legs. "I can actually sort of forgive them for draining London's
energy," then her voice suddenly grew stronger, "but I CAN'T forgive
them for doing that to the Agent of Love and Beauty, Sailor V!!!"

	V dashed forward again, this time leaning her shoulder into
her sprint. "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Mines
blasted out from underneath her feet, the force of the powerful
explosions just barely missing her as she sped by.

	The determined girl ran up the stairs and around the corner,
dodging some falling debris as she did. The detonations stopped a few
seconds before the girl emerged from the dust cloud, into a room full
of strewn photography equipment, where she finally slowed down.
"Yaaaaah...?"

	In a flash of light, S appeared next to her. "Wow! That was
amazing, V! How did you manage to dodge all of those mines?!"

	"Eh, it was nothing," V replied calmly.

	Sailor Stylin's eyes glistened with appreciation. "I don't
think I could've done that. Not even with lots of practice..."

	The blonde waved off the compliment, while inwardly drinking it
up and smiling in spite of herself. "I know, I know."

	"Still, they were all in one line. Don't you think it would
have been easier just to walk around them?"

	V frowned at that. "I, ah..."

	S put a finger to her chin and, without the slightest hint of
malice or pride, added, "Of course, if you could teleport like
_me_..."

	It took Sailor V a few precious seconds to fully mull over
the comment and realize that her friend didn't really mean anything
by it. "Right. If I could teleport like you, things would be a lot
easier for us. Come to think of it, there _is_ a way. I'll have to
check with Artemis--"

	Several clicks and whirring noises attracted their attention.
Suddenly, both girls noticed the dots of red laser sights on and
around them. S and V looked at each other, wary of what was sure to
follow. Their eyes held a conversation that, if they had the time to
sit down over a cup of tea and actually speak it aloud, would end up
sounding something like this:

	"Mina, bullets or lasers or something are about to be fired
off. Do you think we should back off or go on trying to dodge?"

	"Heh. What do you think?"

	"I say we fight our way through."

	"Then that's what we're doing, girlfriend!"

	Of course, what Sailor V's eyes were actually saying was, "You
teleport around the weapon emplacements and take them out from behind
while I draw their fire." However, the net effect was generally the
same.

	The two Sailor Warriors leapt away from each other, just as
a salvo of high-powered pyrotechnics made a sparkly fireball out of
the BBC executive's photograph behind where they had been standing.
In an instant, the two lovely fighters saw the racks of small tubes
from which the rockets had been launched. A distant whirring noise
alerted the girls to the fact that an atomated reloading system
would momentarily send more explosives in their general direction.

	Not one that particularly enjoyed implements of death being
thrown at her, Sailor V focused on the matter at hand and decided to
take measures to quickly end the bombardment. She raised her
boomerang and chucked it toward their attackers, shouting, "Crescent
Boomerang, THRASH!"

	Sailor S mimicked her action, holding out her hand, tossing
her head and crying, "Stylin' Barrette Barrage!" Her hair made a
perfect swirl behind her before she landed.

	What happened is best described as follows: V's boomerang
sliced around in a double spiral to cut out the weapons' supports
while Stylin's tiny magical barrettes burst against the launchers.
The end result was very simplistic and anticlimactic: the racks
fell over, rattling and steaming.

	V caught her boomerang and the duo landed, taking stock of
their situation. They saw only darkness beyond where the missile
emplacements had been.

	"That was easy," V commented.

	S took a breath and nodded. "Yeah..." Then she saw the red
eyes glowing in the darkness and heard the din of many unearthly
yells. She took a step back and her hand went to the hilt of her
sword. "Eeek!"

	A pair of Englishmen with burning red eyes ran out of the
badly-lit corridor, wielding giant wrenches. Something green,
pulsing, and organic hung off the right sides of their faces. Both
were frothing and wore nametags identifying them as members of the
BBC technical staff.

	"Sailor V Punch!" V lunged under her attacker's swing and
delivered a blow to his sternum, knocking the wind out of him.

	With the loud ring of impossibly sharp metal through air,
S cleaved the wrench of her assailant in twain and kicked him
hard in the stomach.

	Both zombified workers groaned loudly and fell to the floor,
clawing toward the two girls like a pair of damaged, but still
functional, androids. Their expressions remained blank, except
for a sort of faint pained and pleading edge to their eyes every
few moments.

	"Serves you right," V said with her hands on her hips,
nudging one of them in the ribs with the toe of her slipper.

	S peered closely at them, sword in hand. Her eyes lit up.
"Uh! Um, V-chan?" She sheathed her weapon.

	"Yeah?"

	"Have you ever run into anyone that liked to possess people
and send them in as human cannon fodder?"

	V blinked. "Yes, a couple of times, why?"

	S indicated at the two men on the floor. "Take a look at them.
I don't think they're youma."

	"You think?" The blonde looked down and pointedly stuck out
her lower lip. She laughed nervously. "Oops. Eh heh..."

	"I think they'll understand," Stylin' said in a bright,
encouraging voice. "But it's kinda fighting dirty. You know, using
innocent people?"

	"Well," V began, "yeah! Of course it's fighting dirty. That's
what they do." She folded her arms proudly.

	"Why can't they just fight fair?" S lamented.

	"Because the Dark Agency could NEVER beat us in a fair fight!"
V put away her boomerang. "Say, you're a pretty good swordsgirl. I'll
bet your dad taught you all about fighting fair, didn't he?"

	"Daddy?" S said. She thought about that. "No, not really."
She reached down and yanked the green protoplasm off a technician's
face. His body instantly relaxed and his breathing became steady.
The goo squelched in her hand before she threw it to the floor,
where it hissed and ate through the carpet before vanishing into a
wisp of white smoke.

	"Ahah!" V stated, holding up a finger when she noted the
effect. "Good work. So THOSE are doing the controlling this time!"

	"Hmm?" S turned to her while she extracted the possessive
agent from the other man's head. "You mean, they haven't used these
before?" The ooze writhed, trying to burn through her glove before
she threw it hard onto the floor and stepped on it.

	"Nope! Never." Then V shrugged. "Eh, it's always something
different. Usually, the only way to free everyone is to dust the
youma."

	"Oh. In that case, I'm glad to be working with someone
experienced!" Stylin' struck a pose, put a hand on her hip, stuck
out her chest, and smiled broadly to help emphasize her mood. "Then
I guess they'll be okay as long as we blast the bad guys. So let's
go get those evil, nasty, unfair, unstylish creeps!"

	"You read my mind!"

	"Only a little..."

	The Agents of Love, Beauty, and Fashion leapt over the fallen
workers and dashed past the broken artillery. They ran up the steps,
little poisoned darts with feathers on the back just barely missing
them. One or two bounced off of the nigh-impenetrable white top of
Stylin's outfit, which was amazing, considering how little of said
top there was. In any case, they made it to the top of another flight
unharmed.

	They weren't exactly surprised when a couple of huge metal
arms came down and grabbed them, pinning their arms to their waists
and dragging them into another room. Both girls were, however, rather
disappointed at their inability to dodge such mechanized traps, since
they had been doing so well... up until that point, anyway.

	"Ugh!" V grimaced when the grip tightened, thankful for once
that she'd missed both lunch and dinner that day. "S! Can you get
free?"

	"Urrgle... I'll try!" In a quick motion, as if she'd done
it a million times before, S popped her shoulder out of place and
started squirming, inching her sword-arm out of confinement. Her
face remained a mask of concentration, which became particularly
strained when several pops and crunches demonstrated the difficulties
she encountered while withdrawing the appendage in question.
Nevertheless, she kept at it. "Ow...ow...ow! Almost there!"

	V winced, and not only at her friend's discomfort. "Ouch.
Watch it, S! Try not to hurt yourself too bad!" Her knowledge of
basic human anatomy flashed through her mind, which indicated, quite
clearly, that people _really_ aren't supposed to bend like that.
"Oooh..."

	Stylin' blanched at another agonizing crunch. "Owwwwwwww! Sure,
V! I'll be okay!" She pounded her unfreed fist against her outer
thigh. "I can take it!" Crunch, pop. "WAAH! I think..."

	A bunch of television studio lights turned on, revealing the
metal arms to be attached to a rather imposing, hydraulically-driven
robot that probably had been for one of the BBC's more expensive
sci-fi television ventures. S and V also saw a set and a stage
consisting of one center podium with a semicircle of smaller
pedestals around it.

	Cameras took in the scene, run by possessed technicians. A
captive audience--this one being a _truly_ captive audience, judging
by the manacles and chains--watched the proceedings; some in horror,
some in morbid curiosity, and many because they were actually hoping
they'd see something entertaining being done at the BBC for once.

	An English woman in her fifties hosted the broadcast. Sailor
S's eyes widened when she recognized her face. "Anne Robinson!"

	"Consider yourselves fortunate to witness the premiere of a
brand new show tonight," Anne said in her typical facetious manner.
"Welcome to the Weakest Link!" The same glowing, oozing mass that
stuck to the workers' faces was also on hers. "Today, our lucky
contestants will include the very famous Sailor V--Say hello to
Britain, Miss V."

	"Urgh--Hi!" Sailor V choked out. She would have made a speech
and struck a pose were it not for rapidly tightening vice around her
waist. Instead, she showed off a pained smile to to the camera. "Nice
to be here!"

	Anne looked over at Sailor S. "Now, you, will you please
introduce yourself to everyone?"

	"I," Stylin' began, "am the Cute and--URGH--FLUFFY Formerly
Oneshot Warrior--"

	"Very nice," Anne cut her off. "Now, let's play: The Weakest
Link!"

	"But you haven't explained the rules yet!" V protested.

	"If you don't know them, too bad," the show's hostess replied,
then looked down at her podium. "Sailor V, who was the youma that--"

	V breathed a little while the robot loosened its grip to allow
her to answer. "Ummm!"

	"Wrong. It was Bauxite." Anne shuffled some cards in front of
her while V's restraints tightened another notch. She turned to S.
"You, what were the two strongest metals available during the the
Silver Millennium era of the Ancient Moon Kingdom?"

	"Bio-Temporal Crystal and Carbon Neutronium," S replied
swiftly, the topic apparently having been the second thing on her
mind. The only part of her arm still trapped by the robot was her
hand, by the wrist. "How did you--"

	"Wrong," Anne stated. "Mythril Silver and Adamantium Steel."

	Sailor S's jaw flipped downward and she started to protest. "No
they weren't--URGHLLE!" The robot's arm closed down a few more
inches. Several in the audience gasped when something in her body
sounded like it broke. "YOW!!!" Then, she recalled the phrasing of
the question, and it made her forget the pain for the moment. "Oh,
that's right, those weren't metals."

	"Miss V, how much pressure can the human spine horizontally
sustain before it loses cohesion and begins to fragment?"

	"Not much more, that's for sure," V choked out.

	"Correct!" The robot arm applied more tension anyway. "Sailor
S! Now I recall your name. From the news report a few weeks ago.
Absolutely smashing the way you pulled V out of that fire, wasn't
it?"

	"Great, huh?" Stylin' replied, her torso at a rather odd angle
and her arm now only trapped by the fingers. "That's right, I'm
Sailor S, and in the name of Fashion--"

	Anne's expression remained the same. "Well, then, Sailor S,
which Sailor Warrior's seifuku is too racy for prime time English
television?"

	Stylin' blushed deeply while she looked down at her rather
skimpy outfit and yanked her fingers free. "Ah, Sailor Orion?"
She popped her shoulder back into place and flexed a little to
get the feeling back into her limb.

	"Wrong!" the possessed leader of the game show replied.

	Sailors S and V suddenly took notice of the background music,
which went through a quick resolution before going silent.

	"The answer was," Anne continued, "Sailor S! Congratulations,
you are the weakest link!"

	"Great!" S cried, grappling for the Crystal Wink Sword. "What
do I win?" She stopped and batted her eyelashes hopefully.

	"You would normally take the 'Walk of Shame,' but since we've
had a change in management today, you will take the perilous,
agonizing 'Descent Into Hades!'"

	"What?! That's a terrible prize!" A big pit full of red and
green flames opened directly under Stylin's dangling feet.

	"Indeed." Anne Robinson smiled one of those thin-lipped,
professional smiles often given by business managers to one's they're
about to dismiss. "Goodbye."

	The robot lifted S high into the air and, without so much as a
dramatic pause, threw her downwards into the pit. Stylin' screamed
loudly while she descended what sounded like several hundred feet,
and went silent. A wafting plume of fire rose from the hole a second
later.

	"S!" V shouted urgently.

	"That was easy," said a digitally filtered voice from the
shadows. "Your new friend wasn't much to worry about, was she?"

	"Oooh, you are SO gonna get it for that." V added, staring
down the hole. "S! Can you hear me?!" There was no response. "Wait,
who's there?" She looked over at the glowing eyes in the darkness at
the edge of the studio.

	"Guess."

	"Prince Charles?"

	The clank from the all-concealing obscurity indicated that the
speaker had just fallen down, probably right onto his face. "Huh?!
No! I'm Proton, come from the Dark Agency to finish you off."

	"Well," V huffed, "at least I was close." She tilted her head.
"And don't be so rude! At least show yourself."

	"I'll take that as a last request. Fine!"

	Anne Robinson rolled her eyes and leaned against the podium
while Proton stepped into the spotlight.

	Sailor V gagged. "Is THAT what you look like?!"

	Whether it was the red leather bellbottom trousers with
rhinestone-inlaid lightning zigzags or the Leprechaun face with
pointed ears and pinwheels, V could tell that this particular youma
had some serious fashion issues. "I've seen some stupid outfits
before, guy, but _YOU_ give the pie. Just be glad Sailor S ain't
here. She'd get paleolithic on your lousy donkey, you creep!"

	"Er, what?" Proton winced. It took a full eight seconds for
him to realize that he'd just been insulted. Putting his hands on
his hips, he screamed at her, "I-I WAS going to let you go free
to face me and the others at the top of the building, but for what
you just said--!!!" He motioned toward the robot, which clamped the
other hand around Sailor V and made to finish her off.

	Oddly enough, V barely felt the increase in pressure before
she heard the twanging sound of steel being cleaved apart behind
her. A harsh explosion signaled the end to the machine's hydraulic
system and the metal fingers dropped away from her. The second
she got loose, she wasted no time in pointing her index finger at
Proton and shouting, "CRESCENT BEAM, SMASH!!!"

	"AARGH!!!" Proton cried as the laser tore into his side while
he struggled to get out of the way.

	Sailor Stylin' dashed out from behind the busted 'bot, put
away her sword, and held out her hands, announcing her attack.
"Stylin' Tough n' Puffy Bow-Ribbons!" She hurled glowing pink ribbons
at Proton until he was entangled in a cocoon-like shell.

	"Nothing like a little short-range teleportation to stop a
fall. NOW you're all gonna listen to my speech, got it?!" S held a
fist to her mouth, cleared her throat, then struck a cutesy pose. "I
am the Cute and Fluffy Formerly Oneshot Warrior for Love, Justice,
Fashion, and Makeovers. I am Sailor Stylin'!" She went through
another series of poses. "You, you evil, nasty fashion-reject, have
polluted the minds of Great Britain's television viewers, making a
bad overall appearance! Worst of all, your plans to drain energy are
out of date. On behalf of teen models AND stylish game show hosts
everywhere, I will punish you!" She finished off with yet another
ultra-flexible pose and smiled for the camera.

	Sailor V came out from behind the orange-haired girl and made
a few poses of her own. "And the Agent of Love and Beauty, I am
Sailor V! Glad to see you're okay, S."

	S giggled to herself. "Same here, V-chan!"

	"Ahah!" During the speeches, Proton had managed to work himself
free of the ribbons, seemingly unimpeded by his small wound. Breaking
away the last few strips, he struggled to his feet and pulled out
what looked like a large pair of tuning forks. Between them, slowly
rising lines of sparks buzzed, like those from an early Frankenstein
movie. "POSITIVE CHARGE!" He jammed one of the implements into a
nearby wall.

	Electrical sparks burst along the wall, continuing upwards
along the ceiling and spreading across the floor. In an instant,
it divided Sailor V from Sailor S. Then, Proton hurled the other
fork across the room, imbedding it into the opposite wall. "NEGATIVE
CHARGE!"

	"YAAAAAH!!!" A strong burst of lightning flung S and V several
meters away from each other. V skidded into a low crouch while S
fell flat onto her back, both with black singe marks on the front of
their outfits.

	"Lightning," S muttered, struggling to move her stunned limbs.
"Why does it always have to be lightning?! So THAT's why Daddy always
killed the youma before making a speech..."

	V whipped out her compact, allowing it to spin in the air for
a heartbeat before snatching it again. "Crescent Boomerang, THRASH!"

	In a flash, the gold boomerang parted the distance between
V and Proton. The medium-height youma leprechaun raised a sparking
arm, which appeared to influence the metal's arc by several degrees,
the net result being that it missed him by at least several inches.
The boomerang sped back to Sailor V's hand.

	Proton looked smugly at V. "Hah! That boomerang's not real
gold, you know!"

	"CRESCENT SLENDER BEAM!!!" A tight burst of yellow energy
shot from V's finger directly past Proton's ear. He looked back to
see it neatly slice the goo off of Anne Robinson's face and destroy
the support for an overhead microphone assembly. Anne slumped over
her podium and the microphone fell down to conk Proton on the noggin.
He collapsed. The audience cheered.

	"Way to go, Sailor V!"
	"You showed 'em, V!"
	"You're the BEST, V!"

	Sailor V paused to take a well-earned bow.

	"Take it off, baby!"

	A few of her fans violently silenced the cad before V could
take notice.

	S fought to shake off the numbness all over her body and took
out her sword, stalking towards the prone monster. Then she paused,
glancing at the ceiling. "V! I can feel something upstairs." She
gasped. "That must be where the youma's been gathering energy! A
machine or something."

	The masked vigilante nodded. "Yeah, they do that sometimes."
She took another look at the youma. "Wait a second. Katrina said
the youma we're looking for is a 'she.'"

	"Maybe she was mistaken," S replied. "Or there's another one
to deal with upstairs. Oh! The energy upstairs feels like it's
slowing down, like they've almost got all of it they need."

	"You can sense that?" V asked, scratching her head. After a
moment, she decided to let the assertion slide. "Can you teleport
up there and stop it?"

	S looked upward, pursing her lips in concentration. "Mmmm!
No can do." She looked at the other sailor-suited warrior. "I'm
sorry, V. I don't know how, but they're blocking me. If I had a
few minutes more, I might be able to find a way around it--"

	"Ah. So, there's not enough time for that, right?"

	S shook her head. "No, not really. I mean, if they're taking
too much from London's viewers, people could start dying if we don't
destroy what they're using. And I mean soon."

	"So, we'll split up. You finish off the youma, and do what you
can for the people being controlled by it. I'll stop whatever it's
got upstairs."

	"Right!"

	"Don't take too long, ya hear!" V said, brushing back a lock
of blonde hair. "Eh, I'm sure I'll have it all wrapped up by the time
you catch up anyway." She noticed the questioning looks of the
audience. "Everyone, stay where you are! The lower floors are mined,
but try to stay calm. We'll get these monsters as soon as we can!"
She struck one of her tried and true poses, waved goodbye to
everyone, and ran to the stairs to continue her ascent.

	"Oh, what a charming gel," a lady in the crowd commented.
	"Truly divine, wouldn't you say?" her husband added.
	"Simply mah'vellous!"

	Sailor S turned back toward Proton. "Okay, then." She lifted
the Crystal Wink Sword. "Your powers are gonna be mine!" She rushed
at him with a loud battle cry and slashed downward at the youma's
neck. "YAAAAAH!"

	Proton's eyes shot open and he grinned at her. Sparks eminated
from his body, creating a magnetic field strong enough to slow down
and halt Stylin's blade.

	"Wha--?!" S cried while the same force wrenched her sword
around, pulling her with it at several different angles before it
slipped from her grasp, stopped a few feet away, and swung back at
her. "Oh no! I _knew_ I shouldn't have put so much glove polish on
earlier." On the bright side, she added silently to herself, her
whole outfit looked positively smart n' stylin' tonight.

	"Silly sailor," the electric leprechaun giggled. "Swords are
for hearts!"

	S backed away from the blade and, with the air of a rookie
hostage negotiator who hadn't yet realized that the ammunition was
real this time, protested, "That's not how the quote goes!"

	"It is now!"

	The youma made an emphatic gesture at the airborne sword, which
plunged itself at an angle deep through Stylin's unprotected
midsection and made a clean cut all the way through her torso, where
the shining tip of the blade exited where her shoulder met her neck.

	The audience winced sympathetically.

	"Oooh..."
	"That's got to hurt."
	"That's right, you lose the bet. Pay up."
	"BLOODY 'ell. Another seventy-five pounds lost on the S girl!"

	In her short life, Sailor Stylin' had never had time to think
about what it was like to die. The sensation of cold steel passing
though her was novel, to say the least. Indeed, she could not call
it pain, because the minor scratches and flesh wounds she had
previously endured were of a magnitude far too small to truly compare
with it. Her pain intensified as the seconds dragged on. To make
things worse, she honestly had no idea what to do about it.

	Despite her tan, the girl turned white with shock. Silently
agape, she stumbled backward, not even having a chance to fall down
before Proton leapt to his feet, brandished a new set of metal forks
and threw one at her. "POSITIVE CHARGE!" The deep, digitized echo of
his voice continued even as he threw the second. "NEGATIVE CHARGE!!!"

	The first caught S in the upper shoulder at one end of the
sword, and the other landed at her stomach near the hilt. Lightning
shot through her, then made a show of exploding, sending a blastwave
throughout the room. As an additional aftershock, long, thick
tendrils of electricity burned through the air around the girl.

	Then darkness engulfed her.

---

	"Yow!" V yelped while she continued up the steps. To her, it
felt as if something had just stabbed her at the base of her neck.
"What was that?!" She looked around and held the afflicted area, but
could find nothing amiss. "Weird."

	The sharp tingling gradually faded away while V gritted her
teeth and sprinted onward.
 
---

	The former oneshot warrior sailed backward in a slow parabolic
curve, tears trailing from her tightly-closed eyes. Then she fell,
swooning soundlessly to the floor, where she lay motionless.

	Proton folded his arms and gazed for a minute at his fallen
enemy. "Humans are such fragile things."

	The spectators 'awwed,' generally looking either hard-faced,
distraught, or teary-eyed. Even if a couple of them didn't
particulary like the girl quite as much as V for various reasons,
neither did they really wish to see her in that condition, especially
since she had come to try and protect them in the first place.

	"Now, what did Morva say to check?" Proton mused. "Breathing?"
He saw that the girl's chest was neither rising, nor falling. Neither
did he feel any air coming from her mouth or nose when he reached
down to check. "Good. Heart rate?" He felt her neck and waited for
several seconds. "Hah! No pulse, and she hasn't moved a muscle." He
chuckled evilly. "Now all that's left is to bring back her head."
Then he frowned. "Yeech. I hate severed heads! Oh, I'm sure Morva
won't mind..."

	The victorious youma crossed his arms, and vanished.

	Everyone in the stands looked at each other.

	"Oh terrific, now what are we supposed to do?!"
	"Wait for another rescue?"
	"Time for tea?"
	"No, how about we try calling for Green Lantern?"
	"Oh, he hasn't shown up for ages. Probably dropped his power
ring down a sink or some such nonsense."

-_-;;;

	Kyle Rayner had just barely grasped his ring by the tips of
his fingers when a sneeze caused him to drop it once again. It
clattered even further down the drain. "D'OH!"

-_-;;;

	In the darkness on the top floor, Morva and Neutron looked up
at Proton when he appeared.

	"Did you separate them?" Morva asked.

	"I had to use some clever moves," the leprechaun replied, "but
I managed. The second one's name was Sailor S. She sure was something
to reckon with. She WAS a very good fighter. I got her, Morva! I got
her!"

	"You killed V's new companion? Are you absolutely certain?"

	"I ran her through with her own sword, then shocked her with
a point-blank, maximum-power double charge. She didn't move or
breathe, and she had no pulse! Does that sound like a dead enough
human for ya?"

	Neutron whistled. "Yeah, that sounds pretty dead to me."

	"Her head, Proton. Did you bring her head?"

	"Oh, Morva, you know I hate chopping off heads! I'm allergic
to the sight of blood. She didn't really bleed, either." At the deep
red glow from his leader's shoulders, Proton added, "But she was
fried, that's why! Smoking and everything. Deader than dead. Extra
crispy. I promise!"

	"For your sake, I hope you're right," Morva muttered darkly.
With a swish, she turned around. "Now, the ambush. Neither Sailor V
nor the energy will escape us this time."

---

	Sailor V ran up what she hoped was the last flight of stairs.
Upon reaching the top, she noted to herself that someone had
redecorated the seventh floor of the BBC building with a lot of
granite, dust, and spiderwebs. It looked like one of those fake
Egyptian tombs with a bunch of randomly painted hieroglyphics that
were meant to seem like a prophecy of doom to all who enter, but
really read, "Quiet please, recording in progress, lavatories to
your left, and stairways ahead and back."

	Navigating by the faint torchlight and staying in a balanced
stance afforded to her by her special "I Saw it On Kung Fu Theater
Once" martial arts pseudo-training, the Agent of Love and Justice
advanced forward.

	Barely even a tenth of the way through the corridor, the
grinding of stone against stone and the sinking of a floor tile
alerted her to the triggering of a trap.

	Sailor V stepped aside, just as an enormous boot on a very
long steel pole swept past her in a rush of air. Then, a stone
slid away in the wall next to her. A swift duck and roll maneuver
enabled her to escape a wooden pole that came out and attempted to
tape a "Kick Me" sign to her back.

	V raised an eyebrow at the choice of traps, then shrugged
and proceeded. Yet another tile sunk into the floor and the walls
beside her sprang open. She heard the thunk of a large device
falling into place, and fell flat on the floor, just in time to
avoid getting tickled to death by several vibrating rows of chicken
feathers.

	The girl giggled to herself and shook her head. She got back
up and ran confidently forward, ignoring the other traps that missed
her on the way, which included swinging rubber chickens, a grey hair
dye bomb, several buckets of water, and a couple of flaming bags of
doggy-doo.

	Finally, she hit a tile that felt different from the others.
This one also included side panels that slid away, but had a low
rumbling along with it and included, for no extra pay, a general
sense of doom.

	V sidestepped a flurry of obviously poisoned darts, jumped
over a large ballista arrow, and somersaulted forward just in time
to keep from being crushed by a multi-ton slab of rock that, up until
a few moments ago, had been the ceiling.

	On the side of the slab, a note read, "Laugh THIS one off!"

	The blonde considered doing just that, but then decided against
it, remembering that time was of the essence, and that she had a job
to do. She discovered yet another set of stairs to climb and, with
a long sigh, continued her rapid ascent. She encountered no further
resistance.

	Halfway up, something occurred to her. "Lynne's sure taking a
while." V whispered to herself. She pulled out a small, pink,
calculator-like communicator and hit the transmit button. "S! Are
you finished with that youma yet?" The tiny circular screen filled
with static. "S?" More static. "S?!"

---

	"She's almost here," Morva announced.

	"I see her!" Neutron hissed, peering through the door leading
to the stair well.

	"Everyone to their task," Morva whispered. "If one of us doesn't
damage her, the other two will."

---

	Sailor V turned her attention back to the mission. She told
herself that it was just a jammed signal--S was fine. She would
stop the energy drain, and then go back for her friend. Then again,
she thought, maybe the youma had been too strong for her, even with
the sword. With every passing step, the dilemma between going back
and possibly saving Lynne or going forward and definitely saving a
city full of strangers, gradually shifted in favor of her friend.
"I shouldn't have left her alone."

	Just as she started to turn around, a red glow in the shadows
caught her attention. Changing her position in the unpredictable
manner that she did probably saved her life, since if she had been
standing head on, she would not have managed to leap upwards and
rotate while arching her back just perfectly to avoid anything more
than a burn in the back of her sailor blouse from the powerful laser
beam that had obviously been intended for her heart. She landed
in a corner while another shot sped by her.

	"POSITIVE CHARGE!" a voice rang out from the darkness while
a silver fork shot past V's shoulder, pinning an edge of her outfit's
fabric to the wall. "NEGATIVE CHARGE!"

	With a gasp, V recognized the voice from the youma she and S
had fought earlier. She quickly aimed a finger in the direction of
her attackers. "CRESCENT BEAM, SMASH!"

	In that instant, a male cyborg with lots of wires and metal
sticking out of him jumped into the light. He braced himself against
the yellow beam and shouted, "GROUNDING DEFLECTOR!"

	The energy of V's blast slammed up against a rippling barrier
a centimeter away from the cyborg's body, then slipped down through
his armor plating in the form of yellow sparks and put a big pock
mark through the floor.

	With a slight tug, V ripped free of the metal fork and rolled
away from the lightning burst that went across the floor. She whipped
out her boomerang and threw it. "CRESCENT BOOMERANG, THRASH!!!"

	Proton stepped forward and waved off the device. It imbedded
itself into the ceiling and refused to move after that. "Hah!"

	"Proton, Neutron," a deep female voice commanded. "Realign!"

	V leapt to her feet. "Three against one, huh?" she asked with
her hands on her hips. "In the name of Venus--"

	The red glow appeared once more. V barely had the chance to
jump and snatch her boomerang before the lasers went off. Again,
they seemed aimed at her heart, but due to her movements, it caught
her in the calf instead.

	The blonde hissed at the deep burn. She barely managed to stay
upright when she landed. The gravity of her situation yet to set in,
she popped open her compact and used the mirror to deflect the
following shot toward Proton, tearing a hole through his shoulder.

	The leprechaun yelled in agony.

	"Keep up the attack!" the remaining voice from the shadows
shouted.

	V used the distraction to withdraw, limping--nearly rolling--
down a single flight of stairs. Down on the floor below, she strained
to catch her breath. "Since when," she panted, "could they ambush me
so bad?"

	The dreaded red glow shone from above.

	Sailor V only had time to look up and curse under her breath
before both laser beams caught her full in the chest.

---

	Philosophers have debated for ages whether or not Fate plays
games with our lives. Once it had been established that She does,
speculation began as to precisely what kind of games She favors.
Many supposed that it was a simple game of chess, and perhaps a
long time ago, that's what it was.

	During rosier times, it was thought that She played something
akin to checkers or Candyland. When She got bored of those, things
like Dungeons and Dragons held her attention for a while. In these
enlightened times, though, She does not bother with such slow,
inconvenient forms of entertainment. Now, She wants some action.

	And so it was that Fate grumbled to Herself, dug through Her
pockets, gazed forlornly at the screen, and plunked in another
sixpence.

---

	Sailor Stylin' remained motionless on her back in the badly-
damaged test studio, her sword still stuck through her body at a
weird angle. To the captive observers, she looked very, inescapably,
and completely, dead.

	However, there were a few odd details that they could not
quite figure out. The lack of blood, for example. By all accounts,
she should have been lying in a pool of it by now. Instead, only
a very slight drip of a glowing, light-blue fluid seeped out of her
wounds. Moreover, the light tan color returned to her skin.

	Brushing off the rather unstylish deceased look she had worn
for the past few minutes, S took a breath and opened her eyes, then
closed them again when an attempt to sit up was thwarted by the sword
in her torso. "Ow! Oww! Owwwww!" Gingerly, and very carefully, she
lifted a hand and took hold of an exposed part of the blade at her
stomach. Inch by inch, she slipped it out and let it drop to the
floor.

	"Aaah. Oww! That's not much better." Stylin' reclined, closed
her eyes again, and crossed her arms over her broken flesh. In a
glistening light, her outfit shifted to the greenish organic one
she'd acquired in her last life-and-death struggle. Her injuries
quickly vanished, not leaving so much as a scar or blemish behind.
"Hey," she whispered, rubbing where the blade had gone in and looking
at her fingers. "Why am I alive?"

	Cutting off that thought, she felt several sudden stabs in the
back of her mind, along with what could be described as a sharp
burning senation. She recalled that, in her father, that would have
meant that his core being was getting seriously injured. A small
communicator, shaped like a pink pocket calculator and tucked at her
side under her upper outfit buzzed to life. "S!" Sailor V's voice
barely came in through heavy static. "Are you there?!"

	The girl's eyes widened when she heard the underlying physical
pain in her friend's voice. "Oh no!" An image of V getting ganged up
on by a horde of youma flashed through her mind. She snatched her
sword and literally leapt to her feet, instantly assuming a far more
tensed, focused combat stance than she had ever used before. She
tapped the inconspicuous communications device and said, "V! I'm on
my way!"

	Sailor Stylin' didn't even bother to strike a pose before she
vanished in a soft glow.

O_O

	At a major metropolitan airport just outside the borders of
Wyoming, a fluffy white seal sat on a padded plastic seat and stared
up at a television set, which for some reason was showing the latest
BBC broadcast of "The Weakest Link."

	"Oh dear." The seal slumped when he saw the action take place,
slinking out of his seat and onto the floor on top of a bunch of
rather negative newspaper articles.

	"It's so depressing," the seal moaned to anyone who cared to
listen. A few nearby shuffled their newspapers and did their best to
ignore him.

^_^;;;

	"S, I'm pinned down on the next to last floor," Sailor V
growled into her communicator, which still gave nothing back save
for a bunch of useless static. "Where are you!?"

	Adrenalin is a very powerful chemical. Even in those without
any sort of magical powers, it can allow most individuals to perform
seemingly superhuman acts, at least for a short period of time. Now,
in the bodies of those actually possessing superhuman abilities, it
can sustain life and allow one to continue fighting, even for several
minutes after a mortal blow has been scored.

	V lost her mask somewhere along the way. She had spent the last
couple of minutes dodging lasers and trying what felt like a few
last-ditch efforts to return fire. This wasn't the first time she'd
had to come to grips with her own mortality, but this was most
assuredly the prime experience of having such an obviously fatal
injury.

	The fact that she hadn't managed to bring down a single one of
her enemies didn't help very much at all. Taking temporary refuge
behind a thick metal cabinet, she clicked her communicator again. "S!
On second thought, forget about me! Get out of here! Save yourself!"

	Proton must have heard her, since he let out a low, malevolent
chuckle. "Sailor S?! Don't make me laugh. I left her dead back on
the fourth floor!"

	V took a shocked breath and froze. "You're lying!" she shouted
back. "She's tougher than that!" She winced from the sensation just
now seeping in from her cauterized wound.

	Proton went on to describe what he did, embellishing some
parts here and there. For example, he added the head retrieval and
a few more unrealistically gory details.

	V wedged her eyes shut and slid to the floor, her back to the
cabinet. Tears trickled down her cheeks from a combination of the
shock and the pain. "No. It can't be." Her voice dropped off while
she, perhaps unwisely, used the last bit of her strength to avoid
giving the enemy the satisfaction of hearing her sobs.

	In the reflection of the window in front of her, V saw all
three of the youma that had been after her. There was the electric
leprechaun called Proton, the cyborg that she had heard called
Neutron, and then there was the one the others had referred to as
Morva. This one was unmistakibly female and had pale skin with a
black vinyl bodysuit and fangs. Apparently the leader, she had two
large growths on her shoulders that had been used to fire off the
red lasers.

	Just as Sailor V felt her senses start to slip away, the
second most welcome voice she'd ever heard in her life rang out
in this most forsaken section of the broadcasting headquarters.

	"GET AWAY FROM MINA!!!"

---

	Two thoughts went through Sailor Stylin's mind as she leapt
into action. One was a flurry of emotion and the determination that
she had to save Mina, her dearly beloved friend and partner. The
other one appeared, unbidden, when she saw what condition Sailor
V was actually in. That thought was, simply put, <Berserker Mode
Engaged.>

	Not caring, for once in her life, how she looked or how she
sounded, the second-generation Knight in Shining Armor hacked into
the cyborg with a flurry of powerful slashes. Sparks flew while the
armor gave way. She wielded the large sword as if it weighed nothing.

	Neutron--stunned and badly wounded, but still alive--grappled
at her sword arm in an effort to slow the assault.

	S snatched the youma's appendage and, staring directly into
his eyes, twisted it backwards until it snapped like a dry twig.
With the same hand, she lunged ahead and crushed his neck. Slime and
ichor went in every direction while the youma screeched and crumbled
into dust between the warrior's fingers.

	With a cold, calculating glint in her eyes, the girl leapt to
the side and delivered a precisely-placed roundhouse kick to Proton's
ribcage. It sent him crashing through a pair of dividing walls until
slamming him up against a concrete support pillar. The pillar got
knocked precisely three feet backwards before the remaining force
caused the support to crumble into its component cement particles and
twisted steel bars.

	Several tons of debris fell onto Proton from part of the
floor above. Nearly crushed, he squirmed out of the rubble, only
to see Stylin' hurl her weapon directly at him.

	With the Crystal Wink Sword imbedded to the hilt in Proton's
forehead, he, too, crumbled into dust.

	Two of Morva's red laser beams burned into the side of Stylin's
skintight top. Seemingly unaffected, the formerly oneshot warrior
turned toward her, effortlessly blurred out of the way of another
shot, and swung her arm sideways.

	The chop landed at Morva's side, obviously breaking her arm,
but the additional crunches indicated that some ribs had gone as
well. S followed up with another series of strikes, each aimed at
vital areas.

	The leader of the former trio stumbled backwards, barely
managing to shield her face and chest from the girl's relentless
assault while powering up another pair of blasts.

	A concussive blow to Morva's clavicle came close to smashing
one of her laser cannons and sent her reeling into the stairs. She
showed definite signs of damage, shock, and fatigue. She started to
scramble upward to make it away from her assailant, but S released a
tangle of ribbons, catching her by the legs and starting to drag her
backwards.

	"AAAAH!" Her face a mask of complete and utter terror, the
youma aimed both her lasers at Stylin's head and fired. When the
ribbons entangling her legs went slack, she apparently decided that
enough was enough, and she was getting her hindquarters out of there.
Up the steps she flew, away and out of sight.

	"GWAAAH!" S cried, clutching at her forehad. "Ow...aaah, owww!"
She fell to her knees while her bisected tiara clattered to the
floor. Snapping out of the strange trance she had somehow gone into,
she looked around frantically. "Wait... Mina!" She stood and took
another breath. "Mina, what happened?"

	The warrior found her friend a moment later. Kneeling beside
her and cradling the blonde's head in her lap, S struggled to think
of how she could help. "Mina..."

	V didn't open her eyes. "S," she whispered weakly, "I'm hurt
bad."

	"I'll find a doctor! I'll get help!"

	"Please, don't leave. I can't recover from this--I'm fading
fast."

	"No... I shouldn't have left you!"

	"Heh. I was thinking the same thing. But you're stronger than
I thought."

	S looked around frantically, fighting to recall something--
ANYTHING that could work. She shifted into her plantlike outfit
and attempted to use her acquired powers on V, but it was of no
use. "It doesn't work! It only heals _me_."

	V's body started to relax. "Maybe you'll be able to defeat
the Dark Agency. Say goodbye to Artemis for me."

	"It needs something else," Stylin' whispered to herself.
A pair of small energy surges behind her caught her attention.
Recognizing it as a type she could absorb, she reached out with
great concentration.

	A pair of small crystals rose from the ashes of the two
slain youma and floated into Lynne's grasp, where they disappeared.
She wedged her eyes shut while she battled to adapt the residual
powers to something she could use.

	"I think I got it," S said in a distant voice. "Sorry, Mina,
but there's no time to make it stylish." She held her hands on each
of Sailor V's shoulders, and lifted her gaze upwards. She took a
deep breath and said, "Positive charge." Her right hand started
to glow softly. "Negative charge." Light spread across both
girls and a couple of sparks zapped around them. "Grounding
deflector." The sparks subsided.

	"Full-On Stylin' Theraputic Healing Power Combine: Life Share!"

	A strong wind came out of nowhere and swirled around them
while the two levitated a small distance off the floor.

	"Just a little more," S whispered softly. "We're gonna be
okay."

	A little while later, Mina opened her eyes and gave an
exhausted smile, which Lynne returned, both looking quite relieved.

	Then they fell flat on their backs.

	"Hmm." S pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling. "Are we
both dead now? It's so hard to tell."

	"Hoo-yeah, girl," V breathed, glad to feel her heartbeat again,
"we're dead."

	"Well... At least now I know."

	"That last youma escaped, by the way," S added after a minute.

	"Eh. I don't care," V replied. "So long as you're okay."

	"The same here. Anyway, we fought a good fight, didn't we?"

	"Sure!"

	S picked something out of the dust and held it up. "Hmm?
V-chan! Here's your mask."

	"Thanks!"

^_^

	Upstairs, Morva rushed toward the energy collection spheres
that had been set up to gather the lifeforce of London's television
viewers. If all had gone well, it would be just about done.

	The battered youma leader limped to the case where the
spheres were being held and pulled aside the wooden panel concealing
them. The solid blue glow permeating each ball confirmed her
hypothesis.

	"I lost two henchmen," Morva whispered while she grasped one
of the spheres and prepared to teleport back to the Dark Agency
headquarters, "but more than enough energy to make up for them. And
next time, I'll be ready for that new girl."

	Suddenly, a thick, heavy plexiglass shield flew into the case,
shattering half of the thin globes, releasing their energy back to
their original owners.

	"Stop!" a refined Englishwoman's voice cried. "In the name of
the BMBP!"

	"The BMBP?" Morva shrieked, running a hand down her face in
frustration. "Not... THE BRITISH MOTOR BOAT POLICE?!" The youma
turned and saw the image that many of the Dark Agency's lackeys had
come to dread: an English SWAT team consisting of the best-dressed
and best-trained collection of London's finest.

	Aside from Sailor V, Morva recalled, they had been thus far the
only ones to have had a near perfect victory rate against the Dark
Agency. In general, they didn't kill youma. What they did was much
worse: they attempted to capture and reform them. Most escaped, but
a few had never been heard from again.

	"The same!" Katrina replied in an enthusiastic tone. She
still had on her dress uniform, but also wore a very stylish helmet,
a designer flak vest, and a truncheon that looked like it could
easily give a bludgeoning on par with one applied by Akane Tendo or
Naru Narusegawa.

	Katrina was flanked by about a dozen other men and women that
were dressed almost alike, and also carried large plexiglass riot
shields.

	The roar of a helicoptor's engine from the roof informed Morva
as to how the group had arrived. Why they were called Motor Boat
Police and had as many resources as they did were a mystery to the
prospective youma leader.

	As Morva saw it, she had two options. One, she could stay and
try to get revenge for the lost energy, or two, she could cut her
losses and get out with what was still a sizeable quantity.

	"I'd love to stay and chat," Morva said while she grabbed one
of the unbroken energy spheres. "But I've got better things to do."
The last sentence she said while marginally transparent. Then she
vanished entirely, along with the intact globes.

	"Oh, bugger it."  Katrina frowned and tapped her shoe against
the floor. "I do so hate it when they get away." She turned toward
the rest of her team. "I say, did you manage to disarm that last
bomb she had set to go off once she got away?"

	One of the men in the group held up a device with several
cylinders linked by wires with a timer on it. The timer beeped, but
since all the wires had been disconnected, nothing happened. "Got
it right here. No worries."

	Katrina clapped her hands together. "Oh, bravo! Jolly good.
Now let's go check on the girls. I certainly hope they're all right."

---

	The BMBP and the Sailor Team met up one floor down. Both
S and V were obviously exhausted, so they accepted their praise
and commendations mostly with smiles and nods while they struggled
to support each other on the way back downstairs.

	Another police group managed to sweep out the traps and
mines from the lower floors, and when the Sailors passed by the
live television audience, they were greeted by cheers and applause.

	Stylin' even managed to get an autograph from a rather
embarrassed and very apologetic Anne Robinson.

	Normally, Sailor V preferred to get away before attracting any
unnecessary public attention, but in this case, both she and S were
too worn out to care.

	Realizing the unique problems of keeping a secret identity in
any kind of detective work, Katrina obtained permission to take the
girls home. She learned their addresses, but in return, she gave
them hers.

	"Tomorrow's my day off," Katrina explained. "If you like, you
two could come by and knock me up in the morning."

	With raised eyebrows, S and V looked at each other, then stared
back at Katrina.

	"Umm," V began.

	"Err," S continued that thought.

	"Well..."

	"Knocking you up in the morning?" Stylin' rubbed her bare
forehead. "Is that the custom here?"

	"Oh, yes. Quite."

	Neither party knew exactly what the misunderstanding was about,
but it eventually got cleared up. Really, it did.

&&&[End Chapter 3.]


And now, it's time for.................................

SAILOR STYLIN'S TIP FOR THE DAY!!! Yaaaay! *Cheers*Twitch*Twitch*

(Scene of Sailors S and V charging into the battle zone)

"Today, we learned how important it is to plan things out."

(Scene of Morva lecturing her lackies on the coming fight)

"Some people just try too hard, though."

(Scene of Proton, the badly-dressed electric leprechaun, stepping
out of the shadows)

"Even though we might mean well, the wrong outfit could spell
disaster."

(Scene of S, screaming in a berserk rage and tearing through the
bad guys with her bare hands)

"And remember, there's always someone who might not agree with
you, so try to listen to others' opinions."

(Scene of Katrina with her hands on her hips, and the BMBP
ready to take Morva down)

"When in doubt, go with the traditional look. It's always better
to have something timeless than to go after the wrong fad."

(Scene of a white seal on a nonstop flight to London, cargo class,
groaning at the little baggage tag on his flipper)

"More than anything, dress for the occasion. You'll get it right,
trust me!"

(Scene of Stylin' and Venus posing together)

"And that's my tip for the day. Tee-hee!"

(Ending credits, to the music of "Fly me to the 'Shroom," sung by
Mister R.B. Fish, in a cockney accent, while his seal-like silhouette
rotates over a pool of rippling swamp water.)

Big thanks go out to:

Larry Fontenot, who helped with the concept on this one a great
deal, while providing useful prereading and such. Not to mention
the space in the Lost Library.

Joseph Fenton, for his review of this chapter.

Jason Hanks, for sticking with me on this project.

And everyone that participated in the Sailor Stylin' poll on the
Florestica website! I was initially only going to have the villain
be some stupid, dinky thing that just brawled until they killed it,
but all in all, I think the current one is a nice improvement over
that idea. It was as competent as I could make them if they were
still to lose.

The results, which were posted on the website, were:

Question #1: On a scale of intelligence, from 1 to 10, what do you want?

The Winner: Answer #1�A competent villain with plans, traps, minions,
and, most importantly, a shot at winning. This was the most popular
vote by far, at 32%. Second place goes to answer #2, at 18%.

Question #2: What would you prefer for her strength and combat skill?

The Winner: Answer #5�She's an even match for Sailor V�at 21%.
Second place is shared by answers #1, #3, and #4, at 18% each.

It was available on the website for such a long time, but here they
are, posted. Thanks so much to the ones who gave their input! ^_^

...

By the way, "Knock me up in the morning," is the eqivalent of "Come
by and say hello sometime," if stand up comics that I heard eight
years ago are to be believed. Man, I sure know how to pick my source
material. ^_^;;;


Now, for the next one, I have a few questions:

1. What kind of evil things would you like to see invade the
headquarters of the British Motor Boat Police?

A: Giant robots!
B: Undead things like vampires and zombies!
C: Ninjas, ninjas, ninjas!
D: Kaito Ace!
E: All of the above! And throw in some of Brian Randall's Reavers!

2. And you STILL want to have S and V win?!

A: Yes! Of course!!!
B: Nah, let 'em get beat this time.

3. Want some WAFF beforehand?

A: Eh, sure. It's good for the soul.
B: Nah, go straight to the action.

That's all I need to know, and then I can go about writing it up.

Thanks for reading!

-------------------------------
Benjamin A. Oliver
boredcollective@aol.com

	"We are the Bored. Lower your shields and surrender your fics.
	 We will add your standup and slapstick comedy to our own.
	 Your humor will adapt to entertain us.
	 Resistance is and always has been: Futile."

Collective works available at:
http://rakhal.com/florestica/ben-oliver/index.html

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