Beauty Queens
“Balls,” Petra whispered.
“What?” the guard said.
With a “Kee-yah!” Jennifer leapt up from her hiding place and pinched the guard’s neck near the clavicle.
The guard whirled around. “What the …?”
“Crap. That always works on Star Trek.”
“It’s over here.” Petra pinched the other side of the guy’s neck and he dropped like a sandbag.
“Whoa. How’d you learn to do that?”
She put a hand on her hip. “Please. I’m a transgender former boy-bander. You think I don’t know how to defend myself?”
The girls swiped the card. The door opened and they pulled the guy inside.
“Whoa. Holy secret arsenal, Batman.” Jennifer whistled.
The walls gleamed with guns, assault rifles, grenades … things they’d only seen in blockbuster summer movies.
“I’m guessing The Corporation’s expanding its product line.” Shanti picked up a souped-up assault rifle with a scope on the end, then put it back gently.
“This is insane,” Nicole said.
“What’s really going on?”
“I might ask you the same question, ladies.” Harris stood in the open doorway wearing a Three Stooges T-shirt and plaid golf pants. In his hand was a putter. “What are you doing here?”
“Adina needed a tampon?” Tiara said.
“Huh. Why don’t I believe you?” Harris closed and locked the door. Swinging the putter, he made a slow circle of the room, forcing the girls away into a corner. “See, I think you girls are much smarter and savvier than anybody here knows.” Harris gestured to the walls of guns. “Welcome to our secret room. Got some nice automatic weapons. Grenades. Some beautiful killing machines, really. Here’s my personal favorite.” Harris opened a small steel door and took out a jar of Lady ’Stache Off.
“That’s hair remover,” Petra said.
“Looks like it. Actually, if you change one element, it becomes a pretty powerful explosive. Just needs some sort of charge.”
“Where’s Mary Lou?” Adina demanded.
Harris grinned. “Your friend got a little nosy.”
“I’ll ask you again: Where is she?”
“I’m. Not. Telling.”
Nicole grabbed for one of the guns and pointed it at Harris. Her hands shook. “Where’s Mary Lou?”
Harris lined up a shot with the putter. “Cartridge.”
“What?”
“You need a cartridge for that. Which you do not have.”
“Shoot.” Nicole tossed the gun on the table.
“Wait a minute, why are we all standing here?” Adina asked. “There are more of us than there are of him.”
“But I’ve got this,” Harris said, holding out his putter.
“Well, we’ve got this.” Nicole held the can of hair spray out in front of her.
“Hair spray? That’s your secret weapon? See, this is why women will never end up really having power.” Harris swung the putter and the girls jumped back to avoid the blow. “Because I bring a kick-ass, bone-breaking piece of steel …” Harris swung the putter again, forcing the girls closer to the corner. “… and you think you can take me down with a can of hair spray.”
“Yeah?” Nicole said. Her hands shook.
“Yeah,” Harris said.
“Ever get this shit in your eyes? It burns like hell.” Nicole pressed the nozzle and Harris got a face full of The Corporation’s ’Do Me Right with Long-lasting Hold.
Harris was duct-taped to one of The Corporation’s ergonomically correct chairs. His feet and hands had been secured with panty hose, which had been finished off with sailors’ knots.
“Glad those pirates were useful for something,” Nicole said, tightening the last one.
Jennifer ripped off his maxi-pad gag.
“Ow! Jesus, that hurt!” Harris howled.
Jennifer was unimpressed. “You want to know what pain is? Try running out of Advil when you’ve got a Category Five period. I’ve had cramps that would make grown men beg for a bullet between the eyes.”
“You bitches are all so dead!” Harris snarled.
Adina straddled Harris’s legs, hands on her hips. “Uh, Harris? Hate to break it to you, but you’re not in a prime bargaining position. Now. We don’t want to have to hurt you any more. But if you keep threatening us and telling us lies, I will personally give you a Brazilian.”