asymmetries (asymmetries) wrote in pinstripedheart,

The air is thick with tension.  Eyes making fleeting contact, hiding and seeking thoughts.  Amy’s brow furrows in concentration, her hands shaking.  “Do it,” says Alissa across from her.  She closes her eyes, hand still shaking.  “Come on,” says Carly from her right.  “Yeah, do it” says Jenny from her left.  Amy inhales, opens her eyes, exhales, and releases.

“One, two, three, four, YESSS,” exclaims Amy, “Hand over the pants Jenny.”

The Catch has been stuck in this crappy hotel room in this nowhere town after the nothing festival got canceled because of the godawful storm.  They have played all the games they have... repeatedly.    They tried board drinking games.  They ran out of booze after Pictionary but managed to get really toasted.  They had to find some other way to make things interesting so they tried Strip Uno.  They followed this with Strip Chinese Checkers.  Now they are playing Strip Chutes and Ladders.

Alissa has just lost the shirt off her back and is about to remove it when the arrow comes flying through the window and hits the Shar Pei holding the royal flush in the painting over the bed.  “What the...” says Alissa as she gets up to investigate.  “Ahem, Alissa, your shirt.” Alissa removes her shirt and grabs the arrow.  “This is meant for room 202.  Must be a bad shot.  Complete plans and diagrams for a secret hideout and the world conquest device contained therein.  Full psychological profile of the madman.  I’ll go see if 202 is in.”  Alissa heads for the door, turns, slaps herself on the forehead, “What am I thinking,” puts on her shoes, and heads out.  A topless Amy runs after her with a complimentary hotel bathrobe.  Jenny and Carly never look up from their game of Tic-Tac-Toe.

A few minutes later a robed Alissa and a still topless Amy return.  “Nobody home,” Alissa informs Carly and Jenny, now engrossed in a game of Hangman.  “But everyone loves my new tattoo,” cheerily adds Amy.

“So what do we do now?” asks Carly.  They all look at the mis-shot missive.  “You wanna?”  “Okay, what the hell.”  “Yeah, I’m starting to get cold.”  “I can see that.”

They set about formulating a plan, and then another, and then change it again.  They go through sheaves of paper.  “What about this?”  “Hmm, where are we going to find a Gutenberg Bible?”  “I was thinking...”  “No we lost those in Amsterdam.”  “YAHTZEE” “How about...”  “We sold those in Sebastopol to bail out Alissa and Amy.”  “Oh yeah, I never did get the full story on that.  Pray tell you two.”  “Well...”  “OMIGOD” “Wow” “We shall never speak of this again.”  “Go fish” “I’ve got it!  No, wait, that is negative cosecant cotangent not secant tangent.  I always mix that up.”  “Look at this.”  “No, uh uh, I am not going to wear that again.”  “Not even if I...”  “Ooo, no.”  “King me” “I’ve got it.”  “It is beautiful.”  “It’s elegant yet simple.” “It violates the third law of thermodynamics, but it is otherwise a magnificent piece of work.”  “Checkmate”

An hour later: They all collapse in relief having finally formulated a plan.

Forty-five minutes later: They leave the hotel in disguise as lesbian Jehovah’s Witnesses.
 “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

Half an hour later: The Catch are in a Model T being pursued by henchmen in a variety of vintage cars.  They narrowly avoid being cut off by the mustachioed lieutenant in an antique VW Beetle.
“Slugbug,” declares Jenny and pops Carly in the shoulder.

Fifteen minutes later: Our intrepid heroines hang bound precariously over the shark tank while the second-in-command cackles about them being the “Catch of the day.”
“Are you bigger than a bread box?”

Ten minutes later: The cries of all the cronies echo up, the trap having been a complete success.  The girls dust off their hands.
“I spy with my little eye something that starts with E.”

Five minutes later: “I’ve got it.  You are a sesame seed bagel.”  “Yep”
They burst through the door to the madman’s room.  They leap in to the sound of a high pitched mechanical voice saying, “You goin’ down bee-atch.”  But this is not being directed toward them but at an overly decorated man being led away by the police.  “Someone has beaten us to the punch,” observes Carly, “How anticlimatic.”

The someones in question then turn around.  It is the boys of Kane Hodder and Gizmo, their sass-talking, shape-shifting, robot sidekick.  Andrew and Alissa’s eyes meet, they gasp, and are instantly in embrace with nary a word.

The rest of the two groups approach each other more casually and make their hellos.  “So how did you get past all the guards?” asks Jenny.  “Back door” “I expected this to take longer,” says Amy, “Oh yeah, I should cancel the alligator.”  “So what are we going to do now?” inquires Carly, “And where are Alissa and Andrew?”  They all shrug, sit down on the floor of the stronghold, and play Mario Kart 4 on Gizmo.
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