Steely Dan stepped away from the camera, the makeup girl rushing in to apply more foundation lest she accidentally take on the semblance of a cadaver. “What time is it?” the captain asked.

  The make-up girl tossed her hair back, blowing her bubblegum and letting it pop. She glanced down at her watch. “Dork Thirty.”

  “Don't come back at me with that stupid joke.”

  “Oops! Sorry. It's ten to. Ten to your own damn business.”

  “Someone throw her off the ship!” Two pirate-babes hustled up, collecting the make-up girl in a burlap sack, and rushed her from the command center, kicking and fighting every step of the way.

  Chicago strolled over, cool and casual as ever. “Why the time? 37 minutes is a while away.”

  “37 minutes, what the hell you – oh, oh, right, the deadline, the countdown, whatever. No, it's not for that, she'll be here way before 37 minutes anyway, I just picked that number out of my butt. Saw it on the bottle of ketchup.”

  Chicago calmly walked over to the buffet table spread out, a host of offerings, roast goose, caviar, brine shrimp, and plucked a bottle of Heinz Ketchup from the condiment turntable. “It's 57.”

  “You know I was never good at math. Anyway! I just ordered a pizza. Should be here in 15 minutes.”

  “One, we have all this food and you order a pizza,” Chicago said. “And two, 15 minute delivery? Dang, what do they use, rocket boots?”

  “Local outfit,” she explained with a shrug. “14 minutes to make it, 30 seconds to slice and box it, 30 seconds or less to deliver or your money back.”

  “Quite the claim.” He pulled a gold timepiece out of his inside pocket, clicked it open and took notation. “It's now Dork Thirty.”

  “DON'T YOU START WITH ME NOW!”

  Down below, Snap ran around in circles. “37 minutes! 37 MINUTES! The world was created in 37 minutes, but I can't get to a flying submarine!” She flapped her little wings, gaining about an inch of lift before landing hard on her butt. “Gol' durn it! John Brown's body! I'm weak! I'm WEEEEAK!”

  The hydrogen-powered Lovecraft rolled up alongside the roof, Acinony beckoning her daughter. “Come on, Snap, enough of this. Let's go home.”

  “EEK! A flying car! How fortuitous!” She skipped over, tail swishing, wings fluttering. “Driver! Take me to that flying submarine up there now! Pronto! And there'll be an extra 20 in your tip if you floor it!”

  The pregnant cheetah-woman looked around silently, biting her lower lip and gripping the heart-shaped steering wheel with strange, nervous energy. “There is no flying submarine, Snap.”

  “Stop gaslighting me, Mom, and hit the gas!” Snap snapped, hopping into the backseat and switching on hot tub mode. “I'm not 10 anymore, that doesn't work!” Acinony sighed and powered up the accelerators, gliding the Lovecraft into the sky.

  Snap cast a quick glance up just to make sure the submarine really was there.

  “Oh. Good.”

  The Lovecraft's afterburners kicked into overdrive, rocketing around The Naughty Lass, careening past the intricate neon lights, the animated pirate girl much, much larger when viewed up close, neon tubes big enough to walk on. In fact, a number of hot pirate-babes were performing general maintenance on them at the moment, pausing to gawk at the bubblegum-pink Cadillac as it zipped on by.

  “Uh-oh,” the maintenance chief muttered, shaking her head. “Snap Zasperate's in the house. You know what that means.”

  Her subordinates thought a moment then grinned, rubbing their hands together. “Party?”

  The chief giggled and bounced. “Oh, boy, you know it!”

  Snap jumped out of the Lovecraft, plummeting the hundred or so feet to the deck of the chrome beast blotting out the sun, hitting the metal with a loud CLANG and galloping on all six legs to the conning tower rising like an imperious monolith in the distance. “Rise up, my sisters in Christ!” she declared boldly, the pirate-babes stopping what they were doing to gawk at this four-armed, pink-haired, thagomizer-sporting lizard-lass wearing an AC/DC t-shirt and denim hot pants. Snap jumped on a pile of crates, pumping her four fists. “It is I, Snap Zasperate, the hero of Pareidolia City! Idol o' millions! Especially one! Screwy! Squirrel-Girl!”

  The pirate-babes stared at her silently. Snap lowered her arms, feeling a bit sheepish, and cleared her throat. “Ahem. ONE! SCREWY! SQUIRREL-GIRL!” Again, nothing happened and her confusion turned to frustration. “HELLO? Screwy squirrel-girl! Is there a screwy squirrel-girl in the hizz-ouse? Earth to screwy squirrel-girl, come in!”

  The crate at the very bottom of the pile cracked open, and out of a mess of straw rolled an adorable little russet squirrel-girl in a peach blouse and skirt, coughing and brushing herself off. “I'm sorry! I'M SORRY! I fell asleep! You took so long to get here, I just dozed off! Ahem!” She planted her fists on her hips and smiled. “Hey! That's MEEEEE!”

  The pirate-babes just stood there, frozen, staring at them sullenly. “OH JEEZ!” someone in the back screamed. “YOU GUYS SUCK!”

  The squirrel-girl wilted and began to cry. Snap slid down the mountain of crates and collected her in a big hug. “It's okay, Praleene Jane, it's not your fault. I blame your crazed, Puritanical upbringing.” She tossed the squirrel-girl aside and addressed the audience. “Yes! I, Snap Zasperate, have arrived to liberate you! You are now free! FREE! Free from the shackles of bondage! Free to roam about, frolicking through the fields! Like cute adorable little bunnies!” She squatted down, wiggling her nose, imitating a rabbit. “Hop! Hop! Hop your way to freedom! Come, Hazel, come Bigwig! Let us form a new warren at Watership Down! Hop! Hop! What's that, Fiver? General Wormwort is on the march? We shall defend our home to the death! Oh no! The blood! THE BLOOD! SO MUCH FLIPPIN' BLOOD! AAAAAH!” She collapsed, sprawling out like a pinwheel, tail twitching spasmodically.

  The pirate-babes stared at her a moment, the silence broken when one of them started a slow, polite clap which no one joined in on.

  Snap hopped to her feet and bowed. “All right, enough of Snap Zasperate Theater Proudly Presents 'Watership Down' for tonight! Speaking of bunnies, you chicks would look killer in some bunny costumes, fishnet stockings.”

  “I'm wearing fishnet stockings,” a pirate-babe pointed out, flashing her gams.

  “Ooh! Stylish! Anyway. Which way's the boss lady?” All hands pointed towards the conning tower and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, SURE, when is the Big Bad, TM, ever NOT in a giant tower. Or a subterranean lair?”

  “Wow, Snappy!” Praleene said, skipping after her. “You said 'subterranean' without slurring it!”

  “I've been taking pills for that.”

  “I see, I see.”

  “Yeah,” Snap grunted, Praleene hopping on her shoulders as she scaled the tower, her sharp claws sinking into the metal like a hot knife through butter. “When can we get a bad guy who lives in an old house or something?”

  “Plenty of bad guys like in houses. Ted Bundy?”

  “Peg's husband?”

  “Never mind.”

  They hopped over the railing, a half-dozen pirate-babes loitering about. “Huzzah!” Snap raised her fists, big as sledgehammers. The pirate-babes stared at her, blowing smoke. She frowned. “What? You not gonna fight me?”

  “You just scaled a hundred meter conning tower in record time,” one of them replied.

  “Using claws that sank into steel-titanium alloy like it was putty,” another added. “No. We're not gonna fight you.”

  Snap's arms flopped down, utterly aghast at this revelation. “Wow,” Praleene whistled sharply. “Sensible henchmen! Hench-babes. Whatever.”

  “Yeah! The worst kind of henching! Come on, at least Steely Dan won't be such a pansy!” They ran for the hatch, Snap ripping it clear off and heaving it sidelong like a discus out into the middle of the sea.

  One of the pirate-babes groaned. “Man! I just replaced that yesterday! And the day before. AND the day BEFORE.”

  They dropped down into the command center, everyone glancing up momentarily before resuming their monitoring and bombardment of the city. “Where is she?” Snap snarled, thrashing her tail about, forcing Praleene to hit the floor lest she get clobbered. “Where is Steely Dan McCool?”

  “Right here, ya dingbat.” At the end of the command center, a spotlight flared up, illuminating the cadaverous buccaneer, sitting in a throne made of skulls, some still stained with blood. “I see you managed to get past my Praetorian guard, my most loyal and elite class of bodyguards who would die for me rather than any harm befall my essence!”

  “Your Praetorian guard took one look at THESE,” Snap said, holding her massive reptilian paws up, “and said, 'Yeah, no, we good.' Anyway! Steely Dan McCool, I ain't no fool! But you're a tool, and you're making me drool! So lemme drop a stool and take you to school!”

  Steely Dan choked on her out laughter. “'Lemme drop a stool'? What?”

  “You know, like a barstool,” Snap explained. “I smash one on ya like in a bar fight.”

  “Oh. OH! Ha, right, I thought it meant the type of stool that comes out of – anyway! Did you write that yourself, or come up with it on the spot? Because either way, it sucked.”

  Snap clenched her teeth. “Yeah, I gotta stop farming out to this online five dollar sites.”

  “Yep,” Steely sighed. “Get what ya paid for.”

  “Wow,” Snap whistled, she and Praleene approached cautiously. She tapped the throne with the tip of her tail. “Is that made of REAL skulls? Did you kill, decapitate, flay, denude and then pile and glue all these skulls together just for you to have somewhere to park your butt?” She beamed. “COOL!”

  “Now you know where the 'cool' in 'McCool' comes from.”

  Another set of feet hit the floor behind them, softer, padded, and in stormed Acinony, belly out and proud. “Snap! Where is she? She's grounded for life! No two lifetimes! I'll dig the hole she'll be grounded in myself and pour cement over it!” She bristled, her spotted golden fur standing on edge. “There you are.”

  “Hey, Mom!” Snap waved. “Hi, Mom! Love ya, Mom!” Acinony calmly strolled over, wrapped her hands around Snap's throat, and throttled the living daylights out of her. “Wow, Mom, impressive impersonation of Homer Simpson! Spot on! D'oh, a little too spot on! Jugular! Collapsing! Internal bleeding imminent!”

  “Oh, I do so love a tender reunion between a long-lost mother and daughter,” Steely Dan sighed, wiping a crocodile tear from her eyes. “Reminds me of when I reacquainted myself with my mother.” Her icy grin turned downright evil. “I bashed her skull in with a crowbar.”

  “You told me she tripped and fell on that crowbar,” Chicago chided, wandering in, looking quite inspiring, with his roguish good looks and pale complexion.

  Steely shrugged. “I lied.”

  Snap cringed, seeing how Chicago's skin shimmered, as if dusted with a fine coat of diamonds. “Holy body glitter, Batman. Fall into a radioactive stew of Paris Hilton skin care products?”

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  “How very droll,” he snorted. “Steely Dan told me about you, that you have quite the mouth on you.”

  “You have no idea,” Snap cooed, flicking her forked tongue out only to earn the harshest slap to the face from her mother. “OW! Ow, dang it, ooh, that stung!”

  “Don't be crude then!”

  Chicago strolled over, almost gliding, effortless and graceful, making Snap cringe even more. He leaned down in her face, smiling coyly. “I'm Steely Dan's younger brother, Chicago. I'm also her first mate aboard The Naughty Lass. And...I'm a vampire.”

  Snap stared at him, her upper lip twitching, eyeballs crossing, and then she shook herself out of reverie. “I'm sorry, what? You're not a vampire.”

  “I'm fairly certain I know what I am.”

  “Sorry, see, vampires are cool. Not...sparkly.”

  “I'm cool.”

  “No you're not. You're a sparkle-pire. Not a grim, goth terror of the night that evokes a sense of pervasive dread, as if my very soul is in dire peril. All you evoke is a sense of pervasive irritation, as if I'm about to bust a gut and die laughing. I mean, am I right or am I right...Mom?”

  Her voice trailed off, giving her mother a rather dour glower. It's as if a whole new Acinony had appeared, replacing the grumpy housewife overdosing on hormones, a new kitten appearing. Her golden eyes popped wide open, utterly mesmerized, hypnotized, overwhelmed with emotions she hadn't felt since her adolescence. “A...sparkly vampire?”

  “Aww, hell no,” Snap growled.

  “What's happening to your mother?” Praleene asked, scratching her head. “She looks 20 years younger.”

  Snap took a long, drawn-out breath, as if the news she had to convey, the revelation of the gravity of the situation were almost too great for her to bear. “Praleene. My Mom...when she was a teen...she was a Twilight-stan.”

  Praleene processed this with all the necessary horror she could muster. It wasn't much, frankly. “HA HA HA HA HA!” She wheezed, rolling around on the floor, kicking her legs, tears soaking her furry cheeks. “Your mom? Acinony Zasperate? No, Acinony Lawful, SHE liked 'Twilight'? Unironically? I'd have never figured her to go for tripe.”

  “Oh, she's a tripe magnet,” Snap grunted. “She thrives on it. Hey, where'd she-?” She looked around then slapped her forehead. “Oh you have GOT to be kidding me.”

  There stood her mother, cozied up to Chicago, little pink hearts floating above her head, she purring sweetly, her tail swishing back and forth. Chicago for his part did nothing to dissuade her, actively encouraging it almost with his charming and disarming smile, presenting himself as the ideal candidate for long lost lovers. “Tell me more,” he insisted, “about...myself.”

  “Oy, what a narcissist!” Snap and Praleene groaned, smacking their foreheads.

  Acinony didn't seem to mind, her tail curling around him, pulling them close together. “You're so TALL, and HANDSOME, and GOOD-LOOKING,” she cooed, complete out to lunch. “Did I mention you're TALL? Because gosh darn it all to heck, you are TALL. An Adonis.”

  Praleene screwed her screwy face up. “What's she going on about? He ain't much taller than your dad! I mean, way better looking, no argument there, but a salami sandwich is better looking than your dad. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Snap growled. “She's regressing, we gotta get her outta here.”

  Before they took one step, something beeped. Praleene squeaked, jumping into Snap's arms. “What's that?”

  “Sounded like a watch alarm,” Snap muttered, her ear-fins twitching.

  “Indeed, you are correct as usual, King Friday,” Steely Dan chuckled. “That would be the 30 second mark countdown.”

  Snap frowned. “30 seconds until?”

  “Until my pizza gets here, or my money back.” She grinned, this inky black lips spread thin across her pallid face, a demented skull with black lipstick. “Guaranteed.”

  “30 second pizza?” Snap laughed, tossing Praleene aside. “Who delivers pizza in 30...” Her voice trailed off. “Oh hell no.”

  “ZOOM!” A trail of fire zipped past them, spinning them around like tops, knocking them clean off their feet, and a pink blur vibrated to a stop before Steely Dan's throne. A cute blonde girl, hair up in a high ponytail, eyes shielded by red-tinted goggles, her sneakers sporting treads better suited for a race car, grinning excitedly, presenting Steely Dan with her pizza. “One fresh cheese and cockroach pizza!” She popped the top, revealing a spread of still twitching legs and other sundry insect parts. “Lucky you we failed the last health check!”

  Praleene and Snap shrieked in shock. “JESSICA!”

  She spun around, looking about the submarine bridge awkwardly before spotting them. “Snap! Praleene! What are you doing her-RRRRRREeeeeee...!” She vanished, gone, sliding down a chute located below the trapdoor she so conveniently stood on.

  “NOOOOOO!” Snap screamed, falling to her knees, resulting in two loud pops. “Ow! My kneecaps! Why do I keep doing that?” She pulled herself together. “Mom! Snap outta it!”

  “Ha!” Praleene giggled. “You said 'snap outta it'!”

  “Why is that funny – oh I get it!”

  Steely Dan stepped off her throne, a pirate-babe giving her a remote control. Flipping the switch, the whole wall lit up, a bank of monitors, each one displaying a different YouTube channel, all over them switching over so the wall acted as one big screen. There was Jessica, running at mach speed on a treadmill, dozens of sawblades roaring behind her, ready to eviscerate her into a bloody pulp should she slow down or stumble. “HELP! MEEEEE!” she screamed, absolute panic etched in her face. “I can't keep up with this!”

  “Why are you torturing random pizza delivery girls?” Snap said, eyes darting about nervously. “A girl have NO relation to-”

  “Oh, please, you don't have a secret identity, twerp,” Steely Dan scoffed. “I know who all your friends and family are.”

  “Ah, yeah, I guess that's how it works. But why Jessica?”

  “As much of a sadist as I am, it has little to do with torture and everything to do with harnessing the vast, untapped power of her legs,” Steely Dan said.

  “Oh she untapped THAT power long ago,” Snap declared, “when she learned how to flash them to the boys! WOO!”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Steely Dan dismissed. “No, this is about kinetic energy applied to powering my super cannon!” Out of the conical nose of the submarine, a huge cannon had slowly rolled out, telescoping out, inch upon dreadful inch, meter after meter of pure, unadulterated destructive power all wrapped up in a nice little bow. No, really, for some reason there was a bow wrapped around it. “With which I shall demolish the Fifth National Bank of Pareidolia City!”

  “Where the palm trees are green and the girls are pretty!” Snap and Praleene sang. Snap did a little two-step. “Oh won't you please take me there! In my underwear!”

  “You diabolical genius you!” Praleene whispered. “I'd kiss you but you're evil. And I have a strict no-kissing evil rule. Very strict.”

  “Good rule to abide by, however, in this case, I freely admit I didn't design or build this sucker. I'm a complete and utter dingbat, often out to lunch, with vague primal urges to procreate and imbibe calories overwhelming my base urge to just vegetate.”

  Snap gasped. “Hey! Me too, me too!”

  “You too, you too!” Steely Dan choked back tears. “It's almost like we're...like we're sisters. Cut...from the same cloth! Join me and together we will rule the galaxy!”

  “Sounds like too much work.”

  “I concur. That's why for my next trick, I'm just gonna become really really rich and never have to do anything again.”

  A side door opened, sliding apart. “Yanno,” Snap said, “the chill of sliding doors on sci-fi vessels is kinda negated every time I just go to a damn grocery store.”

  In strolled two young children of all things, or rather, one strolled in, a little blonde girl, hair up in pigtails, wearing the most eye-searing pink polka dot dress ever sewn, dragging a doll in the same annoying bubblegum drenched cotton. The other child however floated a good five feet off the ground, sitting cross-legged in the air like a mystic swami. He wore a striped t-shirt, baggy blue shorts, and knotted under his chin, a ratty old towel that fluttered behind him like a cape. By far his most ostentatious possession was the enormous brain he possessed, and not metaphorically as his skull expanded easily three times the normal sized, stripped bare, veins crisscrossing it, throbbing with malignant intent.

  “Oh good gravy!” Snap yelped. “It's a junior Talosian!”

  “A junior WHAT?” Praleene demanded.

  “Big-headed bad guy from 'Star Trek'.”

  She rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “Do you realize how little that narrows it down?”

  “Silence, lesser being!” the little boy, who couldn't have been no more than ten, and that was being generous assuming he was atrophied from floating too much. “Steely Dan! Speak to me now.”

  “I'm speaking, I'm speaking,” she muttered.

  “How fares my Impregnable Engine of Besiegery?” he demanded.

  “Speaking of pregnant,” Snap said, turned, cupped her huge shovel-sized hands around her mouth, and bellowed. “YO! MOM! KNOCK IT OFF!”

  In a stunning display of vampire ingenuity, Chicago swaggered off, wearing a black cape, carrying Acinony away, now wearing a red, sleeveless, strapless gown shimmering full of sequins. “When did your mom get in that dress?” Praleene whispered.

  Snap grimaced. “Really don't wanna know. Let my Mom go, ya sparkly-faced sum'bitch!”

  He stood halfway up the winding staircase, lined with Gothic cherubs in repose. “Sorry, Zasperate. Once I get them, they're got.”

  “Where did those stairs come from!” Praleene shrieked, pulling her fur out. “This ain't making any sense!”

  “It's almost like we're in a book being written by a guy who's making it up as he goes along, not going back to double check if he set it up properly,” Snap whispered, then laughed, shrill and hoarse. “But that's silly talk! HA!”

  “Ugh, my head,” Acinony groaned, rousing out of her coma, eyelids fluttering. She looked around, utter confusion washing across her face, at the control room, the video monitors displaying Jessica running for her life, Snap, Praleene, then up into the shimmering visage of the impossibly perfect vampire. “What the HELL did you do to me, buddy?”

  He smiled at her warmly. “Nothing you didn't want me to do.”

  She gasped in dismay. “So we DIDN'T have sex? Aww, man!”

  “Mom!” Snap yelled. “Think of your love for Dad!” She stopped and winced. “No! Wait! Not that! Anything but that!”

  “Who are these miserable creatures?” the floating boy asked, hovering over them, those veins just twitching, looking like a bunch of writhing maggots just congealing under the flesh. “Do they make good sport?”

  “Scrawny ragamuffin like you is the LAST person to be saying ANYTHING about playing sports!” Snap snorted.

  “Why I oughta-!” He raised his hands, his brain straining against his skull, about ready to pop out, and lifted Snap right off the ground, spinning her around the room.

  “Floyd!” Steely Dan barked and he dropped the four-armed dragon-girl like a sack of potatoes. “Knock it off, and see to your damn gun. I want those bank walls tumbling like Jericho!”

  He grumbled under his breath but did as commanded, zipping off across the bridge to the monitoring stations, gazing over the shoulders of the pirate-babes at the cannon being rolled into position (if he also happened to look down their bikinis, that was entirely outside this inquisition's pay grade).

  Snap got up and brushed herself off. “You called off your biggest gun just when I had him on the ropes. Smart! Now there's nothing, NOTHING, to stop me from utterly destroying you to your base elements in the names of goodness and kindness and sweetness! Avast, Steely Dan McCool! I challenge thee to a duel! Whoa, hey, I didn't mean to rhyme that time! HA! I did it again!”

  “I accept your challenge,” Steely Dan said, digging into her pizza. She ground her teeth together, a pair of jagged chainsaws, grinding the cockroach matter into a fine pulp. “Know what I like about cockroaches? They don't really ever die. Not until you've refined them down to their base elements.”

  “Huzzah!”

  “And hereby pass to my second.”

  Snap frowned. “Ah. And who's your second?”

  Steely shoved two fingers into her mouth and whistled sharply. “Pinky! Defend your big sister!”

  “Okay-doke!” Up skipped the little girl, swinging her doll around by the arms. “Hi! I'm Pinky! Pink Jane McCool!”

  “That's MY middle name!” Praleene gasped.

  “That's EVERYONE'S middle name,” Snap groused. She looked down at the tyke, barely four-years old, and laughed. “You gotta be kidding me, right?”

  “I can handle you!” Pink replied, crossing her arms, her bloomers peeking out beneath the hem of her skirt.

  “Oh, you're so precious,” Snap grumbled. “I have half a brain to just let you win. As it is, I need the college credits. SO! Here's what I'll do. I'll fight you with three, no! Two – no! One, one full hand behind my back. That oughta even the odds, right? Right.”

  “Don't hurt her, Snappy!” Praleene begged. “We have the same middle name, so hurting her would be like hurting me!”

  “At the moment, I am in such a foul, odious mood,” Snap growled, “the only thing that could bring me momentary joy is pounding this little pink brat into a pink puddle of Pepto-Bismol! Watch me rock.”

  “You can't hurt me,” Pink replied tartly, sticking out her tongue. “Don't even try!”

  “Yeah? And how do you intend on circumventing your ignominious demise?” Snap planted all four hands on her hips, threw back her head, and laughed until she felt like puking.

  Pink sniffed. “Like this!” And with that, she stuck her thumb in her mouth and blew, puffing her cheeks out. Followed by her right arm. Then her left. Then both legs. Then her torso, her face fleshing out fully, muscle upon muscle, layer upon layer, her skin taking on a deep, rich fuchsia hue, darker than Snap's hair.

  Snap swallowed the large lump in the throat and slowly tottered back, the incredible bulk just towering over her, ten-feet tall and nothing but pure pink muscle brimming with fury and an overwhelming urge to inflict violence. “Dang. That's some good circumvention.” She broke into tears. “I am the SMALLEST, WEAKEST thing in the whole dang planet, and I...am...OUTTA HERE! VROOM!” She took off, Pink bellowing, shaking the entire ship, her roar reverberating through the metal corridors as she took off in hot pursuit.

  Steely Dan clapped her hands, cackling gleefully. “And with that out of the way, there is nothing, nothing to oppose me.”

  Praleene dared to ask. “Oppose you for what?”

  Steely Dan turned and struck an awe-inspiring pose. All that was missing was a flag waving behind her. “To become,” she declared, “Queen of the Seven Seize!”

  “Yes!” Snap shrieked as she ran by, Pink stomping right after her. “We have a title!”