Maybe it's Betty getting out of the way of the car. Maybe it's the car getting out of the way from Betty. Who will tell? The result is all the same.
The soldiers split to the sides of the elevator as the red wagon bashes through the safety rails! The driver clown clings to the handle as his wagon plummets down the shaft, back-seat clown looking back and pointing up, expression of deep regret on his face!
The green one is pelted with shuriken. It tumbles—tires and clowns fly everywhere! All flop over what’s left of the safety rail as the elevator starts to descend.
“Shit!” says Drake.
Apparently one of the wagons bashed into the elevator controls, which now emit sparks.
Markowski is too wounded to be of any help anyway. “Be careful, ladies! Block B has all the nuts!”
As they sink out of view, steel wall to the shaft closing, Hudson’s voice is heard: “We’re on the express elevator to hell, going down!”
As you move further up the ramp, you hear singing,
Fooooooooooooorrrrrr…..
He’s a jolly good fella
He’s a jolly good fella
He’s a hella of a goo-oo-ood fellllll-AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!
That no buddy can deny!
Best buddy ever, tee haw!
THAAAAAT NOBODY CAN DENY—skip?
NOBODY CAN DENY—skip?
NOBODY CAN DENY—skip?
The irritating voice keeps repeating the hopefully-last line! The phrase ‘nobody can deny’ seems to be a truth. A very important fact that nobody can deny! Nobody!
Despite her fears. Zindarel calmly moves forward....
Illuria rolls her eyes at the awful singing and hopes the song doesn't get stuck in her head.
"Game over? I wish..." She twirls her cutlass in her hand and gets ready for more carnage.
"That's worse than those talent show singers! At least those were entertainingly awful."
More annoyed than anything at the sudden assault on her good taste, Betty moves forward, ready to shut the trap the singing is coming from.
“Do we have to kill everyone in the prison to get out? Zin! Hey, flygirl! Snap out of it!”
Zindarel is forced to fly ahead, over several dead guards and dead prisoners. She sits on an overturned Dixie cup.
Next to her is the obese naked man as seen on the Channel 5 news flash. There are six others at the table, which are introduced by a man with a teapot for a helmet.
“Welcome, esteemed guest. You have the honor of sitting at the right hand of the Birthday Boy.” He gestures to the fire-bearded man to B-day Boy’s left, “Kurtis Blow,” and going clockwise, the clowns, “Hank Edmond Spanky, Dimpled Chad and Vinny Trillo,” ending with himself, “I am Mister Tea.
“And you, little lady? How might I address you? Care for some cake?”
Zindarel sees a delicious cake. Well, there was promise of cake. The prisoners surely got to it first, but there is obviously a truce happening and so they’re sharing the cake.
Everyone else can see a dead guard with a cake server lodged in his spine (where Zindarel sees a rainbow-striped candle). He is curled up like a wild boar with an apple in its mouth. Only instead of an apple, there is a grenade.
Poor Zindarel will take the brunt of the blast without her wits to dive for cover.
Illuria scowls -- it's starting to become her regular expression -- as she sees the table spread. Even more disturbing is the fact that Zindarel is sitting down to join them.
"So, birthday, huh? Shouldn't there be a candle on the cake? How old are you?"
"Hey, I haven't been to a birthday party in ages. May we join you?"
She looks around, "My, that's a big cake. Did one of you make it or can you order one from the commissary?"
Birthday Boy makes a pouty face. “She does not see the candle, Vinny.”
The clown in the jester hat (who wears a puppet on his left hand identical to himself) frowns. He scolds his puppet. ”I feared you were off key, Vincent Junior.” The puppet appears to reply, “F%#@ you, dad. You never understood me. It’s why I killed your dad.” Vinny seems soothed by his puppet’s words.
“Dawwww, I can’t stay mad at you, Vinnies.”
“Shall we sing again?” the puppet and master ask in unison.
Birthday Boy shakes his head. “So Captain, you have your wits about you. Then you understand age is only a number. When serving eighty-three consecutive life sentences, it is a silly number indeed.
“I killed, and so my sentence is to kill until I die. Busting out changes nothing.” He nods to the firebearded one. “Candles will be arranged.”
Kurtis Blow says, “As you wish.”
Candles surround the table. They seem harmless, but…
"Hey, I haven't been to a birthday party in ages. May we join you?"
She looks around, "My, that's a big cake. Did one of you make it or can you order one from the commissary?"
Kurtis Blow wills a red carpet to roll out. Candles line the sides of the carpet, making the circle of candles more like a letter Q. Castra and Zindarel are inside the Q of candles while Betty and Illuria are outside. The red carpet leads to a wall. Castra and Zindarel cannot leave without stepping over the candles. Likewise, Betty and Illuria cannot join the table without stepping over the candles.
A chair rises from the carpet. It is on the opposite corner of the table as Zindarel. Dimpled Chad adjusts his seat so a lady is not forced to sit at a corner.
"Oh, this is very fancy. Mr. Blow - may I call you Kurtis? You know how to make a girl feel special. It only lacks one thing - a door at the end of the carpet, like a Hollywood premiere. And is it Mr. Chad? Or Chad? You are quite the gentleman! Where did you get such fine manners?"
She is just trying to play the lady and maybe get them a bit jealous of each other from the attention she gives each.
I've lost two to this stinking illusion, Illuria thinks as Cassi steps forward.
Chad blushes to the extent that his dimples are redder than the blood-spatter on his face. “This is why I kept petitioning for co-ed prison. It’s nice to have ladies present. Mister Tea, shall we pour a drink for them?”
Mister Tea is about to tip his helmet and pour a deadly dose onto Zindarel, but ‘Mister’ Blow gently reminds his fellow sociopath, “Ah, but the tea is heated to my tastes. We mustn’t burn a lady’s tongue.” He seems certain Castra is impressed with his dissuasion of fairy-torture.
Mister Tea nods, but carefully so as not to drip on the fairy.
Zindarel is now compelled to want a drink, but knows tea is too dangerous.
Castra nods her appreciation of Kurtis Blow’s consideration and gives him a little smile.
The candles and carpet are obviously magic. Betty feels as if she's seen this in a TV show before. She's trying her hardest to remember what show, but all it does, is give her, is a headache and a pimple.
Zindarel licks her lips behind her mask. ”So parched. Need a drink,” she says, still politely waiting for a slice of cake as well.
Betty takes out her endless bottle of high-fizz soda, making sure it's shaken, and stirred.
"What's a party without a drink? I brought some!"
Aiming the bottle at the party, she opens it...
Zindarel flies over to the soda, ready to quench her thirst!
Betty’s soda is none other than Fozzy Fizz, the yet-to-be-released carbonated sarsaparilla version of Foxy Fixx! On the bottle is Fozzy Bear with a word balloon that says ‘wakka wakka!’
Zindarel flies past the candles.
And when she flies over, the flames shoot upward as blue decameter-tall columns! She flies between the flames as a tiny fairy easily can, but her body loses its violet glow. And after a second…
…the glow is back. Zindarel flies toward the soda, now outside the Q of candles.
The magical effect on you has been permanently dispelled. You have your wits about you. (And you’re not THAT thirsty. The drink can wait.)
Zindarel shakes off the compulsion and finally lets out the shriek of terror she’s been internalizing. ”EEEK!”
"Well, look at that! Blue! Absolutely lovely - whose idea was that? Mr. Blow, was that you?"
Kurtis Blow is about to reply to Castra, but he notices his boss’ sour puss as the fairy unwittingly frees herself.
The Birthday Boy grumbles, “Now I can’t have any pudding.” He whips out a skewer. “All I wanted was to impale the fairy, drown her writhing agonized body in pudding, and eat her all up. I still have the pudding, but with no fairy meat, what’s the point.”
Mister Tea nods. “If you don’t eat your meat, you cannot have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?”
Kurtis Blow says, “I’m sorry your birthday wish to eat a fairy pudding pop can never be. Maybe a new wish then?”
Birthday Boy blows in Kurtis’ ear. Kurtis’ moustache is extinguished. Kurtis nods to Vinny Trillo, who sings out the new wish:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Pinch to grow an inch
For every year, right in the rear!
Hank E. Spanky stabs Birthday Boy’s bare ass with a cake knife.
You’ve 83 life sentences
So let’s include them here!
The table flips from Birthday Boy’s rapidly expanding body.
I’m not so sure the concrete floor
Holds your expanding mass
But support’s what friends are for
We’ll cover your bare ass!
Dimpled Chad shouts, “BIG B… IT’S SHOW TIME!
“Left Leg — FORM!”
Birthday Boy grows ten feet tall, wearing Chad as a thigh-high red boot!
Hank shouts, “Right Leg — FORM!”
The giant is twenty feet tall now wearing a black and white boot on his right leg! (You can still see his dangly bits, though.)
Vinny shouts, “Left Arm — FORM!”
Thirty feet tall!! The giant’s shoulders hulk against the ceiling! His left arm has a green sleeve ending in a puppet head!
Mister Tea shouts, “Right Arm — FORM!”
Forty feet! Ceiling bashed to bits!
A gold arm ends in a teapot!
Kurtis Blow shouts, “And I’ll form… THE FIRE UNDER YOUR ASS!”
The Birthday Boy is now fifty feet tall and wearing a men’s beach bikini made of fire!!!!
Zindarel deftly dodges dangerous debris!
Illuria dives clumsily out of the way.
Castra was still working to flatter and cajole the murderers, hoping to get them at each other's throats, and was taken completely by surprise by the table flip.
Betty jumps out of the way and lands. She smiles a sheepish smile as the floor shakes from her landing, glad she's not the heaviest person in the room anymore.
Seeing big boy get even bigger, Zindarel activates her "victorious secret." The fairy shoots up in height, rivaling the giant man!
she shouts as she stabs at him with her kunai.
The dust clears… Castra kicks the table off of herself. Betty and Illuria find themselves covered in rubble, not flattened dead by falling slabs of concrete.
What saved them from being crushed?
Not what… who?
That would be the giantess in ninja garb, now over 100 times taller than before—over a million times her fairy weight! The parking garage collapses under the combined weight of giants, and somehow, the firewall spell shields our three normal sized heroines from the chaos.
Looking up there are not only giants, but… stars. This is it. Freedom whether Bastardom grants it or not, or whoever’s in charge of this insane gladiatorial hell-hole.
All that stands in the way of freedom is one giant.
Big B takes a hit, but simply grins at the no-longer-bite-sized fairy. “I prefer you this way. Why have one bite when I can kill you now, and have a year supply of meat?
“Now, about that tea you were offered—“
He moves to clobber Zindarel with his teapot hand!
Castra stands and pulls Castor from the sheath on her right hip and Pollux from the left. She whispers, "Come, boys, the time for fun and games is over. And when we get out of this, you're going to have to tell me all of the things I've forgotten..."
Zindarel slices the teapot hand in half with her katana, then delivers a devastating counter assault!
Castra stumbles on the debris as she attempts to maneuver and doesn't even pretend to threaten the giant.
Sorry, Zindarel, hold on just a few seconds more... Zeus' throne, but that was amazing, girl, maybe I'll just watch!
Betty aims the fizz bottle, lets a spray of endless soda shoot at the giant's knee and yells: "Let's get fozzy, baby!"
Illuria dashes forward. Her cutlass has chopped hundreds of mooring lines over the years, so now she put it to use against tendons the size of rigging ropes in the legs of this behemoth.
The giant charges at Zindarel, stomping over Betty and Illuria on the way! Teapot and puppet-fist punch the fairy rapidly! “Ow! Why! Oof!” yells the puppet with each collision!
Zindarel grunts in pain as she takes the hits, then the giant fairy responds in kind!
A giant foot approaches Betty. She sees the fiery loincloth above her and thinks: "Let's douse that!" She sprays an endless spray of fizzy soda up the giant's crotch. It takes too much time for her to properly avoid the foot, however...
Illuria doesn't get out of the way in time. She feebly strikes at the ankles as she's squished.
Castra, behind the behemoth Birthday Boy, times her attack, running up the giant’s calf as he steps into his pixie-clobbering strike and scythes into his hamstrings.
Zindarel takes partial damage (-♥️♥️) from the giant’s punches, and slashes back at the hand that struck her!
Illuria and Betty rise up after being run over (-♥️♥️♥️)! Illuria weakens the injured leg some more, while Betty discovers a weakness. The fiery foe might be immune to her dragon’s breath, but her infinite soda power is… well… powerful. Can’t argue with results. Betty discovered a weakness!
Castra’s vicious attack hacks the right leg at the knee! Hank E. Spanky screams as his body attempts to revert to normal. He remains a polymorphed mess—half a giant boot with a clown face expired mid-scream, with giant organs protruding from the severed end. The fifteen-foot -long grotesque oddity quivers and releases a geyser of blood!
The rest of the giant collapses!
The giant glares up at Zindarel and roars a billowing white vapor!
Being visibly shaken from all the slamming, Betty vigorously moves her gear up and down before gushing at the crotch one more time.
Having caused the crash, Castra is prepared for the aftermath and dodges the falling chunks of giant.
She spins and twirls toward Dimpled Chad leg and hews with Castor and Pollux.
Zindarel chokes on the vapors, but even as she gasps for breath, she slices at the giant’s head and arms!
Illuria is crushed! Her snakes bite at the leg pinning her to the ground, injecting poison into the monstrosity.
Zindarel gags and loses some of her size! (-♥️♥️) She feels faint as the world seemingly gets bigger, though her friends are not even knee-high to her still.
She puts a gash in the giant’s head! He reaches for her ankles and a katana slash flays his right bicep, while the puppet hand almost loses an eye to a thrust of her blade!
Still, the giant grabs the fairy by the ankles and makes a sudden pull!
The fiery underwear is flooded with carbonated liquid. Kurtis Blow retaliates the only way a flaming butt can—
After the blast, Chad shouts, “MOTAUR FORM!”
Birthday Boy shouts, “No way!” at the realization that in his dying breath, Kurtis Blow gave Birthday Boy his personal wish that never was. Kurtis always wanted to be a motaur. “Live on vicariously though ME, Kurtis,” the Birthday Boy calls out to the hells!
Though Chad is transformed into a motorcycle body, Castra sees he can be cut down as easily as the other leg!