Jeanni Lamphear Will Make Your Wishes Come True 3 free porn video

Jeanni Lamphear Will Make Your Wishes Come True 3: To Make Wishes Come Untrue! By Ron Dow75 ([email protected]) "Love Slave?!!" John's horror-filled dad cried. "John!! What Have You Done?!!" "He made Jeanni Lamphear his Love slave??!!" John's wide-eyed twelve-year-old sister said. She started laughing at the fifteen year old. "My brother!! With a love slave!!" "Polly!! This is serious!!" her dad told her, his face headed for purple. "With that buncha perverts he has to hang out with, any, any..." Then he, too, had to laugh. "Dad!! It's so true I'm about to throw up!!" John said, putting his hands on his cramping stomach. "Okay! Okay! Those losers managed to get a, a hold, of, that girl," dad said, couldn't stop, thinking again his vision of Ben and his Crue trying Not to fall apart around a pretty girl. "The 'Keystone Kops' of Kidnappers!" "I... I... have..." the closer he came to having to say aloud the unspeakable truth... John ran for the bathroom. "What was That all about?" his father said, staring after his stumbling son, his laugh fading. "He acts like he just saw an axe-murder." "I think he's lost it," Polly said. "He didn't think she really was Jeanni Lamphear. And then the thought of actually, really meeting his love-idol made him blurt out his fantasy." Polly gave a perfectly wicked smile, "And he's sick, 'cause he knows I'm going to tell her about what he said. I think he'd rather face an axe-murderer." --- A very pale John Smith lay with his back up against the bowl. "I killed her... All that's left is her beautiful golden body. "Her zombie body." He put his hand up to his dry-heaving mouth. "John?" his dad asked from the other side of the door, behind the full-length mirror. "Can we talk now?" "MMmp!" "Okay. Just answer me this: Do you think you know where that girl is?" "Mh-Hmm!" "Is she safe? Is she likely to be harmed in any way?" "Mnn!" "Are you going to be in any worse trouble if we wait until morning?" "Mm-Mmm!" "Fine. I've had my fill of trouble. Let your mother handle this one. That girl is more her kid than you guys are, anyway. Good night, son." John found something remaining that he could lose. Into the bowl. --- Knock. Knock. Knock. "Go away!" Polly said, pulling the cover over her head. "I was up past my bedtime! But now I'm tired and cranky!" "Polly, I have to talk to you. You have to tell me something." "I could tell you a lot of things!" she said, peeking out at her alarm clock-radio-player. "Like it's 2 in the morning!!" "Polly, how would you like to, uh, have Jeanni Lamphear as a sister? Instead of me?" "I'd like almost anyone instead of you right now: Let me sleep!" she said, throwing her face down against the pillow. "But what about Jeanni?" "She's no fun! She gets to do all those fun things, and won't even tell me about them," she said into her pillow. "But if, uh, you could trade me for her, would you do it?" "A girl instead of a dumb, old, ugly brother? Sure: Why not." --- "From John to Jean," he said to himself, making a fist, thinking of Jean-Luc Picard. --- The security alarm went off inside Colgate Manse. "What's with those useless dogs!!" yelled a silk-pajama'ed Nathan "King" Colgate said, coming to the top of the stairs drawing the Velcro straps of his velvet bathrobe over his rather large middle. He had on dinosaur slippers. Coming out of one of the doors below, on his side of the house (in a striped cotton pajamas and navy blue terrycloth robe that managed to look pressed), was 5'6" Theodore Stuart, "As I recall, you insisted that they be trained not to 'disturb' any females." "Right: I did!!" Nathan brightened, and headed down. "That means it's got to be a woman! Well, don't just stand there, Stuart, answer the door for the lady!" "I was not hired to be a butler." "You're hired to do all the things I don't want to do! Now answer the door, so I can impress the woman!" "Very well," the other man sighed. "But if it's one of my ex-wives or their kids, don't let them in!!" "Of course!" "For a guy who doesn't want to be thought of as a butler, he sure likes to talk like one." --- "May I, uh (shudder) see Ben Colgate?" "Ben's Woman!!" Nathan cried, more than pleased as he came out from behind the decorative drapes separating the 'parlor' from the front hallway. "Come right in, my dear lady!! This home is your home, as it were! And, I dare say, it could be...." "No! I can't stay!!" she sounded like a frightened bird; how utterly charming. Demure women were so hard to find nowadays. "I just gotta talk to Ben, then--" Too late: The very large man was escorting the woman to the "parlor": "Stuart can go and wake my son. After," Nathan said, giving the hired-hand a stern look, "we've had a chance to get acquainted." "I shall inform the police," Stuart said The woman with the tan skin and bronze hair (hazel eyes!) was dressed in the baggy-style of boys' clothes. "After all, Ben is my son! I have a fatherly duty to know who he keeps company with, wouldn't you say? May I take your coat?" "No!!" the woman said, holding on tightly to the Rockies jacket. "As I was saying about my son, Ben," he said, directing her to the settee. "He's a fine boy, in his own particular way. But he's fifteen. You, on the other hand, appear to be a fine young woman in her early adult years." "Appearances can be deceiving with me," Jean said. "Really?" Nathan grinned. "Does that mean you're, ahem, closer to, say, my own age?" "No: Ahem!" "Younger!?? They certainly grow up fast nowadays.... Still, you look like a fine young woman in her early adultage. And, as such, have the opportunity to get a head-start on all that that implies!" the dirty old man said, taking her hand. 'She' took back the hand: "Jeanni Lamphear has all the opportunities her very early head-start gave her!" "Jeanni Lamphear!!" the man slapped his knee. "I knew I recognized you!! When my loser son's not talking about the ordinary girls found in these parts, you're all he can talk about. Jeanni Lamphear! In my manse!" "'Loser'?? You, too?" Jean was beginning to actually feel sorry for the pervert. "Of course! But don't get the wrong idea, dear lady: Appearances to the contrary, I, too, was once a loser! Knowing that is the first step to being a winner!" "You, a winner?" Jean looked at the loser. "Fight fire with fire, I always tell Ben! Surround yourself with even bigger losers than you are! Then you get to be the winner! Practice, you see! But make sure every one of your crew has a real talent you can use! That's my philosophy," Nathan "King" Colgate smiled as if he did think of himself as a philosopher. "And, and 'Ben's Crue' are his bunch of losers?" "That's correct, my dear. And in my Ben's case, he had to reach pretty low." "Uh, um, Jack Smith is part of your 'crew'?" "You know him? Did he tell you about the contract he signed?" the 'winner' smiled. "And his son? John?" --- POUND! POUND! POUND! (Ben touched the light remote.) "Open up, you lousy, rotten weasel loser Pervert!! Open up before I break this door down!!" "Lamphear!!? You've come back!! You couldn't stay away!!" Ben beamed as he opened the door even before he'd stopped his momentum. He was slammed by the door being shoved open into his face, chest, and then lower parts. The force of the shove made by the irate woman was so great the nearly 200 pound boy was thrown back into his room. He fell and tumbled and landed against the magic wish ball mirror. The wash of air made the bulletin board fall face down, creasing the life- sized poster that'd already been partially on the floor. "Ordinary!!? Ordinary!!" the 'woman' yelled, rushing for the downed boy. "John Smith's great talent is being, Ordinary!!!?" 'She' lifted him by his lapels so high that his butt was off the ground, to put 'her' face right up to his, "He's from California, for Cripes Sake!!" "Miss Lamphear!! That was before we knew he, he, knew you!! No one can be ordinary who knows--" "Shut the Crap up!! I don't want to hear any more out of you but "Yes, sir!"/"No, sir!" You understand?!!" Jean told him before tossing the garbage from him. "Yes, ma'am! No, ma'am!!" "I'm not a Ma'am!! I'm your worse nightmare! Now get on the phone and call the others: We're closing down this freaking freak show while we still can!" "Yes, uh, ma'am! I'm on the phone!" Ben said, scrambling on his hands and feet to his nightstand and the cordless phone in its stand. "Hmph! Who's ordinary now!?" Jean said, putting her hands on her hips. "Not you, ma'am! Never thought you were ordinary! Ever!!" Ben said, fumbling with the receiver. "You're the most Un-ordinary woman I've ever seen! You're the greatest--" "I said cut the crap! Tell me why you want somebody 'ordinary' hanging out with you loser perverts?!" "Because we are losers," Ben said, punching up numbers. "Even if we were winners, we'd want someone ordinary around." "Why?!" "It's like Pop says: Every company and politician needs to know to know the general public! John is our research poll: That's important! He keeps us in touch with the real--" Some man he'd woken up in the middle of the night was screaming on the other end of the call. "Who did you want me to call, ma'am??" "The Crue, for freaking out loud!! If we don't do something about reversing that freaking damn spell, your 'Mr. Ordinary' is going to be anything BUT!" --- While Ben made his calls, explaining things, as usual, without explaining things, Jean noticed the poster that'd started it all was missing from its 'shrine' on the screen near the foot of Ben's bed, above his most recent collection of Jeanni Lamphear and (not the same) pornographic material. He glanced around for it. He went to the toppled bulletin board. "No: I wasn't trying to disturb your beauty sleep! I don't think you need any beauty sleep, Leah! Yes, I'm being honest! I always did think you were, uh, um, "pretty"! How would you like to, err (how low will I go?)..." When Jean lifted up the bulletin board, sure enough there was the poster. "No, Mrs. Peters!! I'm not playing some stupid prank, calling in the middle of the night!! I'm sorry I woke everybody up! Can I talk to Willy? I mean, as long as he's up and all-- He's still asleep? But you just said--" Jean's big, big woman's eye grew round: Instead of this body he was in, standing out on the grass, a parasol resting on a shoulder, in an ultra-cute pose in short, short pink denim shorts and halter top was. Jean nearly tore the poster from the bulletin board. But realizing what a mistake that may be, he quickly pulled the pins out, throwing them blindly around. "About my date with Leah--" the phone could be heard slamming down on the other end. Jean was hurriedly rolling the poster up when Ben put down the phone. "Willy's mom's not going to wake him. We need that poster you know!!" he said, wanting to grab back the masterpiece. "I know! That's why it has to be safe with me!" Ben looked at the woman as if she were a cat burglar, "Uh, er, Stan and Ernest have answering machines. I don't think they're going to show up tonight, either." "Give me a tube for this!!" Jean ordered. "A tube?" she wanted to take it! But, he went to the corner of his large room that had his desk and cabinet full of stationary and other supplies. "We're just going to have to go and get them, now aren't we?!" "We are!?" Ben said, stopped in the middle of opening the cabinet door. "Oh. We most definite are," the 'woman' told him in a very quiet voice, giving him 'her' most evil of grins. --- Jean, the beautiful Golden Girl of Entertainment left his house. "What a mess! How do girls do it; and I don't want to have to know!" he said to himself. "Nothing is more unguy-like." "Now! How am I going to get Ernest?" he said, walking next door. "Stupid question." But he stopped at the property's edge. "Shoot! I can't afford to get picked up by the police a third time tonight!" He walked along the stonewall towards his backyard; a flowers- and-rose-bushes bed (briefly, he thought of Mrs. Wilsure) ran all along the side of the flagstone-looking steps down. "Of course, it won't be me they pick up this time," he said in a small grim smile. Then he groaned, "No, it will be some strange woman without ID." Then he found a answer, "Dad knows Jeanni Lamphear: He'll bail her out." Then he got real, "Yeah, right: Dad's going to do anything for "That Girl"?" Then he found another answer, "Mr. Colgate knows Jeanni!" He became pessimistic again, "After I broke that girl with the clock in her stomach over his thick head?" Jean leaned over the bed, and rested stiff arms on the stonewall. "That leaves Mom. Geez! I'd almost rather spend the thirty days stuck with a bunch of mean, ugly women!" But, he got up onto the wall. --- Jean hugged his chest, and leaped over the 'stream' on the other side of the stonewall; the security lights turned on automatically. Cameras became activated. He could not keep his balance on the damp grass on the other side, and stumbled, towards the lap pool that can along the back of the property. He stopped the woman's body with the birdbath fountain. But he had to release his chests to do it. He turned and sat up on the ledge around the basin, to try and recover some of his internal equilibrium. He looked up at the balcony that ran across the main floor over the patio. The drapes of both glass windows were closed and the lights were still off. "He would have to be a heavy sleeper!" Jean grumbled. Jean looked around (quickly) for something to get up there. The trampoline? Don't be ridiculous. (Of course, if he jumped from the tree...) He could put a white wrought iron lawn chair on top of the wrought iron lawn table. Right: The heavy one, with the glass top. Next idea. He looked on the patio for an idea: The outdoor serving cart! It was wood and looked sturdy enough! --- "As if I don't have enough trouble staying on her feet," Jean grumbled, as he rose, carefully (too carefully), waving her arms around to keep from falling. Luckily for him, hanging over the edge of the balcony, the handles and middle fold of a jump rope was just within reach. He got them. Only to lose his footing on the serving cart. "Okay, Jeanni!" he said, voice strained, "Where's all that exercise you have to do? Give me some upper body strength!" 'She' pulled him up far enough for him to let go and snag an arm around a rail. "Let's hear it for personal trainers," he said, getting his other hand on a rail. --- The right Plexiglas doors were closed (good!); the left (nearest John's house) was wide open. Not thinking, he went through that one: "Ernest! Ernest Zimmerman! Wake up!" 'She' said in the loudest voice he could use without waking up the next door. He felt around in the dark for the bed. "Where are you?! With all of your allergies, I thought-- Gotcha!!" A woman screamed! "What are You doing in His room?!!" Jean the woman screamed. Out came a gun from under the pillow. "Oh, no!!" Jean yelled, diving for the floor, to hide under the bed. Paint balls went everywhere! "Stinking little pervert!! I knew I couldn't trust you to leave a woman alone!!" Glow-in-the-dark splatters were left behind. "Miss Flower!! Miss Flower!! It's Not Ernest!! It ain't even a guy!! I'm a girl!! You LIKE girls!!" "Not when they sneak into my room in the middle of the night!!" she yelled at the girl under her bed, her long hair creating a dark shadow. She was pointing the (empty) paint ball gun at the strange woman. "I just came to see Ernest!! It's a REAL emergency!!" "I should have known: Boy or Girl, you can't trust anybody who's friends of that little pervert!" "May I come out now?" "Why? Are you afraid of what the police might want to know about you!?" Think! Think! "I'm Jeanni Lamphear: You've heard of me! I'm a big, big celebrity! Think what the publicity will do to You!" "Me!!?" "And Ernest's mom." --- "Yes, Officer, it does sound like there's been a lot of disturbances in this neighborhood tonight. But this time, it seems to have been a false alarm!" The long raven haired woman in the uni-sex robe and fuzzy pink mules said. "But I want to thank you for answering so promptly! It is so reassuring for two women living alone with a teenager." Miss Flower's buttering up of the cops was interrupted by the squawk of the walkie-talkie. "Another disturbance?" she asked. "Yes, Ma'am: 'round the corner on the next block." "The Peters' house, maybe?" "I'd be careful, Ma'am," he as he left. "Someone may try to escape by way of the alley." "I will keep an eye out!," the twenty-something said, holding up her golf club. "Especially if it's that Willy kid." Peeking out from (now??) her bedroom, Jean sighed in relief as the cops left. "It sounds like Ben's having no more luck than I am." --- "Okay, nerd-breath! Time to put the Jeanni back where she came from!!" Jean yelled, pushing open the other bedroom door with a wham-bang! "Come on! You'll have plenty of time to be in bed alone after we've sparked under the full moon!" he said, reaching down to drag him up. The light was turned on. "What's going on?! Don't tell me you want the skinny little geek's body?" Miss Flower asked. "He's not so little!" Jean found out, pulling him up off the bed. Limp. "Wake up! Wake up!" he yelled, shaking him. "Oh, for goodness sake! That's not going to work!" she said, coming over to where the other woman held the still sleeping bag of loose bones. "Oh, yeah? Should I knock him around a bit?" Jean looked as the woman walked around him to stand near Ernest's head. "You've just got to..." and she ran her hand over his cheek, and blew. Ernest's body twitched. "You're cruel," Jean said. Ernest opened his eyes; the first thing he saw was Miss Flower. "Aaaa!!" he screamed, jumping into Jean's arms. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he said, hiding his face in Jean's shoulder. "You're heavier than you look, you know!" Jean said with a strain. "Jeanni LAMPhear!!!" Ernest cried, a perverse reflex action pushing him out of her arms and back down onto the bed. CRACK! went the slats. Miss Flower was there to stop the woman's recoil. "You're not wearing a bra." "I won't wear any!" Jean said without thinking, going after Ernest again. He picked Ernest up again from the half-sunken bed; "Okay, you poor pathetic excuse of a Romeo, you're going to make your Jeanni wish come true! Get dressed!" "Y, y, yes, my sunshine! Whatever you say, my angel!" he said; and scrambled even before Jean'd released him. "I could leave the house: You two can be alone--" "Get real! The last thing I want is to be alone with him!" "With other guys?" "Don't make me sick!" "Oh?" Miss Mae Flower's eye arched. --- Flower was behind them as the Lamphear woman shoved Ernest out the front door, saying, "The next stop is Stan's! Then the Crue is going to have one final meeting! We're going to share one last magic moment together under a full moon!" Flower stood there, watching them veer right as they headed for the street. "Damn! Why'd that woman have to show up! And in boy's clothes, too! I can't afford any new wardrobe! "I know: Ernest never wears those cool clothes we get for him!" --- Out in the middle of the pre-dawn, Jean's voice had quieted down, but not his tone, "What was she doing in your room?!" "It's her room now," Ernest mumbled, his spirit broken yet again. "Next week it may be my room again. She keeps changing things around." "What? She playing some psycho mind-game with you?" Ernest shrugged. "She's always doing things to keep busy while Mom's gone. Mom works nights, she works days, so she's always doing something to keep busy!" "Sounds psycho to me," Jean the teen said. "It either has something to do with 'building a nest', or being 'the queen bee'; I'm not sure exactly. Maybe both. She keeps changing her mind, too." "Psycho." "Yeah." --- Stan Lipsky's house was one of those old places part stone and part wood, with round stone towers. If it wasn't for the new paint and well-kept yard, it could have been (and in the dark, it came close to being) one of those old scary haunted houses you saw on TV. And every Halloween, John had heard, kids would try to make it look like one. And still it did not have any security systems. Those that lived inside were enough to scare anyone away. "You go get Stan," Jean told Ernest. "Please, my sweet shining beacon! Don't make me go there! I'll taste your food! I'll open your mail! I'll throw myself in front of a thousand crazed fans! But don't make me go up there alone!" "There's nothing really to be afraid of! They're just people," Jean said, trying to collect his courage. "I mean, it's not like their monsters--" "Jeanni LAMPhear!!" something horrible grabbed John by her legs, his face up against her butt. "Aaaaa!!!" he screamed. "Jeanni Laa-aamm-p-heeaar!!" Willy Peters cried as he flew high into the air. "Whoa-ho! Where does that come from?!" Ben said standing close behind her now. Pale and panting in angry disgust, Jean said, "It's the strength of a thousand creeps!! All through this disgusting body!" --- Stan Lipsky snuck out of the house, carrying Willy on his back. "What happened to Willy?" Ben asked, coming out from shadows only when they were practically off of the property. "I thought he found your window, and got in alright?!" Ernest said, approaching now. "You won't believe this one. While I was getting dressed, he disappeared." "Let me guess, something to do with your sister?" Jean said, sure of it. "She's taking a sabbatical, and has it stored in a plastic bag. Willy goes and crawls inside!" His power of speech suddenly leaves him, now that 'Ms. Lamphear' is so close. Stan suddenly seizes up. "A true pervert's pervert," Ben smiles at the joke. Even he hadn't had those thoughts. "The sick pervert forgets where he is and nearly suffocates!" Jean said. "If this doesn't work, I'm going to end up killing that little creep!" "I'll pray that he does it for you, my angel," Ernest said. --- "Okay, explain again how it happened?!" Jean said, making sure his woman was the last to come in Ben's room. He held onto the tube with the poster in it. "Well, Ms. Lamphear. We're your most worshipful and devoted fan club, and so, of course, we all wanted to meet the greatest--" Ben started to explain the way the Colgates always explained things. "You were after her body, and don't give a crap about anything else!" "Not true, my true idol!!" Ernest implored. "We can dream about meeting any beautiful beyond description woman--no: Goddess!" "What he is trying to say, in his own bedazzled way, ma'am, is that ninety percent of the fun comes from the thought itself! The whole package, you know?!" "I know what those 'fun' thoughts are." "You have charisma!" Ernest said. "A charm and a presence that pales all others!" "And, if I may be so frank, Miss Lamphear, a persona that is to kill for!" Ben said. "Well, take a good look at this 'persona'!" John said, throwing his thumb in her direction. "Jeanni Lamphear's teen tease-queen days are over with unless you can undo the damage you did to it!" "D, da, damage??" Ernest went pale. Stan swayed on his feet, ready to faint. John looked at those under arrest, "You may have killed her." Ernest dropped to his knees. Stan fell over in a faint. Ben held on tight to Willy, putting a hand over his mouth (muffling his, "Jeanni Lamphear... Jeanni Lamphear..."). --- Jean headed for the windows, "Okay, let's try and save her: There's something about a full moon! I don't know how long it's going to be out, but it has got to be about time for the sun to come up!" "We're on the wrong side," Ernest said, trying to see the doom in everything, now. "Don't worry, ma'am: Only Pop lives on the other side of the house up here!" Ben tried to look for the success. "I'm sure you can get him to help a lady in distress, as it were!" "I don't want his kind of 'help'! I'd rather take the show outside!" Jean looked down, thinking. "What kind of collection of yours is this?" he said absent- mindedly (as if an idea was working its way into his head), looking at the pictures and little plastic storage bags that were on the floor around him. "You usually keep everything catalogued and in its own special place." "Those are the pretty girls we're going to put spells on!" Willy told her, getting loose from Ben. Jean looked at Ben with a very annoyed gaze. "Jeanni Lamphear wasn't enough for you perverts. You were going to take their lives, too." "No, it wasn't like that!!" Ernest begged the mercy of the court of final judgment day, "They, they were the rest of our coven!! We didn't have enough people with us!! We Never have people who want to be with us!!!" "Witches: You know?!" Ben said, falling back to his only defense system, his oh, so obvious con-man's charm, "You need thirteen witches to make a spell work! In TV and movies and all you don't need that many, but they're, like, real, professional witches and wizards. If you're amateurs, just casting your first spells, like us, you need all of the crew, you see? We were, uh, a little light in the bench, so, we, sort of employed a little voodoo." "It worked!!" Willy said, rubbing some of the pictures over his pudgy little face. "We got our wish! We got Jeanni Lamphear! She's ours!" "Jeanni Lamphear does not belong to You!!" Jean screamed, ready to kill the little creep right then and there if he came even close. "Then I'll wish for another girl!!" Willy said, reaching for a picture still on the floor. "NO!! You leave Dyan alone!!" Jean cried, diving for the picture. The only reason he got to it first was because Ben'd snatched up Willy, and was now holding the squirming, wiggling, grasping, kicking boy even tighter than he had done before. "Give me a girl! We get our wishes! Our wishes come true! I wish for a girl! You keep Jeanni Lamphear! Just give me a girl!!" "You keep your dirty, filthy thoughts off of Dyan, you freaking no good pervert!!" Jean said, curled up to protect the picture he held to his bosom, next to his boy heart. "No fair! No fair!! What's the good of having wishes, if they don't come true even when they come true!!" Jean was now half looking at the other pictures (now that Dyan's was safe in his hands), when he noticed: "Little Twelve-year-old Polly?!" He rose up onto his hip, while reaching out for that picture, too. "This is too much!! Even for you guys, to even think about--" his anger was now righteous. He could now kill in cold blood. Ben saw they'd crossed over some line. If he ever talked his way out of trouble, this was the trouble that would test his talents: "No! No!! They're, they're part of the coven. They're like one of Us!! They get what we get, right?!! See?!! Share: Equal! We didn't put any spell On them; they put the spell on With us!!" Then, in one last desperate gambit, "If you do anything to us, you do the same to THEM!!!" He dropped Willy to cover his head. Jean saw it then, "They have the power, too?" In one hand was his little sister, in the other Dyan. And, on the floor (the ones Willy wasn't scooping up along with the storage bags) were other pictures of girls he knew. "It's not just you perverts? I got to worry about what some girls might say? They're Always saying stuff!!" "Gimme that!!!" he screamed, trying to grab back the pictures and bags Willy wanted to take back to his rat hole. "No!! Mine! Mine!! I get a wish! One wish!! My wish!!" he was clearly losing it more than usual. He got away, to hunch down in a corner, to drool over the thought of the girl whose creased picture he was holding up against his repulsive little body. Jean held onto what he'd taken away from the troll. The pictures he understood, but, "What's with these?" he said, holding out a hand that had some of the bags. Reprieved from his doom, Ben said, "Samples. You know: Hair, nail clippings, gum; things you add to a voodoo doll." "They're ashes," Jean said, not ready to believe anything the chief creep told him. "It worked! It worked! The magic worked!!" Willy said in his corner, his sanity in doubt. "Poof!" "If, if we don't have the essence of the others, we can't repeat the spell..." Ernest said, looking into the black pit. "We can't Un-do the magic! We can't save Ms. Lamphear!! We're all doomed!!" "There's always something you can do!" Ben tried to assure them. "We just have to get some more samples!" "And wait a month for a new full moon," Jean said, starting to feel the doom himself. "And the thunderstorm conditions," Ernest added, remembering what everybody else had ignored. "There is such a thing as science! Innovation! Enterprise!! We can make our Own thunderstorm! I bet we can even make our own full moon!" Ben said, refusing to look like he was giving up. "See? We just collect what we've got: Save what we have," Ben said, doing just that, setting the example. "Then the Crue gets to work! A Team! Together we... Oh, I forgot about John. He was number thirteen, wasn't he?" Ben said, holding up John's shorts. Jean looked up. It hit him right then and there; the full and absolute impact of what had happened to him: There was a big hole in his shorts. The End (Addenda) What has happened to the real Jeanni Lamphear? We'll discover that, when word gets out to the media were our non-real mega-star is. But before we do, we may meet the people who (say they) love her. Can John keep himself from being "swept off her feet"? This series would be like Takahashi-sama in its large number of characters: Almost all of them...'interesting'.