Cat And Mouse: The Tryout free porn video

Cat and Mouse: The Tryout by Bluto "Good afternoon, this is Della Delargio reporting live for WNBC from the financial district. The Protectors, NYC's newest superhero team, has just foiled a bold daylight robbery attempt by The Destroyers, a gang of supervillains who have been increasingly active in recent months. "The Destroyers staged a lightning raid on the Federal Reserve Bank and were about to make a rooftop getaway when The Protectors came charging to the rescue. Here you see exclusive tape of Night Man, leader of the Protectors, having it out with his old enemy, The Commander, leader of the Destroyers. "Although they escaped without any money, one of The Destroyers, a masked man who would only say his name was Arnie Rosenberg, was left behind and is now in police custody. We have these words from Night Man: "He's just the first, Della. I swear it is our sacred duty to clean the streets of this great city of all scum like The Destroyers." "However, The Protectors themselves suffered a casualty of sorts in the form of Glamour Girl. The crime-fighting beauty, who was trying out for membership in the team, flunked when she started crying right in the middle of the battle. Roll the tape." "Waah! I broke a nail! I don't want to fight anymore!" "So, it looks like the search for a sixth and possibly seventh member for The Protectors will continue. Back to you, Bruce." (Note - This is NOT Morpheus' Glamour Girl.) "Oh, turn that shit off, why don't ya?" Tony Bass said from his hospital bed. "Bad enough I got to be in the hospital again. I don't have to listen to some TV bitch mooning over some sappy superheroes, too." Tony, as usual, was in a bad mood. He was in Newark General Hospital once more, this time recovering from the removal of both his testicles due to cancer. The doctors assured him that all tests indicated he was cancer-free now, but that was small consolation to a man who'd based his entire life on pride in his "manhood." Now, that manhood was completely gone and he felt like a eunuch. Not only that, but with his body producing almost no testosterone anymore he was beginning to suffer from hot flashes and mood swings. "I'm sorry the superheroes offend you, Tony, but I think they're neat," said Nicky Graeo, who was visiting his cousin this afternoon. He changed the TV from the news to The Discovery Channel, which was in the midst of showing a, documentary about African lions. "Anyhow, you should be counting your blessings," he added. "The doctors tell me you don't have any cancer in you anymore and that's a blessing." "Blessings, phooey," Tony spit out with a sour look on his face. "How am I gonna pay for this hospital stay, huh? I got no insurance, the Gamboli family fund is just about empty and even after I get out of here I got no job to go to. I tell ya, Nicky, things couldn't get much worse." "Yoo hoo," a strangely familiar voice called from the hallway, " we're here to see the hospital boy." Cat entered Tony Bass' room with a huge bouquet of flowers, followed by Mick Montana carrying a nice fruit basket. "We're here to cheer up our favorite ex-wise guy," Cat said, as she rushed to Tony's bed and kissed him square on the lips. "Pucker up, big guy, men have died for a kiss like that." Mick could only moan and smack his forehead at Cat's impetuousness. Didn't she realize that Tony was the only person alive who could identify her as the murderer of the Gamboli clan? He had been against this visit from the start, but, as usual, Cat had had her way. He'd hoped the death of her father last month would sober her up a bit, but she seemed just as big a goof as ever. "Du, du, du," Tony said, with a stupid look on his face. "Do you know who this broad is, Nicky?" "Sure, this is Katherine, a friend of my friend Mick Montana here," Nicky said. "You met her before, Tony. Just briefly, after Uncle Salvatore's funeral. Of course, you couldn't stay very long that day, could you?" "I told you Tony and I were old buddies, Nicky," Cat said, as she sat on Tony's bed and thrust her huge bosom mere inches fromhis face. "Go ahead, say something, Tony boy. You just might hear an echo." "I, I, err, thank youse for the flowers, miss," Tony said. He'd suddenly forgotten whatever else he was going to say. "Don't forget the fruit basket, Tony," Nicky reminded him. "Yeah, thanks Montana," Tony said. "I kind of thought youse didn't like me." "I'm not one to hold a grudge," Mick said, as he shook Tony's hand. "Or to kick a man when he's down. If you ever need anything, let me know." "OK, thanks again," Tony said, with genuine feeling. "I'll remember that." "Sorry we have to run, Nicky, but Katherine and I are on our way to a rather important meeting downtown," Mick said. Of course, Nicky knew that meeting was their tryout for membership in The Protectors. The time had come at last to see if they could join America's premiere superhero group and they'd be trying out in costumes Nicky had made with his own two little hands. "See you later, sweets," Cat said, as she nuzzled Tony's nose. "Don't let the cat bite." At that last comment Mick smacked his forehead again and pushed Cat out the door. Tony shuddered and seemed to come out of a fog. "That dame, that Katherine," Tony said to Nicky. "I got to tell you something about her." But before he could continue, another visitor entered the room. "I'm looking for Tony Bass," he said rather gruffly. "Is he here?" "I'm Tony Bass," Tony said. "Who are you and what's it to you?" "I'm Lancaster Gordon, of Gordon, Gordon and Fischer," the man said. "I have a letter here from your wife explaining that she is suing you for divorce. I have another letter, which is a restraining order from the court forbidding you to come closer than 100 yards to her. Once you leave the hospital you will have one day to remove all your personal possessions from your house and then it will be up to the courts to decide the division of property. Good day." With that the man left the letters and exited the room. The stupefied expression returned to Tony Bass' face, as the TV played on in the background. "...while the male lion is eager to mate at any time, the female will fend off all amorous overtures until she is in season, usually from as early as February to as late as July. At these times the female will even mate with other females if no males are available." "Du, du, du...." The New York headquarters of The Protectors was located in a government-owned building in the SoHo district of lower Manhattan. The building, a former warehouse, had been unused for a number of years due to a long-running dispute over ownership and had become a bit of an eyesore in this trendy neighborhood. When the federal government finally stepped in and took it over for back taxes, other local property owners were ecstatic, even after they heard it was to become HQ for a group of superheroes. Its lower space was converted into a large training and exercise facility, while the upper floors were turned into meeting and living rooms. Several members of the group preferred to live at the HQ and they were afforded many comforts, all paid for by Uncle Sam. The building was under 24 hour a day guard and civilians were discouraged from visiting except on special occasions. This was one such occasion. "Ah tell you, ah am sick of dis whole process," The Arrow said. "Why we need more members? When there evar been a job we couldn't handle by ourselves?" "Because Mr. Fix-It and The Medium aren't combat ready," Night Man said, as he prepared to greet today's aspiring would-be members. "They are valuable members of our group, but, frankly, we'd be in trouble if we had to depend on them in a fight. And I'm worried about these two new Destroyers, EXO1 and EXO2. They seem to have real, albeit mechanical, superpowers and, frankly, I'm not sure we can handle them. If they weren't so inexperienced we might have gotten beat today." "But Ted, when have you and me and the chink girl evar come up against something we couldn't handle?" The Arrow asked. "Besides, we don't need two more women members. We got enough broads as it is." Night Man ignored The Arrow's racism and chauvinism as he always did, which wasn't easy. As a black man himself, he was greatly offended by the Louisiana native's antiquated viewpoints. But The Arrow was one of the most dangerous men on earth and totally loyal to The Protectors. As long as he was useful, Night Man would put up with him. But not a minute more. Night Man was actually Theodore Stevens Grant, a successful lawyer from Maryland. His secret identity was no longer a secret because of the Night Boy incident, and he had retired from the superhero biz under a cloud of accusations several years ago. Leading The Protectors was his bid for redemption. The Arrow never made a big deal about having a secret identity and it was fairly well know that he was really Richard Gibbens Robichaux of Thibodaux, LA. Details of Robichaux's past activities are murky, due to the fact that he was in the military for 15 years, most of that time spent as an assassin for special forces. The unit he belonged to does not officially exist. Other Protectors soon joined the two men in the meeting room. Next to arrive was Girl Goliath, the team's strongest member. A former star of the Chinese Olympic team named Rae Ming, she had held all the women's world weightlifting records by a large margin until it was revealed that she had gained her unusual strength from an experimental form of Human Growth Hormone (HGH) created by Chinese scientists. HGH is generally more difficult to detect in the body than regular steroids, but she fell prey to a brand new testing methodology and all her records were voided. Although she was only doing what she had been told, she lost face in her own country and her Chinese masters were happy to loan her to the US to become a member of The Protectors, at least until the heat died down. Rae was indeed a Goliath of a woman, especially for a Chinese, at 6'4" and 280 pounds. She was no bodybuilder, but, unlike most super-heavyweight weightlifters, she carried little extraneous body fat. She was quite impressive in her green and black costume, which emphasized her huge arms and legs. She wore a black domino mask, but that was merely for effect. Although no one on the team referred to her by her real name, her identity was an open secret due to the publicity given her Olympic exploits and subsequent fall from grace. She was quiet and didn't speak much, whether because of her limited English or her personal disgrace, no one knew. Then came Mr. Fix-It, the only married member of the group. He was a flabby, unimposing fellow of average height who wore bib overalls and a red cowl as his costume. He almost never went on missions and would be of little use during a fight, but he was a valued member of the group due to his mastery of all things electronic or mechanical. He was no inventive genius, but he often boasted that there was no device he couldn't fix or adapt to his uses and no one had ever been given reason to doubt him. His constant companion was Rover, a Japanese Abeco robot dog which he had customized with improved artificial intelligence and a number of sophisticated weapons, including a laser that shot out of its nose. Apparently, Mr. Fix-It had spent a lot of time watching Dr. Who as a kid. He jealously guarded his real identity as Ned Potter of Albany, NY, because if his wife knew what he was doing in his spare time she'd kill him. It was Mr. Fix-It who had lobbied the hardest for Glamour Girl to be given a tryout, in spite of her shortcomings. Last to enter the chamber was The Medium, the youngest and most mysterious member of the group. She was tall and thin and dressed all in black like a goth girl, but she talked like a Valley Girl, which caused some to take her less than seriously. That would be a mistake on their part, however, because, despite being only 24 years old, she was one of the most talented explorers of the paranormal in the world. Her natural gift was for foretelling the future and she was invaluable for her ability to give the group a head start on getting to the source of evil activities even beforethey had begun. She was now studying with an even more mysterious master and learning how to read auras, communicate with the spirits and do simple magic "tricks," like shooting fire from her fingers and bending metal with her mind. Her studies hadn't included the martial arts, however, and her magical abilities weren't yet strong enough to be much help in a confrontation. She went along on most missions, but only to let the fighters know what their opponents' next move would be before it occurred. There was one other at the dais today: Nancy Miller, the Homeland Security liaison and the actual leader of The Protectors. While Night Man was the natural field commander, Nancy Miller called all the shots. She controlled the purse strings and she had the political connections. The building's guards answered only to her. And if Night Man ever bristled at her authority, she only had to mention the unfortunate Night Boy incident to put him back in his place. Cat and Mick sat in the audience facing the head table. Their costumes had just been finished the day before, so they were wearing them for the first time. Cat's had had a mirror visor added that hid her tell-tale eyes, while Mick's had a blonde ponytail attached to add to his disguise. They both had tiny earphones and mikes imbedded in their masks so they could communicate with each other at all times. They were the only applicants this day, but the 50 or so seats were filled with officials and guests on hand to watch the process. They had considered bringing Nicky with them as a sort of reward for his good work, but had thought better of it. No need taking a chance that he would be recognized and associated with them. "Hey, Mick," Cat said, as she nudged her partner. "What's that TV camera for? They aren't broadcasting this, are they?" "Hmm, I hope not," Mick replied. "I wouldn't want to be placed under such close scrutiny. Maybe they're just keeping a record for themselves." Night Man stood behind the dais and struck a small mallet for order. "I want to thank everyone for coming tonight to our regular scheduled meeting of The Protectors," he said. "After the usual formalities, we will be processing two new applicants for membership, The Cat and The Mouse. Those are the costumed young ladies you see sitting toward the front of the audience. Because we are a largely publicly funded organization, there have been many requests and even some lawsuits from certain media organizations to make us open our meetings to the public and the press. While all the legal ramifications are still being argued, we have decided to allow the public to view the application part of this meeting. Once we finish our regular business, the camera will be turned on and the rest of the proceedings will be shown on local access cable television. Now, to the first order of business...." "Oh shit," Cat hissed. "I'm not sure if I want to make my TV debut today. Maybe we ought to forget the whole thing?" "Steady, girl," Mick whispered. "We've come too far to just quit now. I'm pretty sure nobody will recognize us, just make sure to disguise your voice." "But, Mick, damn it," she said. "You're the master of disguise, not me! What fucking voice should I use?" "I don't know," Mick said. "Use your imagination. Now shut up, I want to hear this." Night Man had just reached the subject of unsolved cases and was talking about the Gamboli family murders. "This is by far the worst case of underworld killings on record," he said. "In addition to the 23 men killed in one night at Salvatore Gamboli's house, there were at least that many more savage murders committed against members of the Gamboli family in the preceding months. Of course, the Gambolis never called for help from local or federal law enforcement, so the information we have is spotty and secondhand, but we believe the killings were all done by one person, or thing. We do not believe this massacre was mob related." A slight buzz arose from the audience as Cat and Mick looked at each other nervously. The Medium took the dais. "Yeah, like, this whole thing may have started in Africa, ya know?" she said, as she chewed on a wad of gum. "We got reports of similar style killings taking place in a clear pattern over there starting more than a year ago. We think it all began in a place on the Kenya-Somalia border. A local warlord named Manitobe Wazuri, a really bad dude, was found dead at the site of an abandoned archeological dig. He and at least a dozen of his men were found and they were really fucked up - err, messed up - man. Looked like they'd been eaten by a lion or something, but there are no lions in that area anymore. Hey, have we got a five second delay on this cable deal? I am so busted! "Anyhow, about once a month another massacre took place, only further to the west of the first one. It was always bad dudes who got it, ya know? Drug dealers, tin pot dictators, sexual kidnappers, and they were always killed in the same revolting way, fer sure. I mean, according to our reports, evil dudes who realized they were in the path of these killings were giving up and running for the hills even before the killer had a chance to get to 'em. Can you believe it? The locals were hailing this murderer as a savior. I mean, duh? Anyhow, the last massacre took place on the west coast of Africa and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that whoever this killer is, he probably hopped a ship to the good old USA and decided to go into action here. At least, that's my theory." A man in the audience raised his hand. "How many people has this, this killer murdered?" he asked. "We can only give you a broad estimate, ya know?" The Medium said. "From the deaths here and the ones we can confirm in Africa, a minimum body count comes to 250 dead. Intense." A gasp rose from the spectators, as Mick's mouth dropped open and Cat's shoulders seemed to slump. "So, have you identified this killer?" a woman asked. "After a story like that I'll have trouble sleeping at night." "No, we have no positive identification of this killer," Night Man interjected. "Several survivors of the African rampage-all women, by the way - tell of a horrifying creature, a giant thing that's half-woman, half-beast. Several months have passed without any additional killings and, as far as we know, there are no living eyewitnesses to the attacks in this country. But we will provide updates as we get them." Mick turned to Cat. "I never asked you what happened after you left the dig," he whispered. "Somehow I just assumed you made your way to the States without further incident." "I had to walk more than 3,000 miles, Sis," Cat whispered back. "You don't think I did that in a day, do you?" "OK," Night Man said. "That ends our regular business. We now begin the application process. Our two aspiring heroes today are The Cat and The Mouse and they have asked to be considered for membership as a team. Girls? Please be seated at the table." Cat and Mick took their places at the table before the gathered Protectors. The Arrow was in charge of this part of the proceedings. The cameraman turned on his equipment and a powerful studio light was shone on Cat's and Mick's faces. Mr. Fix-It seemed transfixed by the deep cleavages proudly displayed by both their costumes. "Now, you two don't list anything under 'Accomplishments' on yoah application forms," The Arrow said in his thick accent. "Are you all just gettin' started in the hero business?" "Sho 'nuf," said Cat. "We's just two virgins, suh." "What the?" The Arrow said, in irritation. "Are you mocking the way I talk, Ms. Cat?" "Oh no, suh," Cat said, with a smile. "Ah'm from Alabama. That's the way we talk down there, Cajun." "Ah am not a Cajun," The Arrow said, as his voice began to rise. "Just because ah'm from Louisiana doesn't mean ah'm a Cajun." "Oh, so ah guess you's just a regular Louisiana cracker, then," Cat said sweetly. "Nevah thought ah'd meet a pecker wood in New Yawk City." "OK, does the other applicant have anything to say, please?" Night Man said, trying to defuse a potentially explosive situation. "We have the same father, but different mothers," Mick said flatly. "I was raised in Europe." "That's right," Cat jumped in, starting to enjoy her impromptu role as a southern belle. "Poor ol' Daddy had to flee to Europe when one of his experiments went wrong. And that's why we want to fight evil and injustice, to make up for the terrible things he did." "Ahem," said Night Man. "And just what did your, 'Daddy,' do?" "Oh, he experimented on us," Cat said, with a flourish of her hand. "On my poor little sister and me. You see, he worked for a large pet food manufacturer whose name ah will not mention and was always tryin' out new formulas. Well, suh, one day he got the bright idea to try out his pet food formulas on human subjects and ah was the guinea pig, so to speak. From the day my momma took me off her breast ah ate nothin' but experimental cat food. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, that's all ah had. By the time ah was five they were findin' me up trees with no way to get down. By the time ah was 10, ah was catchin' and eatin' mice (sorry, Sis). And by the time ah was 15, ah 'd developed this!" With that, Cat climbed up on the table and stretched out supine, swinging her little tail to and fro and curling it into a question mark. Mick rolled his eyes skyward as some members of the audience gasped and others giggled. Mr. Fix-It had a mild heart attack. "Same thing with my little sister, Mouse, here," Cat continued. "She was forced to eat rodent food all her life and look at the result!" "Ah see, Ms. Cat," The Arrow, having regained some of his composure, said. "And where is your Daddy now?" "Oh, Daddy died in Europe," Cat said. "His last pet food formula exploded. Killed him and took out two whole city blocks. A real tragedy. And, Mr. Arrow?" "Yes?" "You all don't have to call me Ms. Cat," Cat said. "Mah real name is Pussy." "Is that yoah first name or yoah last name?" The Arrow asked, sarcastically. "That's mah middle name, honey," Cat said, with a straight face. "Mah first name is Lotta." "Oh, yeah, I think I saw her in a porno film once," Mr. Fix-It said to no one in particular. By this time there was a loud murmur in the room. Nancy Miller had a sour expression on her face and was staring a hole in Night Man. Mr. Fix-It was contemplating the delightful sight of the still supine Cat's enormous bosom, while The Arrow was turning various shades of red. The Girl Goliath had a confused look on her face and The Medium stared blankly into space. All Mick could do was cover his head with his hands and hope this nightmare would soon be over. Night Man pounded his mallet on the table. "Order! Order!" he shouted. "We've still got a meeting going on here, not a try-out for Comedy Central. Ms. Cat...." "Call me Pussy." "MS. CAT," Night Man repeated. "Let's move on to your alleged abilities. You say on your application that we should let you join because you are faster, stronger, and tougher than anyone already in The Protectors. I hope you are ready to prove such a rash claim." "Why, Sis, I had no idea you'd written that on your application," Mick said through gritted teeth. "I wish you'd have let me go over it before we sent it in." "And, Ms. Mouse...." "Call her Minnie, that's her real name," Cat interrupted. "OK, Minnie, you say you are a gymnast, a black belt in judo, jujitsu and karate and an expert with several weapons, including pistols," Night Man said. "You do know that The Protectors are not allowed to use firearms, right?" "Oh yes, Night Man, sir," Mick said. "That's quite alright with me. I know The Arrow gave up all his guns to become a member of this group and I'm willing to do the same. I hope you don't mind that I use a knockout gun. It shoots tranquilizer darts, it isn't lethal." "Well, that's nice to know, Honey," said The Arrow, trying to reassert his leadership of the proceedings. "Are you sure a cute young thang like you wants to fight some nasty supervillains? Yoah sister didn't twist your arm now did she?" "She's the one talked me into tryin' out for this cornball group, you gumbo-eatin' redneck," Cat piped up. "All right, enough," Nancy Miller said. "Don't you think it's time to move on to the demonstration of powers and abilities?" "Oh, yes, it's time alright," said Night Man. "Let's move to the gym." The gym was a huge room, big enough to contain a regulation basketball court. All applicants were allowed to request in advance the type of test equipment they wanted set up for their audition. In this case the equipment included a 1,000-pound Olympic barbell set borrowed from Girl Goliath, several solid wood doors braced at the bottom to stand by themselves, a balance beam and a short rope attached to the 20-foot high ceiling. As Mick did stretches to warm-up, Cat went straight to the weightlifting platform. She put two 20-kilo plates on an Olympic bar and easily cleaned and pressed the weight. She quickly added two more plates and handled this weight as easily as the first. As she was adding two more plates, Mick went into a floor exercise routine his mother had taught him long ago. Mick liked gymnastics but had never shown any desire to compete. So, instead of sending him to a school to learn the men's movements, his mother had simply taught him what she knew best, the women's exercises. He went through a flawless copy of his mother's gold medal winning floor routine, then jumped on the balance beam to show off his handstands and flexibility. He also showed off the padded hips and tush Nicky had added to his costume to enhance his "girlish" figure. By this time, Cat had loaded the bar to 411 pounds, five pounds more than Rae Ming's now unofficial world record clean-and-jerk. Cat rubbed some chalk on her hands, pointed at The Girl Goliath, flexed and kissed her biceps, gave a rebel yell and attacked the bar. She deadlifted the ponderous weight to her knees, then bounced it past her jutting breasts and onto her shoulders. A moment's pause, then she heaved it overhead to lock-out, smiled for the camera and let the bar crash to the wooden platform from arm's length, splintering several planks. "Hmm," Rae thought as she observed Cat's feat. "This one knows little of technique, but she has strength in overabundance." Much to Cat's irritation, however, The Girl Goliath and The Medium were the only ones paying any attention to her display of strength. Everyone else was watching Mick's gymnastics routine. "Seems like the cute little gymnast always wins out over the big, strong weightlifter," Cat thought with a sigh. "Whether it's The Wide World of Sports or a Protectors try-out." Just then Mick did a somersault, a back flip, and a cartwheel off the beam and in mid-air drew his trank gun and hit a target held by Mr. Fix-It. When Mick landed in a perfect dismount, the gathered audience burst into applause. "Wow, that was somethin' else," said The Arrow. "Little girl, you are one talented lady." Mick smiled and curtsied and batted his blue eyes, thankful that the artificial weights on his chest and ass hadn't thrown him off balance very much. By now, Cat had moved to the wooden doors and her second demonstration. She walked up to a solid oak door, took a deep breath, screamed, then broke the door in two with her foot. Mick had been teaching her a little about karate, but the door was broken mainly due to her own strength and speed. She shattered another door with her fist and a third one with a head butt. That last one left her a bit dizzy and she had actually broken several knuckles and a bone in her foot, but she knew those minor injuries would heal in a matter of minutes. What really hurt her was that nobody was paying any attention to her efforts. Everyone had followed Mick to what was left of the weightlifting platform, where he had just succeeded in cleaning and jerking 200 pounds. The applause was deafening. "What the fuck!" Cat sputtered to herself. "I lifted twice as much and everybody thinks that little twerp is something special?" For their final demonstration Cat and Mick had worked out a routine to do together. Cat stood under the rope attached to the ceiling, facing Mick. Mick ran to Cat and leaped at her. Cat caught Mick's foot in her hands and tossed him to within inches of the ceiling in the old Rocky and Bullwinkle ally-oop routine. He grabbed the rope and started doing one-arm swings, then held himself upside down for a moment and let go. Cat was supposed to grab Mick by the waist with both arms before he hit the floor. But, instead, she caught him by the ankles with one hand. His nose was less than an inch from the hardwood floor when he finally stopped. He jumped to his feet and snarled at Cat who was giving him a "Who, me?" type look. Then they both remembered where they were, curtsied to the camera and did a little synchronized cheerleading routine they had also practiced beforehand. "Well, that was some demonstration," Night Man said, as he applauded. "I thought for sure you were going to drop your sister on her face, Ms. Cat." "Oh, ah would nevah hurt little sis, would ah Minnie?" Cat said. "Oh no, big sis," Mick said, as he elbowed Cat in the side as hard as he could. "You'd never hurt little me." As the security men cleared the room for the next phase of testing one of them noticed the shattered doors. "Hey, Bill, who smashed all these wooden doors, the big one or the little cute one?" one of the men asked. "Uhn, must have been the big one, Dave," the other man said. "I've been keeping my eye on the cute one and she didn't do it." "The next phase will be unarmed combat," Night Man said. "The two candidates will fight a randomly chosen Protector without any assistance from weapons or special devices. This will be pretty much no holds barred and to win you must knock out or disable your opponent or get them to cry uncle. Or, if you both agree to stop fighting we will declare a draw. Agreed?" "Agreed," said Mick. "Me too," said Cat. "All right, The Cat's opponent will be: The Girl Goliath," Night Man announced. "And The Mouse will fight: me." Mick's jaw dropped about a foot. "I've got to fight Night Man?" he whined. "But he's the greatest of them all. No way I can beat that guy." "Ah, you can take him," Cat said. "He must be more than 40 years old and, remember, he can't use anything from that crazy weapons belt of his. Anything I should know about the green girl?" "Well, don't forget she was raised in a martial arts temple," Mick said, as they walked to the mat-covered combat area. "She's not just a mountain of muscle, like some people I know. She knows how to fight." "Is that so?" Cat asked, as she walked onto a mat. Then she turned around just in time to see a large foot closing in on her head. Wham! Cat could hear little birdies tweeting and wondered for a moment where she was when she saw the big Asian flying at her again. This time Cat jumped 10 feet in the air and let her foe pass harmlessly below. She landed on her feet and Rae Ming was already waiting for her in a fighting stance. The two combatants stared at each other for several seconds, then seemed to reach an unspoken accord. They rushed to meet in the middle of the mat and gripped one another like Greco-Roman wrestlers. The two women grunted and sweated and pushed and pulled with all their might, but neither could get the advantage. Mr. Fix-It broke into a sweat as well just from watching the spectacle. "Hmm, she's stronger than I thought," Cat mused. "I'll have to use my brains." Cat broke off the engagement and the women stood for a moment huffing and puffing. "Hey, Honey," Cat said. "Yoah shoes are untied." The Girl Goliath looked down for a split second, but that was all the time Cat needed to nail her with a two-handed upper cut. Rae Ming flew five feet in the air and crashed to the mat in dreamland. Cat did a side chest pose, raised her hands, and did a little victory dance to less than enthusiastic applause from the crowd of observers. "Yoah sister's a cheater," The Arrow told Mick disapprovingly. Now it was time for Mick to join Night Man on the mat. They shook hands and took their stances. Night Man, just like nearly everyone else, loomed over Mick, but Mick had gotten over his earlier jitters and was determined to do as well as he could, even if it was in a losing effort. Night Man attacked with a blinding series of blows and kicks, but Mick managed to parry them all. Night Man lunged and Mick threw him with a judo maneuver. Night Man smiled and there was applause from the audience. "Very good, girl," Night Man said. "Let's dance." For the next five minutes Mick and Night Man unleashed their entire repertoires, jumping, somersaulting, swinging and kicking, with neither getting the clear advantage. They were panting in the center of the mat when Night Man smiled and stood up straight. "Young lady, I wouldn't be adverse to declaring this match a draw," he said. "What do you think?" "Fine by me," Mick said, and the audience burst into cheers and wild applause. "What is the deal?" Cat asked no one in particular. "Ah actually won, you know. What's she got that ah haven't got?" "She's a charmer, a real lady," The Arrow said, with a sneer. "You, on the other hand, are a southern fried bitch." Before she could think of a suitably pungent reply, Mr. Fix-It was announcing the next phase of the contest. "Next will be armed combat," he said. "All weapons and devices will be allowed. The only prohibition is no use of deadly force. The Cat's opponent will be: The Arrow; and The Mouse will take on . . . Rover." "Wait a minute," Cat said. "Ah have to fight the psycho in the camouflage suit and she does battle with K-9 there? Jesus, ah don't even have any weapons!" "What do you call those claws?" The Medium asked. "OK, so ah missed my appointment with the manicurist last week," Cat said. "That maniac is loaded with weapons and OW!" The Arrow had just nicked her arm with a razor sharp hunting arrow. He looked at Cat with an evil grin and loaded another arrow in his bow. "Ah shit," Cat said, as her opponent launched arrow after arrow at her with lightning speed. But now that she was facing her foe, Cat had no trouble either dodging or knocking aside the deadly projectiles. She kept moving closer to Robichaux and noted that he only had a few arrows left. "You're going to run out of arrows soon, Robin Hood," she taunted. "Then you'll see what I can do with MY weapons." "Oh, Baby, I don't need mah arrows to beat a alley cat like you," The Arrow said. "I got all kinds of tricks up mah sleeves." With that Robichaux pulled a smokebomb out of one of his many pockets and flung it in front of the charging Cat. It provided just enough of a distraction for him to pull out a rope arrow and shoot it into the wall two stories high. He quickly shimmied up the rope, then turned to see Cat coming right behind him. "Climbing's my thang, Baby," Cat said. "Now, ah'm going to scratch you up, but good." She drew her hand back with claws fully bared, but The Arrow simply reached in another pocket, produced a can of mace, and gave Cat a healthy spray in the face. "If you goin' ta strike, strike," he said, "don't talk." In spite of her mask, Cat instinctively grabbed her face and let loose the rope, crashing to the floor on her back. The Arrow dropped to the floor behind her and pulled out a nylon capture net. He quickly bundled up the stunned Cat into a neat package, then turned and bowed to the cheering audience. "Just brains ovah brawn," he said. "She didn't stand a chance." Then he heard a hated voice. "Look who's talking now," Cat said. She'd ripped the net to pieces with her claws and teeth and promptly sprung on Robichaux, pinning his arms and legs to the floor. "Now, Honey, ah'm goin' to carve up that face of yours like a Thanksgivin' turkey," she said, and the nasty grin on her face told The Arrow she wasn't kidding. This was the first time Robichaux had gotten a good look at Cat's large, sharp teeth and it was the first time in a long time that the ex-special forces agent was genuinely scared. "I give, I give, oh God, I give," Robichaux screamed, as he saw Cat's claws slowly approaching his face. The Medium, unnoticed by anyone else, suddenly shuddered and stared at Cat with a look of horror. "OK, Sis, that's enough, let the man up," Mick said, fearing that Cat would do The Arrow some permanent damage. Cat reluctantly let Robichaux go unharmed, but only after turning around and pausing for a while with his head stuck between her thighs. "Cats always scent their territory, you know," she said, when she finally let The Arrow up to only scattered applause from the observers. "There is something wrong with that girl," said security man David to his partner. "Yeah," said Bill. "Why can't she be nice like her sister?" The final combat pitted Mouse against Rover, a curious sight, indeed, as it was a small (supposed) woman vs. a small robot dog. [May the best man win] Rover said, in his peculiar robot voice. Then he sent a laser beam from his nose straight at Mouse. Mick dodged the beam and rolled to the right of the little pseudo dog, but Rover quickly followed his movements, keeping Mick on the run with laser blast after laser blast. In its enthusiasm to get Mouse, Rover fired wildly, not caring if one of the observers was in the way. It set the mayor's wife's dress on fire and sent the rest of the observers scrambling for cover. "Cease firing, Rover, cease firing," Mr. Fix-It shouted into his control microphone. [Sorry, Master] Rover said, as he stopped his light barrage. Mick took the opportunity to pounce on Rover and try to flip him on his back. What he didn't know was Rover was equipped with a 100,000-volt taser-like protective charge. Mick was sent flying backward, but he wasn't knocked out due to the insulation provided by his gloves. "Tricky little pile of nuts and bolts aren't you," Mick said. "Well, I can be tricky too." Mick proceeded to unscrew his artificial mouse tail, which was actually a detachable, flexible club/whip combination weapon. He was ready to use it on the robot dog when The Medium suddenly shouted. "Unngh, news flash, folks," she said. "In thirty minutes The Destroyers are going to attempt to break their comrade out of the police station where he's being held. Serious potential loss of life, fer sure." "Sorry, good people, but this audition is over," Night Man said. "Mr.Fix-It, you'll drive the Humvee, I'll drive the Escalade. Cat, Mouse, do you want to come along? Joining us on a mission is part of the application process, you know." "I'm in," said Mick, as he reattached his tail. "Me too," Cat said. "Then let's go," Night Man shouted. "Protectors . . . Protect!" Mr. Fix-It drove a modified military Humvee, a virtual tank that could do 100 miles an hour. Night Man took the wheel of a customized white Cadillac Escalade. It could do 150 and had a big blue 'P' stenciled on the roof. Each vehicle was equipped with a siren and flashing lights and they arrived at the police station in 15 minutes. The vehicles were also festooned with video cameras for recording all Protector cases. In this instance, there was a live satellite feed back to HQ for Nancy Miller and the public access audience to keep track of Cat's and Mouse's progress. When they got to the station, they were treated to a scene of pandemonium. Civilians were running from the building in all directions, some of them screaming about a gas attack. "Oh God," Night Man said, as he jumped out of the Escalade. "I hope it's not poison gas. Gas masks everyone." Just then a shattering explosion blew up a mailbox near the Escalade. The Weapons Master was on an adjoining rooftop, taking potshots with a grenade launcher. "Down everybody," Night Man said. "Arrow, take that man out!" The Arrow ran a zigzag pattern toward the building holding the Weapons Master, who switched to an AK47 to try to nail him on the street. Meanwhile, The Girl Goliath spotted another Destroyer, The Blue Ninja, lurking near the station entrance and ran up the stairs to challenge him. While all this was going on, Mr. Fix-It, The Medium, Cat, and Mouse were still in the Humvee. "What are we waitin' for?" Cat said impatiently. "They need help out there!" "Now, now, Pussy, err, Ms. Cat," Mr. Fix-It said. "This is the safest place to be right now. Anyhow, I need to workthe remote cameras and we need to wait until Night Man gives us the OK to come out." Just then a 500-pound motorcycle went flying over Night Man's head and smashed into the Humvee. "You call that safe, Yankee?" Cat said. "I'm outta here. Come on, Sis." Cat and Mouse bolted from the Humvee and ran to Night Man's side. "Hey, who tossed that Harley?" Mick asked. "That was EXO2, I'm afraid," Night Man replied. "And that means his sister, EXO1, is here also." At that, a man who seemed to drop out of nowhere landed right in front of the heroes. He was young, in his late teens or early 20s at most, and looked to be in good shape. He was also wearing an advanced military design one-man exoskeleton that amplified his strength to such an extent that he could easily lift half a ton and jump 50 feet from a standing start, in addition to boosting him to 6'10" in height. "Night Man, so nice to see you again so soon," EXO2 said. "Please excuse that minor malfunction I had earlier today. It's all fixed now, so I can finish giving you a good butt whipping." "Not goin' to happen, big boy," Cat said, as she ran toward EXO2. "You've got me to deal with now." "Haw, haw," EXO2 laughed. "Wasn't that lame Glamour Girl bad enough? Now they're recruiting strippers into The Protectors?" "Laugh this off, smart guy," Cat said, as she landed a punch to EXO2's chin before he could defend himself. He wore a helmet and chin protector made of harder-than-steel plastic, but Cat's blow still jolted him to his toes. The super villain angrily pulled a traffic sign out of the ground and swung it at Cat wildly. "Just wait 'til I get my hands on you, bitch," he said. "I'm going to smash you into goo." "Keep him busy, Cat," said Night Man. "Mouse, you and I are going to see what's happening inside." The scene in the station was grim. People were lying all over the place and no one was moving. Night Man knelt down to try a woman's pulse, when he was bowled over by what appeared to be a blur. Mick barely had time to react when he was also sent flying by a blow to the back that he didn't see coming. "Don't worry, heroes, none of the civilians are dead. The Commander just used knockout gas on them this time. But you two may not be so lucky." A woman suddenly seemed to coalesce in front of Mick and Night Man. She wore another exoskeleton and was just as young as the man outside. She also wore what looked like a speed skater's outfit and an insufferable grin. "EXO1, I presume," Mick said, as he regained his feet. "The same, blondie," EXO1 said. "We've been watching your tryout on C-Span and I was just dying to meet ya. Are those tits real or have you had a boob job?" "My fist is real enough for your face, Speed Racer," Mick said, as he leapt at EXO1. But all he hit was empty air. Mick was a pretty quick little so-and-so, but fighting EXO1 made him feel like he was swimming in molasses. "Oh-oh," he thought, "this is not going to be easy." As EXO1 ran circles around them, Night Man reached into his weapons belt and pulled out a handful of explosive disks. He threw them one at a time in EXO1's path. Most of them exploded harmlessly, but EXO1 was thrown off balance slightly and crashed into a marble column. "I can't let her delay me any further," Night Man told Mick. "Keep her occupied while I go see about our prisoner." With that, Night Man dashed off to the basement holding cells. EXO1 quickly regained her feet and was facing Mick when she heard her brother's voice over her helmet's communicator. "Sis! Help!" he bellowed. The super-speedster cursed under her breath and zoomed out to aid her brother. Mick decided to go help Night Man. Cat was stalking EXO2 like he was a wounded warthog. She had managed to get past the swinging traffic sign and had damaged his leg motion control device. His arms were as strong as ever, but he couldn't move. "Oh, baby, ah'm gonna peel you outta' that exoskeleton like a raw oyster," Cat said, as she licked her lips. "Then ah'm gonna' strip you necked and see what that fine young body of yours can do. Mmm!" "Sis, get this crazy whore off me!" EXO2 cried in genuine fear. "Ha, ha, serves you right for looking at all those porn videos, Brother Dear," EXO1 said, as she arrived on the scene. "Hey, slut, how do you stand up straight with those grotesque tits on your chest?" As she voiced her taunt, EXO1 slapped Cat on the ass with all the force she could muster. "Oh, you are gonna wish you hadn't done that, speed freak," Cat said, as she lunged after the backpedaling EXO1. In a moment the supervillain was heading down the street with Cat in hot pursuit. At first, EXO1 called herself playing with Cat, staying just out of her reach. Then she realized, to her horror, that Cat was a lot faster than any hero she had fought before. "That damn Cat woman is doing 40 miles an hour and is actually catching up to me," she thought, as she tracked her foe in her helmet monitor. "She's not human!" EXO1's maximum safe operating speed was 50 mph and she could go a lot faster, but only at the expense of using up all the power in her portable batteries, so she stayed just ahead of Cat and led her farther and farther away from the battle toward midtown Manhattan. In the meantime, Night Man had found Arnie Rosenberg's cellblock and, sure enough, there was The Commander, planting explosives to blow the cell door. "Well, Commander, that's a new one for you," Night Man said. "You usually just kill your captured lackeys. Are you actually going to bother to rescue this one?" "I've turned over a new leaf, pedophile," the villain croaked, from behind his skull mask. "I have a new management style. If I keep killing all our young recruits, where are the next generation of supervillians going to come from?" With that, The Commander drew his antique German Luger and fired away at Night Man. As Night Man ducked for cover, The Commander set off the plastic explosives he'd attached to the cell door and it blew off in an instant. Arnie Rosenberg scrambled to meet his boss. "Gee, Mr. Commander, Sir, I'm sure happy to see youse," said the aspiring supervillain. "The boys said I should be careful because youse got a bad rep for killin' your partners, but I see that's all changed now." The Commander had just been on his cellphone and was nodding his head. "Just so, dear boy," The Commander said, as he handed Arnie a pistol. "Keep Night Man pinned down, would you, please?" Arnie sprayed lead at the last place he'd seen Night Man, while The Commander took a flask out of his pocket and poured some white powder from it onto his gloved hand. Night Man, who knew all too well what The Commander was up to, stood to warn the intern. "Rosenberg, look out, he's going to...Argh!" Arnie shot Night Man in the shoulder where he stood. "Hey, I got him, Mr. Commander, sir," he said with glee. "Did I do good?" "You did very good, intern," The Commander said, in a voice as cold as the grave. As his reward, Arnie Rosenberg got a face full of the powder The Commander held in his hand. It was a special poison he had developed many years ago, a very lethal poison, with no known antidote. Within seconds, Arnie Rosenberg was dead. "Nooo, you bastard," Night Man said, as he held his useless shoulder. "That's the same thing you did to Night Boy!" "And the same thing I'm about to do to you, old friend," The Commander said, as he loaded his palm with more powder. "All I need do is remove that quaint little gas mask and, at last, you can join your beloved Night Boy in heaven." There was a whizzing sound and The Commander slapped his neck as if trying to fend off a mosquito. He pulled out a trank dart, looked at it curiously, then dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks, his death-dealing powder falling harmlessly out of his hand. Mick ran to Night Man's aid. "Sorry, I got here too late to save your prisoner," Mick told Night Man. "Bless you, girl, bless you," was all Night Man could manage to say. The two of them dragged the unconscious Commander to the main floor of the station. The Arrow was inside the building now, as was The Girl Goliath, while the remaining members of The Destroyers were being kept at bay outside by both The Arrow's projectiles and fire from the Humvee's specially built-in artillery. "All we have to do is hold them off until the military arrives and we've finally got The Commander," Night Man said weakly, but triumphantly. "Wait, I hear a helicopter now! Must be the National Guard." "Ah, it ain't the Guard, Boss," The Medium said, over her Protectors communicator. "Jesus, they're, like, firing at us!" Swooping down the narrow canyon of the lower Manhattan street was an RAH-66 Comanche helicopter, its single 20mm cannon blazing a tattoo of steel-jacketed slugs on the Humvee. The Weapons Master and the Blue Ninja used the covering fire to drag the semi-helpless EXO2 onto the waiting 'copter. "Hey, where's The Cat?" Mick said. "And where's EXO1?" As if in answer to his question, there was a WHOOSH through the building's entrance, bowling over both The Arrow and The Girl Goliath. Before Night Man or The Mouse could do anything, they were knocked aside and in an instant EXO1 had the still unconscious Commander in the helicopter. The small vehicle strained at the unaccustomed load of five people as it tried to take off. "Let's go, let's go," EXO1 said to Junkyard Sal, another member of The Destroyers who was piloting the Comanche by remote control. "That maniacal Cat will be here any second and I'm just about out of power!" Sure enough, Cat bounded on the scene as the 'copter struggled off. She was panting and wheezing but determined not to give up. She jumped on top of the Escalade, used its roof like a trampoline, and leaped 35 feet in the air after the helicopter. And she would have had it, except the landing gear was retracted just enough that she missed by inches. Cat dispensed with several unladylike utterances on her way to landing in a garbage dumpster. The Protectors stayed on the scene to make sure none of the civilians were seriously hurt and to file reports with the authorities. Cat took the opportunity to grab a quick shower because of the unpleasant odor she had acquired from the dumpster and so much perspiration. She recruited Mick to watch the shower door and make sure she wasn't disturbed, then she reciprocated by serving as his lookout as he went through the laborious process of removing enough of his disguise to relieve himself. It was close to 11 PM when they returned to the HQ. All the visitors were long gone and the cameras were off, but it was decided to have a vote right then on membership for The Cat and The Mouse. While the secret ballots were being counted, Nancy Miller had a talk with Mr. Fix-It. "You're sure that was an RAH-66 Comanche they were flying?" she asked. "Sure thing, Chief," Mr. Fix-It said. "That's a rare bird and I'd know it anywhere." "Damn," Miller said. "Only five of those things were in production when the Pentagon canceled the program. We sank $6.9 billion and 21 years of effort into that piece of junk and for what? To give The Destroyers a weapon to use against us? How are they getting this stuff?" Mr. Fix-It could only shrug as Night Man, his arm in a temporary sling, called the meeting to order. "On the matter of membership for The Mouse, the vote is 5-0 in favor," he said. "Congratulations, kid, it looks like you are a Protector." Mick smiled and hugged Cat like he'd just been crowned Miss America. "On the matter of membership for The Cat, the vote is 4-1, against," Night Man said. "Sorry miss, I guess you don't make the grade." "What?" Cat shouted. "Ah don't make the grade? What kind of God damned, chicken-scratchin' stuffed ballot box vote was that? Why don't ah make the grade?" "Cause you a hot-headed, foul-mouthed, trouble-makin' bitch, that's why," The Arrow spit out. "You are strong, but you have no honor," The Girl Goliath said, in a rare statement. "And, err, you did dent up the Escalade roof pretty bad," Mr. Fix-It contributed. "And besides, adding two female members at this time would throw the gender balance way off," Night Man said. "One more female makes it 50-50, male, female." "Well, I guess you're going to continue unbalanced for now," Mick said, as he stood up. "I already told you I wanted to join this organization in partnership with my sister. If she's not joining, neither am I. Come on, Sis." "Wait, Mick," Cat whispered in his ear. "You can't do that. Joining The Protectors was your dream. You and I both know the only reason I came along was to help you get in. Well, I guess they hate me so much it makes you look really good to them. Please don't give up your dream on my account." At this point, Nancy Miller stood and cleared her throat. "I hate to pull rank on you heroes," she said, "but your reasons for rejecting The Cat are pure bullshit. I've been watching her all day and she's tremendous! She beat everyone who challenged her, she almost beat EXO1 and EXO2 all by herself and nearly caught that helicopter as it was making its getaway. She's the most powerful person who has ever tried out for membership in this group and you're going to reject her because you don't like her attitude? I don't think so!" The heroes gathered at the table hemmed and hawed and whispered among themselves. "And don't forget," Miller added. "If you reject The Cat, you lose The Mouse as well." "Well, er, we can have a show of hands," Night Man said. "All those in favor of adding The Cat to our little group, please raise your hands." Everyone but The Arrow raised their hands and The Cat was in. It was all Cat could do to keep from sticking her tongue out at Robichaux. The Cat and The Mouse were officially added to the roster of The Protectors. They were each given special communicator watches, keys to the HQ building, and a signing bonus of $5,000 cash. After a round of congratulations (spirited and sincere for Mick; abrupt and curt for Cat), the two new members were ready to go home. Before they could get out of the building The Medium pulled them aside. "You two and I need to talk," she said, as she handed them a slip of paper. "Meet me at this address at noon tomorrow." Cat and Mick gave a puzzled look to each other, then took off for upper Manhattan. By the time they were ready to go to their noon appointment the next day, they'd found out that their debut had produced a sensation in the media. Because of the showing on public access, their applications made the front page of three newspapers and headed the news on at least a dozen television stations. They found that they were celebrities in their own apartment building as well, due to old Mrs. Andrette and her love for C-Span. After the application process started, she called other residents to see it and by the time Cat and Mick were tangling with The Destroyers, a room full of viewers had joined her. Mick wasn't sure if anyone recognized him and Cat from television, but, was it his imagination, or were the renters looking at him differently today? Going to the meeting with The Medium in broad daylight was a bit of a challenge. They certainly couldn't change into their costumes and just waltz out of the building, nor could they be seen tooling around the city in Mick's easily identifiable PT Cruiser. And, because of the elaborate preparations Mick had to go through to become a convincing female Mouse, they couldn't just jump into some random restroom to change. So they adopted the following regimen: They both put on their costumes from the neck down, which, for Mick, included his fake boobs and package smoothing 'gaff.' They then put on oversized trench coats (thank goodness it was still late winter) and knit caps. Both carried reversible overnight bags for their masks, gloves, make-up, and other accouterments. Mick wasn't sure if anyone could see his fake 34 Ds under the bulky coat, but it certainly wouldn't be anything new for people where he lived to see him dressed as a woman. Then they took the subway to 168th Street and changed into the rest of their costumes and make-up in a darker section of the station. It was only a few blocks to their destination on Ft. Washington Avenue and they hoped to hustle over there without gathering too much attention to themselves. Fat chance. "Ay, yo, look there!" "Is dat the hell who I think it is?" "Miren! Miren! Alli van La Gata y La Ratona!" "La Ratona?" Mick thought. "Are they talking about me?" Within minutes after they emerged from the subway, Cat and Mick found themselves in the lead of a little parade of the curious. They were mostly children, breaking off their games of jump rope or delaying their return from running errands for their mamas to follow the odd-looking strangers. A smiling little girl with shoe button eyes and coal black hair was bold enough to tug on Mick's sleeve. "Excuse me, Ma'am," she said. "Are you the famous superhero, The Mouse? Are you and your sister here to get rid of The Broncos? Oh, I hope so. They are very bad." "Uh, no, Honey, we aren't the superheroes," Mick said, sorry to have to lie to such a sweet little child. "We're, err, going to a costume party. Who are The Broncos?" But the streets, just as the walls, have ears. In moments, members of The Broncos, the most vicious street gang in Spanish Harlem, were pouring out of the buildings, driving up in their low riders, and showing up out of nowhere. "Oigen, oigen," the shout went out. "Llegaron para destruirnos!" Mick looked at the little girl and raised his eyebrow. "They say you have arrived to destroy them," she said. "What?" Cat said. "We aren't here for these Dominican dipshits. We've got other things to do." Regardless of that fact, about a half-dozen Broncos were suddenly blocking Cat's and Mick's path. Another half-dozen were coming up behind them. The children scattered, except for the little girl, who buried her head into Mick's trench coat and held him for dear life. A sinewy young man with much gold in his mouth and a body covered with colorful tattoos spoke. "I hear that you two chicas are here to get rid of us," he said, as he played with a switchblade. "Is that true?" "Wow, that's a lot of gold in your mouth," Cat said, with a tight grin. "If you want to keep it there, PeeWee, you'd better step aside." Mick rolled his eyes and held the little girl tighter. "Cat, I don't think we have time for another basketball game," he said. "The only balls I'm going to play with are hanging between this little fucker's legs," she said. Then she took off her coat and handed it to Mick. Ten seconds later. "So you see, Sweety, this Protectors communicator is also tuned to local police frequencies, so I can call for patrol cars and vans and even an ambulance," Mick told his new little friend. "See, they're coming already." The 12 members of The Broncos were scattered all over the street. Most were piled up where Cat had left them, but some were hanging from the streetlights and a few were caught halfway through some second floor windows. "Sorry about the windows, folks," Cat said, as she put her coat back on. "Send the bill to The Protectors, Inc. OK?" The people of the neighborhood shouted and cheered. They had never seen anyone take out The Broncos, certainly not with such ease. "You are such a show-off, I mean, really!" It was The Medium. She had shown up as if from thin air. "Come on you two, you're going to be late for your appointment," she told Cat and Mick. "Lupe? What are you doing here?" "You know this little girl?" Mick asked. "Fer sher," The Medium replied. "She lives in the building we're going to." So the four of them took off for the building on Ft. Washington Avenue. It wasn't a remarkable building, just a four-story tenement like so many others in this part of the city. Mick did notice that it looked a lot cleaner than most buildings in the neighborhood. There was no graffiti on the walls and no trash to be found anywhere. There were also no residents hanging around the entrance or children playing on the sidewalk in front of the building. "You must have a very good super taking care of your home, Lupe," Mick said. "This old building seems to be in quite good condition." "My grandfather is the super," the little girl said. "He also owns the building." "Humph," Cat said, as they started climbing the stairs. "Maybe ah ought to get an apartment here. Ah bet they don't charge two grand a month." "The only people who live here are Lupe and her family," The Medium said. "Her grandfather, her mother, her aunt, and all her brothers and sisters and cousins." "That's odd," Mick said, just as they reached a door on the fourth floor. "Medium, you never told us why you wanted us to come here today. Is it Protector business, or something else?" "The reason's in this room, please come in," The Medium said. Cat and Mick followed The Medium and the little girl into the room. The room was as dark as midnight and smelled of many herbs, some legal, some otherwise. Mick nudged Cat to get a comment from her, but noticed that she was as stiff as a board. "Cat, Cat," he said as he shook her. "What is it? What's wrong?" "Ahhh, ahhhh, ahhhhhh," was all Cat could say. Then someone turned the lights on and Mick knew why his friend was so disturbed. On a small table in the middle of the room was a small terracotta figure as dark as ebony. It was a thing, with the body of a woman and the head of a lion. It held another figure in its arms and another was pleading at its feet. It was the idol of Malato-Zu, the same idol that Katherine Filin had left in Africa more than a year ago. The Medium folded her arms and looked at Cat with a steady glance. "Now, Ms. Cat, what can you tell me about this?" End Episode Four