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For ninety days a miscarriage of justice has gone unanswered. On day four of UGWC’s 2021 Wrestlestock festival, a new champion was crowned, but only after months of his perverted and vile acts. Rather than build to a crescendo on the final day of an event that saw eight promotions come together in the Sonoran Desert for an historic, record-breaking event, the schemes of the usurper have tainted his legacy as a vaunted luminary in the company. Let us not forget that Montague Cervantes, instead of challenging Gabriel Baal for the coveted UGWC World Championship, was relegated to sitting through a week of endless buffoonery that marched across a stage before him. Without a doubt, every sports entertainment fan around the globe watched their breath held, and then let out a collective groan when the decision came down. But perhaps the most disappointed among them, the competitors who suffered the most crushing blow when they watched the smug victor accept his purloined gold, were those who came the closest to shutting down his ill-gotten glory. This is the festering wound for which payback has not been exacted; the defeat of Sers Alex and Bobby, and Hide and Atty at the hands of the villain: Johnny Hitmaker, UGWC's "Most Talented".
Tuesday Oct 19 Not having the need to sleep off a match from the night before, Montague and Jordana had risen much earlier than the rest of the AstroCreeps on Tuesday morning and hopped on a bus for the four hour ride back to Gnaw Bone. Jordana had commitments to keep that would carry her away from UGWC events for the next week or so. Now, right around lunch time, Jordana has finished packing up her room in the suite she and Montague were sharing in the farmhouse. She fires off a text wishing their friends back in Chicago farewell for now, and promises to return before Halloween weekend to celebrate. Montague pitters around his room, pausing momentarily to pluck a hidden throwing dagger from somewhere in his clothes and fire it into one of the weathered walls. Rett watches intently, waiting for the blade to bite into the wood, then rushes over to collect it for the Showman. Monty chuckles as he watches the mechanical cat quickly assess the best path by which to ascend nearby furniture or luggage to reach the latest dagger. Rett hangs from one of these knives stuck in the door between their rooms when Jordana bursts through, laden with bags. Rett: Rett! Jordana: Sorry Rett! She reaches around and gently pulls the cat and the dagger from the door, settling them on the floor before turning back to the Doctor-Professor. Montague: So where are you off to? Jordana: Chattanooga first, then Orlando. Hey, if you have time, there’s a gig available for Halloween. He puts on an exaggerated surprised look. Montague: In Orlando? Kind of big time compared to what you’ve been able to find for me in the past, isn’t it? Jordana chuckles. Jordana: Not in Orlando, it’s out in Long Grove. Couple with some excess land booked a Chicago entertainment outfit to turn the back few acres into a haunted attraction for Halloween week, but the staff had a Covid scare, so now they’re without someone to finish designing it. Montague runs a thumb across his chin. Montague: Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d still be finding these types of things for me to do. Jordana: Anything that helps expand your brand helps me, and helps the AstroCreeps. You think Jacky’s going to be the only one to find fun little escapades for you now? She puts on an obviously fake pout, and Montague narrows his eyes over a smirk. Montague: Not exactly. I just thought now that we are here, this is everything you’ve wanted for us. Jordana crosses the room and steps up very close to Montague, fixing him with a very intimate gaze. She places a palm flat on his chest. Jordana: The reason I pushed you toward the AstroCreeps is because I want you to be everything you couldn’t be before. The reason I’m still here with you is because I want ##everything## for us. Our new family is going to make sure we get it. She holds there, looking up at him for long enough for him to become uneasy, and he takes a step back. Jordana drops her hand and goes to gather up her bags. Montague: I’m forever grateful for your vision, my dear. I’ll take the gig. Jordana: Excellent, I’ll text you the details later. Should I let them know you’ll be there for a consultation tonight? Montague nods. Montague: Absolutely. Rett: Rett!! Wednesday Oct 20 When he had pitched all his ideas to the couple that hired him on the spot, they were beyond excited. In addition to the quarter mile haunted trail they had originally plotted, Montague had added plans for a sideshow stage, an axe throwing station, a nine hole blacklight minigolf course, an escape room in their garage, and a zombie shooting airsoft range. This was one of your ‘Live, Laugh, Love” types, and Montague had kept pushing for more ideas. They were delighted with each one he pitched, especially when he brought up the ticketing system--similar to how a fair operates--and the potential to charge more for each attraction guests wanted to try. They were quick to assure him they could supply the capital and manpower to pull off each one. Now, standing in the field and surveying the lazily-stapled dollar store tablecloths in the trees, which was already starting to come loose in the never-ending breeze the region was known for, Montague heaves a heavy sigh. He wasn’t much more impressed by the volunteers who had shown up this morning. The promised workforce was made up of a few of the couple’s fellow garden-club members, younger family members, soccer moms, church-goers, and your average PTA busybodies and Junior League stalwarts. He couldn’t imagine these cardboard cutout, WASP stereotypes would be easy to work with, or able to provide the hours this endeavor was going to require. That meant he was going to have to do most of it himself. By sunset he hasn’t achieved much more than getting the cheap trail barriers removed and a new, switchback-heavy path mapped out with yellow rope. Nearly everyone wanted to run a side station, and no one seemed eager to participate as a character in the haunt or have any appreciable talent that could be put to work in the sideshow. The teenagers related to his clients were already enumerating the plans they had over the next two weeks that would keep them from being able to contribute after this week. Exasperated, The Showman finally sends everyone home around 10pm, collapsing into a distressed, white Adirondack chair (because of course it’s distressed and white). Looking out at the stakes and ropes that mark where the various attractions are going to be, he feels the weight of the monumental task ahead of him. For a while, he can’t wrap his mind around how he’s going to achieve his vision. In the cool, quiet evening, the memory of Jordana’s voice floats by on a gust. Jordana: I want everything for us. Our new family is going to make sure we can get it. The left corner of his mouth curls up slowly into a sly smile, and he pulls out his phone and dials Tempest. When his friend answers he can hear the rushed, exciting greeting of Jacky drowning out Tempest’s answer. Ragdoll: Hiya Monty! How they hanging?  Friday, October 22 Donovan sits at home in his study, holding a deck of cards and tossing cards one by one into a can that sits several feet away from him. Hastings: Stupid Angie. He throws another card in the can. Hastings: Stupid Rogan. He throws another card in the can. Hastings: Stupid Holden. Donovan looks down at the deck, contemplating whether he would prefer to come up with another forty-nine names or just repeat the same three. He is distracted by the arrival of his daughters at the door. Scarlett: Daaaaaaaaaaddy? Donovan looks up at them. Kathryn: Scarlett has something she wants to ask you. Scarlett: Katie wants to ask too! Kathryn: I was going to say that, Scarlett! Hastings: Okay, how about we just tell me what it is. Scarlett: Can we go here? She hands him a phone. Hastings: What is...why do you have TikTok on your phone? Did Eden put this on here? Kathryn: No, it’s Uncle Owen’s phone. Hastings: That really just adds more questions. He stares at the screen for a moment. Hastings: The Frightful Imaginarium? Scarlett: Auntie Eden said to ask you because she’s scared of clowns. Hastings: Then she shouldn’t have married one. Kathryn: Gabriel is a clown? Hastings: Forget I said that. Scarlett: I’m texting Auntie Eden. Hastings: No, let’s not do that. Let’s NOT do that, and...fine, I’ll take you to the whatever it is. Twins: YAY!!! Saturday, Oct 23 
The Frightful Imaginarium! Montague, his costume and facepaint altered so that he looks like the devil in a red and white barker outfit, wanders the grounds of the veritable Halloween carnival, a joyful expression adding an unsettling edge to the look.. Calling in the rest of the AstroCreeps had been a master stroke, and they’ve helped to accelerate what was little more than an optimistic vision into a fully realized enterprise. That seems to be their modus operandi, after all. The sun has barely set over Long Grove, Illinois, and the place is brimming with guests. Every station has an excited line with a handful of tickets. In addition to the mini golf, axe throwing, escape room, and zombie shoot, the Creeps have each added something to the proceedings of their own flavor. Tempest has created the “Guess your Death” booth, a darker iteration of “Guess your Weight,” that customers are surprisingly itching to try. Before stepping up onto the scale, you have to try and guess how you might die. If the scale lands on the fate you’ve chosen, you win a prize. If, however, the hand indicates something else, a character matching that outcome will emerge from behind the stall and chase you away, usually screaming with fearful laughter. Jacky has cooked up the “Toxic Dunk” in which one of their volunteers is suspended above a giant, hundred-gallon barrel that looks like it might be full of active trioxin 245 thanks to bones, tattered clothing, and glowing lights she has placed inside. For five tickets you can sling caramel apples at a target, and nailing it will drop the volunteer into the vat as it triggers strobe lights and fog effects. This effect is going off roughly every three minutes. In a circle of grotesque pumpkins, a huge member of the Red Triangle Gang stands imposing with a massive foam maul. Anyone who dares can drop ten tickets into a box and select a foam weapon of choice. One by one, you each will step into the circle with the mauler under a three minute time limit. The goal is to knock the big man down to his knees or lower. So far, no one has collected, and the coveted box continues to grow in value. Pisces has set up a horror makeover station with a collection of body paints, powders, latex prosthetics and wigs. Surprisingly skilled volunteers are taking on three guests at a time to transform them into very realistic-looking zombies, demons, vampires, and other grotesque creations. So effective is their work, that folks are beginning to shed their warmer clothes to have bones painted to break through their arms, ribs painted to be exposed under their bare midriffs, and bites taken out of their thighs. Finally, Daedalus has supplied a photobooth which, through some decent digital magic, allows guests to snap four selfies and quickly select four filters that will immortalize their experience tonight with a clever, personalized touch. Do you and your friends want to remember tonight as if you had been in a Giallo film? How about an early 2000s, nu-metal, blue-wash, Dark Castle revival? Grainy 1970s exploitation horror? Classic Universal black and white? These and more are available. What may be most surprising, Montague notes, is the volume of volunteers that were acquired to man this insanely successful venture. None of the Creeps are manning the booths they created, and the Red Triangle Gang is only supplying relief volunteers for the Pumpkin Mauler. Somehow, somewhere, they had managed dozens of willing workers to bring the Imaginarium to life. Donovan stands at the entrance, looking out and assessing the activities across the property. Shaking his head, he sighs and takes a step back. In doing so, he inadvertently runs into someone else. He turns to apologize and instead finds himself face to face with UGWC’s Cross-Hemisphere champion, Tempest. Tempest grins grimly. Tempest: I thought that was you, Donovan. Hastings. What is it that you High Societies like to say? Something like, ‘Fancy seeing you here’? Hastings: Oh, for fu- Donovan glances down at his children. Katie: Oh, we know him! Scarlett: It’s TikTok Tempest! Katie: I WAS GOING TO SAY THAT!! Hastings: Tempest. And the event was promoted on TikTok. I should have put that together. Tempest steps back, his grin faltering to a look of confusion. Tempest: Anyway… what brings you here? He glances down at Donovan’s children and winks, then back at Donovan. Tempest: Certainly you’re above all of the goings on around here, yes? Hastings: I’m above just about anything involving you, sure. But it’s the Halloween season, and the girls and I are simply in the holiday spirit. Tempest bursts with laughter, doubling over and holding his belly in exaggeration. When he regains his composure, he slaps Donovan across the shoulder as if they’re best buddies. Tempest: You know why I like you, Donovan? I like you because you embrace what you are. We’re a lot alike in that way. You and I, we have a lot in common. We could practically be called long lost brothers. You know it? He grins at Donovan and reaches out to plant a hand on Donovan’s shoulder once more, but Donovan slaps it away. Tempest reacts as if it never happened and keeps his smile plastered on his face. Hastings: You and your partners don’t intimidate me. You’re all playing in a sandbox that I built. One of these days one of you might even make it to the adult table, and when you get there you’ll find my throne seated at the head of it. Tempest nods, his smile disappearing. He looks back up at Donovan and glares. Tempest: You disappoint me. You’re telling me the same thing I’ve been told since I stepped foot in the Coalition. You’re supposed to be better than that. I think what you might find is that I’m not intimidated by you. Or what you’ve built. If you think making a clever little metaphor about thrones and royalty is supposed to impress me and my friends, try again. Perhaps you’ll have better luck impressing the simple-minded, like Angelica Vaughn. Scarlett: You wanna stepped foot?! She goes to stomp on Tempest’s foot, but Donovan intercepts and scoops her up. Kathryn: My dad can beat your dad! Tempest is confused for a moment, until he realizes that Katie is pointing at Daedalus. Daedalus smiles politely at the little girl, warm and inviting, as he extends a hand to Donovan. Daedalus: Hello, Mr. Hastings. Fancy seeing you here. Tempest looks at Daedalus with disgust. Donovan looks at the hand for a moment, then adjusts his grip on Scarlett so that he is using both of his own hands. Hastings: As entertaining as this has been, we’ve got a lot to do and only so much time before these two have to get to bed, so you’ll have to excuse us. Donovan continues to carry Scarlett with one arm and takes Katie by the hand as they walk away. Tempest glares at Daedalus as Daedalus chuckles, giving himself a high five with his open hand. Daedalus glances at Tempest and shrugs. Daedalus: He left me hangin’. You hate to see it. Tempest: Who are you right now? Daedalus chuckles again and walks away, leaving Tempest standing in confusion. As incongruent as it may seem to onlookers, The Babadook is around the front porch of the farmhouse, giving a status report to the landowners who had funded this entire night. They’re all smiles in their sickeningly sweet Raggedy Ann and Andy costumes, but they audibly wince as Tempest ascends the porch. For his part, he doesn’t turn down the intimidation he naturally exudes; Montague isn’t sure that he can. Tempest: I need a word with you, brother. He says this to the Showman, and the landowners are all too willing to excuse themselves back into the safety of their home. Montague turns to walk down the red brick steps with Tempest. The Cross Hemisphere Champion silently leads the Chaos Champion across the empty field toward the edge of the carnival. Montague is bracing himself for some sort of mayhem that has broken out; he’s actually surprised it hadn’t happened before now. Instead, Tempest grabs Monty by the shoulder and turns him to look in the direction he is pointing. There, near the escape rooms, is the World Champion, Donovan Hastings, with Scarlett and Katie in tow. What a small world. Montague: Well, so what? Those kids could use some lower-class culture. Gods know they aren’t getting much of an education in the real world from being babysat by the Morgan-Baals in the Upper East Side. Tempest: Perhaps. However, there’s a factor you haven’t weighed. Tempest, still pointing, draws a lateral line in the air toward where Jacky and Kosnar are currently shaking down two garden club ladies behind the garage, not fifteen feet away from where the Hastings’ are lining up. Montague furrows one brow, shrugging as if he’s not seeing the issue. Montague: So what? Tempest: Jacky hasn’t minced her words, Monty. Whether by way of the Conquest or by way of the Key, she intends to capture the gold the Lord of Pain carries. She’s also made it clear that she’d prefer to beat that gold off someone else. Montague: Angelica? Well sure, who wouldn’t rather shadowbox with the Kappa Alpha Tau sister than try to anticipate what sort of shortcut Hastings is going to employ to hang desperately onto his championship? Tempest: Only someone who wasn’t here when Angie wasn’t being completely eclipsed by the personality of her best friend, and actually dominated the World Championship division. That being said, Jacky has made it very clear that she agrees with your assessment, and is willing to take extreme measures to find Vaughn on the other side of whichever path winds up getting her to the main event at Horizons. Montague raises his palms, adding more emphasis to another shrug. Montague: I support her. Tempest: And you know I do as well. But you’ve got a match on Monday against both the only #CoolKid that might wind up with a college degree and someone who is absolutely gunning to remove the championship you’re so proud of. Montague nods, but doesn’t acquiesce yet. Montague: Let him. Chasing the Chaos Championship down is a rewarding endeavor only slightly superseded by defending it. Losing it and winning it back again would be quite an amusement. Tempest nods, obviously happy that Montague hasn’t allowed himself to be defined by the championship, but rather the enjoyment of the pursuit of taking it. Tempest: I respect that. It’s probably the most fluorescent reason I knew you belonged with us. However… we are right in the middle of Spooky Season… Montague nods slowly, finally getting it. Montague: If Angie and Hide are able to embarrass Donovan on Synergy, then I might wind up tripping over myself trying to salvage it. Tempest: I'm not one to push for a match to stay strictly within any boundaries whatsoever, Monty, and if it were any other combination of competitors, I’d relish the idea of the entire thing falling apart with you and Jacky standing tall over the other three. But I have to weigh the variables and I don’t want your partner walking into Synergy with an injury and giving Hide an edge over you. Montague’s expression broadens as he takes in the complications Tempest has sketched out, and a realization dawns on him. Montague: You shouldn’t be burdened with snags like this. There’s no reason each of us shouldn’t be free to express ourselves creatively. If Jacky is determined to maim the World Champion before Keeper of the Keys so that she can put Angie on the chessboard in his place, then I won’t stop her if he crosses her path. Let the chips fall where they may. Tempest: ...but? Montague: But if I can keep him from crossing her path until after Synergy, I’m sure she’ll understand. Tempest nods. Tempest: Just don’t get in her way. I don’t want friction. Montague shakes his head. Montague: Neither do I. If she gets line of sight and draws down on him, I won’t stop her from shooting. Don’t worry. With that, he doffs his hat and reaches into his heavy overcoat, extracting a rubber alien mask. He pulls it on and nods to Tempest, who cracks a chuckle in spite of himself. Montague sprints over to the roll up garage door and reaches for a bucket with two long, thin wooden dowels sticking out of it. He leaps up onto the bucket, balancing carefully on the rim as he draws the dowels through the air. Between the tips of the dowels are three strands of sisal twine that form a triangle. As Monty waves the dowels side to side, giant, three foot soap bubbles emerge, rainbow marbling reflecting in the lights as the bubbles escape and float around the garage. To his relief, the Hastings’ girls are enraptured, and they actually step out of line to chase down the bulbous globules as they float around. After a solid eight minutes of watching Scarlett and Katie pop the giant bubbles, Montague notices Jacky and Kosnar moving on from the escape room, and he takes the opportunity to backflip off the bucket and disappear into the darkness.
Near the "Guess your Death" booth, Daedalus and Jacky toss a foam pumpkin back and forth in an ever-increasing arc as a small child runs between them, weeping inconsolably. Montague chuckles as he realizes the pumpkin is the head for the kid's costume, and he pauses to watch the fun. That is until he notices the Hastings' sprinting toward the booth. As much as he'd relish the consternation on Donovan's face as the girls tried to guess when they'd expire, Monty knows he has to distract them again until the game of keepaway grew tiresome. He looks around quickly and notices a thick, black wig that would cover his face. Plopping it on, he parts it so that only his mouth is visible, and snatches a nearby torch. For the next five minutes, he entertains them by spouting gouts of flame until he can see Jacky hurl the pumpkin onto the roof of the booth and skip away merrily. Montague waves at the girls and leaves them to enjoy spending their tickets and he rushes away again.
In the center of the Pumpkin Mauler, Tempest and Jacky have torn down one of the banners and are now using it as a slingshot to send one of the Junior League members slipping high into the air over and over. The terried volunteer begs for mercy as the Red Triangle Gang keeps the crowd cheering for their antics. Montague is about to ask if he can take over for Jacky when he spies the girls skipping toward them hand in hand. He can't imagine Donovan would allow them to participate in this attraction, but the photo booth is just on the other side, so he has to assume that's where they're heading. Thinking fast, he runs out ahead of them at an angle, grabbing one of the foam battleaxes and shoving it down the front of his coat. The blades obsure his face enough, but leave his eyes clear to see where he's running. After crossing their path, he reaches into his coat and pulls out a massive bazooka and takes aim at the twins. He sights for a few seconds and then fires at them. The projectile explodes halfway there, and the girls are instantly covered in ribbons, confetti, and free tickets. It takes them a moment to understand the boon that has been granted, but they light up suddenly. Katie: Daddy, now we have enough to get the makeovers! Scarlett: I'm going to get the Fiji Mermaid! Katie: THAT'S WHAT I WAS GOING TO GET, SCARLETT! Donovan: You can both be mermaids. Scarlett: Fiji mermaids. Come on! As they reverse course, aborting the path that would have taken them right near Jacky, Montague wipes his brow.
Donovan: Hole in one! He announces proudly as Katie putts the ball into the seventh hole. As Scarlett lines up her shot, he hears a commotion near the ninth hole. It's too dark to tell, but he would assume the female clown Ragdoll was making some volunteer's life a living hell, as she had been all night. He doesn't have long to think about it, however, when Cervantes, in yet another ridiculous disguise, suddenly cartwheels across the path in front Scarlett. She seems perterbed at yet another interruption of their fun, but her frustration is quickly evaporated when the soles of Montague's upturned feet spring off his boots, sending blood-red streamers into the sky and cascading back down on her and her sister. The girls clap and cheer as the Clownman somersaults away, and Donovan wonders how many more times he's going to have to suffer through one of these impromptu performances.
With the head of a mop perched where his top hat normally sits, two strands separating from the rest to be drawn across his upper lip in a mustache, Montague whips his head from side to side in a panic. He swears he saw Katie and Scarlett headed for the darts booth. Tempest had been gleefully cheering Jacky on while she held a fistful of the sharp projectiles up to the throat of some Karen or the other. He’s not even sure when a darts booth had popped up, or who’s genuinely brilliant idea it was to use realistic corpse heads instead of balloons (get one in the eye, get a prize!), but he doesn’t have time to process that. He’d turned to don his seventh or ninth--increasingly desperate--disguise of the night and scoop up several scimitars from the gift shop (gift shop??) to juggle for the girls’ delighted distraction, and when he turned back they were nowhere to be seen. The darts booth was now being manned by a sufficiently reprimanded and sobbing volunteer, but both Tempest and Jacky had likewise vamoosed. Montague spins on his heel, intending to take off to continue the wild chase, but his toe hooks the discarded mop handle and he pitches headlong into the grass, knocking himself silly. Rolling over onto his back, Monty blinks a few times as the stars and waning moon spin over him. Bizarrely, three versions of Donovan Hastings appear above him, reaching out three hands despite their disdainful stares. The Showman accepts the offered help to his feet as The Lords of Pain slowly coalesce into one being. He decides not to bring up how differently Hastings is treating him when compared with their number one contenders match before Wrestlestock. Donovan: I really hope you don’t fall on your face like that on Monday. We’ll be chasing around slightly better than two schoolchildren. Montague: Hardly. While Angie is every bit a dopey college girl, Hide is basically the weird kid in the corner who can’t stop eating paste, while his ‘friend’ Johnny keeps yelling about it and getting him in trouble. Donovan: His ability to consume more than a family of Remulakians does seem to be his one identifiable character trait, I’ll grant you that. Montague: Oh, are we doing a shoot? One moment… As Donovan rolls his eyes, Montague swipes the mophead off and pulls his top hat out of thin air, perching it upon his head at a jaunty angle. Montague: Ahem… Well that and being absolutely oblivious to the damage Hitmaker does to his public image. Donovan: Oh no, that’s where you’re wrong. If, after several years of nearly every opponent grabbing that low hanging fruit, you think he doesn't actually enjoy the bedlam in which Johnny gets him involved, then you’ve missed the point of them both. They complement one another because they assume together they are greater than the sum of their insufficient parts. Montague: Johnny sings and Hide dances. Donovan: It’s an awkward metaphor, but I think you get the picture. If Johnny could string together a series of knife-edged chops long enough to look like he showed up to a match, he wouldn’t need the brute to fight all the little wars he wants to command. And if Hide could reveal his all-too-fluent grasp of the English language without losing the silent bruiser mystique, he’d suplex Hitmaker to the curb so fast he’d probably break his neck. Montague nods. Montague: I suspect much the same could be said about Angie and Roxy Cotton. Once she was able to fly out of the #CoolKids nest on her own, they scarpered and let Angie be. But the first time she got her wings clipped she was grounded until someone with a big enough personality scooped her back up. Now it’s Donovan’s turn to nod. Donovan: And it wasn’t the scorned Sky Queen. Dogged sentimentalism only gets you so far, and a girl scout will get eaten faster than a box of Do-see-do’s left in Yamazaki’s locker room. Angie knows she needs the edge that Cotton provides, just as Roxy knows that she’d be written off as another Gabby Montgomery if she didn’t have the infectious charm that Vaughn adds to her influencer-bitch persona. They complement one another, and it’s pointless to convince either team that they should separate. Montague’s eyes narrow. Montague: So is this complementary cooperation what you’re recommending we find for our temporary alignment on Synergy? Donovan: No, I can already prescribe our gameplan. I’ll handle Vaughn while you and your… He waves a hand in the general direction of the chaos around them. Donovan: ...ensemble keeps Johnny and his pet occupied. Montague considers for a moment, then raises a finger. Montague: And who is going to keep the Conquest Champion occupied? Before Donovan can retort, a pair of girly squeals erupts behind him, and he and Montague both turn to see what was the cause. Monty freezes, every muscle in his body tightening as he meets Tempest’s eyes. A few paces in front of him, Jacky is crouched down, noisily twisting several balloons into goofy hats for the girls. For their parts, the twins cast a wary, if not warning eye toward Tempest every few seconds. Katie gets a green balloon with a bulbous white eyeball in the middle of the coils, giving her the look of an alien two feet taller than the person wearing the hat. Scarlett receives a pirate hat which is large enough for use as a boat if it were seaworthy. They turn to get their father’s approval as Montague’s plan falls apart before him. The World Champion and the Conquest Champion lock eyes as the other two champs watch carefully. Jacky advances on Donovan, rapidly twisting several multi-colored balloons as she walks. Imaginary daggers fly back and forth between them, and when she’s close enough, she drops the balloons. And boops Donovan on the nose. Ragdoll: See you soon… maybe. With a wink and a belly full of cackling, she turns away to link arms with Tempest. They turn and head toward the minigolf course. Montague clears his throat as Donovan bends down to retrieve the balloons she dropped. Montague: Yes, well… I’ll do what I can Monday. With that, he excuses himself and rushes after his friends. Katie: What are they daddy? Donovan holds them up, and Scarlett is quick to identify one. Scarlett: That’s a giant key! She grabs it and waves it around, looking for all the world like Kairi. Katie examines the other one, mostly long black balloons held together by a circle of yellow ones in the center. Katie: Is it a watch? Donovan shakes his head. Donovan: No. It’s a championship belt. Staring resolutely toward where the AstroCreeps had exited, he hands it off absently to Katie, who immediately wraps it around herself. Katie: I’m the Conquest Champion!!
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