Chapters 16 and 17, by Susanne

Chapter Sixteen: The Narrator Steps In

I guess by now you’re all a little confused as to what, if anything, is happening to the Teen Girls in this story so far. Luckily there is still one person who can clear this up, and that person is me: the Narrator. Omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, omnivorous, and omelet cooker extraordinaire. I’m going to explain what I should have explained a very long time ago.

In one of many Iron Butt related mishaps, the Teen Girl Squad has become the world’s loudest rock band. They have been lucky enough to encounter many of their influences, and friends along the way to becoming a very popular band as well, which of course does not make them pop music per say, because we are all aware that pop music will eventually collapse upon itself so like many untalented cardboard boxes. Cardboard boxes those popstars will one day be living in, which is not nearly as fun as it is to pretend. The Teen Girls know this, and they are staying out of it. In fact, they have become more popular than any other non-pop band in history without an official group name.

At this point in their career, the Teen Girls have sold many an album, held many a concert, and lost many a pair of underwear. They have now settled down with old friend Ringo Starr to create an entirely original movie, appropriately dubbed ‘Mobula’, in which a Russian mafia who have long ago been turned to vampires, have now been cursed again to become a large purple octopus for reasons that were never really meant to be clear to anyone. Use your damn imagination.
Anyway, it was stated clearly enough in an earlier chapter that the initial plan of the Man of the East, with her new sidekick, Kraft Italian-Styled mashed potato mix (nothing like a nutritious and delicious insta-meal to kick start a day of evil), and to some extent, Duffman, was to destroy the vast potential of the Teen Girl’s movie genious by sending them a real Russian-vampire-mafia turned to an octopus. At some point they became trapped on an island of ice cream. The Narrator does not remember why. The Man of the East’s second plan was of course thwarted by the good timing of old friend Big Furry Russian who, with the experience of being both big and Russian, was the perfect choice to play the role. Efforts have continued since to plant a better Mobula on the cast. They have all failed due to the closeness of the BFR and TGS, which the MOTE obviously does not understand. In a last attempt to see them at least inconvenienced in some way, The Man of the East merely kidnapped all four girls and hid them, unsupervised and fairly out of the way in the basement of her South Atlantic hideaway. She is now sitting in her solarium with Duffman, sipping Chamomile and deciding what, if anything, is going to happen now.

Chapter Seventeen: And While This Was Happening…

The cave was dark and pretty typical of an evil cave when you think about it. Really more of a cavern actually. Dripping ceiling, though very spacious and could be a potential area for a timeshare of some kind should the teen girls ever escape. Typical though, but then again typical sells very easily these days. Susanne’s critical movie making eye swept back and forth again. Ridiculous. Investment opportunity or not, this was an inconvenience, and for that someone was definitely going to be fired. FIRED!

“Susanne!” hissed Heather. Eyes adjusting to the gloom with super speed, Susanne directed her attention to the left where she could just make out Heather. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Six hundred a week to start, and then jack up the price when someone famous moves in! We’ll have it made!”
“…Not exactly. I thought it was pretty obvious, but okay, we’ve been kidnapped.”
“Oh crap!”
“Ya. Are Emily and Alison awake?”
“No.” Susanne wriggled in her seaweed chains, “Maybe it’s for the best. I have a feeling at least one of them would be pretty grossed out by this.”
“Ya, seaweed is gross.”
“Ya.”

Susanne continued wriggling, and there was a long pause, slightly awkward as both girls knew it meant the other had no idea what to do about anything. Heather went over the details she remembered before blacking out. Purpling out. The Man of the East was most likely to blame. Here they were in a large underwater cavern. Or was the Man of the East to blame? All of this was just a bit too clever. Seaweed chains, bubble cages… and not a bit of ice cream to be seen. It was all just very unlikely to be planned and carried out by the Man of the East. Then again, two of the kidnappees were not unconscious. That had to mean she was at least involved. So there was hope.

“Susanne,” said Heather, who was now cooking up a plan. “Susanne?” Of course that plan included the other conscious teen girl, and without her the plan would need some serious modifying. “SUSANNE!?” Heather sat quietly for a moment trying to pick up any sound she could. There was something she couldn’t quite make out. A kettle boiling? No, more like screaming. Screaming and laughing. From a distance though, and moving very quickly. Wind whistled in Heather’s ears, and without the ability to see clearly in the purple haze she could only assume that something had just burned past her, grazing the bubble which rocked her back and forth. The laughter faded slightly, and then returned much louder. Heather’s bubble was knocked again, this time very wildly.
The bubble rolled slowly at first and Heather, already greatly concerned with the hysterical laughter that surrounded her, was now equally worried about the bubble, specifically its lack of consideration for things such as friction, gravity, and her personal safety.
Large rocks leapt into her limited vision split seconds before collisions that sent Heather flying in all directions, faster and faster, with the never ending laughter though it was apparent to her now that the screaming was her own. For a minute she was struck, for a change, with her resemblance an old pet ‘Pinball’ the Hamster. Guilt was now added to her list of emotions, though she herself was racking up points like crazy.
Heather suddenly became aware that the laughter was again headed straight for her. As all attempts at guiding the bubble before had failed, tied up as she was, Heather braced herself for another stunning blow and at the last moment was faced with Susanne, apparently in a similar situation though enjoying it immensely. In that split second Heather realized what had happened, and a second later they were free. The bubbles popped, like the dreams of so many aspiring artists, leaving them badly bruised in a pile of themselves. Susanne was still laughing.

“We’re out!” she yelled. Heather was dazed. She shook off the broken strands of seaweed and grabbed Susanne around the neck.
“WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?”
“Relax Heather! This doesn’t really count as first base!”
“DO THINK THAT’S FUNNY? YOU’RE TRYING TO KILL ME!! FLYING ALL OVER THE PLACE LIKE THAT-”
“Look!” Susanne pointed out beyond the rocky beach inside the cavern. Some odd yellow, glowing thing was moving conspicuously across the water and watching them closely.

Heather felt the suspense rising once again, but Susanne seemed unusually hopeful. She crawled out of Heather’s grip and scrambled down to the shore as the small, yellow thing rose out of the water to reveal itself as a large, yellow submarine. Ringo appeared from a hatch on the top and met them half way. At first, Ringo attempted to explain the complex mechanisms in the submarine that allowed him to find them so quickly, and Heather tried to explain that the plan she had come up with was exactly this in every detail. The lights from the sub showed the cavern to be much larger and purple than they had guessed at first, as well as Alison and Emily still unconscious in their bubble cages. One could say ‘the main deal’ was to get them out so that they could just leave and figure out what the heck was going on.

“Not a problem girls,” said Ringo digging through his pockets. “It just so happens that I have some special dust that will set them loose… if I could just… oh dear.” Ringo had become tangled in his coat through a series of reaching through holes in pockets, into other pockets, which also had holes, and into another pocket, which was really more of a big hole. “So much for that idea.” He sighed.
Susanne and Heather started pushing the bubbles together, but they seemed nearly impossible to break. The idea of sending them spinning all over the cave with the occupants already worse off than they were likely to be from an experience like that was one idea. Luckily, Ringo had another.
“I think I saw this in a movie once.” He said, and ripped a hole entirely out of his coat and planted it on the side of Emily’s bubble.
Air rushed into the cage, instantly reviving Emily. They dragged her out, which strangely enough popped the bubble and sent them all flying. They would just have to be more careful next time. Ringo ripped out another hole and pulled out Alison, which popped the bubble and sent them all flying just as badly. But at least they didn’t have to do it again.
Now all that was left to do was escape easily enough in the yellow submarine. Easily enough if not for the evil laughter and breathless giggling that surrounded them. Things smelled suspiciously like a showdown.