Finally all was quiet in the TEMP agency. It had been an exhausting and eventful day. Somehow those pesky Nighthawks had managed to infiltrate the agency and get past the alarms into the hallowed shrine where the Silk Jammies were encased. Not only had they stolen the TEMP’s most sacred possession, but the nudniks had managed to flood the place in the process.

Face leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. Slashette and SJS had lovingly towel dried his wet tresses since BA still had his hair dryer. Then they gently combed it into place while Ace tenderly massaged the kinks out of his aching back. The others had all pitched in to see that he was well taken care of and comfortable after today’s crisis. While he relaxed under the devoted and lavish attention of his girls, the esteemed leader of TEMP began to formulate a plan for retrieval of his jammies. Gathering all the agents around him he related his scheme as the girls all nodded in agreement.

Across town at Nighthawk headquarters…

The nighthawks were all enjoying their recent adventure

"Did you see the look on Faceman as soon as those sprinklers went off?" Sparks laughingly asked her partners-in-crime. "It was priceless!"

"Yes" agreed Maydock "and I don’t believe that I have ever seen the TEMPs move that fast." as she recalled the evacuation of their rival’s headquarters.

Triple R didn’t join in the gales of laughter, but sat in silence with a slight frown creasing her forehead.

Sparks noticed her fellow nighthawk deep in concentration and commented, "Look Range Ryder, I know that you’re upset that we couldn’t figure out a way to saddle the TEMPs with Frankie, but all-in-all it was a successful venture."

Rousted from her thoughts, RRR stood up and began pacing nervously back and forth in front of the others, she looked around at her associates and quietly spoke.

"You know they will retaliate, and they know that we know they will retaliate. And knowing that they know that we know that they know that we know…."

Thunderbird broke in "Geesh… Range your giving me a headache worse than Tree’s coffee."

"Hey!!" broke in Tree, "it wasn’t my fault that Maydock place the cup she was trying to force down Frankie, near yours."

Yeah, but if you would be more careful when…"

As the sounds of the argument began to drown out Triple R still spouting "…they know that we know…" Sparks loudly interrupted "Guys, can we please have some quiet."

All eyes turned to their 2nd in command and stared.

"Now, Range has a point. The TEMPs will no doubt try and get their prized pajamas back, however I don’t believe they will try until after Thanksgiving and since our venerable leader has a birthday coming up, we have lots and lots of work to do, so let’s not worry about the TEMPtresses."

All the Nighthawks sobered at this discourse and listened as their individual jobs were assigned.

November 24 12:00 pm

In the kitchen at TEMP HQ, there was much frivolity taking place. Agent Otter leaned over the counter and reached for the bowl of frosting that Cpt. Wildchild was holding and eyeing hungrily.

"Wildchild, you’re supposed to be spreading that icing not eating it," admonished Otter.

Grinning sheepishly, Wildchild replied "Well, I can’t help it tutti fruiti is my favorite." She sighed, "It just seems a shame to waste it all on the Flighthawks."

"But remember," Dusty broke in "it’s all for a good cause."

Peaches nodded in assent and then snickered "I think the flavor is appropriate."

Gales of laughter rippled through the kitchen just as Face entered to check on their progress. "Well girls, how’s it coming?"

SJS gave him a thumbs up sign "Couldn’t be better."

"It would be better if we were using whip cream." Slashette commented and was immediately sorry she spoke as Ace dug an elbow into her ribs.

"Shhhh…. This is the wrong story Slashette!" whispered Ace.

"What’s that girls?" queried Face.

"Nothing sir." Ace replied. "Agent Slashette was just busy planning your surprise for Hannibal’s next birthday."

Breathless, Slashette could only glare at Ace and nod her head in agreement.

"Ahhh…" he concurred , still a little confused, "no use waiting til the last minute. Carry on"

Several of the girls were still adding frosting to touch up the edges. As she was still spreading Kamikaze questioned her TEMP leader "Why are "we" fixing Murdock’s birthday cake?"

Placing an arm around her shoulders, Face patiently explained. "Kamikaze, didn’t you study The Book of TEMPtation?"

As she shuffled in embarrassment, "THE MAN" went on

"Remember, I told you the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach; and the fastest way to break security is…"

"Through the kitchen!" all the TEMPsters chimed in.

"Oh…" Kamikaze nodded in understanding. She had really known the answer all along, but loved how Face always put his arm around his girls when he wanted to illustrate a point.

Cuke gazed admiringly on their creation as she placed the last of the icing on top and then stepped aside so all could see.

"It’s perfect, those crazy Flighthawks will never know what hit ‘em."

The TEMPtresses and their leader viewed their work of art with pride.

"I would love to see the look on Murdock’s face when he cuts into that." Face laughed.

November 24 6:00 pm

Nighthawk Frankie was on sentry duty as the large bakery truck pulled into the driveway that evening. Written on the side of the van was the name "ConTEMPorary Bakers" in big bold letters. Too busy muttering to himself, Frankie didn’t even notice the vehicle as it waited outside the gate.

Staring impatiently at the dim-witted commando Peaches leaned over to Dusty who was driving and asked "What’s taking him so long?"

Dusty shook her head in confusion. "He’s just pacing back and forth and mumbling "toilet paper.. toilet paper…" I sure am glad he’s on their side" as she leaned on the horn.

"Huh?" Frankie looked up, his concentration broken by the sound of the horn. He walked over to the window of the bakery truck. "Can I help you ladies?" he flashed a huge smile, baring all of his glowing white teeth.

Dusty and Peaches knew, from their extensive TEMP training, not to look directly at the teeth of the greasy-haired commando. One glint of sunlight of his pearly whites could cause permanent eye damage, possibly even blindness.

"Sure!" Dusty answered, staring at Frankie's ear to save herself from injury. "We have a delivery here for someone named H.M. Murdock."

"Delivery?" the dumbfounded commando scratched his oily head in confusion. "I wasn't told about any delivery! What is it?"

Peaches responded, "Its a birthday cake for a surprise party tomorrow."

"Surprise party? I wasn't told about any surprise party." The special effects man turned toward Nighthawk Headquarters. "They never tell me anything," he said of his comrades. " If I had half a mind, I'd think that they were trying to get rid of me."

The last thing the two TEMP agents needed was to deal with trying to resolve Frankie's emotional Nighthawk identity crisis.

Peaches promptly used her TEMP charm to get out of the impending situation. "Well, by definition, it wouldn't be a surprise if you knew about it. Would it?"

"Hey. You're right. I'm talking crazy (which is a common occurrence among the Nighthawks). They love me. I'm a loveable guy. No one can resist the Santana Charm."

"Er yeah!" Peaches nodded. "Think you could use that charm to open the gate? THE MAN, er, boss doesn't like it when we get off schedule."

Frankie was about to hit the button to open the gate, allowing the TEMP agents to infiltrate the Nighthawk Headquarter grounds, when a thought struck him (which doesn't happen to often and makes his head hurt).

"Wait!" the bumbling commando shouted. "Nighthawk Commando Headquarters is a secret hideout. How'd you get the address?"

"It says so right here on the receipt." Dusty showed Frankie the work order. "See it says 'Attention Flighthawks, er, I mean Nighthawk Commandos. Deliver to Secret Headquarters."

"Oh, right. That makes sense." The bungling Commando smiled and waved the truck through.

So far, so good. THE MAN's plan was working perfectly. Dusty drove the bakery truck up to the delivery entrance hoping that her leader and the remaining TEMP Agents were doing okay hidden within the cake. Continuing with the scam, certain that none of the Nighthawks would recognize them as TEMP agents in their elaborate costumes - blue overalls and red baseballs hats - the two ladies knocked on the door.

"Can I help you?" Maydock asked, after opening the door.

"We have a cake delivery for an H.M. Murdock," replied Dusty handing over the receipt.

"We didn't order any cake," Sparks said joining her fellow commando at the door. "This could be some kind of trick. Check the truck."

Maydock and Sparks, accompanied by Range Ryder, went out to inspect the bakery vehicle. They look on the roof, under the vehicle, and lastly in the back storage compartment. All they found was an enormous cake, lavishly decorated.

"Um, I believe it's a gift. There's a card." Peaches handed Sparks a embossed envelope.

The lead Commando opened the envelope and read the card out loud. The were only two written words - Happy Birthday - and some initials which were scribbled and unintelligible. "I can't make out the initials. I can't tell who it's from." She passed the card around for her companions to examine.

"I bet it's from BA," Maydock offered. "He's worried that we won't have enough cake to go around at the party tomorrow. You know what an angry mudsucker he can be when he doesn't get a second helping of cake."

"No. I think Hannibal sent it," Triple R put in. "He always wants to do stuff with flare."

"You're both wrong," Sparks interjected. "It's probably from Face. He and his band of TEMP Agents probably want to make amends, knowing they can never win. This is a just peace offering to get the Silk Jammies back. I guess we'll just have to wait until the party tomorrow to see who sent it. Let's get it inside."

The two TEMPTresses maneuvered the cake inside to the kitchen and pushed into an out of the way corner.

"Maybe we should put it in the fridge so it'll keep better until tomorrow," Sparks suggested.

"Ah no! I don't think that is such a good idea," Dusty spoke up quickly.

"She's right!" Peaches tried to think fast, "The frosting will get all hard and crusty. You'd better keep it at room temperature for the best results."

"Thanks for the warning, but if we don't lock it up in the fridge it will probably become a midnight snack for Billy and Thunder. There won't be any left for us tomorrow."

The rest of the Nighthawks agreed and locked the cake into a huge refrigerated room.

"Oh" Dusty remembered, "there is something else in the truck for you guys." She walked out and returned a moment later with a huge bakery box which she placed on the counter. "When your friend placed the order he got this free with the amount of purchase, only he wouldn't leave a home address where we could deliver them. So you can have them to."

"What is it?" Sparks asked.

"Three dozen homemade Twinkies." Peaches answered. "You and your friends should splurge. Why save them for the party? Besides they'll probably go stale if they are not eaten right away.

"Great idea," Triple R agreed, eyeing the yellow cake delicacies. "Murdock and the other Commandos are in the TV room watching Woody Woodpecker on the Cartoon Network. This would be a perfect snack."

"Thanks for stopping by," Maydock said ushering Dusty and Peaches out the door.

"What? No tip?" Dusty quipped.

"Oh sorry. I got a tip for you," Range Ryder offered. "Don't leave your chewing gum on the bedpost overnight, it might lose its flavor." And with that comment she shut the door.

Dusty and Peaches couldn't help but worry about THE MAN and their fellow agents sitting in the cake locked in the cold refrigerator. They didn't have much time to save them. The sleeping pills mixed into the filling of the Twinkies had better hurry up and take effect on the Nighthawks or the TEMP Agency was doomed.

After what seemed like an eternity - the scam worked. All the Nighthawks including their leader, Murdock, were snoozing quietly in the TV room.

Time for the TEMP Agents to make their move. Peaches quickly picked the lock on the door to the kitchen and Dusty ran to let the others out of their icy jail. She popped the hidden lever hidden under a pink frosted rose and the two halves of the cake split apart to release the agents cooped up inside.

"Is everybody okay?" Dusty asked, worriedly.

"Any signs of frostbite, shock, hypothermia?" Peaches questioned.

"Of course not," Face answered. "What kind of gentlemen would I be if I let my TEMPtresses freeze? You know body heat is your best resource when your stranded in a cold place."

Peaches and Dusty wondered if they had gotten the bum end of this deal as the other TEMP agents stood and stretched their legs.

"Yeah," Captain Wildchild put in. "Things were starting to get a bit steamy in there."

Slashette noticed a supply of Cool Whip on one of the shelves. "Allright!! She put an armful of plastic tubs into the cake." She noticed the bemused look from her fellow agents and replied with a glint in her eye. "Well we have to have something to do when we get back in the cake in order to escape."

"No time for fantasies now!" SJS brought their minds back to the mission at hand. "We must find the Jammies!"

"Yes, that's right, girls, we have to find those jammies or I'll be forced to sleep in the buff from now on," The Man began, not realizing the unintended effect his words had had on the group. "We don't want that, do we?"

The TEMPsters thought long and hard about their choices.

Ace was the first to jump to the challenge. "We can't let the Flighthawks get away with this abuse!" This spirited proclamation was greeted by a chorus of cheers. She continued, "Now we need to split up and search this place!"

Cuke's eyes lit up. "Yes, yes! Good idea! Templeton and I will take this direction!" and she quickly took The Man's hand and led him off before anyone could stop them.

"Damn." K.C. cursed, devastated.

Wildchild nudged her from behind. "Come on, the sooner we start looking the sooner we'll get Him back."

So they broke up into small groups and began taking their first looks around the not-so-secret hideout.

continued on page 2...

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