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Slashette and Dusty stumbled into the control room, tripping over half a dozen snoozing figures. "See! I told you we'd find it!" Dusty called excitedly.
"Yeah," Teach agreed, peering at the monitors that continued to record various parts of the building. "I can't believe the flighthawks are so paranoid they're taping each other."
Her partner indicated another screen. "Looks like the faithless watchdog stayed up past his bedtime," she chuckled. There was a live picture of the Frankster asleep on the front lawn, thumb firmly placed in his mouth.
Slashette frowned. "But the 'hawks didn't even share the twinkies with him."
The two looked at each other and shook their heads sadly. They mentally berated
the NBC exec who felt the need to add "sex appeal" to the team.
In another portion of the compound...
Peaches and SJS were wandering around the TV room doing a little investigative digging of their own. "If you were a Murdaholic, where would you hide something?" the jammie stealer asked aloud.
Her fellow TEMPster shivered at the very notion. "Don't ask me! They're too unpredictable to even be unpredictable."
"Huh!" SJS scoffed. "Look at them. How can you say that?" Indeed, the universal baseball caps and high tops were a constant. "Can't they ever wear anything else? Highlight their complexions maybe?"
Peaches stared for a moment at the unmoving forms. "hmmm... this gives me an idea. I'll be right back!" She fled the room like a bat out of hell.
The remaining (conscious) individual shrugged and turned her attention to the groups' assortment of videos. "Crap... crap... this looks promising... nope, crap..." The collection of cartoons continued to hit the ground. "How old are these people, anyhow?"
Huffing and puffing from the jog, Peaches returned just then with a shiny pair of
scissors. "Now we can have some fun!"
Meanwhile, in yet another room...
Ace and Wildchild hit the jackpot. "There they are!" the two cried in unison as they spotted the pajamas hanging in a lit display case. They quickly scrambled over and started banging on the partition.
All at once a loud voice boomed "STOP!" The two were startled by the unseen source and began looking around.
"Who said that?" Ace demanded when their search turned up no one.
"Fellow TEMPsters! It's me, Slashette!" Capt. Wildchild turned worriedly to her cohort. "Could this be just another Nighttwit distraction?"
"Knock it off, you two!" Dusty's voice broke in. "There's a camera over your left shoulder. We're watching you from the control room."
"What's the group motto?"
"Oh, for cryin' out loud..." Teach answered over the speakers, "'We lie, we cheat, we steal - and we get no respect!' Satisfied?"
Wildchild nodded. "For the moment." Ace waved tentatively in the direction of the camera.
"In any case, those aren't the jammies we're looking for."
The duo glanced back at the shiny pink attire. "What do you mean?"
"Look at the tag."
They did. "Seventy-five percent polyester!" They shrieked in horror.
Returning to the control room...
Slashette and Dusty continued to cringe at the sound of the screams. It was difficult watching two of their own in pain.
"Those damn Flighthawks have just gone too far this time!" Dusty hollered. "Trying to substitute our 100% pure, silk jammies like that! Well, they've just gone too far, that's all."
Discouraged, but not defeated, Teach let her eyes roam over the other monitors. She spotted The Man and Cuke rummaging through the individual bedrooms. Kamikaze and Otter were staging mock fights with different sock puppets. On the last screen SJS was tying shoelaces of the unconscious 'hawks together with an evil grin. Across the room Peaches was leaning over the hapless shape of Murdock.
"What's she doing?" Dusty wanted to know. They watched in amazement as the great Peach pulled away to examine her work.
"We'd better erase these tapes," Slashette managed to get out despite her awe.
Sometime later...
Everyone gathered in the main hallway. So far no luck. No pjs. The Man was looking pretty down and his girls all tried to comfort him. Except Peaches who ran off in search of Murdock's room murmuring something about "finding the stash". Dusty and Slashette exchanged knowing glances.
Suddenly, the front door was thrown open. "Hey, where is everybody?" a new voice called.
Illyana stepped into the hall to find a group of stunned TEMPsters staring at her. "Why aren't you-" Otter began. "I mean, where have you been?"
"Sparks sent me out with a list of errands to run." The new arrival frowned. "What are you all doing in headquarters?"
The scammers looked at one another.
"Redecorating."
"We were invited."
"Maydock said they'd hand the jammies back over."
"Yeah! Do you know where they are?"
Illyana was unconvinced. She sprinted for the TV room to find a superior. The TEMPsters followed suit.
"What happened here!" the nightworm sobbed. She gestured at the tied sneakers and inside-out caps. Her gaze fell on her leader and she freaked. "HIS SHIRT!"
Murdock lay sprawled across the couch, a portion of his tee-shirt missing. A pair of scissors having cut away the insane message. The traumatized youngster turned back to the group, sputtering helplessly.
SJS, half-crazy herself because of the missing jammies, decided to take matters into her own hands. "All right, you asked for it!" She bent down and made a motion, snatching an invisible figure from the air. "Either you tell us what we want to know.," Her hands clenched tighter. "or Billy here gets it..."
"NO! NO! Not my dog, Billy! Please! I’ll do whatever you want!" gasped Murdock in horror. The sight of his little invisible pal being slowly choked to death (well, okay, so TEMP Agent Serenity had inadvertently latched her hands around his tail - how was she to know?) was more then the schizophrenic, delusional, obsessive-compulsive neurotic could stand.
The rest of the TEMPs had gathered around her for support and protection - though the Nighthawk Commandos looked a bit unthreatening at the moment with their hightops laced together and their hats inside out. If there was one thing a good TEMP agent never did it was underestimate the sneakiness of the nightworms.
"Yeah, well, I’ll release him on one condition!" Serenity growled. Peaches leaned in and whispered urgently in the frantic TEMPster’s ear.
"Oh, good thought," SJS remarked, eyes shining. "TWO conditions! I mean."
"Anything! Anything I promise!" screeched the Flighthawk leader. Murdock pleaded on his knees, shirt cut out, baseball hat askew. He looked so forlorn, the TEMPs almost felt sorry for him.
"First - you hand over those jammies - untouched - unhurt. If there is so much as a single thread out of place, the little dog here - somewhere - woofs his last!"
Murdock, eyes brimming with tears of concern, immediately sent his commandos, Illyana and Maydock, to retrieve the garment.
"No, wait!" Captain Wildchild cried. "Not them! They have no respect for The Man. Um," she scanned the assembled flighthawks but found none worthy to touch the sacrosanct garment. "You, Murdock - you get them. It’s a stretch but I can find no other here worthy to bring us the jammies."
Nervously, the pilot agreed. "Okay, okay - wait right here - I’ll go get them. Don’t hurt Billy!" he wailed and disappeared, somewhat stiffly since he couldn’t move his feet very well with the shoelaces tied together.
"Ace, Slashette - you go with him and make sure they are the REAL jammies, not another polyester imitation."
"I better go too; there’s only one person who can tell if they’re really MY jammies and that’s me!" The Man announced.
"Right!" One to either side of their brave Man, the two TEMPs agreed and trailed the stumbling Nighthawk down the hall.
Sockzilla, after freeing her feet and adjusting her bent-up hat, came forward, palms outstretched in a show of appeasement. "What is your other demand?" she asked warily.
Peaches stood shoulder to shoulder with Serenity and they smiled evilly at each other.
"We found something of yours that needs to be returned," Agent Peaches said nobly.
"Yes," Serenity agreed. "We are appalled at the treatment you give one of your very own founding members. We insist you welcome him back into your organization with open arms."
Captain Wildchild, Kamikaze, Otter, Cuke and Dusty sniggered.
"Cuke, Dusty, brave TEMPs, go fetch the second condition," Captain Wildchild ordered.
Cuke and Dusty exchanged hesitant, disgusted looks.
"Uh, can’t we make one of the Flighthawks go get him? I mean, he is one of them and I don’t really think he should be in the same room as the jammies anyway. You know how delicate silk is - if a molecule of that hairgrease he has on gets near them - well, I’m sure it won’t be a pretty sight," reasoned Agent Dusty, Cuke nodding her head vigorously in agreement.
"Oh, fine - you there! Sparks! Nightcrawler! Out on the lawn you’ll find the second condition. Bring him in here and I don’t want any arguments! Got it?" Captain Wildchild was adamant.
Knowing there was no way around the task, Sparks and Nightcrawler sulked out the front doors.
"I’m gonna go make sure they don’t try and pull a fast one," muttered Agent Otter, who trotted off after the duo.
At that moment, Murdock, followed by Slashette, Ace and The Man reappeared. The Flighthawk Commando leader was looking mooney-eyed and oddly flushed. Ace and Slashette were just plain flushed. They were sputtering incoherently as they gaped at The Man. All eyes in the TV room turned to watch the group’s entrance.
Then all mouths dropped open in adoration and lust.
There, approaching from the hallway, was a devastatingly handsome, slender, shimmering vision clad in precious silk. Face seemed unaware of the stir he was causing, but glanced up as a murmur of approval and homage rippled through the assembled persons. He paused in adjusting the pale pink sleeve of his 100% pure silk jammies.
"What? What is it?" he asked, suddenly wary. He twisted around to look at his delectable backside. "Is there a piece of lint or something on here?"
Ace and Slashette had stumbled their way over to stand with the rest of the TEMPs as they stared in awe.
"He...he...he," Ace struggled to speak. "He...changed...we...saw....I ...I...know why he never shows underwear lines..." She managed to croak out before collapsing in a faint (though she was wearing a very large grin).
Captain Wildchild shook herself out of the trance.
"He did what!?!?!?" she gasped.
"Right in front of you?!?!?" cried Peaches.
"Oooooooo........." Agent Kamikaze hit the floor alongside the unconscious Ace.
"TEMPS! We must be strong! Slashette, what happened? Slashette? Slashette? Teach? Hello?" Wildchild moved in front of the stunned TEMP agent. She waved her hand in front of the unseeing eyes. "Uh-oh - I think she’s gone catatonic..."
"Oh well that’s just great!" cried Cuke. "Now what are we gonna do?"
"Hey, look around ...." whispered Dusty. "I think they’re all under his spell."
Sure enough, the room full of Nighthawks was silent and still. The Man had captivated the commandos.
"Wow...he’s kind of like a secret weapon, huh?" muttered Peaches, trying to tear her eyes away from Face in his silk jammies.
"Hey, hey there one and all! I’m back! The Santana charm is ready for work!" cried a slimy voice from beyond the front door.
"Oh no!" hissed Serenity, keeping a firm grip on the invisible dog.
"What lousy timing!" moaned Peaches. "He’s gonna break the spell!"
The front door flew open and Frankie Santana leaped into the TV room.
"I’m baaaaaack!"
"YIKES!" Slashette exclaimed, "just when you think it's safe to infiltrate Nighthawk Commando Headquarters . . . IT returns!" "Quick," Ace shouted, "someone douse the lights before the glare off his teeth breaks the Commandos out of their trances.
Alas, Ace's warning came too late. A flash of light off Frankie's teeth awoke the Commandos from their catatonic state. Suddenly, the lights went out. The sounds of scuffling were heard in the darkness as the two armies fought for control of the situation. A moment later, the lights are turned back on. The room is filled with TEMPtresses and Commandos scrumming with each other in various headlocks and other wrestling holds.
"Hey?" Frankie asks, "what's going on here?"
"We're playing a game," Serenity spoke up before any of the Commandos could utter a word. "It's called 'Billy Says'. Ya know like 'Simon Says'. And Billy here says all the Nighthawks better play nice and do what they are told if they know what's good for them," The Silk Jammies Stealer threatened, still holding the Commando's beloved invisible dog hostage. The Nighthawks seeing no way out of the situation played along, releasing any TEMP agent they had in their clutches.
"A game?" Frankie questioned, oblivious to what was really happening before his eyes. Though Frankie was an official member of the Nighthawk Commandos, he did not possess the power to see the figments of Murdock's crazy imagination. This left him completely unaware of the perilous situation the Nighthawks were in.
"Hey! You guys are having a party aren't you? Aw man! How come nobody told me?" The special effects man hung his head in sadness. "You Commandos don't seem to want me around. First you leave me on the doorstep of the TEMP agency, then you reduce my Nighthawk duties to Gate Patrol on every other weekend. That's it! I'm going to go live with the TEMP Agents permanently."
The TEMP Agents did not like this terrifying turn of events. The whole purpose of this mission was to retrieve the prized Silk Jammies and get rid of Frankie. They had to think fast.
"No, Frankie. You wouldn't want to do something as drastic as leaving your beloved Nighthawk Commandos!" Dusty spoke up. "You have it all wrong. This is all just a big misunderstanding."
Peaches quickly picked up on the con her fellow agent was setting up. "Yes, you see this is a party for you and you're late. Didn't you get your embossed invitation?"
"No," he replied. "You guys really did all this for me?" the greasy-haired one asked.
"Of course," KC reassured him. "They ordered a big cake and there is a huge stack of presents for you over there. They even went all out and hired the TEMP Agency to plan this party with the flare and style only a TEMPtress can possess. Now that you're here, we can play pin the tail on Wacko."
"Wait a minute," Frankie uttered in a moment of disbelief. "I thought all that stuff was for a surprise party for Murdock."
"Er, that's what the Nighthawks wanted you to believe," Cuke responded. "They knew it was going to be hard to keep such a wonderful surprise hidden from you, so they had to fib a little."
"And just to show you how much the Nighthawks love having you around," Otter added "Murdock has a special surprise for you. He knows how much you admire his tiger jacket so he agreed to let you wear it whenever you want to."
"Oh you guys" Frankie smiled, all teary eyed. "You like me - you really like me. I take back everything I said and I promise never to leave the Nighthawk Commandos again!" He went to the closet and put on the tiger jacket before occupying himself with opening the pile of presents on the other side of the room.
A shudder went though each of the Commandos at the sight of their leader's prized jacket adoring the ponytailed one. This was a nightmare, but they know there was no way out. They hung their heads in defeat and went along with the devilish demands.
"By the way," announced Ace, a smug grin on her face, "there is now a strict dress code at the TEMP Agency. No vests allowed. Sorry, I guess that means Frankie can't come over anymore."
"You may have outwitted us this time" Sparks threatened with a smile on her face, "but there will always be a next time."
"Ahhhh" Capt. Wildchild sighed, rubbing her hands together. "Another mission accomplished." She addressed the Nighthawks, "We've had a lovely time, but I think we've overstayed our welcome. And I know you all have a lot of catching up to do with Frankie. Billy will escort until we are safely outside. Bye."
"I'm proud of you ladies," THE MAN said to his TEMPtresses as they left
Nighthawk headquarters, "you know I'm naked without my Silk Jammies. You
put your lives on the line and endured all that time with Frankie for
me. This calls for a celebration. Let's go home and break out the
bubbly, I think it's time for Pajama party.
THE END??????????