Batwoman & Flamebird: the Bikini Caper

[franco99]

**another quickie...just something that didn't fit the running stories**

Out front of Madame Troffant's Bikini Boutique, the familiar suped-up motorcycle with sidecar was parked on the occasion of the unveiling of Madame Troffant's latest swimwear line. The dynamic duo weren't there to shop, although they could certainly fill out a swimsuit as well as any model, they were on hand at the request of Police Commissioner Hamilton. Since Madame Troffant was one of Gotham's most famous residents, as her bikini designs were worn worldwide and the fashion world waited each year for her latest creations, her demands for extra police protection were heeded promptly. Madame Troffant, an elderly, but elegant silver-haired woman in her late 50's carried herself with the grace of royalty. Despite her diminutive size, standing a petite 4'11 in heels, she was truly a giant in the field of fashion. Her small shop in downtown Gotham was being visited by photographers from a couple of select magazines to view this sneak preview of her latest work. What they would see today would be worn on beaches from Los Angeles to Rio de Janerio in a matter of months.
As Batwoman and Flamebird entered the shop, Madame Troffant stepped forward to eagerly greet them.
"Batwoman...Flamebird, how wonderful it is to see you on this glorious occasion," gushed Madame Troffant.
"'Tis a pleasure, Madame," Batwoman replied graciously. "Tell me why you requested our prescene at this fashion show..."
"Those bumbling boobs we call Gotham's finest rely on your help whenever there is a serious problem," sneered Madame Troffant with contempt. "This little event is too important to leave to amateurs, that's why I asked for you."
"Our policemen are hardly amateurs, Madame," countered Batwoman. "But what do you have to fear? You've held these grand unveiling for years without incident."
"Yes, but I recently fired one of my best known models," Madame Troffant whispered seriously. "A Cindy Shaffer. She started running with a dangerous crowd, bikers, mobsters, and such, and I can't have the image of my product associated with someone so close to running afoul of the law."
"Cindy Shaffer?," Flamebird interrupted, "I've seen her in the fashion magazines. But you've fired models before, I'm sure, why worry about her?"
"Well, I've been receiving threatening letters in the mail and threats posted on the door of my boutique when I arrive in the morning," Madame Troffant explained as she produced the stack of said letters. "They are always anonymous, but they mention ruining this sneak preview as revenge."
"Hmmm...," Batwoman noted as she grabbed the letters to view them for herself, "Is there anyone else who harbors a grudge against you?"
"Just the entire industry because of my success," boasted Madame Troffant, "but Ms. Shaffer is the most likely suspect...very few people knew of this event, prominently mentioned in those letters, and Cindy most certainly knew."
"So, we're here to protect you from a 105 lb. supermodel, is that right?," snapped Flamebird. "Maybe she'll stay away if I threaten to mess up her makeup or force her to eat something that has more than 50 calories."
"That's enough, Flamebird," Batwoman snapped back. "Your attitude and sharp tongue are most certainly not welcome on any occassion, especially when fighting crime."
Flamebird crossed her arms and rolled her eyes like the rebellious teenager she was as Madame Troffant continued to explain her plight.
"The grand unveiling of my latest swimwear will be done in two weeks on a prime-time network special," Madame Troffant pleaded. "It will be the biggest event of my illustrious career and any disruptions today or any signs of trouble will make the network people nervous...and they'll pull the plug on my special."
"So why not postpone or cancel this photo shoot?," inquired Batwoman.
"You don't know much about the fashion world, Batwoman" explained Madame Troffant. "You call the trendest magazines and give them a small taste to whet the appetite of the public...its all about showmanship...and if I cancel, these photographers will never forgive such a snub..."
"I understand," Batwoman said calmly. "So what do you want Flamebird and I to do?"
"Just stand behind the photographers, who'll be in the front of my little stage," Madame Troffant explained. "I'll introduce you as honored guests and start the show. I just need a strong prescene and you two command the strongest prescene in Gotham City."

As the small showing began, with only three photographers snapping shots, Batwoman and Flamebird retired to the back of the boutique. They both thought this assignment was boring and just a bit demeaning. After all, the dynamic duo were famed crime-fighters, not security guards. The photographers seemed a bit distracted as the women behind them were lovelier than the women they were photographing. Batwoman, the raven haired beauty, cut a stylishly curvy figure in her yellow leotard and red gloves, cowl, boots, and cape. Flamebird was the picture of the wholesome girl-next-door with her short blonde hair and body hugging red leotard with yellow eyemask, cape, gloves, and boots. Some of the photogs turned to snap pictures of the superheroines instead of the supermodels. The photo flashes made our heroines a bit uncomforable and seemed to greatly anger the Grande Dame of the Bikini.
Ten minutes into the sneak preview, two tall leggy models took to the small stage. One was an olive skinned Brazilian beauty with long black curly hair in a simple yellow bikini that contrasted nicely with her darker skin. The other was a bouncy trim pale-skinned redhead in a matching black bikini. As they approached the stage, the sound of a ping pong ball sized capsule striking the wooden stage couldn't be detected from the sounds of cameras rapidly clicking off shots. Beneath the two models' high-heeled feet, a plume of white smoke emerged from the broken capsule. The smoke quickly enveloped the two bikini babes on the stage and obscured anyone from seeing what was going on behind them. The models were heard coughing as a shapely female figure took to the stage. It was only a shadow at first, but as the smoke dissipated, a sexy woman was cloaked in a skin-tight black bodystocking and a black ski mask. The Brazilian brunette and the redhead were bent over at the waist, still trying to get the surprise smoke bomb gas out of their lungs. As the smoke cleared and the trio on stage came into a clearer view, one could see that the two models had had their bikini tops removed and the black bodystockinged interloper held them aloft as if she were displaying a great prize.
"Get a shot of that, boys" the bodystocking beauty announced. "They won't be needing these anymore."
"Holy Girls Gone Wild, Batwoman," Flamebird shouted. "Cindy Shaffer...let's get her."
"Right...let's just say we didn't think that prank was very funny," fumed a disgusted Batwoman.
The coughing from the two models onstage soon turned to screams as they realized they were topless before the photo snapping press. They covered up with their hands and fled in panic. The shapely figure in black, upon spying Batwoman and Flamebird, also fled to the back. With the dynamic duo in pursuit, the bodystockinged prankster ran into the dressing room area instead of toward the back exit. Upon seeing the villainess' mistake, Batwoman and Flamebird knew this chase would truly be a short one. The door of the lone dresing room at the rear of the store was flung open as the mystery girl entered in flight. Our heroines skidded to a stop at the dressing room door.
"She's cornered herself, Batwoman," Flamebird exhaled after her short sprint. "There's only one dressing room back there. Nowhere to run."
"Exactly, but let's open the door carefully," whispered Batwoman, "she's cornered and scared, no telling what she might do."
"I think we can handle it," boasted a cocky Flamebird as she opened the door of the dressing room.
To the shock of the dynamic duo, the room was empty. The bodystockinged mischief maker had simply vanished.
"Holy Houdini!," exclaimed Flamebird, "Where could she have gone?"
"Strange," reasoned Batwoman, "let's examine this room, there has to be an air vent or some path of escape."
Our costumed caped superfoxes entered the room cautiously and scanned about for hidden doors or vents. They tiptoed lightly and ran their gloved fingers on the walls to feel for anything unusual.
"Huh?," exhaled a confused Flamebird, "there is no way out without using the door, Batwoman."
"That's where you're wrong Teen Wonder," boomed a voice from outside the dressing room area. The voice was that of Madame Troffant.
Upon those cryptic words, the floor beneath the dynamic duo collapsed as the trap door under them was released. The stunned superheroines had no time to realize their peril as they slid down a steep chute into the basement area. The chute had been greased and with the slick material of Batwoman's and Flamebird's costumes, shiny spandex and nylon, they raced at a high speed in the abyss below. A large roll of shrink wrap had been stretched over the opening at the bottom of the slick slide and our heroines hit it with great force as they reached their intended destination. As Batwoman and Flamebird hit the plastic wrap and rolled at high velocity out of the chute, the clinging sheet of plastic wrapped around our heroines and bound them in a tight cocoon. They rolled to a stop on the basement floor as the spool of shrink wrap unwound, releasing more of it's constricting sheets around our wrapped heroines. Batwoman and Flamebird now lay back-to-back on the floor, wrapped from neck to ankles in layers of clear plastic shrink wrap.
"Batwoman!?!," gasped the Teen Wonder, "What happened?"
"Walked...right..into...a Trap!," grunted Batwoman as she struggled to free her arms from the plastic cocoon with no luck.
The two models that had been smoked out with tops removed emerged with their bikini tops intact and portable hair dryers in hand. They giggled as they shot hot air onto the plastic coating that contained the dynamic duo, forcing the wrapping to constrict even tighter.
"A simple...thank...you..will...suffice," groaned a struggling Flamebird, feeling the weight of the plastic growing tighter on her tight bod. "Can't.. move...a muscle."
Our costumed superfoxes squirmed in their plastic bonds as Madame Troffant entered the basement area from above. Grinning like a proud grandmother, she patted her two models on the shoulders for a good well done.
"You!...You're...behind...this, Madame?," shouted a short of breath Batwoman.
"I most certainly am, dynamic duo," Madame Troffant spat evilly. "Before my plan unfolds, I have to eliminate Gotham's famed caped crusaders. And you two walked into my trap perfectly, with a little help from my friend, the Commissioner."
"You...villainous...vixen," cried a crushed Flamebird.
"Indeed, Teen Wonder, indeed," hissed a triumphant Madame. "Now, don't panic because I'm going to need you relaxed...you're going to get the full Madame Troffant spa experience..."
Madame Troffant reached into her handbag and retrieved a small aerosol can, roughly the size of a can of mace. She carefully knelt down on her old legs and placed the nozzle in the direction of Batwoman's cowled face.
"Just a little spray of my Bikini gas and you both will be much more relaxed...," giggled Ms. Troffant.
The squirt of sleeping spray, aimed just under Batwoman's nose, worked quickly as our heroine's face changed from strained to sleeping in less than a second. The still squirming Flamebird soon followed her mentor into dreamland as Madame Troffant shared a spray of Bikini gas for her as well. The cocooned caped crusaders were now also the KO'ed crusaders as they peacefully slept off the effects of Madame Troffant's Bikini gas.
As our heroines slumbered, Madame Troffant signalled for her bikini-clad models, the tan Brazilian and the shapely redhead, to join her.
"Ladies, take these two up to the salon on the top floor of the building," ordered the Madame, "...secure them to the massage tables and start heating the wax...I have a special bikini wax planned for Batwoman and the Teen Wonder, Flamebird."

TO BE CONTINUED....

[superpics4les]

Another lusciously larcenous selection in the making, my friend! Very nice start! Look forward to more of this! 8)

[SGWriter]

Great start trapmaster!

[Doubleb66]

Holy SHRINKWRAP Franco! How will our heroines ever escape from THIS prodigiously perilous pickle? I'll be staying tuned to this bat-channel for further updates! Great work as usual!

[franco99]

In the spacious upstairs spa of Lady Truffant's bikini shop, instead of catering to the whims of the rich and famous, the dynamic duo sleep off a dose of Truffant's bikini gas. Now strapped to massage tables placed next to each other, Batwoman and Flamebird slowly stir as the mind numbing effects of the KO gas begin to subside. Our heroines find themselves laying on their backs with leather straps binding their shoulders, waists, wrists, and ankles to the rubdown tables. Unable to move under their binding bondage, Batwoman and Flamebird squirm in a futile attempt to free themselves.
"Holy headaches, Batwoman," Flamebird groaned, "that bikini gas really packs a wallop...Where are we?!?!"
"It appears, Flamebird, that we're still in Madame Truffant's store," exhaled a struggling Batwoman.
"Can't move...anything...straps...too...tight," grunted a frustrated Girl Wonder.
"I can't move either," Batwoman reasoned. "Nor can I figure out just what Madame Truffant is up to. Why did she lure is into a trap?"
"I don't know, Batwoman," Flamebird wimpered, "but I don't like the looks of things...bound in some sinister spa."
"Amen, Flamebird," agreed Batwoman. "If I could...only...get...a hand...free."

As the bound heroines pulled with all their strength at the leather straps pinning them down, an unwelcome trio of Madame Truffant and her two bikini-clad henchwomen entered the room.

"Ah, I see our guests are awake," Madame Truffant stated grandly as she gestured to her grinning accomplishes.
"What's the meaning of this, Madame Truffant?," shouted an indignant Batwoman as she strained to pull her head from the table to better view her captors. "Why did you kidnap us?"
"For one very simple reason, Batwoman," Madame Truffant said in a scholarly tone, "to eliminate the only obstacles to my plan to enslave the entire nation."
"Enslave the nation?!?," blurted Flamebird with a tone of disbelief. "You've surely baked your brain under that sunlamp."
"Well...you've surely heard of my television special due to air in a couple of weeks," Madame Truffant stated coldly.
"Yeah, so?!?," exclaimed the furious Flamebird.
"When I introduce my newest line of sexy swimwear," Madame Truffant continued, "I'll also introduce a powerful hypnotic sonic wave which will be broadcast to millions. All the viewers will fall victim to my hypnotic sounds and fall completely under my control."
"You heinous heiress," spat a disgusted Batwoman. "You'll never get away with it."
"With no help from you, Batwoman, or your partner, the Girl Wonder," Truffant replied angrily. "Once you're out of the way, who will stop me from getting away with it?"
The shapely redhead in her revealing bright yellow bikini turned the switch on a sinister looking sealed steel steam pot as the Brazilian black bikinied beauty grabbed the spray nozzle connected to the churning steel cylinder by a long hose.
"What the heck is that thing?," squealed a scared Flamebird.
"Just a warming pot of wax, Girl Wonder," giggled the evil bikini baroness. "A complete body waxing is in order for Batwoman...enough to coat every inch of that beautiful bod...covering every pore...until Gotham's greatest crime-fighter suffocates."
"You monster!," cried Flamebird as she lifted her head to see the glee on the faces of the terrible trio. "I've never heard of anything so inhumane."
"Don't worry, Flamebird," Madame Truffant cooed in a mock comforting voice, "I have a different fate in mind for you."
"Tell me, Madame," interrupted a bound Batwoman, "the greatest scientists of our time have failed to master mind-control sonic waves. How can someone with no background in science create these waves AND harness them into a form that can be broadcast over a convention television?"
"I left those details to my partner, my curious friend...," Madame Truffant stated as she stepped aside to reveal the villainous partner now entering the spa.
From the shadows stepped a curvy feminine figure in what appeared to be a smart, yet sexy, business suit. This was no young junior executive making her way into the room as she became more visible as she drew closer. The suit was a garishly bright purple that was complemented by a bright green blouse. What was once a beautiful model was now a patsy white faced clown with shocking red lipstick and hideous green eye shadow. Even more striking than the bright makeup on her white skin was her long flowing locks of green hair. One of Gotham's most dangerous and sinister villainesses was a part of this evil scheme. The villainess with the background in sonic wave technology to pull off what Madame Truffant had described. It was none other than the Jolly Jester, the Jokester.
"YOU!," shouted Flamebird, "You're behind this? I should have known."
"Good to see you again, Girl Wonder," laughed the manicial Jokester, "especially tied and completely helpless."
"Holy poisoned partnerships," sighed a nearly sobbing Flamebird.
"Just how did the two of you get mixed up, if I may ask?," spat Batwoman.
"Well, if you must know, caped crusdaer," giggled the giddy Jokester, "Madame Truffant has a national television showcase and I mastered broadcasting mind control sonic sounds while in prison. Call it a match made in heaven...the swimwear showcase should be a ratings bonanza."
"Enough chit-chat, everyone," screamed an impatient Madame Truffant. "The wax is the perfect temperature and ready to spray."
The bikini-clad lackeys advance on the bound Batwoman as the Brazilian stepped forward with nozzle in hand.
"Please, if you don't spare me," sighed Batwoman, almost resigned to her fate, "spare Flamebird...don't let her face such a terrible finish."
"Ow...how sweet," mocked the jolly Jokester, "but part of my deal with Madame Truffant involved your young sidekick, the Girl Wonder."
"What!?!," gasped Batwoman in horror.
"Yes, I've always felt I needed a sidekick of my own," continued the Jokester, "and now I have a very capable one with plenty of experience."
"Huh!?!," exclaimed a puzzler Flamebird, "I'll never join forces with someone as sinister as you, Jokester!"
"Well, we'll see about that," Jokester said with a sure voice as she approached the bound Girl Wonder. "Have you ever heard of Jokester brand Mind Erasing Gas?"
"No! What!?!," stammered Flamebird, now face to face with the patsy faced female queen of crime.
"Yes, my latest invention," laughed Jokester, "and once your mind has been erased of all that do-gooder garbage, I can rebuild you in my image...and you will work alongside me...as Joke Girl!."
Flamebird squirmed and struggled as violently as she could to break free of the straps holding her to the massage table. She flopped like a fish out of water in her restrains with little effect. Jokester drew an oversized aerosol can with a label reading "Mind Erasing Gas."
"Just relax, Flamebird," cooed Jokester in a sinister voice, "it will only take a brief moment..."
With that, Jokester drew the can forward and pressed the spray cap at the top. A light, clear mist sprayed forth which Jokester moved about the teen heroine's face. Flamebird's clinched face reacted with shock at first as the spray hit her mask and nose. Soon, that face gave way to a relaxed expression of complete peace. Flamebird rested her head back with half-open eyes and stared off into the distance, completely unaware of what was occurring. The Girl Wonder appeared drowsy as the mind erasing mist did its worst. The young heroine in red-sapndex was now calm and subdued, a blank slate for Jokester to mold as she pleased.
"There," Jokester joked, "that wasn't so bad. With Batwoman waxed, your next public appearance will be as the villainous sidekick, Joke Girl.
"NO!," cried a stunned Batwoman. "What have you done to Flamebird?!?"
"Not that its any concern of yours any longer," Madame Truffant said crossly. "You won't be around long enough to see the results....Ladies, give Batwoman the ultimate waxing...NOW!."
Batwoman closed her eyes as the bikini-clad henchwoman arrived at her side and began to spray the coating of wax. She could feel the wax was warm as the thick misting hit her face and upper body. Could things be any worse?, Batwoman thought. She had never faced a situation so dire in her crime fighting career.

TO BE CONTINUED....

[superpics4les]

HOLY IMPOSSIBLE SITUATIONS!! :smt119 :smt104

HOW WILL GOTHAM'S GORGEOUS CAPED CRIMEFIGHTRESSES GET OUT OF THIS ONE?

WILL BATWOMAN END UP A CURVACEOUS SCENTED CANDLE ON MADAME TRUFFANT'S MANTLE?

WILL FLAMEBIRD REALLY BECOME THE SINISTER SIDEKICK OF THE CLOWN PRINCESS OF CRIME?

HOLD YOUR BREATH FOR BATWOMAN 'TIL THE NEXT EPISODE!!

SAME BAT STORY, SAME BAT FORUM!! (fade to black, cue Bat-theme and end credits)

(Well, don't really do that, but it sounded really 60's Batman-ish! Eat your heart out, Bill Dozier!! :-D Great job, my friend! Can't wait 'til the next update! 8) )

[franco99]

** I hope no one objects to my use of Omega Woman & Gamma Girl, just a cool homage to our Krofft superheroine faves and I wanted to interject them into the story**

As Madame Truffant's bikini models sprayed Batwoman in wax, Jokester removed the binds that secured her new toy, Flamebird, and sat her down in a chair. Madame Truffant supervised the Batwoman waxing and watched with curious amusement as Jokester went through her bag of tricks. Flamebird, the red spandexed wonder, sat dazed and limp in her chair, weak enough to almost slump right down to the ground. With her young brain in a chemically induced fog, the Girl Wonder looked as if her mind was a million miles away. Jokester found a large pair of sunglasses, a huge pair like the ones bought as a gag at the county fair and a pair of earphones where the earpieces were two huge replica ears.
"Now what in the world is that for?," laughed a confused Madame Truffant.
"Oh, these?," Jokester said in mock surprise. "My Jokester glasses give a hypnotic swirling multi-colored light show to make Flamebird's mind very suggestable to the sweet mind-bending hypno music that comes from my Jokester earphones."
With that, Joker placed the ridiculous glasses over the Teen Wonder's masked face and slipped the large ear earphones over her ears. Flamebird could only manage a soft groin as she began to sway with the mind-numbing assault of dancing lights and sweetly soft soothing music.
"Hmmm...working perfectly so far," Jokester reasoned. "Soon Flamebird will be my partner in crime, my trusty sidekick...but I'm not in love with the name Joke Girl....maybe a cutesy name, like Giggles...hmmmm..."
"Talking to yourself, Jokester?," Madame Truffant asked with an indignant tone.
"Just thinking out loud," Jokester said coldly, not liking the tone in Madame Truffant's voice, "but you wouldn't be the first to say I'm a little crazy."
As Jokester and Madame Truffant bantered, the Brazilian waxing Batwoman was receiving was almost complete. After spraying her face and upper body, the bikini beauties were applying a light coating to her nylon covered thighs and boots. The wax coating was almost clear, almost as if the caped crusader was placed in a clear plastic shell. Madame Truffant's wax was hardening almost upon contact and the violent squirming Batwoman offered at first had completely seized. Flamebird's head continued to sway loosely on her neck as the flashing lights and soothing sounds worked over her mind. Although her face was barely visible under the huge glasses and large earpieces, her face still held the expression of drowsy bewilderment.
As their dastardly work was nearly done, Madame Truffant addressed a now pressing problem with her new partner, Jokester.
"Now that the Dynamic Duo is defunct," Madame Truffant explained, "we do have a new problem that just cropped up, an unexpected surprise."
With that, the fashion maven flipped today's edition of the Gotham Herald to Jokester. The headline announced that Central City's star superheroines, Omega Woman and Gamma Girl were visiting Gotham City and had planned a meeting with the police commissioner to discuss crime fighting techniques in Gotham.
"Hmmm...Omega Woman and Gamma Girl," Jokester said has she stared intently at the picture of the shapely superduo on the front page. "I'm familiar with their work, but I've never had the pleasure of locking horns with them."
"Well, not to panic," Madame Truffant noted with concern, "but they're pretty capable crime-fighters from what I understand and they are arriving at Gotham at a most inopportune time."
"If I remember correctly, Omega Woman and Gamma Girl have no superpowers per se," reasoned Jokester, taking a scientific tack in assessing the situation. "Their powers come from a sort of electrical energy Omega-Comp wrist devices."
"Yeah, those wrist thingys," blurted an uninformed Madame Truffant. "Those things shoot stunning force fields and electro-magnetic blasts and stuff like that."
"No sweat," Jokester replied calmly. "If those "wrist thingys," as you call them, are powered by electro-magnetic power from a central source, the OmegaBase...then we find a way to interfere with the electro-magnetic waves, leaving them powerless."
"How do you plan to do that?," Madame Truffant asked.
"Its quite simple, actually, but those Central City supervillains are a bunch of amateurs and hacks," giggled the goofy Jokester. "But it says they are meeting with the police commissioner, your pal that set up Batwoman and Flamebird. Our best defense is a good offense...tell the commissioner that I, the sinister Jokester, arrived at your little fashion show and captured the dynamic duo and you need the help of Central City's greatest crime-fighters, Omega Woman and Gamma Girl."
"What about those Omega-Comp things?," inquired a concerned Madame Truffant. "Do you have a plan to short-circuit those things?"
"Let everything to me," boasted a confident Jokester. "Just make the call to the commissioner and we'll prepare the back warehouse for a special photo shoot with your bikini girls...I'm thinking of a beach scene, maybe a little volleyball game..."

Laurie and Judy in their civilian guises were known as investigative reporters for the prestigious Newsmakers magazine. They worked out of Newsmakers main office in the heart of Central City. They also did their share of investigating of a different kind in their costumed crime-fighting alter-egos of Omega Woman and Gamma Girl. While visiting Gotham City and hoping to meet with Gotham's dynamic duo of Batwoman and Flamebird, they were in full costume making their way downtown to the police commissioner's office when they received a distress call from that same commissioner.
Laurie, the buxom 28 year old blonde, was now in full Omega Woman uniform. Her lovely light features and long flowing honey blonde hair was complemented by her colorful skin-tight leotard. Omega Woman wore a bright orange leotard with a yellow omega symbol across her large chest. Yellow elbow-length gloves, cape, and belt, along with matching orange go-go boots completed her sexy superlook.
Judy, a shade shorter and a tad more voluptuous than Laurie, was a 22 year old cub reporter that worked under her mentor Laurie. That same relationship applied to their secret crime-fighting exploits. Judy, as Gamma Girl, wore the girliest of girly costumes, all pink and decidedly form-fitting. Gamma Girl wore a dark pink leotard and go-go boots with light pink tights, belt, and cape. Both wore what appeared to be a cumbersomely large box on their right wrists. This was no ordinary box, these were Omega Woman and Gamma Girl's famed Omega Comps. Powered by waves of electro-magnetic energy from a computer at the Omega Base, these powerful Omega-Comps were portable computers with attachments that enabled our heroines to project paraylzing force fields and matter-shattering electra blasts. Since Omega Woman and Gamma Girl were hundreds of miles from their power source, the computer at Omega Base, a portable electro-magnetic power supply was stashed in their hotel room to give their Omega-Comps temporary power.
As they traveled in a manner of visiting V.I.P.'s, in a limo sent from Gotham's Mayor Linseed, Gamma Girl answered the phone installed in the back of the car.
"Yes, Commissioner," Gamma Girl said with a serious tone of concern, "we'll be right on it."
"What is it, Gamma Girl?"
"OmegaWow, Batwoman and Flamebird were at Madame Truffant's swimwear preview when they were captured by the notorious supervillainess, the Jokester."
"Madame Truffant, the famous bikini designer?," Omega Woman asked.
"One in the same...and the Gotham's most villainous vixen, there goes our relaxing vacation," Gamma Girl groaned.
"Right, but the commissioner and Gotham's dynamic duo need our help," Omega Woman announced in her best heroic voice. "Let's go...we'll have the driver take us there."
"I guess we'll have to, the OmegaCar is parked at OmegaBase in Central City," Gamma Girl joked.
"Let's get to Madame Truffant's and see if we can get any clues," Omega Woman said seriously as she altered the limo driver to change direction.

Behind the bikini store in Madame Truffant's toney boutique was a rather large warehouse. Large enough, in fact, that Madame Truffant kept a good number of props to stage impromptu photo shoots. After phoning the commissioner with her news about the Jokester and the disappearance of Batwoman and Flamebird, Madame Truffant had set up a lavish beach scene with the help of the insane genius Jokester. A 6X6 area was covered with sand and contained the items neccessary for a day at the beach. A small volleyball net had been set up along with a couple of lounging chairs, a beach ball, and a tube of suntan lotion. Truffant's bikini clad assistants wore the latest sunglasses, still wearing the black and yellow bikinis from the fashion show, and practiced their best poses. Lighting towers flooded the mock beach scene with enough light to shoot and a camera was set up on a tripod. The carefully staged scene was carefully prepared as Madame Truffant and her henchgirls took their places. Jokester kept out of view, stalking in the background of the darkened areas of the warehouse.
The limo pulled up out front of Madame Truffant's boutique as directed and Omega Woman and Gamma Girl bounced out and jogged to the front entrance of the bikini shop. As they opened the front door and entered the store, Madame Truffant came out to meet them.
"Omega Woman and Gamma Girl," Madame Truffant gushed with admiration and relief, "you have no idea how glad I am to show you both."
"What happened?," asked Omega Woman. "Any details would be greatly helpful."
"Oh, it was awful," sighed a dismayed Madame Truffant. "I was doing a little shoot in the back area here and I took Batwoman and Flamebird back to give them the tour. Then, out of nowhere, the Jokester jumped out and confronted the dynamic duo. She dropped a cannister of some kind of knockout gas at their feet and the gas filled the room. Me and my models were able to get out before the gas got us, but Batwoman and Flamebird weren't so lucky. We waited for the gas to clear the room and once it was safe to enter, everyone was gone."
"Sound like a typical Jokester trick, from what I hear," added Gamma Girl.
"May we get a look at the scene of the kidnapping, Madame?," inquired Omega Woman.
"By all means, follow me...," directed Madame Truffant as she motioned them to walk back to the back warehouse area.
Omega Woman and Gamma Girl followed Madame Truffant into the back area. They walked over to the beach photo shoot area and looked around for any clues.
"Has anything been changed since the incident?," asked Omega Woman.
"No, nothing," offered a cooperative Madame Truffant, "let me show you what happened...if you would be so kind, stand in the sand, right next to the models...that's were Batwoman and Flamebird were standing...I was standing behind this camera to view the shot."
Omega Woman and Gamma Girl complied with Madame Truffant's request and they made their way to a spot on the patch of sand next to the preening bikini models. Madame Truffant went behind the camera facing the scene and signaled that Central City's sexy superheroine duo were standing in the right spot.
Madame Truffant managed a sly grin as the plan was unfolding perfectly. Standing behind the camera, she pressed the button for the flash at the top. Instead of the standard photo flash, a blinding pulse of white light flashed forth in the direction of Omega Woman and Gamma Girl.
"AAARRGHHHHH!!!," screamed Omega Woman and Gamma Girl in unison with pain as the unexpected blinding flash popped in their eyes and left them temporarily blinded. They drew their gloved hands to their faces and over their eyes in a reflex as the sudden pain buckled their knees. The sunglass wearing bikini models too stood in front of Madame Truffant's flash, but their eyes had been protected by their specially equipped glasses.
"Quickly, subdue them before they get their vision back!," Madame Truffant shouted.
In a panic, the blinded and weakened Omega Woman fled backward to avoid the attack from the models she stood beside. Regaining her composure, Omega Woman felt her wrist for her powered Omega-Comp.
If she could shoot an electro-magnetic force field around her, she felt she could repel the attack until her vision was restored. Omega Woman fumbled a bit with her fingers, but managed to find the correct button for the force field she requested. Omega Woman pressed the button repeatedly, but nothing was happening. The Omega-Comp was not responding.
"Trying to use your Omega-Comp, Omega Woman?," Madame Truffant laughed. "That volleyball net is made from a electrically charged metal mesh that jams those electro-magnetic waves that power your lovely wrist weapons."
Gamma Girl too staggered back to avoid the onrushing models. Her retreat was not as nearly as steady as her partners.
"Omega Woman!," Gamma Girl shouted, "I can't see. Help."
"Our Omega-Comps are useless, Gamma Girl," the blinded Omega Woman cried. "We'll have to fight our way out...blindly!."
Madame Truffant's bikini models were quite capable as sexy models, but not as capable as evil henchgirls. Omega Woman and Gamma Girl waved their arms violently in front of them to repel their atackers. Our Brazilian black bikinied beauty walked right into a wild Omega Woman slap and was dropped quickly to the ground. The redhead treaded cautiously in front of Gamma Girl's wild swings, not daring to get too close.
Madame Truffant watched with disgust as her henchgirls had failed her.
"Idiots!," Madame Truffant shouted, "They can't see...for now. Use your weapons!"
The Brazilian went back to the sandy area and grabbed the tube of suntan lotion. Returning to the blinded Omega Woman, standing on unsteady legs, the black bikinied girl squirted the floor under Omega Woman's boots with the slick cocoa butter concoction. Unable to see the floor being greased below her, Omega Woman stepped on the slick area and her boots gave way under her. Slipping and falling rudely on her shapely bottom, Omega Woman tried to get up but found the floor too oily to get any footing. Her gloved hands slid on the suntan oil as she was unable to pull herself up. Omega Woman flopped as her arms and legs kept sliding out from under her as she panicked to get herself up to defend herself.
Seeing the Brazilain's victory, the sexy redhead ran back to unhook the volleyball net from its supports. The electro-magnetic jamming net would now serve another purpose, the wrap the sight impaired Gamma Girl. Still swinging about with her arms, the yellow bikinied girl advance just close enough to avoid the punches, but close enough to throw the net accurately. Flinging the net forward, the metal mesh net crashed about the flaying young pink spandexed heroine, wrapping around her quite neatly. Gamma Girl's wild swings worked against her as her arms became tangled first upon contact and the weigh of the metal net spn about to cocoon the heroine. The net was enough of a surprise and heavy enough to send her tumbling to the ground like her partner. Gamma Girl blinked feverishly, trying to see her unseen attacker, but it was no use.
"Omega Woman," Gamma Girl shouted in panic, "I'm trapped...some sort of net...all wrapped up in it."
"Me too...," Omega Woman added as she blindly flopped about in the slick suntan lotion, "some...super...slick oil on the floor. Can't...stand...up."
The temporary blinded duo from Central City were helpless on the floor of Madame Truffant's warehouse. Omega Woman slipping and sliding and Gamma Girl wrapped up in a clinging volleyball net. Seeing the helpless heroines, Madame Truffant pounced as she grabbed the beach ball from the mock beach scene and made her way to the subdued Omega Woman and Gamma Girl.
"Your vision should be coming back shortly, ladies," Madame Truffant giggled. "I'll have to take care of that."
With that, she produced a sharp pin from her hair and drove in roughly into the beach ball she held. A small squirt of purple bikini KO gas shot forth and Madame Truffant placed the hole in the beach ball in front of the face of the sliding Omega Woman. Squeezing the balloon gently, a stream of purple gas flooded Omega Woman's face. The unseen gas attack caused Omega Woman to force a quick cough as the sleeping gas worked effectively. Her flopping quickly subsided as she grew limp and surrendered to sleep. In a drowsy dream-like state, Omega Woman collapsed in her oily trap, sweetly slumbering. Madame Truffant turned her attention to the net wrapped Gamma Girl. Giving her the same purple bikini gas treatment from the booby-trapped beach ball, Madame Truffant softly squeezed the remaining sleeping gas into the squirming Gamma Girl's face. Her squirming too soon gave way to sleep in her metal mesh wrapping.
"Outstanding!," Madame Truffant announced. "The Jokester's traps and gadgets worked better than I ever could have imagined."
"But of course, these two were easy," boasted a cocky Jokester, now emerging from the shadows. "Put those bikini models of yours to work and have them carry the KO'ed Omega Woman and Gamma Girl upstairs to join Batwoman and Flamebird."

As Jokester and Madame Truffant were busy capturing Central City's sexiest heroines, not much as changed upstairs in the spa. Flamebird was growing more vulnerable to Jokester's mind control as her senses were assaulted by the swirling lights and soothing sounds. Batwoman's wax cast was now complete and every inch of her sexy, shapely body was encased in a smothering coaying of bikini wax. Suddenly, the shiny wax coating began to show a small crack, right at the bat-shaped belt buckled of our coated caped crusader. The crack grew larger and spread rapidly over the wax tomb. What exactly could be happening? Is Madame Truffant's bikini wax death trap not as infallible as originally thought....

TO BE CONTINUED.....

[franco99]

....A short time later, still in Madame Truffant's back storeroom, Omega Woman and Gamma Girl were sleeping off an intoxicating dose of Jokester's purple knockout gas. The temporarily blinded spandex super-chicks had been picked up off the floor by Madame Truffant's bikinied henchgirls and placed into simple wooden chairs. To ensure their stay in Jokester's captivity, the sexy voltage vixens are bound snuggly from neck to ankles in a cocoon of Jokester's multi-colored party streamers, binding Omega Woman and Gamma Girl to their seats and helpless to whatever evil plan this nefarious duo had devised.
Gamma Girl slowly stirs, shaken away the chemically induced cobwebs as she tossing her dainty brown pigtails. Omega Woman too begins to awaken as her heavy eyelids opened ever so slighty and her long honey blonde locks dance about her face.
"Oh...Omega Woman?," Gamma Girl softly muttered, still woozy from the purple gas attack. "Can you hear me?"
"Gamma Girl?...I'm right here," countered the drowsy Omega Woman.
"Where are we?," Gamma Girl asked as she realized her tight young bod is bound completely in colorfully thin but unbreakable strands. "Why can't I move?...I'm...all tied...up."
"Me too, Gamma Girl," responded a more aware Omega Woman as the fog in her mind began to clear and the gravity of their dire situation became more apparant. "Walked right into some trap...and...I...can't budge...this wrapping."
"Omega helpless," blurted the panicked Gamma Girl as she tugged futility at her bonds, "...and I can't feel my Omega-Comp on my wrist."
"...That's because I'm holding them right here," interrupted the jovial Jokester, with both of our heroines' Omega-Comps in her hand ,as she made her presence known. "But don't worry, I'll be returning them to you both very soon."
"I know you!," shouted an indignant Omega Woman with fiery blue eyes and a sexy, yet menacing, scowl. "You're the sinister Jokester. What is the meaning of this? Trapping us and keeping us prisoners?"
"What are you going to do with us?," added a less confident Gamma Girl. "You're giving us our Omega-Comps back? You're letting us go?"
"Is this some sort of sick joke, Jokester?," fired a still angry Omega Woman.
"Hardly a joke, Omega Woman," spat a more maniacial Jokester, dangling the elusive power sources, the coveted Omega-Comps, mere inches from the bound Omega Woman's face. "You see, you'll both get your precious Omega-Comps back once the two of you are in my employ."
"You captured us because you thought we'd join you?," giggled an amused Omega Woman, laughing in the face of danger at such a ridiculous proposition.
"Omega delusional," added Gamma Girl, "looks like the joke's on you, Jokester."
A knowing smile crossed Jokester's bright rudy red lips as Madame Truffant and her bikini-clad associates entered the room. Madame Truffant led the way as her henchwomen trailed behind, wheeling in a big screen television that was placed before Central City's famed spandex superfoxes.
"I have what you might call a...recruiting tape I play for all potential employees, something of a training tape," joked the sinsiter clown princess of crime. "I think you two will find it quite...enrapturing."
Madame Truffant presented a shiny DVD and handed it to the Jokester, who placed it in the DVD player mounted at the top of the large television.
"You won't find this in your local video store, my spandex-clad superstooges," giggled Madame Truffant. "Our mind control disc should work quite nicely on those feeble little brains of yours."
A cold look of panic could be detected on the faces of Omega Woman and Gamma Girl. Becoming the mind controlled pawns of someone as notorious as the Jokester was a fate worse than either could have imagined. From the large speakers of the big screen T.V., a soft humming noise could be heard, like the purr of a jet engine warming up. The large screen when from total darkness to complete whiteness before melting into a swirl of black and white stripes spinning hypnotically in mind numbing circles.
"Gamma Girl," shouted a scared Omega Woman, "avert your eyes, look down, look away..."
"I...I'm trying," shouted a scrambled Gamma Girl, "the screen...drawing me in..."
"It was designed to draw you in, Gamma Goof," snapped the Jokester with an evil tone, "but I thought you might try looking away or closing your eyes....that's why I placed my tiny earpices in your left ears."
A puzzled look crossed the faces of our heroines upon hearing that news, not feeling anything in their ears. Their surprised and concerned faces practically begged for further explaination.
"You see, my kilowatt cuties," continued the laughing Jokester, "when you look away or close your eyes for more than a second, the ultra-sonic mind piercing sound waves in my teeny-tiny earplugs are activated in your ears...like so...."
With that, a loud screeching sonic sound was set off inside our heroines' ears, unleashing a torrent of painful eardrum shattering screams that no heroine could tolerate for long.
"AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!," screamed Omega Woman and Gamma Girl in unison as a look of unbreakable pain was worn on both of their beautiful faces. The sonic blast was brief, lasting less than a second, but lasted long enough for Jokester to make her point.
"Now that was a small taste, ladies," Jokester instructed. "Prolonged exposure will shattered your eardrums and reduce your brains to day old mush."
Sobbing and almost resigned to their terrible fate, the saddened super duo looked glumly into the spinning, hypnotic spiral flashing brilliantly on the large television screen.
"You...you'll pay for...this," grunted a staggered and bound Omega Woman, salvaging the last morsal of her pride as best she could.
Gamma Girl could not offer such defiance as her older partner did in the face of powerful hypnosis. The spiraling swirl was drawing her in and taking control of her mind. A blank expression of numbness was the only emotion on the pigtailed pink spandex-clad heroine's face.
Omega Woman too began to bob her head as the diabolical DVD played it's befuddling hypnotic black and white dancing stripe show.
"Very good, my stupified superheroines," cooed an encouraging Jokester, like a mother talking softly to a small child, "keep looking into the spiral...listen to the relaxing humm...soon your wills will be broken and your minds will be ours to control..."
"Wow," exclaimed an astonished Madame Truffant, "you weren't kidding about the power of your hypnotic images....Omega Woman and Gamma Girl, completely zonked out. If this works half as well on my televised bikini fashion show..."
"Silence," demanded a cross Jokester, "It works as I told you it would...now don't speak so loudly that you break the trance these superslaves are falling under...."

As the bound Omega Woman and Gamma Girl fall under the seductive spell of the Jokester, the action is heating up in the upstairs spa of Madame Truffant's bikini boutique.
The wax coating that covered the domino daredoll, Batwoman, began to show some signs of cracking as Flamebird was drifting off into a similiar mind controlled stupor Omega Woman and Gamma Girl were falling prey to. Hypnotic devices disguised as comically oversized sunglasses and super-size ear shaped earphones were worn on Flamebird lovely vestige as she was slowly being shaped into the sinister sidekick of the Jokester. The Girl Wonder swayed with the soft music and spinning multi-colored lights, with her head rolling softly from side to side in an unheard hypnotic rhythm.
As Flamebird was close to becoming the mind controlled Joke Girl or Giggles, the cracks of Batwoman's wax coffin grew longer and the sound of hardened wax cracking could be heard softly at first. In a burst of strength which seemed like a flash, Batwoman extended her arms and legs with all her might and blasted her way free of the hard wax cocoon devised by Madame Truffant and the Jokester. The wax pieces, now like hardened plastic, fell to the ground as Batwoman drew in a long deep breath, sounding almost like a gasping wheeze. Encased in an oxygen free wax wrap for more than a minute, Batwoman gasped and coughed, sucking down every luscious ounce of air she could inhale. The wax sealed tomb was now broken, Batwoman was free.
The lack of oxygen left our fair heroine staggered and weak as she fell to a knee, still coughing and gasping. She came close to passing out, but simply willed herself to stay alert.
"I never thought my training in yoga would come in so handy," thought Batwoman as her mind was still cloudy from her brush with suffocation. "The ability to slow my breathing...along with the electrical charge safeguard in the buckle of my utility belt, breaking the coating of wax, saved my skin this time."
Batwoman scanned the empty room, save the luxury spa equipment, for any sign of her niece and sidekick, Flamebird. She quickly spied the red-spandexed Teen Wonder seated with the hypnotic devices attached to her head. At almost a crawl, the weakened Batwoman staggered over to her partner and knocked the goofy glasses and oversized earphones off Flamebird's head with one desparate swipe of her red gloved hand.
The expense of energy forced the tight fitting yellow spandex clad Batwoman falling to the floor, at the tan pantyhosed ankles and yellow booties of Flamebird's feet. The sudden interruption of the hypnotic sounds and dancing lights snapped the Teen Wonder back into reality.
"Holy headtrip, Batwoman," groaned an awakening Flamebird. "What happened?"
"Jokester tried to brainwash you into becoming her sidekick with these hypnotic glasses and earphones," Batwoman explained as she struggled to one knee in an attempt to stand. "Madame Truffant and those evil bikini models coated me in a layer of suffocating wax."
"Coating you in wax!?!," exclaimed a stunned Flamebird, as she too was woozy from the Jokester's mind altering attempt, placing her petite yellow gloved hand to her masked face. "How in the world did you escape?"
"It wasn't easy, I can tell you that," continued cowled caped crusader. "The acid content in the wax loosened the straps holding me to the table and the emergency electrical charge, activated when coated with a sticky substance, cracked the wax casing before it suffocated me..."
"Holy Brazilian Wax, Batwoman," crowed a relieved Flamebird, "that was a close one...and imagine being a brainwashed sidekick for the Clown Queen of Crime..."
"Well, you don't have to imagine that again," reasoned Batwoman in a comforting tone as she looked about the room. "But where are Madame Truffant and Jokester...not to mention the bikini girls?"
"I don't know, Batwoman," Flamebird said with concern, "but waiting up here isn't going to help. We better make tracks and see where they got away to."
"If they intended to hypnotize you," Batwoman thought aloud, "then they couldn't be far away."
"Right," agreed the Girl Wonder, "but let's move, this sinister spa gives me the creeps."
"Remember, peril could be waiting around every corner," warned Batwoman, "this is Madame Truffant's shop and we both know all too well the Jokester's arsenal of tricks and traps."
The spandex-clad sexy superheroines tiptoed softly out of the room and cautiously scanned the area as they moved. They made their way smoothly into the hallway and to the staircase, ready for any surprises they may be awaiting them.

Across the street from Madame Truffant's bikini boutique sat a busy coffeehouse, Charbucks. Seated by the window, while nursing a large steaming latte, was a striking twenty year old community college student, Candy Cummings. The lovely and shapely aspiring gymnast stood a short 5'5, but packed the curves of a European race track. The busty auburn haired beauty was late for her classes at Empire State Community College as she spied the scene in front of Madame Truffant's store. Candy had seen her idols, Batwoman and Flamebird, on a routine pre-class coffee run. Gotham famed dynamic duo entered the bikini shop Candy had frequented many times only to be followed inside by a shadowy figure that resembled the notorious Jokester and later by the pride of Central City, Omega Woman and Gamma Girl.
The scene puzzled the young woman as something strange seemed to be going on. Candy had waited patiently as she hoped to have a word with Gotham's dynamic duo once they exited Madame Truffant's toney boutique. She fashioned herself a superheroine, well, a superheroine in training. Candy had the bod to fill the spandex costume and the athletic ability to handle herself against most villains, but she lacked any experience in tackling Gotham's trickiest ne'er-do-wells. In a backpack, sling over the back of the chair as she sat, along with a couple of notebooks, was a makeshift superheroine costume she had fashioned from her gymnastic costumes and workout gear. The complete complement of spandex leotard, nylon tights, gloves, booties, and, of course, an identity concealing mask was taken with her everywhere she went as she prepared to embark on her career as another of Gotham's sexy superheroines. The proper moment to unveil her newest venture had not presented itself recently, but with the bizarre goings on at the bikini store across the street...the time was at hand. Candy exited the coffeehouse and walked slowly to an empty alley down the block. She scanned about the see if anyone was watching her as she made her way to a safe area to change into costume.
"Its probably nothing," Candy thought as she arrived at a place where no eyes would see her transformation from college student to superheroine, "but at least I might meet Batwoman and Flamebird...and maybe even Omega Woman..."

TO BE CONTINUED....

[franco99]

Emerging from the alley, Candy Cummings was no longer in her tight belly shirt and low rise jeans she started the day in. The lovely voluptuous college coed with shoulder length auburn hair practically glowed as she wore her superheroine costume for the first time. In fact, she was no longer Candy Cummings as she hit the streets in her super heroic alter-ego, Goldenstar.
A shiny gold sleeved leotard highlighted her bodacious body. Her belt, elbow length gloves, and slip on booties were also gold, but a shade darker than her leotard. Tan shimmering pantyhose clung deliciously to her well toned athletic legs. A bright gold eyemask completed her costume and concealed Candy's identity, although it didn't conceal the lovely features of her face, a girl-next-door beauty that attracted a lot of attention. A single white five-pointed star was sewn at the center of her ample chest, where the gold spandex fabric seemed stretched to its very breaking point. Candy looked even better than she expected in her new costume. She felt like she could conquer the world in her form flattering gold suit and her confidence was apparant as she strode down the street to investigate Madame Truffant's swimwear shop. Goldenstar wasn't the only one impressed with how she looked in her new costume as she turned every head she passed on her short journey to Madame Truffant's.
Goldenstar took a deep breath as she would now embark on her first "mission" as one of Gotham's costumed superfoxes. She approached the door to the bikini boutique, collecting her thoughts and mustering her courage, and entered the shop. The opening of the door set off a buzzer to notified the occupants of the building that another shopper was arriving. Normally, this buzzer was to simply alter the salespeople of the presence of another customer. On this day, it would give the villainous Jokester and Madame Truffant enough warning to prepare for the arrival of another costumed superheroine.
As Goldenstar entered to see that no one was in the store area of Madame Truffant's boutique, Madame Truffant and Jokester were in the back storeroom, watching Omega Woman and Gamma Girl undergo a mind altering hypnosis session, when they heard the front door buzzer go off.
"Madame, take a quick peek and see who's walking in the store," ordered a preoccupied Jokester as she was supervising the brainwashing of Omega Woman and Gamma Girl. "Go out and get rid of them."
"I should have locked that damn door," sniffed an indignant Madame Truffant, "but I'll get this customer out of here."
Madame Truffant walked to the door connecting the storeroom to the store and opened it slightly to see just who was entering. She was shocked to see a beautiful young masked woman in a gold leotard looking around the vacant shopping area.
"My goodness, another superheroine?," gasped Madame Truffant to herself. "I don't believe I've seen her before, but we don't need another surprise visitor now."
Madame Truffant stepped quickly back to the Jokester to seek her advice. Dealing with troublesome costumed superheroines was more in Jokester's field of expertise.
"Jokester," Madame Truffant whispered, "it isn't another customer. It looks like another superheroine...all in gold... but I don't think I recognize her."
A concerned look came across Jokester's face upon hearing that unsettling news. Which of Gotham's snooping superchicks was butting in this time? Without a word, Jokester walked over to the door to get a look for herself.
"Hmmm, I've never seen this one before," Jokester said as she peeked through the small opening. "It isn't one of the usual suspects, but masked superheroines in tight leotards have been popping up in Gotham City like Charbucks franchises."
"Well, what do we do now?," asked a concerned Madame Truffant. "We weren't expecting her."
"Listen, if I haven't seen her before, she must be a rookie," reasoned a calm Jokester. "A lovely rookie, but a rookie nonetheless. Go out there and see what she wants. There's no way she could know that we've captured Batwoman, Flamebird, Omega Woman, and Gamma Girl. I think I have the perfect story and trap to spring on this novice supergirl...."

A few short moments later, Madame Truffant emerged from the back storeroom area and entered the main floor of her shop. She walked calmly, but purposefully, to the stunning figure in gold spandex.
"Hello, welcome to Madame Truffant's," boomed Madame Truffant in a welcoming tone. "How may I help you?"
"I noticed that Batwoman and Flamebird entered a short time ago, along with Omega Woman and Gamma Girl while on my routine patrol," explained Goldenstar with her most striking hands-on-hips heroine pose, "and I also saw someone looking remarkably like the supervillainess Jokester...may I be of some assistance?"
"Assistance?," asked a seemingly confused Madame Truffant, "Pardon me for asking, but are you a superheroine?"
"Yes, I'm new to Gotham City," boasted the young golden heroine in her most confident tone. "I'm Goldenstar."
"I'm sorry, I should have known by your costume, which looks fabulous on you, by the way," giggled Madame Truffant, "but I can't say I'm familair with your work."
"Nothing to apologize for," insisted Goldenstar, "but is there some sort of trouble here?"
"Trouble? Goodness no, Ms. Goldenstar," laughed Madame Truffant. "These heroines are here on a photo shoot for me. I'm introducing a new line of superheroine swimwear based on their fab costumes and they've agreed to model for me. The girl in the white patsy makeup is a model made up to look like the Jokester...she's part of the shoot as well. The shoot is going on in back as we speak...that's where I was went you entered."
"A photo shoot? That's it?," asked Goldenstar as she exhaled a sigh of relief. "I was afraid something was amiss and I wanted to offer my services. Say, would it be OK if I went back to see the photo shoot?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, this photo shoot is closed to the public," apologized Ms. Truffant. "Nothing personal, my dear, but this business is cut-throat and there isn't a swimwear designer in the world that would hesitate to steal my best ideas."
"Oh...I understand," responded a disappointed Goldenstar, wishing to get a chance to meet the famed Batwoman and Flamebird. "I'm sorry I bothered you...I won't take up any more of your time."
Madame Truffant escorted the shapely spandex-clad amateur heroine toward the door. Ms. Truffant would have been fine with simply letting this new heroine walk out without further incident now that she was satisfied with the explaination offered, but Jokester had other ideas. Why pass up such an opportunity to add another captive heroine to her mind-controlled collection? Why let someone who has seen all four heroine enter the toney boutique get away to spill her story to the authorities? This mass hypnosis televised event was too lucrative to leave anything to chance as all loose ends must be tied.
Before approaching the door, Madame Truffant went behind the counter of the cash register and motioned with her hand for Goldenstar to stop.
"Ms. Goldenstar, no one leaves Madame Truffant's Boutique empty-handed, especially a superheroine," explained the sinister swimsuit designer as she looked behind the counter for a specific item. "Please accept this complementary gift bag as my way to welcome you to Gotham City."
Madame Truffant came out from behind the counter with a small shopping bag with Madame Truffant's logo on the side. The package was small, about the size of a legal envelope. The bag was handed to the gracious but unsuspecting heroine.
"Thank you, that's very kind," Goldenstar said sweetly in genuine appreciation of the gesture. "What is it?"
"The contents of Madame Truffant's gift bags are always a surprise, Goldenstar. There's only one way to find out"
Jokester and Madame Truffant's bikinied beauties were clustered out of view behind the storeroom door, ready to pounce, as Goldenstar accepted the gift bag. Their prescene would be required in the next step of Goldenstar's capture.
Goldenstar wore a sweet grin on her face as she looked with appreciation at Madame Truffant. She looked down at the small bag in her golden gloved hands and wondered at the many possibilities of what might be inside. As she pulled open the bag, a loud BOIIINGG of a metal spring uncoiling could be heard along with the hissing sound of a material being released. The spring released a shower of white string that shot forth from the bag at high velocity. Our unsuspecting novice heroine had neither the time nor the experience to drop the bag before the entangling twine wrapped snuggly around her well-shaped torso. The string shooting forth wound quickly around Goldenstar, pinning her arms to her sides and coating her upper body in winding layers of sticky white strands.
"What?!?," exclaimed the shocked Goldenstar as her arms were forced to her sides, dropping the booby-trapped bag to the floor. "Wha...What's the...meaning...of this? Can't...move...my...arms,...string too...strong."
The sticky string straight jacket concocted by the nefarious Jokester had worked to perfection as the stunned Goldenstar squirmed and struggled to pull her arms free from the thin bounds that caught her. As the trap was activated, Jokester and Madame Truffant's henchgirls entered the store to meet Gotham's newest heroine.
"The meaning of this is quite obvious, Golden Girl," announced the triumphant Jokester. "Snooping superheroines must be dealt with post haste and my silly string trap is always a favorite of mine in trapping spandex-clad supersnoops."
After the initial shock of being bound by the sticky silly string gift bag, Goldenstar's next impulse was to flee. Her legs were still free, but she had hesitated too long before being surrounded by the evil quartet of villainesses. As the bikinied henchwomen grabbed Goldenstar by her shoulders to hold her in place, the Jokester approached to stand face to face with the now helpless heroine.
"Why are you doing this?," cried a panicked Goldenstar, realizing her first mission had been nothing short of a complete disaster. "Get your hands off me!"
"Awww...I do so enjoy meeting new superheroines," cooed the sinister clown princess of crime. "The new ones are just so easy to capture."
"Leave me alone!," shouted an almost sobbing Goldenstar. "What are you going to do with me? What have you done with the others?"
"You better just worry about yourself, rookie," demanded a cross Jokester. "Say...have you ever seen a flower has lovely as the one pinned to my lapel Would you like to smell it? The fragrance is intoxicating."
Goldenstar's eyes grew bigger as she saw the Jokester nimble gloved fingers move about the bright purple tulip shaped flower on the lapel of her purple suit jacket. She know enough about the exploits of the Jokester's criminal career to know her trick flower usually contained a disabling dose of knockout gas.
"Why don't you take a closer look and take a good whiff, Goldensnoop?," laughed Jokester as the evil bikini models pushed the captive golden herione closer to Jokester flower adorned lapel.
Goldenstar closed her eyes as she was pushed mere inches from the flower on Jokester's chest. She could hardly watch the plume of purple incapacitating gas that would quickly whisk her off her dreamland and helpless in the clutches of Gotham's most feared supervillainess. Instead of hearing the expected hiss of escaping gas, Goldenstar felt a light misting of water hit her face. Her face cringed at first as the cool water made contact with her lovely masked face, but she soon realized she was awake and the assault was nothing more than a squirt of water.
"Huh? Water?," questioned Goldenstar as she opened her eyes and felt the water run softly off her face.
"Yep, a water squirting flower, the oldest joke in the book," giggled Jokester in a maniacal laugh. "You get it?"
"Very funny...ah...," was all Goldenstar could mutter as her body stiffened and her face was frozen in a blank expression.
"Water laced with a paralyzing neuro-toxin, Goldenstatue," laughed Jokester as her eyes were ablaze with watching the paralyzing spray work so effectively on yet another superheroine.
The wrapped Goldenstar stood erect and frozen like the many mannequins in Madame Truffant's swimwear store. Her lovely face was locked in place just as it was when responding to the Jokester's water squirting flower. The dazed golden heroine looked as if she had been placed in suspended animation as Jokester continued to cackle maniacally at the joke that only she thought was funny.
"Ladies, pick up the paralyzed rookie superchick and place her in front of the television screen with Omega Woman and Gamma Girl," ordered the now serious Jokester as the white faced villainess turned her attention to Madame Truffant.
Truffant's bikini models moved her like the mannequin, with the Brazilian model grabbing her ankles and the redhead securing her about the shoulders. Goldenstar's rigid and frozen body made her quite easy to transport as she was as stiff as an ironing board. They exited the store with their quarry and placed her upright in front of the hypnotic swirling spiral playing on the big screen T.V. as directed.
"Will the hypnotic image work on her after using that paralyzing spray?," asked Madame Truffant.
"Most certainly," responed a confident Jokester, "Golden Chick, or whatever she calls herself, can still see and hear perfectly well. Having her under the influence of my paralyzing neuro-toxin will only make the mind-altering process easier."
"What good will she do us?," questioned a doubting Madame Truffant. "I've never heard of this Goldenstar. For all we know, she's just some girl decked out in her Halloween costume."
"It matters little," reasoned the Jokester, "at least this way, a potential witness that could screw up our little T.V. program is out of the way...and the prettiest girls always make great hostages."
"You've got a point there, Jokester," nodded Madame Truffant in complete agreement. "That's why I recruited a villainess with your criminal expertise...you don't miss a detail."
"Speaking of details," interrupted the Jokester, "all this excitement with unexpected guests has forced us to neglect Batwoman and Flamebird. By now, Batwoman should be the defunct costumed daredoll and Flamebird should be just about ready to accept her role as my sexy criminal sidekick."
"Well, let's check it out," stated Madame Truffant as she pointed toward the stairs leading to her third-story spa.

As Jokester and Madame Truffant approached the stairwell on the ground floor, the recently freed Batwoman and Flamebird were in the third-floor hallway leading the the very same stairwell. It looks as if there is a surprise in store for both the dynamic duo and the villainous vixens...

TO BE CONTINUED....

[Doubleb66]

Merry Christmas!
Reading this chapter was as much fun as opening up my presents this morning. I'm really looking forward to the exciting conclusion!

[franco99]

As Jokester and Madame Truffant approached the stairwell, the Jokester stopped in her tracks and grabbed Madame Truffant by the shoulders to prevent her from going any furhter.
"Madame, I trust you have security cameras in every room of your boutique, especially in the spa," inquired the Jokester with a note of concern.
"Of course, Jokester, why do you ask?," replied the confused silver-haired villainess. "The security center is in the storeroom."
"Let's take a quick peek at the spa monitor," instructed the Jokester. "I've dealt with the dynamic duo before and I'd prefer to make sure they haven't escaped before walking in unprepared."
"C'mon, Jokester, how could they possibly escape?," whined an incredulous Madame Truffant. "Batwoman was coated in a quick hardening wax that a bodybuilder could bust out of and Flamebird was zonked out by that eraser gas and in no condition to resist your mind control devices."
"As much as I hate to admit it, Batchick and the Little Birdie never fail to amaze me with their ability to escape from tight situations," sighed the clown princess of crime with a slight note of admiration in her voice. "We're far better off making absolutely sure the dynamic dolts are in no condition to spring a surprise on us."
With that, the villainous vixens raced from the stairwell and back into the storeroom area, sprinting past the trio of bound heroines grooving to the mind bending sights and sounds of Jokester's hypnotic DVD. In the back of the storeroom, a bank of security monitors on the wall revealed the goings on in all areas of the boutique. The villainesses eyes danced about the various monitors to locate the camera trained on the spa area. Much to their surprise, the spa was vacant save the reminants of discarded hypnotic glasses, earphones, and broken pieces of hardened wax littering the floor.
"No! It is not possible!," exclaimed Madame Truffant. "How could they have escaped?"
"Geez, the world's greatest escape artisits do it again," huffed the Jokester.
"Oh my god, they could bust in here any minute!," cried the panicked Ms. Truffant. "Our plan has failed...we're going to jail...my reputation ruined..."
"Calm down," ordered Jokester in a stern tone. "The resourceful villainess knows when to cut her losses."
"Cut our losses!?!," pleaded Madame Truffant. "What the hell does that mean?"
"That means, Madame," Jokester said matter-of-factly while tossing a piece of gum into her mouth, "we get the hell out of here before Batwoman and Company call in the calvary and haul us off to the prison."
"Run...but my business, my social standing, my boutique...," rambled the shaken swimwear designer.
"You'll be the belle of the ball at Empire State Prison for Women if we don't act fast," joked the Jokester as her gum smacking was more annoying than endearing. "...and I you know stripes aren't flattering to your figure."
"I simply cannot go to prison," sobbed a simpering Madame Truffant. "I'll never make it..."
"And if you follow my lead, you won't, hun," boasted Jokester. "Now let's see how well our intrepid duo are doing in finding us and I think I have just the diversion to get all of us out of here."
"But the T.V. show...the hypnotized heroines...," pleaded Madame Truffant.
"The show has been cancelled, Madame," scolded Jokester, "saving our hides is priority one now. Omega Woman and Gamma Girl are too woozy to help us yet...and we've got their only source of power, their Omega-Comps."
Madame Truffant's bikini-clad henchwomen, the sensuous Brazilian and the sexy redhead stood at attention, still supervising the brainwashing of the three captive heroines. They was no panic in their body language as they waited for their next command from Jokester or Ms. Truffant.
The calmer Jokester reviewed the bank of monitors and spied the dynamic duo, Batwoman and Flamebird, walking carefully down the stairwell. Slinking masked figures in brightly colored, form-fitting spandex moved with an elegant, yet sexy, grace as they reached the first floor, just a few feet from the storeroom. Transferring her bright blue eyes that contrasted strikingly with her patsy white skin, Jokester saw Batwoman and Flamebird look around the store area and walk toward the back storeroom door. The only noise in the room, save the hypnotic humm of sonic sounds eminating from the large screen T.V., was the popping and crackeling of Jokester chewing feverishly on a wad of bubble gum.
"Stand near me at the center of the room, Madame," ordered the Jokester as she walked toward the storeroom door. "Batwoman and Flamebird will arrive in a moment...just stay silent and let me do the talking."
A shaken Madame Truffant complied and joined the Jokester as they waited for Gotham sexiest heroines to bust in with armed with Bat-a-rangs and a full dose of rightous indignation.
As expected, the shapely nylon covered right leg of Batwoman kicked the storeroom door open and the dynamic duo pranced in with disabling Bat-a-rangs in hand.
"Freeze, Jokester..Madame Truffant," Batwoman shouted. "Keep your hands where I can see them...all four of you!."
"You'll all under arrest!," exclaimed Flamebird with pride.
Jokester, Madame Truffant, and the bikini models raised their hands as ordered as Batwoman surveyed the scene to see the bizarre brainwashing of three heroines, two famed crimefighters from Central City and one complete unknown clad in shimmering gold.
"My goodness, what's going on here?," demanded Batwoman. "You, bikini girls, unplug that television...and do it slowly..."
Silently and calmly, the bikini models followed Batwoman's command and turned off the television, causing the hypnotic spiraling screen and soft sonic music to stop suddenly. The seated and well-wrapped Omega Woman and Gamma Girl stopped swaying with droopy eyelids and their bobbing heads dropped in a fit of complete exhaustion, crashing softly in sweet slumber. The young Goldenstar, still under the effects of Jokester's paraylzing neuro-toxin, remained frozen with the same body posture and facial expression she wore when squirted with Jokester's trick flower.
"Holy hypnosis! You're mind control motion picture has been pulled from this theater," boomed the boastful Girl Wonder. "How did Omega Woman & Gamma Girl get here? And who's the girl in gold?"
"Just so you don't try anything funny," warned Batwoman, "the emergency police beckon has been activated...and any sudden moves will be met with a Bat-a-rang to the head."
The quartet of strangely contrasting villainesses, from Madame Truffant's elegant business suit to Jokester brightly garish purple and green suit to two skin baring bikini-clad babes, stood silently, not anxious to respond to the cocky triumphant heroines standing before them.
"Not in a mood to talk, huh?," mocked the curvacous blonde Flamebird, as fetching as ever in red. "You'll have plenty of explaining to do down at the Commissioner's office."
Jokester stepped in front in the cluster of her villainous cohorts and lowered her hands a bit, placing her wrists before her chest as if asking to be handicuffed.
"Listen, just take us in and spare us the lecture," spat the disgusted Jokester with look of resignation on her bright white face with shocking rudy red lipstick. "The only talking I need to do is with my lawyer."
"Have it your way, Jokester," the raven haired Batwoman sneered, "but if you've harmed any of these three ladies...no lawyer will protect you from me. 'Cuff her, Flamebird..."
Flamebird retrived the Batcuffs from her yellow utility belt and practically bounced over to the submissive supervillainess. Just as the Girl Wonder was to slap the handcuffs on Jokester's wrists, shocking, ear-splitting screams filled the air.
"ARRGHHHH!!!!," screamed Omega Woman and Gamma Girl as sonic brain scrambling waves from Jokester's well concealed earplugs were activated in their ears. The sexy spandex-clad voltage vixens from Central City were quickly awakened from their hypnotically enduced slumber and grimaced in great pain as they yelled, helpless to repel the Jokester's sonic brain assaulting attack.
Batwoman and Flamebird's attention was diverted as they saw Omega Woman and Gamma Girl recoiling in intense pain by an unseen, unheard noise. The dynamic duo stopped in shock, wondering just what these villainesses had done to fellow spandex-clad heroines. Jokester grinded furiously on the piece of chewing gum in her mouth and began blowing a bubble with the gooey pink concoction as the stunned dynamic duo assessed the situation.
"Whatever that is, shut it off, now!," shouted Batwoman in a voice or anger and concern with her weapon of choice, the Bat-a-rang, at the ready. "Shut it off before I shut you off, Jokester."
Omega Woman and Gamma Girl bowed their heads with gritted teeth and eyes clamped shut. The piercing sonic waves caused their breathing to become shallow and cries of pain became gasping yelps.
Flamebird turned back to face the villainess Jokester only to see her bright blue eyes alight and a large pink bubble of chewing gum on her lips. The whoosing sound of Jokester's exhaling breath, enlarging the pink bubble, was all she heard before the inevitable POP of the bubble breaking.
"Wha?!?," was all Flamebird could muster before the bubble gum sphere popped in her face. The gooey sticky pink gum blasted forward in a thin sheet of gummy goop. Flamebird was just able to raise her gloved hands just under her chin as she tried to shield herself from the gooey confection blasted in her face. The sticky pink film of goo struck Batwoman's unsuspecting sidekick, coating her masked face, shoulders and hands before her face.
"Ummpphhhhh..," groaned the gummed Flamebird as she struggled to speak and breath under the sticky goop that covered her eyes, nose, mouth, and hands. The gum gave slightly as the Girl Wonder struggled to move her hands and pull the suffocating glop off, but while it stretched..it wouldn't break. Flamebird staggered in panic, stumbling on weak legs, feverishly trying to pull her hands free from their gummy handcuffs and feverishly trying to get a breath of fresh air.
"Flamebird?!?," Batwoman exclaimed as she throw a scared look at her gooped partner, unable to reach her partner in peril.
"Oh, Batwoman?," cooed the Jokester, "You see Omega Woman and Gamma Girl grimacing in pain...and your sidekick trapped in a wad of super-sticky heroine-trapping Jokester bubble gum?"
"Release them now!," shouted an angry and unsettled Batwoman, "Or my Bat-a-rang silences you and your sinister crew."
"Fine, Bat-a-rang us, Batwoman," Jokester replied calmly, "but without my help, Omega Woman and Gamma Girl's brains will be scrambled beyond repair and the Girl Wonder will run out of air very soon unless I have your full cooperation....and you let us escape, unmolested. You decide, save the heroines or take us in, you can't do both."
As Batwoman pondered the decision she faced, she saw Flamebird slowly crumble to the floor as the air tight pink gummy goop wrapped her face and hands. Omega Woman and Gamma Girl continued fight the painful sonic brain waves, attacking their every sense.
"You win," muttered a downcast Batwoman, realizing she had no real choice. "You can leave...but release them, right now!"
Jokester signaled Madame Truffant and her bikini henchgirls to join her at the center of the room, marked with a large "X." They stood close together, almost crowding one another around the mark. The clown princess of crime reached into her suit jacket to retrieve a few items from the inside pockets. From these seemingly small pockets, Jokester grabbed a remote control devise and an aerosol can.
"I told you to release them now!," hollered an impatient Batwoman, realizing time was running out for the heroines.
"In due time, Batwoman," Jokester giggled. "Now, a simple press of the button, and the sonic assault on Omega Woman and Gamma Girl's mind stops..."
Jokester depressed a button on the remote control and both Omega Woman and Gamma Girl breathed a sigh of relief, staggered and almost to the point of collapse, but free from the painful sonic brain-busting waves from Jokester evil earplugs. Once that was completed, Jokester grabbed the aerosol can and cast it to Batwoman in an underhanded lob. Batwoman caught the can in mid-flight, half expecting it to explode in her hands, and threw a steely glance at the grinning Jokester.
"Spray that on the pink gummy goop on Flamebird face and this solvent will dissolve it, but work quickly as the fair Girl Wonder has gone awhile without a sweet breath of fresh oxygenated air..."
With that, the Jokester reached out to grab the stiff and still paralyzed Goldenstar, standing stunned and motionless before this bizarre play. A quick step back brought Jokester back with Goldenstar in her arms in a bearhug from behind and the remote control in her right hand.
"Just a souvenir before I depart, Batwoman," referred to the rookie golden superheroine. "Until we meet again..."
Jokester depressed another button on the remote and the floor beneath the four villainesses gave way, falling like a trap door. In less than a second, the vixens and the captive Goldenstar disappeared.
Rather than follow the vanishing villainesses, Batwoman ran over to her gooped and gummed sidekick, now squirming on the floor as she wrestled the pink blob, and swiftly sprayed the Jokester's special solvent on the encasing pink goo. True to her word, Jokester's spray was dissolving the sinister concotion. The sticky mess melted and rolled off the face and hands of Flamebird as a welcomed gasp of air could be drawn into her awaiting lungs.
"Holy...Bazooka Joe," gasped Flamebird, now freed with only a couple of sticky pink patches on her face and shoulders remaining from Jokester's bubble gum blitz. "Couldn't...couldn't breath."
"Thank goodness, you're OK," Batwoman exclaimed in relief.
"Whew," breathed Flamebird, on all fours trying to steady herself before trying to stand, "just barely, was starting to blackout...good thing I have the lungs of a marathon runner from Kenya or I would have drown in that gummy glop of gum."
"Physical fitness enhances all aspects of our lives, Flamebird," lectured Batwoman. "Now you see why I'm a vigilant anti-smoker."
"Give me a sec to catch my breath, Batwoman," grunted Flamebird as she collected her bearings.
"No problem, I'll attend to Omega Woman and Gamma Girl," Batwoman reassured her partner, "but who was the girl in the gold costume? And how did Omega Woman and Gamma Girl get here?"
"I dunno, never saw her before, but she looks young," said Flamebird in a surer voice, now able to scramble to her feet. "And I knew Omega Woman and Gamma Girl were in town, but how they got in this mess is anyone's guess."
"Well, Jokester grabbed the girl in gold and made off with her in their escape...I just hope she isn't another of the wannabe heroines who can't handle herself...,"
"Let's get the girls from Central City free first, then we'll find out Golden Girl's story," reasoned Flamebird, who rarely was the voice of reason.
The dynamic duo bounced over to the heroines bound in their chairs with Jokester's trick party streamers. With a slash of their Bat-a-rangs. the streamers were cut loose and the freed superfoxes squirmed slightly and exhaled as they constrains gave way. Barely awake from the brainwashing DVD and the sonic brain attack, both slumped forward into the awaiting arms of their rescuers.
"Sonic...earplugs...in...left...ears," Omega Woman said weakly in the arms of Batwoman, "get...them...out."
Batwoman and Flamebird exchanged glances and reached into extract the small silver earplugs hidden in the heroines' ears.
"Omega...comps...," muttered a sleepy Gamma Girl to Flamebird, held tight in the Girl Wonder's embrace, "...on the...table...need...them....."
"Are you two alright?," asked Batwoman as she and her partner lifted the heroines up to their feet.
"I think so," groaned Omega Woman, placed her gloved hand to her forearm as her skull still seemed to throb. "Nothing...a few hours of...sleep can't fix. Gamma Girl, you OK?"
"Omega Head Splitting Headache, but OK now," sighed Gamma Girl.
"Who was that girl with you, gold mask, gold leotard, tights...star on the chest?," asked Batwoman.
"I...I have no idea," replied a baffled Omega Woman, "There was someone else in the room too?"
"Yeah, a young woman...in a superheroine costume," Batwoman continued. "Jokester kidnapped her during her escape."
"After she bound us to the chairs and played that hypnotic DVD on the television," Gamma Girl offered, "I was barely aware of my own name."
"Hmmm...let's get these heroines to a safe place," advised Batwoman, "then we'll see what we can do about the kidnapping."
"Holy underground garage, I didn't know that was there," shouted Flamebird as she walked over to the open trap door at the middle of the room.
The trap door opened to a slide which led to a place where a car or truck had been parked, based on the tire tracks on the concrete below.
"Jokester, Madame Truffant, and the bikini models are long gone," Batwoman advised, "hopefully Gotham's finest caught them on the way out..."
"Don't hold your breath, Batwoman," scoffed Flamebird.
"Enough sarsacm, Flamebird, help me get Omega Woman and Gamma Girl out of here. They've had a long day..."

A short time later, in the underground tunnels that reached out around the area of Gotham known as Chinatown, Jokester had guided herself and her villainous crew, along with the captive Goldenstar, into her bowels of her secret lair. In the dimly lit underground lair, Jokester stood beside a makeshift operating table with Madame Truffant and her henchgirls joined at her side. Candy Cummings, in her alter ego of Goldenstar, was lying on her back, bound to the table with leather straps. Her lovely gold spandex-clad body was at rest, in a state of total slumber, and secured to the table with straps across her shoulders, wrists, waist, thighs, and ankles. Goldenstar's eyes were closed and a look of complete relaxation washed across her lovely face.
"Ladies," Jokester stated grandly, "thank you for preparing my new sidekick on the operating table...well strapped in, I might add...and looking so sweet and innocent as she sleeps of a little squirt of my purple KO gas..."
"Sidekick? When did you get a sidekick?," asked Madame Truffant.
"I grabbed her on the way out of your boutique," Jokester joked. "I'm afraid I left without paying for her. With our original plan in the toilet, I thought it best to salvage a little something."
"Very funny, how long do we plan to stay down here?," Madame Truffant sniffed in disbelief.
"Not too long, just give me enough time to..."readjust"...Golden Girl's neural functions," Jokester explained. "A tweak here and there, just enough to erase all those nasty good intentions and adding a dash of evil, along with a pinch of hypnosis."
"And there's a way to do that?"
"Quite simple, actually, if you're familiar with the electron charges that control neural brain functions," Jokester responed as she placed a thin strip with multi-colored lights across the forehead of the captive superheroine, just above the eyemask. "My brain altering strip should do the trick...first erase the good, add the bad, control the mind, etc...."
The mind control strip began to glow and the lights began to flash intermittenly as the neural reprogramming began. Goldenstar slept peacefully throughout the process, revealing no sign of falling under Jokester's evil mind controlling assault.
"Step back, everyone," Jokester ordered, "the neural reprogrammer takes a while to complete its work. While Goldenchick is being formed into my perfect assistant, her Flamebird to my batty Batwoman, if you will, you must see the costume I made for her..."
Pulling a hanger of the wall, Jokester displayed a bright purple spandex bodysuit, with green spandex bikini briefs, green gloves and boots, and a purple eyemask.
"Now that I have a sexy costume for my Girl Friday, I just have to think of a really good sidekick name...," Jokester thought aloud. "Joke Girl? Jester? Goofy Girl? Hmmmm....I'd need to work on this. Any suggestions?"

THE END (of this story)

[SGWriter]

Good stroy Franco, execllent traps as always.

[superpics4les]

Wonderful Bat-story, as usual, Franco! I can't even imagine what The Jokester has in store for her new sidekick! Incidentally, here's a couple of suggestions for her name: Prank (got that from a character on an episode of The Flash), Giggles, KillJoy, Comedy(wearing a gold mask or the mask of comedy on her costume), EvilJest or BadJest. See if you like any of these. Seeya next time! 8)