(Or, A  Faithful and True Account of the Thrilling Adventures
of the Galactic Super Squad, With Extra Helpings of Big Scary
Aliens and Some Gratuitous Sex, Hold the Anchovies)

by Nene Adams

Captain's Log Entry: Captain Alexandrina Badaboom, commanding officer of the Galactic Super Squad reporting. My crew and I, having faced the hideous peril of the lesbian vampire toe-sucking parasite lap dancers of Woof Woof XVI, and having braved the even more hideous perils of answering one of the universe's most enduring mysteries - "What does a Scotsman wear under his kilt" - have now been sent to a previously unexplored area of the galaxy. Our mission? To respond to a series of distress calls from a small planet in the Slash galaxy and hope something interesting happens. Once we've straightened that out, we'll be returning to Woof Woof XVI for a few more rounds of "This Little Piggy." Badaboom out.

Alexandrina clicked off the recorder, leaned back in her expensive, chrome-plated captain's chair (a VibroEZ Relaxor 3000 with all the bells and whistles) and contemplated the bridge of her ship. When at peace, Alexandrina's steely blue eyes took on a softer, more cerulean hue, enhanced by the skin-tight indigo catsuit she wore over her taut, muscular body.

Suddenly, a voice over the intercom interrupted her thoughts. "Captain! There's a crisis in Engineering!"

Her finger stabbed a button on the console at her side, while her black eyebrows drew together in a frown. "What is it, Gigi?"

Lt. Gigi "The Abdominator" Potahto, Chief Engineer, shouted in reply, "It's an absolute mess down here, Alex! By the gods, I've never seen such a terrible thing. My crew's in hysterics. We're doomed! Oh, the humanity! The humanity!" She broke down sobbing.

Alexandrina leaned forward, tension apparent in the set of her shoulders. "What's wrong? Tell me, dammit!"

Still weeping, Gigi said, "The espresso/cappuchino machine... is out of order."

The captain was shocked speechless for a moment. The bridge crew began to mutter in panic. "What? No mochachino? No half-decaff double latte? No more single mocha with a vanilla shot?"

"It's out of order!" Gigi said loudly, causing two of the bridge personnel to collapse. "I've pushed the poor machine as far as it can go, and it can't take anymore!"

"Anything else?" Alexandrina finally asked, forcing herself to speak past the lump in her throat.

"Yes!" Gigi hiccuped twice, then continued in a raw, shaken voice, "We're completely out of Tampax."

The sheer, screaming double horror shocked Alexandrina to the core. Behind her, several other members of the bridge crew keeled over.  The captain took control of herself quickly. "Sick bay to the bridge, on the double," she ordered, then turned to her Science Officer. "Well, Yaya, what's your take on the situation?"

Lt. Yaya, a native of Babia Majora, tapped a red lacquered nail against her full and pouting lips. "We have a more immediately pressing contretemps, Captain. Our sensors have picked up a Scumulon ship within three light years of our position."

"Scumulons!" Alexandrina's hands curled into fists. "Those dirty, stinking, filthy bastards!"

"Just because they have cultural prohibitions against washing and their religion forbids marriage doesn't make them Enemy Number One," Dr. Clamm pointed out, coming onto the bridge.

"That is correct," Yaya replied, "however their predilection for destructive practical jokes does make them official Galactic Super Squad enemies."

"I remember the time those Scumulons sent a massive barrage of banana cream pies towards Sappho IV," the captain mused angrily. "Not to mention the whoopie cushion episode on Quim two years ago. And who can forget the phony vomit and plastic doggie doo incident during the Queasy Tummies conference of '04?"

Gigi Potahto made her entrance just in time to hear Alexandrina's last sentence. Artificial light glinted off her short-cropped, strawberry blonde hair. "Scumulons? I laid in some stink bombs to use as counter-measures, just in case."

"What is their status, Yaya?" Alexandrina asked.

The statuesque blonde examined the closest monitor to her position. "They appear to be farting in our general direction, captain."

"Damn those cheeky buggers! Keep monitoring them, Yaya. If they get too close, we'll wait until they're asleep, then stick their hands in a basin of warm water." Alexandrina chuckled, envisioning sweet revenge.

Dr. Clamm revived the comatose bridge crew, who re-assumed their stations. "We could put transparent plastic wrap over their toilet bowls before replacing the seats," she offered. Everyone turned and looked at her. She shrugged, brunette curls dancing. "It was just a suggestion. Honestly! I'm a doctor, not a sadist."

Alexandrina shuddered. "I wouldn't even do that to Scumulons."

"What about the espresso/cappuchino machine, captain?" Gigi asked, green eyes appealingly wide. "We could swing by Starbase 7-11 and pick up some supplies."

"Never! Don't you remember the last time?" The captain began to sweat at the recalled memory which she'd tried so hard to suppress. "The frozen burritos... oh, gods! The burritos!"

Dr. Clamm swiftly administered a calming sedative. "I've told you not to bring up that subject again," she admonished Gigi. "You know how it upsets her."

"Sorry." Gigi scuffed a toe into the neutral tan carpeting. "What are we going to do?"

"I apologize for the interruption," Yaya said, looking not at all regretful, "but the Scumulons have given us the finger and warped away."

"Hah! They have a warp drive so cheap, you can see the string," Gigi gloated.

Yaya continued, "We will arrive at the planetary coordinates in the Slash galaxy in one hour, twenty-seven minutes."

"Then I suppose we have enough time for gratuitous sex," Alexandrina said, eyeing Gigi, who giggled. The captain was over her trauma and ready for action. "Care to examine my captain's log, honey-pie?"

"Oooh, Alex... you give me goosebumps when you say that," Gigi replied, melting against the other woman's body.

"My apologies again," Yaya said, twisting a lock of blonde hair around her finger, "but it seems I have been remiss in my calculations. We will actually reach the planet in one minute, twenty-seven seconds."

Dr. Clamm pouted. She had already removed her lab coat, revealing a rubber corset, fishnet stockings, and a tattoo across her backside that read, Get it Here. "In that case, I'll just go back to Sick Bay and sulk a while."

"Establish orbit and open hailing frequencies," Alexandrina ordered, giving Gigi a significant 'we'll finish this later' look.

Lt. Aphrodite Venus, the Communications Officer, swiveled her chair around, giving everyone on the bridge a good look at her well-stuffed beaver. "Hailing frequencies open," she said in her soft, melodious voice. "I am attempting contact on all channels." The toy animal on her lap, with its flat tail and buck teeth, was her constant companion. Aphrodite caressed it while flipping switches with her free hand. "Captain, I have Procounsel Cameron from planet DragKing on the line."

"Transfer it to the viewscreen." Alexandrina sighed, wondering why a grown woman was so attached to a stuffed effigy of a long-extinct creature. Still, she could not deny Aphrodite her beaver; it was in the officer's contract. "This is Captain Badaboom of the Galactic Super Squad. We've received your distress calls. What can we do for you?"

Procounsel Cameron proved to be a crew-cutted brunette, dressed in a three-piece Armani suit, with carefully applied fake beard stubble dotted on her cheeks and chin. A cigar smoldered in the corner of her mouth. "We're under attack, captain! My planet is being invaded by Femmebots... aargh!" A beam of light shot out from the side of the screen, enveloping the Procounsel entirely.

The bridge crew gasped. Someone passed out popcorn. Everyone awaited the exciting, potentially gross finale with bated breath. Alexandrina motioned to Yaya. "Femmebots? Is this some new multi-tentacled monster with bulging blood-shot eyeballs, a ravening appetite for flesh, and a penchant for passing out Indian rope burns?"

Yaya shook her head. "Unknown, captain."

"Fine. I'll just have to wait and see it for myself without any spoilers." Alexandrina leaned back and stabbed a button on her console. The chair began to vibrate gently, while soothing ocean hisses and seagull cries issued from the headrest speakers.

At last, the light dissolved into a thousand sparkling motes, which in turn transformed into glittering confetti and bubbles (courtesy of some extremely costly CGI special effects). Procounsel Cameron was revealed. Everyone screamed in horror, and popcorn flew from nerveless hands.

The formerly butch Procounsel was now wearing a vintage Balenciaga chiffon evening dress with beaded bolero jacket. Her hair was a towering, teased, heavily sprayed beehive of platinum blonde. Tasteful cosmetics - a touch of rouge and lipstick, mascara and eyeliner - had been applied to her face. A Gucchi handbag dangled from a gloved wrist. She teetered on a pair of Fendi platform shoes and wailed, "No! No! No!"

"Won't somebody help that poor woman?" Dr. Clamm demanded.

"By the great, gray-green, hairy buttocks of Ur-Shoowaddy," Yaya said in amazement, "I've never seen anything like it!"

The whimpering Procounsel was shoved aside by a voluptuous woman... or at least, it appeared to be a woman at first glance. Statuesque and beautiful, the Femmebot powdered its dainty nose from a compact and said, "Resistance is futile. Prepare to be assimilated, Galactic Super Squad." Perfect ivory teeth flashed in a perfectly plastic face. From the top of its immaculately coiffed head to the tips of its torpedo-pointed breasts and below, the Femmebot was a nightmare vision of industrialized femininity in pure pink satin.

"You fiend!" Alexandrina raged. "What have you done?"

The Femmebot checked to be sure its smile was free of lipstick smears before putting the compact away in its designer handbag. "You must comply. Resistance is futile. Prepare to be boarded, Captain Badaboom... right after our tae bo class, a body wrapping session, mud packs, hydrocolonic therapy, and the Ladies Flower Arranging Society microbiotic brunch."

"No!" Procounsel Cameron screamed as she was dragged away by another Femmebot.

"What are we going to do, Alex?" Gigi whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the unnerving sight.

Alexandrina rubbed her temples. "Call a strategy meeting of the senior staff. Get Dr. Clamm to break out the tranquilizers. And for the love of everything you hold dear, get that espresso/cappuchino machine fixed!"

"Aye-aye, captain." Gigi gave the other woman a quick hug before darting off the bridge.

"Yaya, I want you to find out everything you can on these Femmebots," Alexandrina said to her Science Officer.

"What about me?" Aphrodite chimed from her communications console.

"Send a message to Galactic Command. They need to know about this situation. If we don't stop them now, the Femmebots will take over the entire universe." Alexandrina cocked an eyebrow at Aphrodite. "This is the greatest single threat that we've ever had to face."

"Um, bigger than the bikini waxing mimes of Armageddon VI?" Aphrodite asked, compulsively stroking her stuffed animal.

"Well, no, but..."

"Or the mad scientist on Itsy-Bitsy III who developed that strain of deadly ingrown toenail virus?"

"Not exactly..."

"Oh! How about the persistently annoying off-key hummers of Babylonia XXX?"

"Lieutenant! Just play with your beaver."

"Aye-aye, captain."

Alexandrina made a mental note to get some aspirin. It was going to be a long episode.

Later, a cup of steaming double latte with a blueberry shot nestled in her hand, Alexandrina glanced around the conference room. Besides Dr. Clamm, Gigi, Aphrodite and Yaya, the senior officers had been joined by the Chief of Security - a burly well-muscled giant of a female from planet Dieseltown, named Bull.

Bull, who scorned trendy caffeinated drinks, was sipping from a cup of normal coffee that smelled as if it had been brewed from manure and raw petroleum products. Her wavy dark hair was greased up into a pompadour. Huge swells of muscle distended the fabric of her uniform sleeves. "So, we're up against the Femmebots, eh?"

"Do you know these creatures?" Alexandrina asked.

"Not personally." Bull made a face, reached into her pocket and pulled out a stinky cigar stub. "On Dieseltown, parents terrify their kids by telling them to behave, or the Femmebots'll get 'em. I always through they were a superstition." She lit a match by scratching it against her thumb, and began puffing on her foul weed.

"Not so," Yaya said. She consulted the computer monitor sunk flush into the table top. "Femmebots have a peculiar past, but I assure you, they are quite real. What do you know of Old Earth history?"

"Not a lot," Alexandrina admitted. "I cheated on my final Squad entrance exam."

"Didn't everybody?" Gigi smirked. She had changed into a tank top that showed off her superb abdominal muscles. "I knew a girl who used to get quiz answers holo-tattooed on her girlfriend's..."

"Ahem!" Yaya interrupted. "Please allow me to continue without digression."

"Bitch," Gigi muttered, but the Science Officer ignored it.

"On Old Earth, there was a cosmetics cult led by a powerful, messianic figure named Marie Okay. She was deified after death by her followers, who formed a new religion based on personal beauty, including flawless foundation, perfectly formed eyebrows, glamour make-overs and superb skin care. During the PMS Riots of the 24th century, following clashes with the authorities, the cult was forced underground, and finally, off-planet.."

Yaya paused to scroll through her notes. Alexandrina drummed her nails on the table impatiently. "Is there a point to this?" the captain asked.

"In the middle of the 25th century, a new leader rose from the Okay cult, a scientist who schemed to dominate the universe," Yaya said.

Gigi interrupted, "Isn't that just like scientists? One minute, they're tinkering around in the lab; the next, they're plotting universal domination. Hah! Give me engineers any day. Our experiments don't turn us into megalomaniacal nut jobs. Yeah, so we get a little crazy when we ask for an eleven-sixteenth and some moron hands over a five-eighth..."

"Are you quite finished?" Yaya shot her a quelling glance. "As I was saying, Dr. Tiffany Ootsie-Foo created the Femmebots in a secret laboratory on Pinkywink IX. Our records are not clear, but it seems the Femmebots' programming mutated somehow, turning them into utterly fanatical girlie-girls. They killed Dr. Ootsie-Foo with an overdose of Super Shine lipgloss and low-fat salad dressing. At this point, the Femmebots disappeared. I speculate that they built a ship and have been traveling outside the known universe, assimilating various alien cultures into their own vision of perfection."

"Awful!" Dr. Clamm sniffed her cup. Everyone looked at her. She shrugged. "I mean, I ordered a skinny latte, and I got a regular cappuchino."

"Can we stay on topic here?" The captain wondered if she should take two more aspirin. "Okay, we have a horde of fanatic androids - presumably indestructible by conventional means..." She waited for Yaya's nod before continuing, "and capable of the kind of atrocities we haven't seen since Jerry Lewis movies were banned. They are intent upon assimilating innocent populations into their cosmetics and fashion cult, and use extreme force to do so." Alexandrina put her palms flat on the table. "We have no choice. The Femmebots must be stopped at all costs."

"I saw what they did to Procounsel Cameron," Bull rumbled. She pulled a lasgun from her leather tool belt. The weapon was set on maximum faster-pussycat-kill-kill-kill. "I'll be saving one shot for myself before I let the Femmebots turn me into a travesty."

"Oh, I dunno," Dr. Clamm replied, wiping cappuchino foam from her upper lip, "I think you're an Autumn, myself." Everyone stared at her. She shrugged. "I'm a doctor, not a comedian."

"Obviously." Alexandrina drained her cup. "All right, people. Do we have any clever ideas to save the universe from the threat of the Femmebots? Let's keep a few things in mind..." She ticked off points on her fingers. "They're indestructible. They cannot be reprogrammed. Attacking them will only piss them off.  Our best defenses are useless, as are our most powerful weapons." She groaned and let her hand fall onto the table. "We're screwed."

"Not necessarily," Gigi said, narrowing her emerald eyes. "I think we should go back in time to Pinkywink IX and stop Dr. Ootsie-Foo before the Femmebots break free."

Yaya put a finger to her lush crimson lips. She did this often, because scientists were brainy and damned sexy, too. "It could work."

"Personally, I think you only suggested the old time-travel bit because your Guild of Engineers holds the patent and members get royalties every time somebody jaunts to the past. I mean, c'mon!" Dr. Clamm tossed her head, making brunette curls dance. "Got hemorrhoids? Go back to the past and eat more fiber. Blah, blah, blah. Why can't we do something that doesn't involve time travel... say, make a remote connection between the Femmebots' program cores and our ship's database, and download a nasty viral program that'll make them all look really skanky, and give them terminal cellulite.

"Or," she continued, warming to her subject, "we could try the classic logic trick, where we make them believe that we always lie, then tell them we're telling the truth. The conflict will blow their minds." Everyone looked at her. Dr. Clamm shrugged. "Like I said, it's a classic. I'm a doctor, not a screenwriter."

"Time travel it is," Alexandrina said, ignoring Dr. Clamm. She pushed back her chair and stood, striking a heroic poise that involved thrusting her breasts out so far, it seemed her nipples were attached to chains pulled by athletic elephants. Her jaw clenched. She gave the room a brilliantly dramatic glare before uttering in her best declamatory mode, "Alert the crew. All hands stand by for temporal slip-stream. Let's go kick some perfectly plasticine butt, people."

Gigi squealed and applauded, paying no attention to Dr. Clamm's muttered, "Bitch."

Following some incredibly expensive special effects, the Galactic Super Squad found themselves back in the 25th century, on the planet Pinkywink IX, ready to infiltrate Dr. Tiffany Ootsie-Foo's secret laboratory. They had all assumed disguises, the better to blend into the Okay cult.

"How did we know the lab was in this exact location?" Alexandrina asked out of the corner of her mouth. Her lips were succulently moist, having been coated with a coordinating shade of lipstick (Passion Plum #3) that matched her cheekbone highlighter (Moody Dusk) and nails (Wine Wine Wine).

"I extrapolated the coordinates following careful perusal of the historical record," Yaya replied, fluttering extra-long false eyelashes. Her blonde hair was swept up into a tasteful bouffant flip.

"She means, she looked it up in the Universal Yellow Pages," Dr. Clamm said, squinting at herself in a small mirror. "Is my nose shiny?"

"No shinier than my beaver," Aphrodite answered, holding up the well-polished animal. In the spirit of the hour, she had glued a tiny pink ribbon to the creature's head. The ornament matched the ribbons that were threaded through her swinging braids.

Gigi snorted in disgust, nearly dislodging the fake beauty mark perched kissably near the corner of her mouth. "I think I have a run in my stockings, dammit."

"Well, these stupid heels are killing my feet!" Bull complained, lurching against the wall. In deference to the covert operation, she had covered her short pompadour with a magenta wig. "And I really miss my cigars."

"Quiet!" Alexandrina hissed. "Someone's coming!"

Hastily, the Squad smoothed their designer gowns, checked their handbags, and began toying with the strings of pearls around their necks. An Okay cult member came around the corner, a vision in marabou and taffeta. Spying the Squad, she made several passes with her hands in front of her face, as if applying rouge in a big circle on each cheek, saying, "Hail to the goddess of exfoliation! Hail to She who banishes the demons of spots, baggy eyes, and that monthly not-so-fresh feeling! Hail!"

"Hail!" they all answered, mimicking the woman's movements. "I'm Okay, you're Okay!"

Alexandrina had briefed herself on the cult's customs. She quickly asked, "We're on our way to Dr. Tiffany Ootsie-Foo's laboratory to give her a manicure, but we got lost. Can you perhaps direct us?"

The woman eyed Bull, who simpered and tittered behind a raised hand. The muscular female was covered from neck to toes in a vintage Halston dress, with Yves St. Laurent scarves floating here and there to disguise her solid figure. At last, the cult member replied slowly, "Down three levels, it's the second door on your right. I haven't seen any of you girls here before..."

"Um, no... we're from out of town," Dr. Clamm said, just as Gigi's elbow connected with her ribcage. The doctor fell forward, coughing, and was caught by Yaya.

"She's had a one-too-many martini lunch," Yaya explained, fluttering her eyelashes even more furiously.

"I see." The woman pursed her lips (covered in Flaming Crimson #59) and said, "That's funny, about Dr. Ootsie-Foo wanting a manicure, when I just did her nails yesterday. Where did you say you were from?" Her hand inched towards a button on the wall with a sign above it that read: Intruder Alert.

"Oh, to hell with this!" Alexandrina administered her infamous martial arts move, the Slap and Tickle, developed over decades of meditation, esoteric study and watching many badly dubbed chop-sockey movies. First she slapped the woman across the face, then she dug fingers into her sides while yelling, "kootchie koo," her mouth movements not in synch with her voice. Finally, when the victim was too out of breath to fight back, Alexandrina whacked her head against the wall until the woman's eyes rolled back and she collapsed.

Bull sighed. "I could've just punched her the one time," she said, raising a knotted fist that was roughly the size of a basketball, only much, much harder.

"Yeah, but she's the star, and you're not," Gigi said, cocking her head at the captain. "Which is why she gets all the action, hubba hubba."

Alexandrina blew out a breath, and dusted off her knuckles on the front of her Pucchi silk print dress. "Let's go."

Leaving the unconscious cult member behind, the Galactic Super Squad clattered their high-heeled way towards Dr. Ootsie-Foo's secret laboratory.

"We are approaching the doctor's inner sanctum," Yaya said, stopping in front of a map of the complex. There was an arrow that read: You Are Here. Death traps every ten feet. We gave at the office. The check is in the mail. "Lt. Venus, do you have our weapons?"

Aphrodite reached into the bosom of her wildly patterned Hermes cocktail dress. After rummaging around a few moments, she came up with six lasguns and passed them around.

"Set your weapons on I'm-not-kidding-annihilate," Alexandrina ordered. "No futzing around with sam-peckinpah-slo-mo, either. We're going to go in, destroy Ootsie-Foo's lab, and prevent the doctor from creating the Femmebots. Then we'll pop back to the future in time to catch Naked Gladiator Chicks Chocolate Pudding Wrestling on cable."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Gigi said. Yaya, Bull, Aphrodite and Dr. Clamm nodded in approval.

Clustered together, the Galactic Super Squad walked down the dramatically back-lit hallway, which by means of forced perspective seemed longer than it actually was. At the end was a door marked: Danger! Secret Laboratory! By appointment only. If this lab's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'.

Alexandrina led her team onward. When they had at last met their goal, she gripped her lasgun and said through clenched teeth, "On the count of three... one... two... three!" She burst through the door, the Squad tumbling in on her heels.

"Ah... I was expecting something of this nature to occur," Dr. Ootsie-Foo said, not at all disturbed by the weapons-waving women who had appeared in her laboratory. She was a pretty blonde who would have been prettier had she not slathered her skin with enough foundation to repair Hadrian's Wall. "Those pesky time-travel devices are soooo passe. Do come in, ladies, and shut the door."

"You're a cool one, aren't you?" Alexandrina snarled. "We're here to stop you from implementing your nefarious scheme to take over the universe! Surrender, or I'll mess up your hair and give you a nuclear wedgie!"

Dr. Ootsie-Foo inclined her head. "I wear thongs," she replied calmly.

"Ooooh!" Everyone was impressed by the doctor's unspeakable bravery.

"You're too late, Captain Badaboom. Ah, yes... I know your identity. Just as I also know the hideous manner of your demise! Woob woob woob!" Dr. Ootsie-Foo reached up a hand and ripped off her face, revealing two staring, scary plastic eyeballs, a mesh of winking lights and tangled wires, and a piece of spinach wedged between the bars of her mouth-grill.

"By the red, itching, inflamed scales of Ur-Psoriasis!" Yaya exclaimed. "You're a Femmebot!"

"In a manner of speaking, your deduction is correct." Dr. Ootsie-Foo leaned casually against the edge of her desk. "This is an improved cybernetic multi-functional anatomical replacement container. I built it to reflect the perfection of beauty in the female form, and downloaded my personality into it. Argle argle argle!" She leaned forward. Sparks shot from her eyes. "No more liposuction! No more collagen injections! No more facelifts that leave you looking like your ponytail's pulled way too tight! No more! I shall live forever... I shall be beautiful forever! Snarf, snarf, snarf!"

Alexandrina glanced at Yaya. "Your analysis, lieutenant?"

"Here? Now?" Yaya sighed at the implacable look on the captain's face and pulled a small plastic container out of her handbag. "I realize that regulations state the commanding officer may order compulsory testing on a random basis..."

"No, I meant, what is your analysis of the situation."

"Oh." Yaya put the cup away, relieved (or not, as the case may be). "I deduce from Dr. Ootsie-Foo's strange manner of laughing that her personality has begun to degenerate. In less than three minutes, all traces of her human self will be subsumed by a violent surge in basic programming, thus creating a proto-Femmebot. This will, no doubt, replicate itself in a perpetual cycle..."

"Yap, yap, yap!" Gigi pointed her lasgun at the artificial Ootsie-Foo. "I say, let's toast this bitch and get the hell outta here!"

Alexandrina also pointed her weapon at the creature. "Fire at will!"

"Um, Will who?" Dr. Clamm asked.

"I mean, use your lasgun to annihilate that robot-thingy over there! Geez, is it me, or did you and Yaya take stupid pills this morning?" Alexandrina paused. "Just forget it. Shoot to kill!"

Everyone fired at the proto-Femmebot, who yawned and examined her inch-long, beautifully lacquered fingernails. There was no effect at all. Instead of showering Ootsie-Foo in a fusillade of deadly laser fire, there were a few fizzles, a pop, and a miniature cloud of sparkly light that quickly disappeared.

"Oh my gods!" Gigi shook her lasgun frantically.

Alexandrina was examining the muzzle of her weapon in puzzlement. At Gigi's outburst, she asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"No... don't tell me..." Aphrodite gathered her beaver in both hands and squeezed tightly.

"Yes!" Gigi's eyes bulged in disbelieving terror. "We've run out of special-effects budget!"

Even the normally rock-solid Bull had to gasp as the full horror of their situation struck home with a dull thud.

Dr. Ootsie-Foo laughed insanely. "Gap gap gap! Hee hee hee! Snarf, argle argle, woob! Now the Galactic Super Squad is doomed!" She slapped her face mask back into place, tucking the edges beneath her taffy-blonde wig. "The Femmebots will bring order to the universe. We will bring beauty, peace and mineral mud wraps! Resistance is futile!"

"No!" Bull surged forward, huge hands poised to rend and tear. Dr. Ootsie-Foo merely drew back her dainty little foot and kicked the giant woman through a wall.

"Resistance is futile." The proto-Femmebot slid off the desk. Make-up brushes and eyelash curlers extruded from her fingertips. "Join us and be beautiful forever."

"You crazed pile of spare parts from an abandoned salvage yard! Prepare to be destroyed!" Alexandrina attacked, using martial arts moves that, while very impressive, somehow never manage to connect with her opponent. After feinting and dodging, while Ootsie-Foo looked on in bewilderment, the captain executed an series of flips and rolls. When she finished, Alexandrina's hair was becomingly tousled, and the bodice of the dress torn to reveal her taut, toned body to the hip. A sheen of sweat gleamed on her revealed flesh.

Ootsie-Foo rolled her eyes. "Resistance is futile," she repeated, punching the captain in the jaw. Alexandrina fell to the floor, unconscious.

"You fiend!" Gigi sobbed. "You'll pay for your heinous crimes, you monster!"

"Yeah, we're gonna get heinous on your anus!" Dr. Clamm interjected. Everyone looked at her. She shrugged. "I'm a doctor, not a pithy catch-phrase writer."

Yaya confronted Ootsie-Foo. "Having thoroughly analyzed your functional systems, I am now prepared to administer a fatal solution which will render you harmless."

"Snarf snarf snarf! Woob woob woob!" The proto-Femmebot giggled. "And how do you think you'll manage that, eh? I am indestructible! I am unstoppable! Resistance is futile!"

"With this!" Yaya whipped out an unidentifiable blinking, beeping object. "The Ronco Tri-Chloridium Reversal Ray with Optional Swiss Army Knife Attachments, Pasta Maker and Armpit Waxer!"

"Ack!" Ootsie-Foo backed away.

"Status report..." Alexandrina muttered woozily.

"You're laying face down on the floor with a probable concussion, and your boobs are damn near hanging out," Dr. Clamm replied. "From what I can see, it must be mighty cold in here."

"I mean, what is the status of our situation?"

"I dunno." Dr. Clamm scratched her head, sighed, and ambled over to an espresso machine in the corner of the laboratory. Various fizzes, hisses and choked-gasp gurgles issued from the copper-plated monstrosity. "Bull got tossed through a wall. Aphrodite is strangling her beaver. Gigi is over-acting again. Yaya is threatening Ootsie-Foo with some kind of weird device. You were out cold, nearly bare tittles waving in the breeze..."

"Okay, I think I have the picture now, thank you." Alexandrina levered herself off the floor. "The mad-scientist robot got in a lucky punch. That's all. Just a lucky punch."

"Uh-huh." Dr. Clamm busied herself making cappucchino. "Anybody want a raspberry shot? Oh, yuck. It's the really cheap stuff that tastes like detergent."

"That's it!" Gigi winced as a gigantic, though illusory, lightbulb blazed brightly over her head. "Hmph. They're really scraping the bottom of the F/X barrel now. Anyway, gimme that!" She snatched the cup of steaming coffee from Dr. Clamm.

Meanwhile, Yaya had backed Ootsie-Foo into a corner. "One press of this button," she said, "will render you completely inert." The Science Officer attempted to press the button. There was a snap, and a heart-broken wail from Yaya. "By the yellow, flaking, irritated scalp of Ur-Dandruff! I've broken a nail!"

The proto-Femmebot ripped the Ronco device from Yaya's hand. "Argle argle argle! I will rule the universe now!"

"Not so fast!" Gigi skipped over to Ootsie-Foo, feinted left, and hurled the piping hot espresso into the robot's face.

"Ack!" Sparks flew. Arcs of electricity snapped from every orifice. Ootsie-Foo reeled backwards, her hair on fire. "The raspberry shot! The raspberry shot!"

"The one thing her system could not tolerate." Yaya examined her broken fingernail with regret, then turned her attention back to a beaming Gigi. "How did you know?"

"Everything - her brain, her body, her bubbly butt - is completely fake. One more artificial ingredient caused her to overload."

"And now to finish it!" Alexandrina dived at Ootsie-Foo. A magnificent scuffle ensued, during which the captain managed to get the rest of her dress ripped off, leaving her clad only in a pair of flesh-colored bikini briefs that were definitely creeping in the back. "I hate girls named Tiffany, anyway! Take that, you foul wearer of pearlescent blue eyeshadow! And that!"

Gigi clapped her hands together in excitement. "Oooh, baby... I love it when you get rough!"

Bull wandered in, now wearing a pair of grease-stained overalls, a baseball cap, and with signature cigar perched in the corner of her mouth. "I found some decent clothes at last. Those frikkin' high heels were killing me." A pair of adoring ex-cult members were draped across her burly arms, cooing and sighing.

Alexandrina finished off the flaming Ootsie-Foo with a devastating wedgie. Briskly rubbing her hands together, she flipped an errant lock of dark hair back over her shoulder and declaimed, "This Femmebot... is totally f'd up.."

"Oh, Alex... " Gigi melted against her captain's body, kissing her chin. "Did the big bad Femmebot hurt my widdle butchie-wutchie?"

"Not now, honey-pie. Later, when we're back aboard the ship..." Alexandrina gave the other woman a significant look from incandescent cerulean eyes. "I'll let you play with my captain's log."

"The one with the racing stripes? Oh, goody!"

"Our mission here is done." Alexandrina struck another pose, so heroic she nearly poked Gigi's eye out with an extra-straining nipple. "The Femmebot threat has been eliminated. Let's go home."


"And if we're lucky, we'll get back in time to watch Monster Sex-Kittens of Ultimate Perkiness on cable."


Alexandrina paused, scratching her head. "Um.. does anybody remember where we parked the time travel pod?"

And so ends another thrilling adventure of the Galactic Super Squad! Join us next time when the intrepid crew face their most dangerous mission yet...

Invasion of the Cold-Sore Kissers from Planet X!

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