Pamela kept insisting upon substituting "who slices cheese" and "vary cook-er-y" for the original lyrics, but other than that the FoDly-plus-Roni group was doing a fairly good job on reproducing the stupendous level of sound and vibrato usually associated with full-chorus stage productions of "The Pirates of Pinzance" as they bowled along Yonge at a clipping rate in the big yellow delivery van belonging to the Happy Souvlaki Deli.

They had already swung by Knight's building for Roni to pick up a change of clothes and to leave Karen Tobin's car, which Roni had borrowed for the day. The FoDs had decided there was no reason that Roni shouldn't continue to drive the van for personal business the next couple of weeks so long as she continued to make the afternoon deliveries as well. The FoDs would still have Pamela's personal vehicle, the Mean Green Machine, if they needed it.

Meanwhile, the FoDs-and-Roni were intent on their mission: to find evidence confirming or denying the Natpackers' involvement in the sabotage to the Deli's supply deliveries. To this end, they were rapidly approaching the neighborhood of Dr. Natalie Lambert's apartment.

Roni skidded around the corner and jerked the big van into a parking space inches in front of a snarling red sports car. The musical tribute to their mission trailed off as the immensity of the undertaking settled in: FoDs were not much accustomed to field activities during Wars. However, what they lacked in experience, they more than made up for in sheer ignorance of the dangers involved, so spirits were high as the piled out of the vehicle and started sliding into the pale yellow overalls that were provided for Deli delivery personnel and, disguising themselves further with stacks of carry-out cartons and boxes, they started towards the apartment block.

Skipping along the walk towards the building, the FoDs-and-Roni noticed strange shakings amongst the shrubberies, sliding shadows where no figure stood and sounds that might have been the whispering of the breeze in the leaves had there been any wind whatsoever.

"What's that?" Roni whispered nervously.

"Lurkers!" hissed Christine, prodding her in the ribs. "Don't pay any attention to them."

"And for heaven's sake, don't stop to talk to them; we'll be here all night," added Pamela.

"Lu--lurkers?" quavered Roni, not liking the sound of it.

"Or spies or hunters or someone we could name if we wanted to has been known to hang around peeking in windows, too, but at any rate, it's bound to be one or another of the other factions or groups or characters going about their, uh, business. Ignore it."

Roni slowed down again. "But, but...shouldn't we, uh, 'lurk,' too?"

"No, no!" explained Pam, "We're delivering. Hurry up."

The four approached the doorman/security guard at the secured door of the apartment block as though completely assured of their welcome. And, indeed, the doorman barely gave them another glance after he had identified their familiar yellow overalls with the Happy Souvlaki logo. He waved them through the door with their loads and the four hurried towards the elevators in the lobby.

Roni slowed to a halt in front of the elevator and was nearly jerked off her feet when Christine grabbed her sleeve to pull her along and Sherry shoved her from behind simultaneously.

"What?!" she hissed.

"Not that way--!" "This way--"

Christine and Sher carried her along with them after Pamela's rapidly retreating figure, around the corner and into the dark, silent well of the emergency stairs. There, by the light of a dim 40 watt bulb, the four quickly divested themselves of the brightly coloured overalls to reveal tight-fitting, dark-coloured burglary costumes. Piling their discarded clothes and empty carryout cartons in a corner, they ran swiftly and silently up the stairs and slipped out into the second floor hall and around the corner to Natalie Lambert's apartment.

"Hurryhurryhurryhurryhurry..." murmured Roni with no sound at all, watching Sher tinkering with the second lock with a thin, angular whisp of metal. Christine stood guard at one end of the corridor and Pamela at the other. Finally, they could hear the tumblers turn over and Sherry flashed her teeth in a grim triumph.

"Coulda been faster if you'd dated Joe more than three times," hissed Pamela, running back to them as the door swung open, "but, n-o-o-o, you gotta drop 'em before the hook is even set--"

"Coulda been faster if we'd spent all our time practicing lock-picking when I was dating Joe," sniped Sher, "but we didn't! Ok with you?!"

"Be quiet, both of you!" ordered Christine as she slipped through the door and made room for the others to follow. She snapped on her penlight and played it around Dr. Lambert's darkened living room. The tiny spotlight illuminated heaped bundles and awkward, bullky shapes that resolved themselves into luggage of every possible description and piles of sleeping bags, bedrolls and pillows.

"Wow! What's all this junk?"

"Natpackers. Apparently they've been having a slumber party."

"What a mess...."

"You should see Nick's place," giggled Roni, who had been sleeping on the floor there, lining up for the bathroom and cold showers with about a hundred other Knighties.

All three FoDs looked at her as though her expiration date were long past. Finally, Pam whispered.

"Takes all kinds, I suppose, but it sounds like a zoo to me."

"Come on," Christine prodded, "look for luggage labeled HIMMANEN first; that's the place to start."

The four fell to burglary with a will, quickly sifting through the reefs of luggage and carryalls looking for airline baggage tags first.

"Here it is!" Roni squealed, excited to be the one to have found it.

"Great! Open it!"

"Open...it? But, but...that's..."

"Yeah, burlgary! What'd you think we came up here for?! This is War, Roni. Open it. Or one of us will."

Roni shuddered at the unsuspected depths of ruthlessness of FoDs aroused to militancy and relunctanly complied. Three pairs of hands immediately began turning over the contents of the bag, which seemed to be larger inside than outside.

"Hey, this is nice!" remarked Sher, fingering a lacey bit of underpinnings. "I thought 'Packers all wore flannel next to the skin!"

"Nah, not all of 'em. Himmanen's got better taste than that. But the question is, what else does she have--Oh!" Pamela pulled a little, leather bound volume out of the folds of a wooly sweater. "This looks interesting...."

"What is it?" queried Christine, trying to see over her shoulder.

"It appears to be...oh, my goodness. Yes! This is it!"

"What?!"

"It's Sharon's...food diary."

"Her what?" asked Roni.

"So what?" chorused the other two FoDs simultaneously, immediately recognizing the item but dismissing it as only commonplace.

"God, lookit what she had for breakfast Saturday morning!"

"Wow!" admired Sherry.

"Uuuhhhh..." pondered Christine, "if it's late Friday night now, how could we know what she's going to have for breakfast Saturday morning?"

"Alernate universe," suggested Sher, unperturbed by the concept.

"Non-synchronomous even horizon," hazarded Pamela, "does it really matter? What we need are the entries for last week...."

"That's too far back," Sherry pointed out, "that meal was last July at Crescent City; I remember hearing about it."

Pam reversed directions and soon found the previous week's days.

"Ok, here it is. Look! Plastic pasta salad!"

"But why did she put that in her food diary?" asked Roni, "She didn't actually eat it."

All the FoDs looked at her pityingly.

"Someday you'll understand, Ron."

"Everything goes in your food diary, Roni. Suppose she wanted some some plastic pasta salad again in a couple of years and she couldn't find the address?"

Roni tried valiantly to imagine why anyone might want more plastic pasta salad every four or five years, if ever at all, and decided that it was probably a Good Thing that she had not officially affiliated herself with the FoDs. Hanging around with them occasionally was confusing enough.

"Ok, we got hard evidence, let's roll--" Christine snatched the book lest Pam and Sherry simply stand there all night reading it and admiring the entries, and stuffed it safely away.

"We're just going to take it?" squeaked Sher.

"What's the point if we don't? Our word against theirs? This is evidence."

"Yeah, but taking a person's food diary--that's low!"

"Donny took Janette's family picture that time; it was evidence," said Pamela firmly.

"Ok, ok, but I don't like it, mucking about with peoples' food diaries. We'll be mistaken for Cousins next--"

"Come on," insisted Christine, pushing shoulders towards the door.

"Ok, ok-a-a-a-o-o-w-w-w-e-e-e-e--" Sher's relunctant agreement turned into a supressed but patently heartfelt shriek and everyone stopped dead in their tracks whispering an urgent chorus of "what is it's."

"HHHHGGGMMMG!" Sher gargled, jumping up and down frantically.

Three penlights focused on her agitated figure, sweeping up and down frantically looking for the cause of her distress.

"Oh, look!" cried Roni, bending low and snatching something dark-and-ill-favored off Sherry's ankle. "Isn't 'e a 'ittle, bitty cutie?

"How in the world--"

"Good grief!"

"Argh," shuddered Sherry.

"What is it?"

"Frog legs on the hoof, I'd say."

"Nah, he's too small. Give him a chance to grow up first."

The tiny amphibian seemed unharmed and content to sit in Roni's palm. Pamela starred at it a moment and a strange smile briefly crossed her face.

"Say, Roni...?"

"Yeah, lookit how sweet he is..."

"Roni, you know Knightie Scottie, don't you?"

"Oh, sure; or, at least, I know her by sight. She's venerated by the Knighties as the Official Waistwatcher and I've never dared to speak to her in person, of course,"

"Fine, good. You wanna give Scottie a really...big thrill? Give her the little froggie! She just loves 'em!"

"Really? Should I?"

"Yes, definitely. Although...." Pamela's FoDly conscience smote her, "perhaps it would be more effective as an anonymous gift. Just put in in her luggage and leave it to surprise her. Don't tell her you found it."

"Can we get out of here now?!" pleaded Christine.

Five minutes later the yellow van careened around the corner opposite Lambert's apartment block and laid rubber on up the street.

Natalie dragged herself into her apartment. All she wanted to do was to take a bath, relax and forget the past night. She'd spent most of the night trying to find those blasted Jeopardy mechanisms. They had been secreted everywhere. Just when she thought she'd found them all, another one would go off.

Nick had thought it hysterical. Everytime he asked a question, one would go off. Eventually, he lost it and started to giggle. Then he started to laugh. If he'd been a mortal man, he would have peed in his pants.

She was going to have to think up some particularly vile protein drink for him to drink, she though grimly.

Natalie stopped at the sight of frantic Nat-packers throwing pillows and seat cushions in the air. Cries of "Where is the thing." "I found another one!" were being screamed at the top of their lungs. Suddenly, she had it. Jeopardy.

"Oh, no!" she cried and collapsed on the only chair that was still intact. It too began playing "Jeopardy." She jumped up and began to tear the chair apart.

"No more," she screamed. "I can't take it anymore."

Concerned Natpackers pulled her away from the chair and took her to the bedroom. This, too, was trashed.

"I think we got them all from here," one said as they helped Natalie to bed. "Now don't worry. We'll find them all."

Quietly, the natpackers slipped out of the bedroom.

Natalie snuggled down into her bed. She could hear the others moving around in the living room, but the sounds were muffled. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, a thought floated through her brain.

She sprang from her bed and bounded over to her dresser and pulled open her lingerie drawer. Frantically, she threw underwear out of the drawer until it was empty. It was gone.

"NO!"

Several of the Natpack burst into the room. They found Natalie collapsed by her dresser, moaning.

"It's gone. Oh my God, it's gone."

"Natalie, what's wrong? What's gone?"

Haltingly, she explained to them what was missing from the dresser.

"We have to get it back," said one of the NP. "What made you keep in your lingerie drawer? You should have kept under lock and key."

"I didn't think. What are we going to do?"

"We'll simply have to find someone who knows where it is."

They helped Natalie back into her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. They scooped up the lingerie and stuffed it back in the drawer. One lingered and picked something up.

"Natalie?"

"Yes."

"How do you wear this without chafing?"

Cousin Jamie winced visibly as the taxicab rattled and thumped and bumped down the street. Potholes in combination with several very large cups of cappuccino, she determined, were a bad thing.

A very bad thing.

With the driver's partition closed and the doors of the cab locked shut, she could see only one course of action open to her. She pulled out her trusty Q-tip gun, aimed at the door handle and fired...

A Q-tip shot out of the gun, hit the door swab-side first, and bounced, ricocheting around the back of the cab like a pinball on acid.

"Oops," said Jamie thoughtfully, "wrong setting." And winced again, because the potholes were very definitely getting worse.

She flicked the switch to "toothpicks" and fired again, and a stream of mint-flavored minispears zipped out and carved a hole in the door; she stuck her hand into the hole and fumbled around until her hand caught something that was apparently the door release.

The door opened, and she threw herself out of the cab, hitting the concrete forcibly as the taxi screeched away.

For a moment, Jamie simply lay there on the ground, gathering herself, and wishing devoutly that she hadn't had quite so much coffee to drink... She was going to have to do something about that, and quickly.

She looked around, but the street she was on was all empty lots and boarded up buildings; no signs of life, or at least, no life that would be willing to allow her the use of their bathroom.

For lack of a better idea, she aimed her gun at an empty space, set it to "random" and fired again, hoping that the improbability field would do something interesting, like create a Port-O-San... but the thing about 'improbability' was that it never quite worked the way you wanted it to; and instead, all she got was a massive heap of Q-tips.

A heap of Q-tips big enough to conceal a person reasonably well...

//Any port in a storm,// thought Jamie.

A short time later, she emerged, Q-tips sticking out of her hair and adhering to her clothing, feeling considerably better physically, but seething. //Somebody is going to have to pay for this,// she thought.

Sharon Himmanen opened the door of the coroner's office and stepped outside, chattering to her fellow Natpackers and feeling quite pleased with herself over the apt revenge she'd arranged for Jamie. //Serves her right,// she thought self-righteously.

A strange sound alerted her, and she looked up...

WHOMP! came the noise, and all at once, a massive cascade of white crystals tumbled down to the ground, encasing Sharon thoroughly.

Jennie and Jill stared in horror as their comrade Sharon was suddenly, instantly transformed into a massive pillar of...

"Salt," said Jill, in stunned shock. "It's salt!"

The other reached out hesitantly to touch. "Not ordinary salt," Jennie said grimly. "The outside's like a hard shell. It's solidifying around her!"

"Oh, no! We've got to get her out of there, before she suffocates..."

From within the white mound, a strange crunching noise could be heard. "Do you think...?"

"She's trying to eat her way out!" said Jennie. "But... but that much salt could kill anyone! Even Sharon! Quick, we've got to find an axe..."

"...or some tequila and lemon..." Jill opined.

"...or something..."

And on top of the coroner's building, Jamie cackled quietly to herself in glee, and slithered off to create more mayhem.

"Quick! Get her inside to that lab right near the door!" Jennie directed Jill. "We can use the safety shower!"

Jill spied a nearby forklift and wheeled it over. Between the two of them, the Natpackers managed to get Sharon onto the cart and wheeled her back through the doors to the nearest lab, which was fortunately not far from the entrance. Jennie pulled the handle. Water came gushing out of it, rapidly eroding the salt, but spattering both Natpackers in the process.

"Eep! I think it's working. I always wanted to turn one of these things on," Jennie commented. "Too bad this is one of those labs they didn't bother designing a drain system for the safety showers in. There's gonna be a nasty flood by the time this is done."

"Well, she could suffocate. This is a life or death situation," Jill replied.

The water had finally worn its way through the salt. Sharon sputtered and choked in the spray, trying to get a breath. The other two pulled her out from under the shower, trying to turn it off.

"It's stuck!" Jennie yelled to the security guard who had just arrived in the doorway, slipping and sliding in the water that had flowed out into the hallway.

The man nodded and made his way over to help her shove the lever back into the "off" position.

"What happened to her? Is she all right?" the man queried.

"She will be, but we'd best get her to a doctor. Thanks, we'll take it from here!" Jill answered.

"But...the mess..." the poor guard tried to point out to their retreating backs.

"Call the janitor!" Jill called over her shoulder.

"Sharon? Quick, drink this," Jennie suggested, handing Sharon a large glass of water.

Sharon made a face. "No."

"Yes. You need to flush the salt out of your system. You never should have tried eating your way out of that thing. You are gonna be so sick..."

She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence.

Selma sat in the hotel room, the modem hooked up and sending and recieving data. She was glad that Nat had let her telnet into her account via the account she had at home.

She'd been playing with the commands on the majordomo program that her friend Wendy's new list was on. While playing around, she accidentally did something to the program. Now it was sending her more than two results... more like about 20. She looked at what she had done, managed to reproduce it, set the list back to one reply, and then thought hard. And then set it back to 10.

Wendy was no doubt busy in another part of Toronto, doing whatever the other Die-Hards were doing. It would take her a while to find out that her Tomorrow People fiction list was now sending out 10 copies of everything to her.

Selma hoped that no one posted anything really long or mult-part that day. She'd set it back later.

Janette had awakened early and gone down to the bar to get a little drink. \\What a strange smell.// Janette wondered, \\What is that??// Pulling a wine glass out of the over-head rack, it broke in her hand. \\Hmmmm, LaCroix must have brought in some cheap crystal in my absence,// she thought.

Pulling down another glass, she felt a tug and then it broke also. Looking around her she started grabbing glasses and bottles off the shelves. They all broke in her hands, or just stuck there. Throwing open the door to the stock room she found more of the same in there.

"MIKLOS!!!!!" Janette yelled.

She could not believe it...someone had broken in and GLUED all of her glasses and bottles to the racks and shelves!

The tired group of Vaqueros had made it safely back to the church.

"I can't belive we did it!" exclaimed Cindy. "It was so easy!"

Torrey and Sherri looked at each other. "Uh, oh. Too easy..." Torrey said.

"I was thinking the same thing..." Sherri said from the corner of the room where she was sitting on a box. \\Vachon needs better furniture...//

"Crystal?" Torrey called out. "I need you to do something for me."

"Yes? What?" asked Crystal, doubtfully.

"I need you to go back to the Raven and check things out; see if Janette is there or not."

Crystal looked at her with horrified eyes... "Go back!" she whimpered.

"Don't worry," Torrey assured her. "No-one will recognize you; the others barely know the Vaqueros are up here. Just look around a little and let us know what you see."

"Right...just look around a little," Crystal whined quietly.

Time: About an hour later

Crystal returned with a confused look on her face and found the other Vaqueros sitting around the church with Vachon.

"You're back!" Torrey exclaimed. "What did you find?"

"She's not there, Torrey," answered Crystal, "I was listening through a door and heard them talking about her being in Paris."

Torrey looked at Vachon.

Vachon looked at Torrey.

Blink.

Blink.

"You said Janette was running the place...did you actually see her?"

"Well, no," answered Vachon.

Sherri tugged on her bangs and started to moan. "I knew it was too easy," she muttered grimly. "Why didn't we ask Vachon if he knew Janette by sight??"

"Did we just attack innocent people?" Crystal asked.

"I don't think so..." answered Torrey. "But something is definitely up, and we had better find out what it is, soon!"

Lisa had waited with seemingly endless patience for all the commotion at The Raven to subside. First the Cousins are thrown out by the Raven/ettes, then they get it back by getting the Raven/ettes thrown out, then they lose it again. Lurking around since the Cousins had been so unceremoniously thrown out, she was amazed by the comings and goings of so many people. All those people milling about made lurking rather difficult. And as LaCroix knows so well, Lisa loves to lurk about, especially when she feels the need for vengeance. All she wanted to do was get back up onto the roof of The Raven so she could finish her search for clues. But, after being caught once by one overzealous Cousin who thought she was one of the enemy, she wasn't about to get caught again. Especially by Miklos or one of the Ravenettes who looked like they wanted to kill something or someone when they had been ushered out of The Raven the day before.

Thinking back over the last few days, Lisa was left with the distinct feeling that she should have stayed at home and waited for all the trouble to subside. After all, she thought to herself, "So far, I've had a case of cotton swabs dropped on my head, nearly killed myself racing up a fire escape while plucking swabbies out of my hair, got all the way up to the roof to try and catch the perpetrator when I got clobbered by Cousin Craig because he thought I was one of 'them' (as if I'd ever waste my time sticking Q-Tips in someone's clothes, paaalease); and then, to top things off, I get dragged into the club like so much garbage. Jeez, a girl could get a complex."

Giving her head a quick shake to clear her thoughts, Lisa furtively double checked to make sure no one was watching, and crept across the street and into the alley that runs alongside The Raven. Checking the darkness for any lurkers, she pulled down the fire escape and, for the second time, began to make her way up to the roof.

Deciding to start at the edge where the attack had occurred, Lisa moved toward the edge of the roof overlooking the front of the building. As she moved forward, she noticed a glimpse of white next to a huge box. "No surprise here," she thought to herself when she saw the huge letters Q-T-I-P-S on the front of the box. But, the white piece of paper was another story entirely. Chuckling to herself, she wondered why anyone would use a credit card to buy a case of Q-Tips and then forget to keep the receipt.

Racing back down to the street with a devious plan for revenge forming in her head, Lisa headed for the nearest pay phone. "Oh, LaCroix is going to LOVE this," she thought to herself.

Finally finding a phone, Lisa called Cousin Chris back in Connecticut.

As soon as the phone was answered, Lisa asked, "Can you get away from work long enough to get up to Toronto to help me out with something?"

"What exactly did you have in mind?" questioned Chris, "Is it something really devilish?"

"Of course it's devilish. Would I ever come up with a plan that wasn't? Anyway, I have a little score to settle with the NatPackers and there are a few things from home that I need. I figured if you could get away, you could bring them up and help me put my plan into action. So, here's what I need you to bring . . . . "

Later that night, Lisa, along with a hired Merc named Elizabeth, who she had picked up at CERK headquarters and enlisted to help, headed to the airport to pick up Chris.

"Is she ever going to get here? I don't want to be waiting here all night. I want some action. Man, I just have no patience for this sh*t. Why did I have to come along to pick up Chris anyway? Couldn't I have just met you later?" Elizabeth grumbled on as Lisa contemplated killing this hired Merc instead of getting back at the NatPackers.

Finally, after having listened to a solid hour of grumbling by Elizabeth, Chris came our of the airport, shuffling along as quickly as possible, juggling two suitcases and a box. Seeing Lisa and Elizabeth, she rushed toward them breathlessly.

"You wouldn't believe the explaining I had to do in order to get these things through customs. Man, you would have thought I had a bomb or something," she said as she dumped her luggage in back of the car. "So," she said as she glanced back and forth between Lisa and Elizabeth, "are we ready to do some damage?"

"Definitely," said Elizabeth as they dumped Chris luggage in the back of the car. "Let's move," she said as the trio jumped into the car and headed toward Natalie's apartment. "This is going to be soooo much fun," she laughed as the car pulled away from the curb.

"Okay, does everyone remember the plan? Elizabeth, you're on duty out here. Your job is to lurk around noticeably. Try to get noticed, but make sure you're not too obvious about it," Lisa reminded her. "Remember, they've just got back into the apartment and cleaned it up after the last attack. They're going to be really uptight, so make it look good."

"Vicki, you and me are going to head in the back way, make our way up to the apartment, and then wait for Elizabeth to get noticed"

"I don't want anyone to mess this up. So, Elizabeth, I know you're eagar, but it's going to take us around five minutes to get set up, so be patient."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it. Let's get on with it. I want some action," Elizabeth growled.

As Lisa and Chris made their way toward the building, Chris whispered, "That's what you get for using a Merc, you know how enthusiastic they can be."

Place: Inside the apartment building, around the corner from Natalie's place

"Would you look at those two? These people need to get some serious psychiatric help. Anyway, Elizabeth should be starting some trouble soon," Chris said.

Just then, a disembodied voice called out from inside the apartment to the two NatPackers on guard outside the door, "Go check around outside. There's a suspicious looking person lurking around. It looks like whoever it is, is letting the air out of our cars' tires or something."

"We're on it," said the two guards as they rushed toward the elevators as fast as their earth-toned business suits and fuzzy-bunny, slipper-clad feet would carry them.

"Okay," Lisa said as she turned to Chris, "we're on."

"What do you want done first?" Chris asked.

"First, tie the rope around the doorknob and then run it over to that other doorknob. Make sure it's tight. I don't want them getting out of there before they have a chance to play with their new friends," Lisa whispered as she knelt before the apartment's door. She opened the box that Chris had brought up from Connecticut and chuckled quietly. "I guess you didn't have any trouble locating these little guys."

"Oh, please," said Chris, "it's Fall in Connecticut, all you have to do is walk into the grove behind my house and you'll see them all over the place," Chris said as she finished securing the rope.

Lisa began pushing the baby tree frogs under the door. They went quite willingly, after being stuck in a box for so long.

"Uh, Chris, I don't remember asking for any gardener snakes or, my God, is that a slug?"

"Well, I thought it would add a little spice to the party. And they are perfectly harmless, although a bit gross."

"Okay, well, you're shoving the slugs under the door. That's just too gross for me."

"No problem," she said as she quickly shoveled them out of the box and under the door.

"All done? Good. Shove the towel in there nice and tight so none of them can crawl back out."

After making sure that everything was secure, Lisa and Chris headed down the hallway. Just as they were about to get into the elevator, the shouting started.

Giggling viciously, they gave each other a high five and went to join Elizabeth to report back into CERK headquarters.

"Ohh! Look! Froggies! My froggies! You can't have them! Get your own froggies!" Jennie yelled indignantly at Amy.

"There are plenty of frogs to go around," Valerie observed sternly, eyeing one that she particularly wanted for herself.

"We should have frog races!" Amy bubbled.

Jill swept the pile of blankets and assorted luggage bits aside, clearing a reasonably large space on the floor. "Here, I get one too!"

The excited Natpackers lined their frogs up.

"What the heck is going on?" came a groggy Natalie voice from the other room.

"Shh!" Elaine whispered, "We woke her up!"

"Sorry, Nat," Sharon called, "We just got a little carried away, didn't mean to wake you!"

"Did I hear you guys say 'frogs'?" The sleepy voice continued, getting louder as the speaker shuffled into the room. "Oh! How cute!" Natalie's face lit up at the sight of the jumpy little beasts. Her gaze shifted a little. "However, these would be better off in the garden," she added, grabbing a paper cup that was lying on the table and scooping the slugs up into it.

"I think there were some other critters here, too. They got under the sofa," Amparo reported apologetically.

Natalie regarded them thoughtfully for a moment. "So we're going to have to flush them out and catch them? Refresh my memory. You guys are staying here, why?"

"Because it's a party!" Jennie gushed. "And it's best to all be in one place for those. Besides, we didn't bring these in here. They just appeared."

Nat rolled her eyes and handed the cup to Valerie. "I'm in my jammies. Please escort these guests to the garden."

"Gotcha! Although Feliks might be able to use them for his plants," Valerie suggested.

"Yeah, whatever. Just get them out of here so I don't have to clean them up later. I'm heading back to sleep," the ME mumbled as she made her way back into the bedroom.

Valerie picked up a random set of keys and headed over to the door. She turned the knob. "You're supposed to open now," she told the door when it refused to budge. She tried several more times. "Hey, the door won't open!" she yelled.

"Try unlocking it," GT suggested helpfully.

Valerie glared at her. "It IS unlocked!"

"Here, let me try," Jill offered. She walked over, and threw her weight into pulling at the doorknob. "Nope, looks like they've secured it somehow from outside."

"Oh, come on. This is a piece of cake. Now, where's Nat's toolbox?" GT asked. "We'll just take the hinges off."

Betsy obligingly brought the toolbox from the other room. "Here it is!"

"Pliers, nurse." GT held out one hand.

Betsy found the appropriate tool and slapped it into GT's palm. "Pliers," she echoed.

"Ow! Don't do that, they only slap tools into the surgeon's hand like that on TV. Surgeons need to keep their hands working," GT scolded, pulling the pins out of the door's hinges.

"Sorry, doctor. Will the patient live?" Betsy fought to keep a straight face.

"Of course. It's in my hands," the doctor quipped, dropping the pins somewhat more gently than Betsy had been into her "nurse's" hands. She carefully pulled on the hinges to loosen the door from the frame, then leaned the door sideways in the doorway. "Voila! Oh, that's cute. Simple, but effective. They just tied this door handle to the one across the hall. We'd best untie it so the neighbors aren't annoyed!" She kicked a towel which was sitting on the floor outside further into the hallway, then untied the rope from their doorknob. "Off you go, then, Valerie, I have to put Nat's door back before she decides to kick us out or something. I can't believe they thought that would keep us in, though. There are far too many MacGyver fans in this faction."

Valerie slipped out with her slimy charges and GT began putting the door back on its hinges. Leslie came over to help hold the door steady for her, but Amy and Jennie remained where they were on the floor, cooing at their frogs and keeping the little critters out of harm's way.

"We need to find an aquarium to put them in, so they don't get stepped on," Jennie suggested. "I'll be happy to stay here and keep an eye on them if someone will go do that. We can use Brabantian money."

"Brabantian money?" Amy quirked an eyebrow at this.

"You know, from the Brabant Foundation. That was just shorter to say." Jennie shook her head.

Amy just nodded. "Uh-huh."

Amparo held out her hand. "I'll go," she volunteered. As Amparo headed out the repaired door, Valerie came back in. "I just left them in the garden after all. were hanging around outside have finally left."

"What weird women?" asked Amy.

"The two-wardrobe impaired ones out front - you know, the ones in the business suits with the fuzzy slippers. Apparently the fact that we'd noticed them and were calling to them about the car's tires freaked them out, 'cuz they're nowhere to be seen now. I mean, who wears a business suit to just hang around somebody's door?"

"Unless it's for work, you wouldn't catch me dead in one of those things," grumbled Jill, gently petting a froggie. "They're too much trouble."

"Besides, they were wearing slippers with them," said Valerie disdainfully. "If you're going to put a suit on, regular shoes don't require that much more effort." She glanced around the room at an entire group of women in jeans, leggings, t-shirts and yes, some still in pajamas, and giggled. "I'd guess everyone here agrees with me, too!"

"Oh, I'm glad they're gone. They were a little too creepy. I thought one of them had followed me from home," Leslie shuddered.

Their heads turned as Natalie came shuffling out of the bedroom, pulling her hair back in a scrunchy. She held out her hand. "I can't sleep - give me a frog. Let's race."

Lisa and Chris were standing in the hallway waiting for the elevator when they began to distinguish words within the squeals coming from Natalie's apartment. They looked at one another, then looked towards the ceiling, and shook their heads in disbelief.

"Do these people have a life?" Chris asked. "Please tell me that I didn't just hear someone say something about . . . froggie races?"

"You heard it," Lisa replied, wondering how such a delicious little scheme had turned into such a mess. "But hey, let's remember, the object was to keep them occupied and distracted, and I'd say that they are definitely occupied. So, let them play their little games and set up their aquarium, as long as they, and their Q-Tips, are out of our hair for the time being. Anyway, let's go I think I just heard someone mention MacGyver. That can only mean trouble in the hands of a NatPacker."

Getting a far-off glazed look on her face, Chris mumbled, "Maybe next time we should send fried frog legs instead of the actual frogs? Hey, there's an idea. Know any restaurants or grocery stores that deliver?"

Groaning, Lisa dropped her head in resignation and said, "Look, you do whatever you want, just make sure you use your own money and don't mention my name. Knowing those NatPackers, they'll just munch away and think it's half-time at the races."

"I think I'll check into it anyway, you never know. After all, would they be so unfeeling as to eat the legs of their 'cute little froggies?' These are NatPackers afterall," Chris said.

With that, the elevator arrived and the pair began to make their way down to the street. Once outside, they headed around the corner to where Elizabeth was waiting with the car.

"Hey you guys, it's about time you got here. I was just about to head up to see if you were in trouble or something," Elizabeth said when she saw them coming.

"We're fine. The plan went off without a hitch . . . although the results weren't exactly . . . ummm . . . anticipated," Chris answered.

"So," Lisa said while glancing around, "what happened to the bunny women?"

With an self-confident grin, Elizabeth replied, "Well, they made several really stupid mistakes. Ahem, the first mistake was, of course, that they neglected to hire me themselves. The second was that they came outside to try and take me on. The third was that they split up to try to find me." At that, Elizabeth burst out into gales of laughter.

"Dare we ask what you did with them?" Chris ventured.

"Take a look," Elizabeth said while pointing to the backseat of the car.

Lisa and Chris leaned in close to see and were quite bemused to see the two bunny women, tied up securely and apparently unconscious.

Seeing the looks on their faces set Elizabeth off laughing again. Once she had regained a bit of composure, she said with an uncharacteristic sneer, "So, let's go and bring your darling 'Uncle' some dinner."

"No, no, no, no way. You remember what the group said, 'No More Kidnappings!' That's all we need. Bring in these two and we're more likely to be dinner than they are," Lisa reminded them.

"So, then what are we going to do with them?" Elizabeth asked impatiently. "I didn't knock them out and tie them up just to let them go."

"Well," Chris said after a moment of thought, "maybe we could gather a little information and then let them go."

"Ohhhh, that sounds like fun," Elizabeth said while rubbing her hands together in anticipation of practicing her interrogation skills.

"Honestly, we're not in the NatPackers. We were trying to get in, but they didn't seem to want us around," the more vocal of the pair of prisoners whined. "We showed up and they took one look at us and told us to wait out in the hallway. When they told us to check downstairs, we thought it was some kind of test for acceptance. But, if what you overheard was right, I guess they didn't trust us after all."

"And Natalie always seemed so nice," the other one whined, which touched off the sobbing and moaning again.

Lisa, Chris, and Elizabeth looked at each other, rolling their eyes, thinking about these poor pathetic little wretches. Motioning for Chris and Elizabeth to huddle in close, Lisa asked, "What are we going to do with these two?"

"A quick painless death would be good," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly.

When the other two turned to look at her, Elizabeth said, "Well, they are totally pathetic and it would certainly put them out of their misery."

Lisa replied, "That's true, but Uncle would never do a thing like that. He likes for people to suffer. He'd leave them to wallow in their misery and just turn up now and then to rub it in a little and remind them how pathetic they are."

Nodding in agreement that that would definitely be worse, they set to thinking about what to do with their prisoners.

"I Got It!!!" exclaimed Chris. "Since they're so disillusioned with Natalie, couldn't we possibly use them for something? Maybe convert them?"

"I don't know," Lisa replied wearily, "this could be an act you know. A rather pathetic, degrading act, but an act nonetheless." Let's check in with headquarters, see if they have any objections. Chris, run out and find a phone booth, call CERK headquarters and check with Deb, if she's totally against this, we're dropping them on a corner and getting out of here."

"Hi all, I'm back," Chris called as she came through the door. When no acknowledgment came back she said, "Jeez, someone die in here?"

"No," Elizabeth snarled, "but while you were gone, we've had to listen to these two whine about the heartlessness of the NatPackers and how disappointed they are and blah, blah, blah, boo-hoo-hoo. I need major amounts of chocolate and I NEED IT NOW!!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!!"

"Okay, okay, sorry I took so long. No need to get so uptight," Chris said with a total lack of sincerity. Looking up, she saw Lisa holding Elizabeth, who looked like she was about to kill something, back. The look on both of their faces spoke to the extremely serious nature of the current situation.

"I think you better just tell us what Deb said," Lisa growled.

"Well, here's the weird thing. Deb wasn't there. She's sick, got the flu or something, so I couldn't talk to her. But, I asked the person who was taking the calls, and she said that Uncle's so pissed off now that there's nothing we could do that could possibly make it worse," Chris explained.

"And this is supposed to be GOOD news? Why is Uncle mad? What happened?" Lisa asked.

"It actually pretty bad," Chris said with a shudder. "I almost don't want to even repeat it, it's so horrible."

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Lisa and Elizabeth shouted in obvious annoyance.

"Ah . . . someone . . . spliced into Uncle's radio show and played . . . (mumble, muble)"

"Played what?" Lisa and Elizabeth asked while straining to hear what Chris was saying.

"The Barney theme song," Chris replied in a whisper that was barely audible.

After a moment of stunned silence, Elizabeth burst our laughing, just about rolling on the floor, and Lisa simply stood there with a totally astonished look on her face. "The Barney song?" Lisa moaned. "They played the Barney song on Uncle's radio show? That's sacrelige. We'd better get back there quick. I think the sh*t is going to be hitting the fan in a rather major way."

The trio began moving towards the door when they were disturbed by the sound of sobbing behind them. "Wait, what about us? Are you just going to leave us here?" the two tied up captives asked.

"Well, that still leaves the questions of what we're going to do with them," Chris said. "Oh, by the way, I found a store that carries frozen fried frog legs. They deliver," she said with a very un-Cousinlike giggle. "I'm having a case sent to our froggie racing friends."

"Great, back to frogs," Lisa said in exasperation. "Well, even though they said they liked black and found Uncle rather attractive, they don't have the required Cousinly distance and disdain. We'll drop them off a on a corner somewhere. If they ever decide on an affiliation, they know where to find everyone. At least there won't be two more NatPackers out there on the loose. Let's move."

As they untied their captives and the group headed towards the car, Elizabeth hummed the Barney song under her breath. Lisa and Chris looked at each other and tried to figure out whether or not they were going to make it through this seemingly endless day.

After having dropped off their captives in a sufficiently well-lit area of downtown Toronto, Lisa, Chris and Elilzabeth pulled up and parked outside of CERK headquarters.

Lisa turned to Elizabeth and implored, "Would you please stop humming that song?!? If Uncle hears you, he's going to go absolutely ballistic, and although I can't think of a better way to die, I'd rather not be his dinner at this particular point in time."

"I'll try, "Elizabeth replied, as the group got our of the car and headed toward the entrance of CERK, "but you know how it is when you get a song stuck in your head. It's impossible to stop until something else takes its place. 'I love you, you love me, we're a happy family.' It's just so catchy!"

"How did I get myself into this," Lisa moaned as the group walked in the door CERK.