a glance as I started handing out the goodies to the girls as we walked. I wasn’t sure about the wisdom of introducing them to chocolate and high fructose corn syrup all in one go, but they had to adjust to the real world sometime.
My mini-van sat all alone in the parking lot, somehow looking sad and neglected. I took a pretzel for myself, tucked the candy away in the shopping bag, and started digging for my keys with my free hand.
The warm lump under my collar wiggled. I took a bite, letting the bitter chocolate and salt melt on my tongue as I snapped off a piece for Wan. “It’s clear,” I said, holding the tidbit up for him. “You’ll like—”
“Greetings, fat one,” snarled a familiar voice.
The possum.
For one long frozen moment, nothing moved. I took in the sight of my nemesis, the scabby old possum with a knobby walking stick, standing on top of my van, his tail lashing back and forth. Surrounding the van was a host of human-sized ninja rats, their faces masked, wearing the traditional black clothing and holding swords.
The small piece of pretzel dropped from my fingers and fell, a long slow tumble to the pavement. Drums started beating, or maybe that was my own frantic heart pounding in my ears.
With a tiny battle-cry, Wan leaped from my shoulder, his sword out and gleaming. At the top of his arc, there was a puff of dust, and Wan stood facing our foes, six feet tall, his own tail lashing back and forth in anger. He looked back over his shoulder at us, the glare of battle-rage in his eyes. “Protect her,” he commanded, and turned back before I could utter a word.
With that, time slammed on the gas and everything exploded into action. In an instant, the girls took dramatic defensive positions, their fans acquiring razor edges, their silk gowns whipping about in the growing wind.
Unfortunately, the fans were too much for the shopping bags. The plastic tore open, and for a moment, delicate little panties of various colors floated away on the breeze.
The ninja rats’ beady little eyes tracked their flight.
Sword high, Wan charged the enemy. I was torn between sheer breathlessness at his heroism and the absolute stupidity of charging a mass of ninja rats.
“Help him,” I shouted.
The girls glanced at me, I swear in unison, gave sharp nods of their heads, and followed Wan in a flurry of silk gowns and steel-edged fans.
The two groups clashed. I stood, stunned, unable to move, clutching my shopping bags as if they would protect me somehow. It was all happening too fast and I watched in terror and fascination.
Weapons sparked off each other, and the fantastical dance began. Swirling pastels against the black and silent ninjas, with their masked faces and pale pink tails. The girls’ faces were lovely in their ferocity, eyes gleaming, black hair swirling about them. It was like a ballet, like an awesome scene in a—
A ninja rat swung his sword in a high arc. Blood spurted from Lotus Blossom’s arm.
I sucked in a breath as the reality of what was happening hit me.
“Back!” Filially Pious was still at my side. “Back to the store,” she demanded. She interposed herself between them and me, pushing me back even as she faced them, two curved swords in her hands.
I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the necklace, sharp and cold under my clothes. The girls . . . my girls . . . they needed . . . protection.
The battle raged on, the ninja rats’ eyes gleaming with hate.
The poster flashed before my eyes, Unnatural Disasters, and my hand flung out of its own accord, pointing to the nearest shopping cart. I wasn’t sure . . . And then I was, as the necklace warmed against my skin.
“Armor!” I cried and the wires of the shopping cart writhed and dissolved into a swirling mass that enveloped Filially Pious. Her dress disappeared, and instead she was encased in the wires, bare skin showing through in ways never thought of by any fantasy artist that I’d ever seen.
She started, blinking, then moved her arms smoothly, weaving her swords before her. With a fierce grin of satisfaction, she ran forward, charging the rats.
“More!” I screamed, and all around the parking lot carts moved and unraveled, seeking out the Warrior-Virgins as they fought. Catching on, each girl leaped for a mass of metal, swirling in mid-air to land lightly on her feet, weapons ready,