And so it goes that the old woman, in a yet unmatched fit of rage, remembers, recollects and re-creates the past mixture of strength and fury which once generated her power. Spinostress’ name isn’t forgotten. She turns green, purple and all colours of anger, hate and vengeful intent. Parts of her skin spark, begin to scale and bubble only to breed more sparks. The half side of her face that had remained that of an old woman turns back into the Monster she’d once been. Her nails enlarge, lengthen and sharpen as she aims for anything that is within arms and tentacles’ reach.
In less time than it takes for the policemen to try and seize her, the electrical storm Spinostress engenders confuses and resets the very mechanisms underlying the policemen and their stands: protruding electro-mechanical arms and hands erroneously connect to each other, melt and fuse in a mass of metallic scraps that is rendered unstable and inoperable; all that was fluorescent loses brightness and all colours fade.
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” she laughs defiantly before plunging into oblivion, leaving five policemen standing precariously on a mass of entangled stands, unemployed and as good as their pedestals, ready for the reject shop.
Colonel Loga observes with some degree of incredulity as she falls and her tentacles grow to unsuspected lengths, covering her entire body, and all he can see is some indistinct ball of cluttered and knotted strings falling.
“BITCH!” he yells.
“That’s my girl,” the Captain scorns, “Ain’t that a waste of wombs Colonel?”
To be continued…