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January 12, 2011 / milesandhisfavorites

Girl War 3

Alicia was frustrated.  She had been snooping around the warehouses for a week now, and there was nothing.  Her sisters had been suspicious of recent boy activity in that area.  “Boys,” she muttered to herself.  “And they call themselves human beings.  They were stupid enough to believe that we didn’t want war.  It has humiliating, playing that sob story, but no more!”  Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the nearby woods.  Six shapes emerged.  Humanoid figures on what appeared to be electric blue dirt bikes.  The riders were boys, wearing orange jumpsuits that glowed like reflective tape.  They wore helmets that were simple metal spheres, with a transparent visor covering the face.  On top of the helmets were what looked like twin silver flashlights that shot out a piercing green light.  A boy rode forward, his helmet lights glowing red.  “Going somewhere?” he said with a smirk.

The next morning, Rebecca and Sarah were caught by surprise.  The boys next door had grabbed giant water cannons and had launched an over-the-fence attack.  The two girls were crouched low against their tall brown picket fence, directly underneath three thick streams of water.  Finally, a miniature basketball was tossed over the fence and landed at Sarah’s feet.  Suddenly, the basketball started beeping.  Two seconds later, the girls were soaked to the skin with ice cold water.  “Hydro-Grenade,” Rebecca muttered.  “Oldest trick in the book.”  Sarah grabbed what looked like a foam dagger, stood up, and slashed it vertically at the boys.  A blast of water emerged from the blade and hit the boys.  The three kids fell to the ground and began moaning in pain, rubbing at their eyes.  “Onion juice,” Sarah said.  “Even older.”

Ricky was annoyed.  His dirt bike patrol hadn’t returned yet, and the three raiders who lived right next door to the girls had been defeated.  The Maletopian king ordered a spy aircraft to be sent up over the girls’ house.  He monitored the live feed on his cell phone.  The remote control dragonfly hovered over the backyard, where the girls were celebrating their victory.  Suddenly, two steel towers, each about ten feet tall, rose from the roof of the house.  They began to glow yellow, then orange, then crimson, then pure dark red.  The live feed suddenly dissolved into static.  Ricky cursed like a sailor.  It seemed as if the girls were more powerful then they thought.  And then the final straw came.

About a week and a half after the war had been declared, five minivans drove up next to  the town fountain.  Every boy in the town had gathered, armed to the earlobes with onion juice launchers, water cannons, and Stun Flickers (a kind of weapon that can temporarily stun a person with a flash of red light).  From each minivan marched ten girls, each one carrying what looked like chrome unicorn horns (predictable), only they were sharper than bayonets.  Come to think of it, that’s what they probably were.  Suddenly, the boys heard a clanking noise.  Two robots that looked like Hummer-sized ponies were walking up to the minivans, joining the girls in their assault on the town.  One of the horse-bots walked up to Ricky, who was riding an armored golf cart.  It’s head swung to the side, hovering in the air.  A girl popped out.  “Alicia,” said Ricky.  “So we meet again.  I would have thought that you’d learned your lesson, what with your encounter in the warehouse district and all.”  Alicia just made a thumbs-down at Ricky and raised her fist.  The final battle of the Girl War had begun.

Right away, a line of water cannon soldiers took out the first horse-bot.  Ricky grabbed a sparking stick of metal and jumped at the other robot.  Alicia was wearing big, atomic-age metal glasses that were probably anti-onion juice.  Ricky whacked the glasses, and immediately, sparks flew from the glasses.  Alicia shrieked and chucked the off, giving Ricky just enough time to slap her across the face with an onion juice launcher.  The girl screamed and fell to the floor of the robot.  Two other girls in Scrubs-style uniforms attended to her, while Ricky began to use a Ruster (a special weapon that’s something like a leaf blower and something like a kitchen sink) on the horse-bot’s legs.  The legs soon rusted, and the robot fell into a heap.  Several dozen girls yelled and moaned as their transport hit the ground and folded in on itself, trapping it’s pilots inside.  Meanwhile, a large team of boys riding dirt bikes and carrying Nerf Mavericks cut into enemy lines, slicing the girl troops in half.  The dirt bike riders struggled to keep the two sections apart, as to even out the number of boys fighting each girl battalion.  That’s when Ricky sent out the call for help.

A long time ago, the boys in the big city of Spinneytown had made an alliance with Maletopia, agreeing that in their darkest hour, each would help the other if the call for help was sent out.  “Firebird, Firebird,” Ricky sent out through a makeshift long-distance walkie talkie he had made to connect with the Spinneytown boys.  “This is our darkest hour.  This is the call for help.  Please heed.”  The boys were holding their own against the girls, but another six minivans had transported reinforcements, and it looked like all hope was lost.  Finally, a vast shadow crossed the battlefield.  Everybody looked up, and saw a big black vulture robot soar across the sky.  The entire belly of the robot opened up, and over five hundred boys in night vision goggles and chest plates parachuted into battle, bringing with them three miniature tanks that launched water balloons the size of VAIOs.  The girls didn’t stand a chance.

Ricky drove his golf cart into the heat of battle.  Girls were slashing onion juice at boys, who responded through itchy eyes with extremely accurate water blasts.  The three mini-tanks were taking out three girls at a time with their giant water balloons.  Finally, Alicia, who had escaped the fallen horse-bot, snuck up behind Ricky and tried to take him out with a water balloon that could short-circuit a plasma TV.  But Ricky felt a slight wind on his neck, and smashed his last onion juice launcher in Alicia’s face, mashing it and draining it until it was completely dry.  Alicia’s howls could outmatch that of a wolf migration on a blue moon month.  Finally, the last girl fell.  Someone cried tears of joy.  The Girl War was over.  The boys had won.

The day after the final battle, someone knocked at Ricky’s bedroom door.  It was a girl in a business suit.  Ricky grabbed for a water balloon, but the girl put a firm hand on his shoulder.  She put a piece of printed paper on Ricky’s desk.  It read:

In all regards of peace,

This document, once signed by both the eldest of the Joylas and the king of Maletopia, will bring in a new age of peace and prosperity between boys and girls in all of this great town.  The Girl War was only a setback for our ulterior motive-peace.  Now sign this thing, Ricky.

The slightest etching of a smile came across Ricky’s face.  “Hand me a pen,” he told the business suit girl.  “And, by the way-welcome to Kidtopia.”

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