Six brave warriors walked majestically across a plain. They walked tall, with their shoulders back and their eyes held with pride. The sun, just rising, highlighted their heroic features and shone as it reflected off of their weapons. This was Card Club.

A little ways behind them, another figure followed. He walked with an uneven, shuffling step. His back was hunched. Even the light from the risen sun seemed to avoid him, leaving him in shadow. This was Karl.

Unfortunately for the Card Club, Karl had proven more difficult to get rid of the second time around. While still remaining his usual spineless self, he had learned a few things. He had learned to dodge sharp objects when thrown. He had learned to detect the tone of voice that indicates, "Swift and painful death is imminent." He had learned to never, ever argue with Tiffany. Plus, he was surprisingly fast, making him difficult to lose.

Finally, Ben had come up with a new strategy for dealing with Karl, something along the lines of, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." His was, "If you can't ditch 'em, make 'em your bitch." Karl was useful for running errands, and for some odd reason he always had money, which is not something that could be said of the Card Club. In addition, he had no way of recognizing serious commands from fake ones, so if the group needed him away for a long time they could say: "Hey, Karl. We need some ice. But not just any ice. Get it from the North Pole." And then, when he returned: "Oh, did we say North Pole? We meant South Pole. Yeah. South Pole. Get moving." It turned out that Karl was a lot easier to bear when you stopped saying things like, "Karl, if you don't leave we're going to strangle you with your own hair. Your back hair," and switched to saying things like, "Karl! Fetch me a danish!"

One day, while Karl was off getting them snacks, the Card Club rested from all of their valiant questing (which really means doing nothing). Joanie was asleep, but she was awakened by a soft kick and looked up to see Ashley and Tiffany with familiar expressions on their faces.

"Let me guess," she said. "You got me another weapon to try, right?"

"Not exactly," said Tiffany.

"We figured weapons weren't really your style," said Ashley, "So we got you something else to defend yourself with."

"Here you go!" said Tiffany, and she dropped something large and heavy onto the ground. It landed with a WHUMP.

"Well, they are right that weapons aren't my style," thought Joanie. She stood up and looked at he object. It was round and made of iron, with a handle on the back. "It's as big as I am!"

"It's a shield!" said Tiffany, excited as usual.

"Now you don't have to attack to be able to defend yourself!" said Ashley

"How can I defend myself with a shield that's as big as I am?" asked Joanie

"Well, since you can fit your whole body behind it, I guess nothing will be able to hit you! No part of you will be left unguarded!"

"I guess so . . ."

"Come on, Joanie," said Tiffany, "Let's try it!"

Tiffany led Joanie away from the tree she had been sleeping under to an open area. "Now," she said, "I'm going to charge at you, and you raise your shield to block my attack, okay?"

"Um, okay."

Tiffany charged at Joanie. When she got close, Joanie lifted the shield as fast as she could, but it flew out of her hands and landed near Selma.

"Watch where you're throwing that bloody shield!"

"Sorry," said Joanie. She picked up the shield and walked back to where Tiffany was standing.

"All right, I'll go slower this time, okay?"

"Sure."

Tiffany advanced on Joanie again. She swung up the shield to block again, but she slipped in the mud and the shield sailed past Ashley's face, missing by about six inches.

"Whoops."

"Okay, this time I'm not going to move. I'll just stand next to you, and you hold the shield where I punch."

"Got it."

There was a loud THUD as Joanie dropped the shield. It rolled toward where Ben was lying down, and tipped over onto his, um, unmentionable regions. He woke with a start.

"Damn it, Karl!" he yelled, as the group had fallen into the habit of blaming Karl for everything that happened to them. He stood up and rolled the shield back toward Joanie.

"So Ben," said Patsy, "What's our plan now?"

"Just wait for the rest of the PM's to show up, of course," said Ben.

"But, we haven't run into any PM's for a long time," said Ashley.

"What if they've given up?" asked Selma

"Oh, I don't think they would give up," said Ben. "Joe can be very . . . persuasive." He looked up. "Holy polt! Duck!"

The four of them fell to the ground as Joanie's shield went sailing right through where their heads had been.

"Joanie!" scolded Tiffany. "Just because you're discouraged doesn't mean you should throw your shield away! Go pick it up!"

"Yeah, yeah."

A little ways away, two figures were in a tree. One was crouched, the other standing. The crouched one was tall and gangly, and the other was short. The branches shrouded them in darkness. The tall one took his blowgun out of his mouth and threw it on the ground.

"I don't get it!" he said. "Every time I try to shoot one of them with a poison dart, the little one throws her shield and blocks it!"

"It doesn't matter," said the other. "I will deal with them myself."

The tall one looked up at him with a mixture of awe and horror on his face. Then he looked back out toward the Card Club. His well-trained ears heard a whine in the air. "Ah, crap! Look out!"

An hour or so later, Karl returned with snacks. "Okay, guys," he said, "I've got two Cokes, two Cherry Cokes, one whiskey, one Jamba Juice . . ."

Karl was rudely interrupted by a brief but intense burst of spontaneous combustion.

"Ashley," said Ben, "Remember? This time we decided we weren't going to kill Karl? At least, not as long as he still had money."

"Yeah!" said Tiffany. "You could have at least waited until after he gave us our drinks!"

"Me whiskey!" cried Patsy

"My Jamba Juice!" cried Joanie

Everyone turned to glare at Ashley.

"But, I didn't do anything . . .," she said, with a meaningful pause at the end, giving the group time to turn around and see the person standing behind them. Well, not standing. More like jumping up and down in an odd victory dance.

"Ha ha!" the figure cried. "I did it! I killed one of the members of the Card Club! None of the other PM's were able to kill even one of you!" He stopped dancing for a second. "Why aren't you all weeping for your fallen comrade?"

Ben elbowed Tiffany. "What?" she asked. "Oh. Um, no . . . not . . . Karl. How could you," she said, her voice extremely monotone.

"You . . . bastard," said Selma, in the same tone of voice.

"No, not like that," said Patsy. "Like this: (switches to South Park style voice) Oh my god, you killed Karl!"

"You bastards!" yelled Ben

"That's better," said the figure, who was very short with blond hair. "I think I should introduce myself. I am Nathan, Master Wizard of the PM's. Now, one of you must challenge me in a wizard's duel. Who shall it be?"

"Huh," said Ben. "Which of us could fight in a wizards' duel?" He paused, briefly. "Not it!"

"Not it!" cried Selma

"Not it!" yelled Joanie

"Not it!" said Tiffany. "Patsy, you go do it!"

"What?" said Patsy. "Oh, fine." He started to walk toward Nathan.

"Um, guys," said Ashley, "Maybe you should let me handle this."

Sudden realization dawned on the rest of them. No one said it, for fear of looking stupid, but they all were thinking, "Oh, yeah! Because she's the wizard! I knew it all along."

Nathan and Ashley moved away from the road. Nathan drew his staff from his cloak. It was shorter than Ashley's, but it was jet black, polished so much that it looked like it was made out of metal instead of wood. He held it over his head, and a platform of earth raised itself from the ground, about two feet high. The platform was about twenty yards long and eight yards wide.

"Here we shall duel," said Nathan.

"No, really?" asked Ashley

Ashley and Nathan got up on the platform. They stood back to back in the center, then started walking toward opposite ends of the platform (twenty yards split in half is ten yards for each person, so sixteen steps to the end. yeah, eight to five!) On the ninth step, both of them spun around. Nathan shot a fireball at Ashley. She ducked, and then rocked the earth under him to trip him.

"Shouldn't they walk ten steps before attacking each other?" asked Joanie

"No," said Selma, "This is a wizards' duel."

"Oh, so wizards only go nine steps?"

"No, wizards always cheat."

Nathan picked himself up from the ground. "That was pretty good. It looks like I'm going to have to use something a little more powerful than a simple fireball. Darkness and Shadow come forth!"

He lowered his staff and a bolt of purple and black energy shot out at Ashley. "Holy polt!" she cried. "I mean, Holy Bolt!"

Sky blue energy lanced out of her staff. The two bolts collided between them with a huge explosion. The Card Club applauded.

"Cool!" said Joanie

"What are they doing now?" asked Joanie

"They're summoning," said Ben.

"What's that?"

"They're calling upon magical beasts of tremendous power to fight for them."

"Lazy bastards," said Tiffany.

"Ye know what would make this fight a lot more interesting?" said Patsy. "Booze."

"Yeah, and popcorn!" said Selma. "Bloody Karl! Why'd he have to spontaneously combust when we need him?"

Nathan looked up. "I call upon Diablos, master of the underworld!"

A large black circle appeared on the platform. Demonic runes traced themselves on it in shades of orange and red. Then, the circle exploded, revealing a fiery pit. A huge, black, winged demon flew up through the hole, which closed after him. It hovered in the air above Nathan, flapping its wings menacingly.

Ashley looked up. "I summon Tonberry!"

A much smaller hole appeared in front of Ashley. A little figure jumped up out of it. It was about two feet tall and green, with yellow eyes. It wore a shabby brown robe, out of which poked a short tail, two stubby feet, and a head shaped like a turnip. It carried a lantern and a small knife.

"That's it?" yelled Tiffany. "Tiny lizard thing versus huge demon?"

"Just because something is small doesn't mean it can't be powerful," said Joanie.

Tiffany was about to make a witty comeback to that, but something in the way Joanie said it made her stop.

"Ha ha ha!" yelled Nathan. "Diablos, crush that insect!"

The demon swooped down toward the little creature. When it was just about to strike, the Tonberry held up its knife. The demon ran its gut into it, and there was a loud DOINK. The demon disintegrated in a cloud of dust.

"Whoa," said Patsy.

"That was awesome!" said Tiffany

"Doink?" asked Selma

Nathan stamped his feet in a fit of rage. "Damn! It looks like I'm going to have to use the ultimate power. The Ninth Element, Gravity!"

"Oh no," said Ben, sarcastically. "What's he going to do, make her float up off of the ground?"

Nathan held out both his hands and the Tonberry blew away, like something made out of sand in a heavy windstorm. "Just try and attack me!" he yelled

Ashley shrugged and blasted a lightning bolt at Nathan. As it approached him, it split into smaller and smaller pieces until eventually it was gone. "What the polt?" she thought. She shook herself, then sent a shockwave through the earth toward him. There was a brief rumbling, and then suddenly there was no earth between them. "What is this power?" she cried

"Now you see," said Nathan. "Gravity is not just the final element, it is all the other elements combined! Gravity is the force that holds the universe together." He got an evil grin on his face. "Now, what do you suppose would happen if I reversed the gravity in a small space?"

A shimmering sphere formed around Ashley. She started to move forward, but was paralyzed by pain. It felt as if her body was trying to pull itself apart. She looked down, and saw the ground disintegrating beneath her feet. She could even feel the air splitting.

"Uh, Ben," said Selma, "Maybe we should go help her."

"Nah," said Ben, "She looks like she can take care of herself."

Sweat poured down Ashley's face, then immediately split into hydrogen and oxygen, then into subatomic particles. It was taking all her will to keep herself together. She looked down at her robe, and saw something shiny. She blinked (which is very hard to do when your whole world is evaporating), and saw that it was unaffected by the reversed gravity. With all her strength, she reached her hand toward it, then flicked it away. It flew out of the sphere and embedded itself in Nathan's staff.

Nathan began to shake. Bolts of purple lightning traced their way along the staff, which was vibrating rapidly. "What is this?" he screamed. "What is this?"

The staff exploded violently. The sphere disappeared, and Ashley fell to the ground. There was silence for a moment. Then, Ben started to clap, very slowly. A second later, Tiffany joined in, then Selma and Patsy and finally Joanie. The clapping got faster and faster until it was a roar of applause.

About an hour later, Ashley woke up. The rest of the group were still clapping. "Shut up!" she yelled. "You're giving me a headache!"

The group stopped and stood for a few seconds with their hands still in the air, looking confused. Ashley walked over to the other end of the platform. There was a crater there, with no trace of Nathan or his staff. However, the shiny object was still there. She picked it up. It was made of metal.

"What is that?" asked Ben, who had come up with the rest of the group.

"I don't really know," said Ashley. "It was just stuck to my robe."

"Let me see it," said Patsy. Ashley handed it over, and Patsy looked at it in his palm. "This is a shard from Pat's tuba!"

"Of course!" said Ashley. "Pat's tuba had anti-magic plating, so when it got stuck in Nathan's staff it was like two opposites coming together and it exploded!"

"But we fought Pat a long time ago," said Tiffany. "Are you saying that that shard has been stuck to your robe ever since then?"

"Well, we don't change clothes much, so, yeah, I guess so."

"A fitting tribute to the death of Karl," said Ben.

"Who?" asked Tiffany

After checking Karl's charred pockets for money, the Card Club moved on to the next town. They stayed at the inn, because, well, they were tired, okay? All of them were asleep, except Selma. (Ninja never sleep. This is the Code of the Ninja.) She was doodling on a pad of paper, despite the lack of light. She heard a noise, and flung her pencil out the window.

"Ow! That really hurts!"

There was a loud crash as a figure dressed in black fell through the window. He pulled the pencil out of his thigh and moaned.

"Wow," said Selma, "You're bloody bad at this."

"Shut up!" The man stood. He was taller than Selma, but he looked like a strong breeze could push him over. "I am Ian, Ninja Master of the PM's! I am the warrior of the shadows!" He drew his sword and ran at Selma. "You cannot beat me!"

Selma ducked, but Ian tripped over his own feet before he could reach her. She jabbed in the stomach with the hilt of her knife as he fell, knocking the wind out of him. She shook her head at him. "A ninja is silent and graceful. You are neither."

Ian spun and threw his sword at Selma, but she easily deflected it and it flew out of the window. "This is boring," she said. "A real sword fight would have been fun, but I'm not even trying here. You'd better go while you still have the chance."

Selma turned her back on him, but his leg shot out and knocked her down. "Okay, so we won't have a real sword fight," he said. "That's fine by me. I fight better unarmed anyway!" A quick blow from his left fist knocked her knife out of her hand as she tried to stand.

"Selma, I have no idea what the polt you're doing, but keep it down up there!" yelled Tiffany. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

Ian ran at Selma, and spun his fist at her in a roundhouse punch. She ducked easily, then kicked him hard in the stomach. Before he could regain his composure, she spun and her other foot connected with his head. He staggered for a second and fell to his knees.

Selma looked down at him. "You are better, but still not that good. How did you end up being a ninja, anyway?"

"Well, Joe said we needed a ninja, because you guys had a ninja. I was the only one that didn't have a job yet. I've never really been much good at fighting. I'm more of a strategist."

At this point, Patsy came through the room. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be sleepwalking. He bumped into Ian, said "Pints all around!" and walked back mumbling something about gin.

Ian stood up. He had a doofy grin on his face. "Well, I may not be silent or graceful, but at least I can be sneaky like a ninja. Before I came after you I slipped in down there and poisoned all of your friends. If you want me to give you the antidote, then you must beat me in . . . a game of chess!"

"You mean this antidote?" asked Selma, holding up a small bottle filled with red liquid.

"Crap!" said Ian. "Crap, crap, crap!" He hung his head. "Oh well. Can we still play chess anyway? I'm tired of fighting. My stomach hurts."

Selma sighed. She felt sorry for the not-really-wannabe ninja. Plus, she needed some way to pass the time until dawn. "Fine, we'll play."

Ian pulled a chessboard out of his ninja suit and set it down on a table. He and Selma both pulled up chairs and sat down. "Your move first," said Ian.

Selma picked up a pawn and slid it forward. As soon as she set it down, the board flashed. Ian started to laugh, his voice darker than before. Selma tried to stand up, but she couldn't leave her chair. "What is this magic?" she asked

"It is an enchanted chessboard," said Ian. "Neither player may leave until the game is finished. In the end, one of us will live and the other will die. Now, play me!"

Ian picked up a knight and set it back down. He leaned back, awaiting Selma's next move. Selma was worried. She was pretty good at chess, but had a tendency to get distracted and make dumb mistakes. Plus, Ian seemed very confident. Someone wouldn't play chess on a board that might kill him unless he was sure he would win, would he?

Selma made a few more moves, and then Ian took one of her pawns. She felt a small shock in her hand. Ian smiled. "The board inflicts pain upon the player when one of the pieces is taken. The pain is proportional to the value of the piece. You get only a small shock for a pawn, but it gets stronger for rooks, knights, etc. When the king falls, you get a shock so powerful it kills you."

Selma started to sweat. She wasn't doing well, and Ian was getting his pieces set up to checkmate her at any moment. A few moves later, Selma lost her queen. She screamed.

Ben came running up the stairs. "Selma!" he cried out, and tried to run to her. A powerful force field around the table knocked him back.

"You cannot interfere," said Ian.

"I may not be able to fight you, but maybe I can help in some way. What game are you playing?"

"Chess," said Selma.

"Oh." Ben paused. "Better not listen to me then. I'm not so good at chess."

Selma sighed. "I know, Ben. I've played you before."

She looked down at the board. She was trapped. No matter what move she made, Ian's next move would be checkmate. She looked up at Ian. He was smiling. He knew it too.

Ben looked over her shoulder at the board. He may have been no good at chess, but he knew when someone was beaten. He whispered to Selma, "I have a plan." He walked over to Ian's side of the table. "Hey," said Ben, pointing out the window, "Look over there."

"Over where?" asked Ian. "At what?"

"Just look."

Ian shrugged and turned around in his chair to look. As he did so, Ben ran back over to Selma and whispered, "Flip the board around!"

"What?"

"Flip the board around!"

"Ben, it's a bloody enchanted chessboard. That's not going to work."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Selma sighed, and spun the board so that now she was black and Ian was white. Ian turned around. "Your move," she said.

Ian looked down at the board. He paused. Then he started to sweat. "This . . . this is impossible!" he said

"Make your move."

Trembling, Ian picked up a piece and moved it. Selma slid her queen down the board. "Checkmate," she said.

Ian clutched his head and screamed. The board flashed white, then the whole room went pitch black. The was a high-pitched wail, and then the light returned to normal. Ian was gone.

Selma stood up. She looked at Ben. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem," said Ben. "That's the only way I know of winning at chess."

"Oh, you should probably drink this, before I forget," said Selma, handing the small bottle to Ben.

"What is it?"

"Just drink it if you don't want to die, okay? But leave enough for everyone else."

Ben shrugged and took a small drink from the bottle. Then he picked up the board and threw it out of the window. It landed on a passerby's head. "Ow!" he cried. He reached up and grabbed his head. "Damn! I wish I could just find that stupid Card Club and be done with this. Ever since I joined up with Joe, nothing good has happened to me."

The next day, the Card Club left town to continue on their journey of waiting to run into PM's.

"Ben," said Selma, "What happens when we run out of PM's to kill? How will we find Joe then?"

"Well," said Ben, "Hopefully after that, Joe will come to us."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Um, we win?" suggested Ben, hopefully.

The group went up a hill, then stopped when they saw someone sitting on a large covered object. The person looked at them and got up. He was short and heavy. "Are you the Card Club?" he asked, sounding very tired.

"Uh, yeah," said Ben.

"Thank god! You have no idea how stupid I've felt sitting here asking every group that passes by if they're the Card Club."

"Are you one of the PM's?" asked Ashley

Joanie suddenly recognized him. "He is! He's the one that attacked me in the alley!"

"That's right. I am Cecil, the useless one."

"So, are you going to fight us or something?" asked Tiffany

"No. I'm just going to reveal Joe's secret strategy and tell you how to find him."

"Oh, that's convenient," said Patsy.

"So where is Joe, anyway?" asked Selma

"Joe has gone on a little ways ahead, in preparation for carrying out his ultimate plan. You will find him at the Temple of the Ancients. He has gone there to seek the ultimate destructive magic, which he will call down upon the earth to destroy you all!"

"Hmm . . . Temple of the Ancients . . . ultimate destructive magic . . . this all sounds so familiar . . ." said Ben

"Is there anything else Joe wanted you to tell us?" asked Tiffany

"Um, yeah," said Cecil. He looked embarrassed. "He said, 'Finish off that idiot Cecil, so that I won't have to worry about any of the PM's anymore.'"

"Well, if he insists . . .," said Tiffany.

"Ah-hah, I think not," said Cecil. "I'm going a little against Joe's grand plan here, but you're not going to kill me!"

"And how are you going to stop us?" asked Ashley. "You said yourself you were the useless one. How can you fight?"

"By doing what the useless one always does: cheating!"

Cecil pulled the canvas cover off of the object, to reveal something gleaming in the sun: a Gatling gun. "You can't possibly win against this technology!"

The group stood frozen as Cecil loaded the gun. Tiffany had an inspiration. "Joanie, give me your shield!"

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to use it to block the bullets!"

"Oh, um," Joanie looked down at her feet. "I, um, sold the shield in the town back there."

"You did what? What did you buy?"

Joanie looked up, and her eyes brightened. She held a cup in her hand. "Jamba Juice!"

Tiffany slapped her forehead.

Cecil was having trouble with the gun. "Oh, come on! You can't jam on me now! You stupid thing!" He kicked it, and stubbed his toe horribly.

Selma turned to Ben. "I have a plan," she said.

"What?"

"Run away!"

The Card Club began their cowardly retreat down the hill, all except Joanie, who stayed there calmly sipping her Jamba Juice.

After a few seconds, Cecil cried triumphantly, "Yes! It works! Now you're all going to die!" He looked up, and saw that they had retreated. "Aw, man. I can't chase them with this gun." He looked back, and saw Joanie sitting there. "Oh well, at least I can kill one of them. Don't move!"

Joanie looked up, suddenly noticing that she was alone. "Oh, I'll just be going now." She stood up, and started to turn away.

"Oh no you don't!" cried Cecil, and he fired one shot wildly at Joanie. It hit her cup, causing it to explode and drenching her in juice. "Now, put your hands in the air!"

Joanie didn't move. She started to tremble with rage. She spoke, and her voice wasn't darker than usual, or lower than usual, or louder than usual. It was exactly the same as it always was, which, as it turned out, was a hell of a lot scarier.

"You're going to regret having done that."

She turned to face Cecil. Her eyes were blood red.

When Card Club reached the bottom of the hill, Ben paused. "Oh no," he said. "We left Joanie behind!"

"We have to go help her!" said Tiffany. "She can't defend herself. I should know. I've tried to teach her. It's hopeless."

As they ran back up the hill, they heard noises. First came Cecil's voice: "Oh, no, it's you! Not you! Noooooooo!" Then there was a lot of screaming and metallic grinding noises. It was quiet for a second, and then they heard Joanie say, "Whoops."

They reached the top of the hill. They were stunned. Ben was the first that was able to speak. "Joanie . . . what happened here?"

"Oh, um, his gun broke."

"I don't think guns break like that . . .," said Ashley.

Cecil's death was a gruesome testament to, well, gruesomeness. The barrels of the Gatling gun had been torn off by some incredible force. Two of them had been rammed through Cecil's gut. Two more were used to strangle him so forcefully that his head came completely off. The last ones appeared to have been used to beat every inch of the remaining body into a bloody pulp.

The hill was silent. No one said a word. They all kept looking back and forth between Joanie and Cecil's horrifying corpse. Some of them had their mouths open. Their eyes kept telling them something their brains refused to accept.

"Well," said Joanie, "Let's keep going, okay?"

A couple of miles past the hill, the Card Club came across a large building. It was designed like an ancient temple, made of white marble with grand columns at the entrance. There was a sign out front, that had once said, "TEMPLE OF CHRISTIAN SCIENTISTS," but some of the letters had faded away, so that the sign now read, "TEMPLE OF _______AN _CIEN___TS."

"This must be the place," said Ben, and they went inside.

Joe was standing at the end of a grand, candle-lit hall, holding a book. As the Card Club approached, he said, "Oh good. I see you have defeated Cecil."

"What?" asked Tiffany, seriously not understanding what he was talking about.

"It's over, Joe," said Ben, ignoring his confusion. "Your PM's are defeated. The madness ends here."

"I don't think so," said Joe. "Having my henchmen defeated was part of my plan all along. It's all written here in this book." He held up the book to show them.

"That doesn't look like a book," said Patsy, "It looks like a strategy guide for a video game."

Ben looked closer. "It is! It's the strategy guide for Final Fantasy VII!" Ben paused. "Your 'grand strategy' is all from that strategy guide? You're insane!"

Joe became angry. "It's not a game, it's real. See? The villain has a sword called the Masamune. My sword is called the Masamune." Joe held up the book, pointing at a picture. "See? He even looks like me."

The picture in the book showed a man with waist-length silver hair, a sharp contrast to Joe's short, brown hair. No one said anything.

"And, just like in the book, my plan has brought me here, to the Temple of the Ancients. Here I can find the ultimate destructive magic, Meteor. Then I will summon Meteor, and scar the world, causing it to gather vast quantities of spiritual energy to heal itself. I will merge with this energy and become a God."

"What if the spiritual energy doesn't come?" asked Ashley

"Then I guess I'll just destroy the world. Oh well. Close second."

"Is this really the best strategy you could find?" asked Tiffany

"Well, there was this other one that was like, 'Find girl, Save girl from being raped, Get girl to hate girl's best friend, Gather team of seven warriors of the heavens, blah, blah, blah, Get girl to wish me into being a God,' but that sounded really time-consuming. This way is much faster."

"Joe," said Ben, "I cannot allow you to risk the destruction of the world like this. Prepare yourself!" Ben drew his sword.

"Good. My victory would not be complete without the death of my rival. Even if you are just a failed experiment, Cloud."

Ben and Patsy groaned.

"I'll start the battle this time. Capitalism Style, Double King!"

"What's that?" asked Joanie

"Well, the standard King technique involves throwing the sword like a boomerang, with a chance of hitting the enemy both on the way out and the way back. Masters of the technique can add spins and curves to make it harder to predict the path of the sword. It is a risky move, though, because the user in vulnerable while his sword is out of his hand. I imagine the Double King works about the same."

The phantom sword appeared in Joe's left hand. He brought both swords behind his back, then hurled them at Ben. They shot through the air in wide arcs.

Ben watched the paths of the swords. "He threw them short," he thought to himself. "They'll collide in front of me. Then, when they bounce off each other, I can run through the middle and attack him."

The two swords collided about a yard in front of Ben. "I've got you now, Joe!" he yelled

He tried to run forward, but an incredible force coming from the collision of the two swords pushed him back and made him stumble. The two swords arced around again and slashed both of Ben's arms. He cried out in pain and slumped down.

"Too easy," said Joe, and he slid his sword back in its sheath.

"You . . . shouldn't have let you guard . . . down," said Ben. He stood up and charged at Joe with lightning speed, sword held in front of him.

"You're weakened, Cloud. It won't work."

"Stop calling me Cloud! My name is Ben! Cloud is the name of the character in the polting game!"

Ben managed to nick Joe's side, but Joe slashed across his back as he passed. Ben stumbled and fell flat on the ground.

"Are you going to get up any more?"

"I . . . have to. I . . . must stop . . . you," said Ben. He stood up again, using his sword for balance. He put his sword up in front of him and ran at Joe, much slower this time.

"Every time you stand, you just get weaker. You can't win."

Joe calmly blocked the attack and stabbed Ben in the gut. Ben coughed up blood and fell on his back.

Joe put his sword back in its sheath. "Now, maybe I can get back to finding this ultimate destructive magic." He picked up his book, but put it back down when he heard Ben standing up again. "You really don't get it, do you? You can't beat me if you can barely hold your sword! The mere act of continually standing up is not enough to defeat me!"

Joe didn't bother to draw his sword. He just punched Ben in the face when he charged. Ben fell again.

"Ben, maybe you should give it a rest," suggested Selma.

"I . . . can't. The will . . . to live . . . is . . . essential."

Ben stood up again, wobbling like Patsy when he was drunk. And not just regular drunk. Irish drunk. He stepped uncertainly toward Joe, but Joe sneezed and knocked him down.

"Please stop doing that. It's getting really annoying."

Selma and Tiffany grabbed Ben and dragged him back before he could try anything stupid. That is, anything stupid that he hadn't already tried.

"But . . . I . . . have to . . . my . . . swordsman's spirit . . . will . . ."

"No it won't!" said Selma. "Cut it out before you get yourself bloody killed!"

They looked back at Joe, who was reading his book again. "Hmm," he said. "It says here that the temple itself is the ultimate destructive magic." He scratched his head. "What? That doesn't make any sense." He turned to look at the wall behind him. "Hey, there's a sword shaped hole here." He drew his sword and it was glowing with the power of french toast sticks. "The Masamune is reacting to the hole." He flipped through a few pages of the book while he thrust the sword into the hole. "Maybe if I . . ."

TO BE CONCLUDED