The Hench Woman's Handbook

for a nightcap, okay?"

  The girl in black nodded and tried to put a serious look on her face. Her mentor just sighed. "That's not much better, but we've got more important ground to cover here. I know you think you know how to dress and make yourself up, which a lot of gals in this line of work try to pass off as the whole kit and caboodle but like they say, beauty fades but dumb is forever.

  To really get anywhere in the bad girl leagues, you have to do more than just sit back and watch reality TV while getting your mani-pedi. Maintenance is necessary, that's why I have a standing hair appointment every two weeks at the Shellac Shack but to be a true asset to your crime boss or super villain, someone who gets included in his getaway plans on a regular basis there, you have to bring more to the table than a sweet set of legs or whatever the guy's into.

  First off, play secretary outside of the bedroom. Start setting up his daily schedule and keep track of what needs to stay and go paper wise. Destroying evidence is a key factor in not being charged with a felony. As my grandmother used to tell me every time she cooked, clean up as you go along. After a few whacks from a rolling pin upside my head, that helpful hint tends to stick with me to this day.

  Next, see what resources are available to you for further improvement. Your boss man needs a bodyguard with ninja skills? See who's on staff to give you a few lessons and willing to exchange favors that don't involve sex-you don't want to be known as the village bike ride-and also find out who else can teach you other handy things like computer hacking, lock picking or international extradition laws.

  Social networking is not just for the internet, either. Hang out at the right watering holes and make friends with some of your fellow hired hands there. Build up a nice account in the favor bank and it'll be easy to cash them in when your boss needs an army of killer robots fast."

  Mike popped his head in. "I'm back."

  "I'll alert the media." His boss lady handed him the now empty bottle. "Get me a better brand than this, will you?" He simply took it without a reply but shot the girl in black an eye roll as he left.

  "I also can't stress enough about doing your homework. Knowledge is power, right? Learn all you can about the people on his enemies list, especially the super powered ones. Sometimes the difference in being caught and a smooth escape is pulling the right space rock out of your purse that some goody two shoes alien avenger is allergic to or having the goods on which member of the press has naughty home videos of herself and a certain self righteous caped crusader." She nodded in glee, as the girl in black stared at her in shock. "It takes all kinds, girlie and the bigger they are, oh how hard they fall."

  As Mike set down a fresh bottle of gin, his boss lady leaned in towards her companion. "Let me tell you a little story that illustrates a real major point here. Your best bet in being irreplaceable is to know what your true strengths are and turning them on at the drop of a dime. Take me, for instance; I've got a big mouth and I'm not afraid to use it. Plus, I have no problem with getting into someone's face if the situation calls for it in my opinion. All of that is perfect for making distraction be the top tool in your hench woman's arsenal.

  This one time, Master Class and I were cooling off poolside at one of his tropical hideouts-he may not have looked like the type but Dexter loved to swim. He was pretty good at it, too, as long as there was a big enough body of water there, if you know what I mean. Anyway, while I was touching up my sunscreen, we had an unexpected visitor zoom on in and nearly knock me off of my lounge chair.

  The guy called himself The Marvelous Marathon, which is probably why he wore that stupid little toga number over those flaming red tights of his. What gets me about guys like that who have a one trick talent like that is how they think you're going to be so impressed by them. You want to impress me, be able to rip a man's heart out as he's walking out his front door from a yard away without touching him."

  The girl in black was glad yet again for choosing not to eat before she arrived at the bar. Her companion tapped Mike on the back and requested a plate of hot wings from the bar's grill, offering the girl a chance to order something for herself. One polite refusal was enough to satisfy her hostess, who went back to her story as soon as her food hit the table. "Dexter had just finished a lap and was getting out, anyway but I almost fell on him, thanks to that stupid speedster. He didn't even have the courtesy to help a lady off the ground there. He just stood in front of us, pretending that he wasn't out of breath like we couldn't hear him wheezing away.

  "Ah ha, Master Class!" He says. Yeah, he was that special brand of idiot who thought saying "ah ha!" was cool superhero speak. "It appears that you can not out run justice, no matter how far you go!" That line would've worked better if he hadn't slipped on one of my towels by the edge of the pool just then. Pretty klutzy for a super fast guy, if you ask me.

  I caught him leering at me while telling Dexter that he was taking him back to the mainland to face the music for what ever crimes he was being charged with in Marathon's home town. That smug jerk eyeballing my bikini top during his big citizen's arrest was really ticking me off. You're going to act like Mr. Do Gooder Guy while drooling over me like any other sleazy jerk in the street? I don't think so, buddy boy.

  I didn't need to look over at Dexter to know he needed some stalling time and thanks to the Marvelous Lech, I had plenty of fuel to set my fireworks off. I got right up in Marathon's eye line there, practically pushing my chest in his face. "You like something that you see here, huh, Speedy?"

  "My name is the Marvelous Marathon, uh, miss and if you'll just stand aside..." he tried to look around me but I wasn't leaving him any room to check on Dexter."You like looking, don't you? Too bad you're not man or even boy enough to do something about it. I bet your mommy still tucks you in at night and leaves the light on in the hallway for you."

  "Hey, there's no need to bring my mother into this! She's a dear sweet woman who taught me how to be the solid citizen that I am today and since when is there an age limit on night lights, huh?!" He had his hands on his hips, I kid you not, and while that night light crack was just a shot in the dark, it really hit home there. He had a cranky look on his face that made me want to burp him, I swear.

  "Well, didn't your sweet old mom teach you to help a lady get up when you knock her down?" He started blushing and keeping his eyes on the ground instead of my cleavage. "I'm sorry about that but the pursuit of evil can make a man forget his manners, even if there was a lady present."

  "WHAT did you say to me?" That's when I really started getting loud with him.

  He was backing away, totally surrounding his authority to me for a minute there. "Uh, what I meant was...'" then he got all smart mouth with me again."I don't have to justify myself to someone like you! Now you listen to me, Miss-you and your man friend are in plenty of trouble as it is, so cooperating with the swift arm of justice is in your best interest!"

  "How are you a swift arm if your power is running real fast, there, huh?" That bit of logic threw him off, giving Dexter more time to reach his dry clothes and find the little techno gizmo he had sewn into one of the pockets. Marathon was still sputtering for an answer as I marched up on him, getting close enough to spot the loose seam in his toga suit.

  With one hand I reached for that dangling hem while snapping one of the strings on my bikini bottom with the other. "All I'm saying is that if you want to check out the merchandise, at least slip a dollar into the tip jar, jerk wad. This show's not for free, Sweetie G!" That made his eyes bug out but not for long. Sure enough, he was whizzing past me and heading straight for Dexter who was on the phone with one of his regular flunkies, trying to find out when our escape copter would be ready (those guys were such flakes).

  My hand had a good grip on Marathon's crappy costume as he took off there, tearing that thing right off him during his big run. He was half naked by the time he reached Dexter and too busy trying to cover his bony little self up to stop him. "Hey, man, not cool!" he was yelling at me. Dext
er finished his phone call and was powering up his pocket gizmo, which usually took a few minutes so I yelled right back at the Marvelous Wuss Boy, "What's the matter, doesn't your mommy know how to make a good blankie for her baby to cry on?"

  "I'll have you know that my mother spent days re-stitching this for me after I singly handedly apprehended one of the worst fiends of our time..." By then, Dexter had zapped him right in the back of his head so I never got to hear who tore up that cheap piece of goods in the first place. It didn't kill the Marvelous Moron; he passed out and fell into the pool which is where we left him as soon as the copter showed up. You get used to being on the run or you ought to pretty damn fast in this racket."

  She was wiping the grease from the hot wings off her hands while trying to catch a glimpse of the notes being taken by the girl in black. "You having any trouble keeping up there, honey? Need a break?"

  "Oh, no, I'm good!" She dared to smile back at her mentor, who was reaching for the last wing on the plate. "If you need one, that's no problem."