Blue Undercover
Police Blue Episode 6-1: Founders Daze
by Plato Voltaire
Copyright 1998

[Prologue]

Quinn and Rose had a brainstorming session for new stories. The former police duo recalled the times when they had to arrest drunks during Founders Days, Outback's planetary holiday. The duo decided to incorporate some of their recollections into the first episode of the sixth season of Police Blue. The animated and ample Lynnae and June will again encounter another of Mr Big's nefarious schemes to inflate the bustlines of Outback's sheilas.

[Show introduction: Theme music plays. A fast-paced action sequence of the two main characters, Lynnae and June. Running, jumping, dodging, shooting, and rolling, showing off their physical prowess while their breasts bounce underneath their police shirts. Gawking criminals, mesmerized by these antics, are easily subdued and handcuffed. The duo then stood back-to-back and went into silhouette, showing their ample shapes. Cue in show and episode title.]

1

Hyatt Manor is located in the northeast corner of New Darwin. Nestled in-between slight hills and patches of trees, the three-story house wore a rustic look, complete with native Outback vines running along the window sills. For the final touch, a genuine wood-burning fireplace with brick chimney gave the manor a sense of warmth and security - something that Mr Big, supercriminal, wanted for his meeting.
    In the dining room, members of Big Crime Cabal Incorporated (BCCI) took their seats and waited for Mr Big. The little man himself entered the room. In his arms he carried his pet miniature dachshund, the 'cutie-little-precious' Pumpkin. Albert brought up the rear, closing the doors.
    "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," intoned Big as he sat at the head of the table, "for attending this monthly financial reports meeting. Before we begin with the reports, I have a special announcement to make. Last week I secured the services of the Pearson and Whyatt Beerworks. My new caper will involve the sale of two new products. Products that will have desirable effects on the bustlines of all the women in this city."
    Casper Lytes, an auto parts supplier turned bad, snorted in disbelief. "What, just like you did to those female sailors and marines? You said yourself that you used the last of the Nepalese breast-enlarging potion on those women."
    "I still have some of the original potion, but I'm saving it," replied Big, eyes gleaming. "But I've concocted a substitute. True, it is weaker and not as potent as the original, but," Big grinned, "with some added properties, my two new drinks - Bubbles and Big Brew - will gain untold numbers of customers. Thirsty female customers who can never get enough of what my drinks can give them - desire and big breasts!"
    Casper snapped his fingers. "That's right up your alley, Mr Big! When will you release those two drinks to the public, and how?"
    Big  had a brief bout of laughing, coughing, and hacking. "In two weeks! Founders Days is around the corner, and I want to make the biggest impact to celebrate Outback's 300th birthday!"


New Darwin Police, Central Station. Captain Laramie briefed the first shift. It promised to be a rather hot June day, and the gathered officers were glad they're wearing short-sleeve shirts. The female officers also wore the standard-issue microskirt. Lynnae Wilcox and June Parlor are among the most endowed and shapely female officers in the department. The buxom duo knew their abbreviated clothing often resulted in more arrests - male criminals are easily distracted by tight shirts and naked legs.
    "Okay people," Laramie announced, "in two weeks Founders Days will start. Thanks to our calendar, Founders Days, all eleven of them, are between June 30 and July 1. The number of tourists will skyrocket, especially those from Earth." Some of Laramie's officers moaned. The social climate of Earth was repressive and dull. Large breasts are considered an aberration and nanite injections a sign of waste. Deprived Earthmen had to go off-planet to see ample chests. Outback, with its much more relaxed and 'natural' atmosphere, provided drooling breast-freaks all the mammaries they wanted to stare at.
    "But wait," said Laramie wickedly, "we mustn't forget Civil Disturbance 101. The CD'ers will be out in force, dispensing their 'wisdom' to the slack-jawed gawkers from Earth. Break up any How to Glom clinics you run into. Lyn and June, please try not to provoke those poor souls from glomming you. Allow the other patrols the chance to perform an arrest."
    The squad room filled with light laughter. "Easy for you to say, Captain," said Lyn. "These summer uniforms are expressly designed to make man falter and women burn up with envy. I'm willing pay a week's salary to see you wear this get-up."
    Laramie grinned. "You should've been here 75 years ago. Now, get out there, but be careful."
    "We will, Captain," the first shift said as they rose from their chairs.
    The buxom duo didn't have a cruiser for today's patrol. Their duty area is Monument Park, located in the heart of the city. The park has a statue of the first colonists that landed on Outback in 2114. In addition to its size, the statue also served as a landmark and gathering place for all kinds of people. At this time of year hordes of young off-planet men gathered at the statue. Armed with binoculars and other vision devices, these men take it upon themselves to view and gawk at the lovely sheilas that are Outback women. It's Lyn and June's job to make sure that looking and gawking are the only things that those men do.


Years ago, the Pearson and Whyatt Beerworks was the top seller of beer in New Darwin. That changed when the company marketed a new drink at the expense of its proven seller. P&W's claim to the market shrank to 10%. Competitors, and former customers, derisively called P&W the Piss'n'Water Beerworks. The P&W board of directors started a new campaign to rebuild the company's image. Little did they know that their new cash came from Mr Big. The company's president and CEO, both women, were firmly under Big's hypnotic control, doing his bidding. Anything they can do to make Big happy was worth the effort.
    On the Beerworks bottling floor Big conducted a tour for his BCCI buddies. "This is where the bottles receive a final inspection before being filled with product. This line is for Big Brew." Big lifted a passing bottle, admiring the glasswork. "As you know, the health inspectors check the product and bottles separately. But here's the kicker. My revised potion is applied to the inside of the bottle tops. Once the bottles are filled and sealed, the potion is picked up by the product."
    "How fast does it work?" inquired one of the men. "Can you give us a demonstration?"
    "Oh Yes!" said Big. "I've got a little surprize for you. Come, let me show you Employee Lounge #4." Like a schoolteacher, Big lead his eager followers to a small lounge on the bottling floor. Inside the room was a gathering of female workers, taking sips from 12 and 24-ounce bottles of Bubbles, Big's tainted lollywater beverage. To a woman, each had a magnificent bust. The smallest woman had perky volleyballs, while the largest girls could be mistaken for Angelicans. The P&W T-shirts the workers had on were sorely tested by breasts that wanted room to grow.
    Big cackled. "There's enough potion in each 12-ounce can to give a girl an additional cup size. Double that for the 24-ounce 'mortershells'. Now for that demonstration! Deirdre, come over here."
    A short, shapely woman with dark hair tied in a bun stepped over to Big. Her bust was the smallest in the group, but shortly the difference in sizes would change. "Yes, Mr Big?" Deirdre giggled.
    Big handed the joyful woman a 24oz bottle. "Deirdre, if you drink all of this without coming up for air I'll give you one hundred credits!"
    The little woman swiped the bottle from Big's hand, wrenched off the bottle top, and proceeded to chug. The men started to chant, encouraging Deirdre to suck down all the drink. "Chug it, chug it, chug it..."
    After what felt like an eternity Deirdre removed the now-empty bottle and wiped her mouth. Then a wondrous thing happened. Her perky volleyball-sized breasts expanded perceptively before everyone's eyes. The growth was enough to make the T-shirt even more stressed, trying it's best to squeeze the woman to death. If the tee had stitches they would've torn open.
    "Oh Boy!" Big beamed. "Deirdre, take off that T-shirt before you suffocate! I want to measure your happy chest." The little woman complied, though thanks to the camera angles the tri-dee audience only had a view of Deirdre's back. She raised her arms, allowing the audience to at least see the magnificent globes protruding past her ribcage. Big applied a measuring tape to Deirdre's bust, making her giggle for a moment. "It's still potent as ever! Last night, my fair lass, you were a 32I. Now, you're a bit over 32K. I think you now rate the next size in T-shirts!"
    "Oh, thank you Big!" Deirdre turned to embrace Big, covering him in kisses. The other women turned jealous. They wanted to kiss Big for giving them such a wonderful drink. For nearly 5 minutes Big did nothing but kiss and glom each woman that came within reach.
 

2

The historical center of New Darwin served as a gathering place for painters, pantomime performers, lovers... and perverts. The gang known as Civil Disturbance 101 (CD 101) held an impromptu clinic on 'how to glom'. It's a week before Founders Days, and an early contingent of breast-obsessed Earthmen had arrived. Thanks to their underground network, these men knew where to find the CD'ers. So did the cops.
    Lynnae and June were on foot patrol in Monument Park. There are quite a few secluded clearings in the park, tall streamer trees providing barriers to vision but not to sound. Like cats, the buxom duo sneaked up to one particular clearing. To their satisfaction they found a group of middle-aged men, each one wearing dorky-looking caps with attached beer carriers. Six men wore white T-shirts emblazoned with red lettering that spelled CD 101. The leader, who could easily be a bank manager, belched, drawing some laughter. He cleared his throat with some lager.
    "Afternoon, gents," the loud man said. "You have traveled 20 light-years to see - and experience - the ampleness that is Outback. On the beaches and parks of this world you will have the opportunity to glom to your heart's content. But don't blame us if your hands end up as claws! To prevent possible hand injury, me and my associates will demonstrate the proper procedure to glom a breast. Tiffany, Sue! Come on out and show these men your heavenly bodies."
    Two women stepped forward, dropping towels to reveal their bikini-clad forms. The visiting Earthmen hooted in approval. The CD Leader smiled. "The short one is Sue. At 163cm and 32D Sue is the typical Outback Sheila." Sue did a curtsy and jiggled, making her lovely chest shimmy with delight. The men did some more hooting. "Tiffany, on the other hand, is the typical girl who gets nanite augmentation. At 178cm and 36R Tiffany is a mighty challenge to glom. We'll show you how to effectively glom these two typical breast sizes."
    "Not so fast, Simon Bar Sinister!" Lyn and June stepped out of the foliage. June held her police whistle at the ready. "You CD'ers are all under arrest."
    "What for, officer?" The Leader said, looking nervous. He tried to hide the bikini women behind him, but Tiffany's breasts mashed up against his back, making the Leader blush beet-red.
    June critically looked at the man. "You and your friends are in violation of the Criminal Code, Section 2, Paragraph B. You're inciting people to commit a misdemeanor." She turned her basilisk gaze at the Earthers. "If you must know, the penalty for glomming is 100 credits and one day in jail. Unless you want to spend your whole vacation in a jail cell, I suggest that all of you swear that you won't glom. Understand?"
    "Wait a minute," said an Earthman, "aren't you June Parlor? And isn't that your partner, Lynnae Wilcox?"
    "What's it to you, buddy? You better not hope to glom me. If you are, then it will be your last conscious act ever."
    All the Earthmen got on their knees, bowing towards the officers. "We've been bad boys, officers," the Earthman said. "Arrest us, because we're not worthy!"
    "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy," the other men chanted. "We're scum, we're worms!"
    Lyn and June actually felt embarrassed. There are indeed some men in the city that committed crimes, all in the hope of being arrest by the buxom duo. Those men yearned to feel the duo's breasts press into their backs while being man-handled into awaiting police cruisers. It's rather irksome at times. Lyn looked away, finding the CD'ers sneaking off. "Not so fast! Halt in the name of the Law!"
    The pursuit was short and to the point. Other patrols had converged on the clearing, intercepting five of the CD'ers and the bikini women. June chased the leader and had to tackle him in a flying leap. She slapped the cuffs on him, reading his rights. She stood up, wiping sweat from her brow.
    GLOM! A mime had witnessed the arrest. He, too, had the desire to glom ample breasts. He figured that he would never have a better opportunity to do it. June turned on the man with the painted face. The mine tried to indicate that it was all in good fun, pretending he was feeling up a pair of melons. June reached for her nightstick. The memory plastic transformed at her touch, turning into the reliable, centuries-old design that served police officers so well. With less force than it actually appeared, June bonked the mime in the head, rendering him unconscious.
    "I HATE MIMES!" June proclaimed.


Captain Laramie looked across her desk at June. The little incident with the mime reached the news nets. Cries of 'overreaction' and 'police brutality' were bleated by bleeding-heart newsies. With Founders Days just around the corner the last thing the Police needed was a bad rap in the press. It's Laramie's job to decide an appropriate punishment for June.
    "June," said the Captain, looking every bit the authoritarian matriarch, "you had to bonk that mime on the head. Don't you realize that some of the higher-ups are waiting for any excuse to kick you and Lyn off the force? The Pernlow Case created many enemies for you two. I hope you're thankful that you have me and Chief Talbert looking out after you."
    "I am, ma'am," June said professionally.
    "You still have to be reprimanded, but this can be reflected by special service instead of a write-up in your permanent record. Interested?"
    "Yes, ma'am," said the stoic officer.
    "Cut the cadet crap, Parlor. If I wanted to rip you a new one, then I would've done it the instant you entered the office. Comprende?"
    June smiled. "Sure, Cap'n."
    "Better. Now, what do I have on the assignment roster?" Laramie thumbed through several entries. "Ah. How about for the next three weeks you work third shift?"
    "Third shift, in that time frame?" June looked despondent. "I'm guaranteed to pick up at least five drunks a night. The cruiser is going to smell like puke and bile."
    "Would you rather work with Lt Harkin in the Archives?"
    "Heck no, Cap'n."
    "There," Laramie grinned, "that wasn't so hard to decide. I hope Lyn is as understanding as I am when you tell her about third shift."


"I hope it was worth it," Lyn snorted, looking out the cruiser's windshield at the New Darwin night scene. "Beating up mimes must be a favorite pastime of yours."
    "I just don't like them," said an exasperated June. "There's something about them that causes a violent reaction in me."
    "Then pray that we don't get dispatched to break-up a pantomime brawl." Lyn gladly took June's rueful glare. "Hey, you can at least admit that was funny."
    "Funny-funny har-har. Let's have some real fun, making drunks vomit their haggis." June vented steam. For the last two days the duo picked up six drunks - all them tourists from Earth. Outback beer proved too much for their constitutions. During the arrest procedure the drunks emptied the contents of their tummies, often on Lyn and June's patrol shoes.
    The radio crackled to life. The dispatcher was none other than Amber MacRoy, the duo's friend. Nicknamed Mother, Amber's clear and commanding voice got the duo's attention. "Charlie 9, we have a 10-53 (disorderly conduct) at 170th Avenue and Bristol. Jackspurt Bar and Grill. Restore order and apprehend troublemakers. Over."
    "Charlie 9 to Dispatch. We're 10-17 (proceeding) to the 53. 10-4." Lyn secured the mic and checked her gloves... and her spare gloves. Drunks also have the disgusting habit of vomiting on police officers' hands.
    Three minutes later the police cruiser pulled into the parking lot of the Jackspurt Bar and Grill. Set to a western theme, the Grill offers finely cooked steak and jackalope ribs. Only strong beer, that is to say Outback beer, was served there. That explained the high number of drunk tourists that originated from the establishment.
    The owner, Duke Cerone, greeted the two officers. "I'm glad you're here. Four women arrived earlier this evening. They had too much to drink and started to act crazy. Come see for yourselves."
    Lyn looked mystified. "Duke, what about your bouncers?"
    "That's the thing, Officer Wilcox. The women somehow got my bouncers drunk and seduced them!" Duke ushered in the cops. The center of the establishment held an elevated stage. The four drunk women were on the stage instead of the regular western band. Wearing abbreviated shorts and tight tees, the women danced a can-can. Legs were kicked high and chests shimmied, drawing hoots and hollers from the audience.
    Arms akimbo, Lyn stepped forward into the lights. "What's all this then? Explain yourselves."
    A short dark-haired woman, legs woozy from drink, leered at the officer. "Hi, Ossifer. Me and my friends (burp) are performing a magic show!"
    Lyn decided to humor the drunk. "What kind of magic? I don't see any cards or wands."
    "Liquid magic (belch)!" The crowd laughed. In front of the women were the two suborned bouncers. They handed the impromptu magicians 24oz bottles of beer commonly referred to as mortershells. "Watch, Ossifer, as we turn these full bottles into empty ones (hick)!" In unlikely synchronization, the women opened the bottles and proceeded to chug. The audience chanted encouragement; some people actually threw money at the stage.
    Lyn and June prepped their stunners, setting them to minimal discharge. Any higher setting can make drunk people lose all bowel control. The women finished their chug-a-lug, gasping for air and belching more-or-less at the same time. Lyn and June were just about to announce the arrest procedure when they witnessed an extraordinary event. Thanks to the women's tight T-shirts, the officers saw four pairs of breasts grow perceptively larger. Shirt material was pulled apart and made taunt. Two overstressed T-shirts lost their fight. Lyn gasped when the tees ripped open quite audibly, exposing succulent cleavage. Men in the audience yelled out appreciative metaphors such as 'I like to tend that melon patch' and 'what fine slopes for skiing'.
    "That's enough of that," June barked at the audience. She then turned on the bouncers. "Okay, boys, you can make this easy or hard. Back off."
    "I don't take orders from piggies (hick)," said one bouncer, lecherously eyeing June's shirt. "You must be'a sweatin' lika a pig wearing a tight shirt like that (burp). Here, lemme help ya outta it." In a moment the bouncer's universe was reduced to a handful of falling stars.
 

3

Laramie turned off the file pad, her gaze fixed upon the two officers mentioned in the morning edition of the New Darwin Tribune. "I suppose I should be thankful that the story was buried way back on page 56. June, if you should break another man's nose during the next two weeks then you will work in the Archives with Larry Lecher."
    "Don't you mean Lt Harkin?"
    "Rather early in the morning to act smart. Isn't it, June?" Laramie snapped. Officer Parlor looked a bit brow-beaten. "I'm sorry I said that, June. God knows, that bouncer had it coming, but you had to use your nightstick instead of the stunner. This isn't 21st-Century London. Comprende?"
    "I hear you, Captain."
    Laramie allowed herself a grin. "Better. Now, lets look at what we gathered from the women you arrested." The Captain activated a wall panel. She stood up, light-pointer in hand, highlighting sections of the projected police report. "All four women are college students, working summer jobs at the P&W Beerworks. This is their first entry on their police records. All of them have above-average grades and, as far as we know, this was the first time they had beer. Plus, there are those other interesting facts about them."
    Lynnae nodded. "Yes, Captain. According to their own employment records, the women were of average bust-size only two weeks ago. P&W's medical coverage doesn't include nanite expansion since it's considered 'cosmetic' surgery. The women's finances are those of typical college students, and they just started working at the Beerworks only last month. That can only mean one thing."
    "I agree, though Dr Sung will give us a definite answer later today." Laramie switched off her light pointer. "Mr Big has come through again on his never-ending quest for bigger breasts. If he has concocted a breast potion, we need to stop him before he distributes it to the population."
    June had in her lap one of the now-empty beer bottles that the women drank from last night. She read the labeling critically. "This is definitely Mr Big's work. Who else would come up with a phrase like 'only a bottle this big can contain a taste so expansive'." She snorted. "Even a three-year-old can come up with a better name. Big Brew? Give me a break!"
    "He's stuck in his ways, June." Laramie sat back down at her desk. "I've sent two detectives to the Beerworks. In the past the Beerworks had some trouble with student employees. My detectives will review the company's policy on hiring college students, but they'll also keep a look-out for anything suspicious. Knowing Big, I think we'll find something."


Mid-afternoon the same day. On the roof of the Beerworks' bottle-making building there's a pool. It's a typical 12-by-8 meter pool, but the four bikini-clad women around it were not typical. The women are the same ones that were arrested last night at Jackspurt. On the orders of Laramie, the group was released. Since it was the women's first offense, the Captain figured that a single night in the drunk tank would make the women think twice before getting drunk again.
    Another person was determined not to see his lovelies get thrown into a drunk tank a second time. Mr Big, wearing Bermuda shorts and a yellow T-shirt, stepped out onto the roof, walking towards the pool. "Alright, you fillies, line up! I want to talk to you."
    The girls jiggled together, their bikini-tops maintaining their perilous perch on the breasts. Big looked at the girls critically. "Not only did you girls get drunk and arrested, you made the Police send a pair of detectives to sniff around the Beerworks, asking questions. And I don't like cops."
    "We're sorry, Mr Big," said Deirdre. The little woman's bust was now a very capable 32Q. Only the front for her wonderful lungs, the size of overinflated basketballs, were covered by the bikini material. "Me and the girls just wanted to have fun. Besides, you didn't give us any of that Big Brew to drink."
    "And for good reason. It's potent stuff. Your livers aren't up to task of processing such a fine brew." Big tapped his left foot. "Worse yet, you took those bottles without asking. Employee pilferage is not allowed. That's sufficient grounds to fire you."
    "Please, don't do that, Mr Big," said Laura, one of the other girls. "We'll behave. We need these jobs to help pay for our college tuition. Please don't fire us. Pretty please?" All four women used pleading, puppy-dog eyes, resting their laced hands on top of their overample chests.
    Big didn't had the heart to fire such bountiful babes. He just wanted to put the scare into them. Smiling, he raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, I won't fire you girls. But no-more pilferage, and you can't have anymore Bubbles and Big Brew. You're big enough already."
    "Can't we have just one more can? Please?" said Deirdre, her eyes large and dewy.
    Sighing, Big opened the small cooler he had with him, giving a 12oz can of Bubbles to each of the girls. In a minute they downed every last drop of the wondrous beverage. Big swore he heard the bikini fabric being stretched. Since they drank from 12oz cans, the girls only gained a single cup size each. Deirdre now sported a 127cm (32R) front on a 158cm tall body, while Laura's bikini strings dug into her 140cm (34U) breasts. The girls caressed the naked sides of their breasts, making Big a bit anxious. "Very pretty I must say," said Big joyfully. "How about removing those obviously too-small bikini tops? You need to tan those pale boobies."
    The scene ended with a shot set against the sky. Four string bikini tops flew into the air, accompanied by the sound of girlish laughter and giggles.
 

4

Dr Sung's Lab. The wise but wily doctor completed his study on the beer residue. Chief Talbert, Laramie, Lyn and June had gathered in the lab, only waiting for the doctor to finish his daily fruit drink.
    "That hits the spot," said Sung, placing the now empty glass on his desk. "What I found in the beer certainly hits another spot. I found traces of a substance similar to the Nepalese breast-enlarging potion. Obviously not as potent as the original, but just as insidious."
    Talbert grunted. "How so, Doc?"
    "Big included some addictive qualities to his 'brew'. The taste of this drink is such that a person is compelled to finish it all in one draw. Big did this to insure that the potion is ingested 100% of the time."
    "That's him all right," Lyn said firmly. "Can the effects of this potion be reversed?"
    "I believe so. Since this is a weaker version of the potion that affected those poor sailors and marines, nanites should be able to reduce the breasts. Regardless, we need to prevent Big from carrying out further applications of his new potion."
    June looked worried. "You mean that this potion, though weaker, is more resilient than the original? Can it be used in other products?"
    Sung nodded knowingly. "Yes. He probably choose beer because of the upcoming Founders Days holiday. There'll be hundreds of thousands of women that'll be victims to his perversion. Why stop with beer? Roll-on deodorant, nail polish, lip stick, toothpaste - the list is endless."
    "At least we know where he's been," Laramie chimed in. "My detectives found nothing irregular regarding the Beerwork's records, but all the female workers between the ages of 18 and 30 have considerable breasts where they had none before just two weeks ago. Those women are not in a position to buy a 2,000 credit nanite injection."
    Talbert snapped his fingers. "Then it's decided. Laramie, have your detectives find out when and where P&W will distribute this Big Beer product. It's likely they'll market a lollywater drink that's similarly tainted, so watch out for that too. The Founders Days Celebration at the Fairgrounds will be Big's obvious target. We'll shut him down before he can deliver the goods."
    "We have to get him without making him suspicious, Chief," Lyn cautioned. "Big can smell bacon a kilometer away."


"Hey, who took my bacon?" Big demanded. The BCCI people at the dinner table denied all knowledge on the theft of Big's extra-large bacon strips. The little man looked under the table, finding Pumpkin wolfing down his bacon strips. "You rat!" Big scowled, retrieving the naughty dog. "You're spoiling your appetite. I was going to feed you steak for dinner."
    Pumpkin didn't care, finishing off the last bacon strip it held in its paws. Big sighed, settling the thieving ratdog on his lap. "Gentlemen," he said formally, "In three days our two fabulous products will be on sale at the Fairgrounds. With eye-catching design schemes set for their target audience, my drinks will fill up the shirt fabric! With two vending machines at each major concession area, our coverage will be complete!"
    One BCCI member, Louis Lipsom, looked uneasy, teasing the collar of his jacket. "Ummmm... Big, about the concession areas. I was late in getting our bid in, and...."
    "And what, Louis?" Big asked menacingly.
    Louis gulped. "I was only able to land one spot per major concession area for our machines, but," he added hopefully, "those machines can be type 2's, the ones that hold the 24oz bottles."
    "You... You moron!" Big cursed. "What were you doing? Watching Parliament House re-runs on the tri-dee? I wanted two machines per concession area! Two! We could've covered both ends of the spectrum - one machine of 12oz, the other 24oz. Now we have to use other means to dispense my products. Casper, can we use your display as an additional concession area?"
    The auto-parts supplier smiled. "Absolutely! Large Marge will use only a fraction of the display area. Plus, there's a bonus. The western band I hired will play the first night. A big crowd is guaranteed. A big, thirsty, crowd."
    "Excellent, Casper! You'll get Louis' share for saving the day. As for you, Louis," said Big scornfully, "there's only one punishment for a failure like yours."
    "But, Mr Big," Louis pleaded, "I... Noooooo!" Louis' chair tipped over backwards, dumping him into a pit filled with concentrated Bubbles ingredients. The impromptu acid bath ate away flesh and bone, leaving no trace of the crooked encyclopedia salesman.
    Big pressed a switch, sealing up the acid pit. His eyes burned holes into the souls of the remaining BCCI people. "Let that be a reminder that I do not tolerate failure."


It's Lyn's turn to be depressed. The sky was at dusk, rapidly changing into night. Lyn gazed forlornly at the storefronts that past by the cruiser's window. She sighed. "Here we are, just three days away from the start of Founders Days, expressly forbidden to go near the Piss'n'Water Beerworks. Are the high muckity-mucks afraid that we can capture Big single-handedly?"
    "They're afraid the public will demand that we get promoted," said June in support. "Talbert and Laramie have used all their favors just to keep us in the force. It'll take someone with considerable political clout to override the promotions board."
    Lyn grinned. "Mr Big, perhaps?"
    "Good! You're still able to make bad jokes. You're not so depressed after all."
    "It's just as well." Lyn unconsciously touched her nightstick. "Look at that." She pointed to a section of sidewalk. An ample young woman, with breasts as big as oversized basketballs, was being harassed by a trio of men. Outback has its share of perverts too. These men looked as if they wanted to do more than just glom the woman's breasts.
    June activated the rollers (police lights), easing the cruiser up to the curb. The woman, apparently a college student, gratefully approached the police car. The buxom duo exited the cruiser with practiced grace, denying a gratuitous panty shot for the viewers at home. "What's all this then?" Lyn's flashlight played on the men's faces. June's light settled on the woman's anxious eyes.
    "I was just minding my business, walking home from work," said the woman, "and these creeps started following me."
    "Hey, officers," said one of the men, "have I seen your faces' before?"
    "Oh, God," June moaned, "not again."
    "Jeepers! They're those two Bronzes (police officers)!" The trio instantly knelt down, bowing in supplication. "Arrest us! Arrest us!"
    "Why?" Lyn asked critically. She turned to the woman. "Ma'am, were these men harassing you?"
    "Yes, yes we were!" One man quickly said. "We had the intent to glom that woman's norks (breasts). Arrest us, oh ample symbols of Law and Order!"
    June took her light off the kneeling men. "We will do no such thing. Public annoyance is not a crime. You didn't touch this woman, have you?"
    "No, officer. But we unworthy men must be arrested."
    "We're scum! We're worms!" said the other two perverts.
    "Get outta here before you annoy me," said Lyn in her command voice.
    The trio got up. "No-can do, officer. You've compelled us to do this," they said as one. With unnatural speed, the perverts proceeded to glom. Exaggerated sweatbeads adorned the foreheads of the women. Not wasting time, the buxom duo produced miniature cans of mace, spraying the men in the face mercilessly. The glommers fell to the ground and performed the dead bug drill, legs and arms flailing in the air. Undoubtedly, they were enjoying themselves, much to the consternation of Lynnae and June.
    The young woman sighed, relaxing her protective hold over her bust. She grimaced when two 24oz bottles fell from their secured hold in her cleavage. The bottles made quite audible clinks when they hit the ground. June picked up one of the bottles and shone a light on it. Her face showed her surprize when she saw the label. The light was then placed on the woman's face. "Hey, I know you. You're the girl we arrested at Jackspurt."
    "That I am, officer," said the apprehensive girl. "I'm Deirdre Kemp."
    June scowled, turning to Lyn. "Hey, once you secured those creeps, call for back-up to haul them away. We got Deirdre Kemp here, and she has more of those Big Brew bottles." With a predatory grin, June faced down Deirdre, making the short woman feel even shorter. "Deirdre, can you prove to me that you bought these beers?"
 

5

Thirty minutes later the buxom duo was inside Deirdre's apartment. They called in Captain Laramie as instructed, telling her about Deirdre and the beers. The short woman herself sat in her favorite easy chair, looking miserable.
    Laramie eyed the purloined beer bottles and Deirdre with the same level of attention. "Deirdre, how long has Mr Big been at the Beerworks? When did you first see him?"
    Deirdre acted like a scared child in a principles' office. "About four weeks. The CEO gave him a tour of the bottling floor. I must've caught his eye. He started to talk to me, and I felt..." she broke down in a fit of sobbing. "Oh God, and to think that pervert actually glommed me! What power does he have over women?"
    Lyn got by Deirdre's side and placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. "You couldn't have know, dear. Big has a devilish effect on most women. He made you feel happy and joyous whenever he's around, right?"
    Deirdre stifled her sobs, wiping away tears. "That bastard, giving me and my friends those drinks. I couldn't go on without having the taste of lollywater and beer in my mouth! On the bottling floor I swiped two Big Brews from the conveyor belt and hid them between my breasts! Oh God, my breasts!" Deirdre patted the sides of her T-shirt-draped breasts, thankful that she wore the largest size available. "How am I going to explain this? I'm a freak!"
    "You're not a freak, Miss Kemp." Laramie went to Deirdre, holding her hand in a sincere expression of solidarity. "Mr Big takes delight in making women nothing more that a walking jigglefest. It was your need for this beer that weakened Big's control over you. Some women are never freed from that little man's will. Fortunately for us, you're in a position to help not only the Police, but every woman in the city as well."
     Deirdre teased the collar of her T-shirt. "How can I? I'm just a silly girl with big lungs."
    Laramie shook her head. "Wrong. From what you told us, Big considers you one of his top girls at the Beerworks. He tends to let his guard down around his 'women'. Since we can't use listening bugs anywhere near him, can we rely on your memory?"
    "You want me to spy for you?" Deirdre asked incredulously. "What if he finds out?"
    "There's always the risk, dear," consoled the police captain. "He might make you drink so much Big Brew that you'll become a pillow woman. I can only offer my personal pledge that if he does such a thing to you, I'll make sure he's handcuffed by his johnson. However, if you help us prevent Big's nefarious scheme, I'll see to it that you and your friends are restored to the sizes you prefer."
    Standing up, Deirdre tugged down on her T-shirt, making her wonderfully firm 127cm bust stand out. "Your word, Captain?"
    "My word," said Laramie.
    "Okay, I'll try to remember what he talks about when he's around 'us girls'. I hope I can still act convincingly around him, since I now know what he is."
    Laramie gave the short woman a brief hug. "Don't you fret. The angels in blue will look after you."


Two days before Founders Days had Mr Big, Albert, and a quartet of Beerworks beauties lounging around Lytes' display area at the Fairgrounds. Depending on the person you ask, the Fairgrounds are either located southeast of New Darwin or on the northeast corner of the Bass Sea. It's just a matter of semantics.
    Big rested in a foldable lounge chair. Decked out in a Founders Days T-shirt, Bermuda shorts, and sunnies, Big looked like an overactive grandpa. "Albert! This is the life! Pass me another wine cooler!"
    "As you wish, Mr Big," Albert replied, handing the drink to his boss. "Everything is going just as you planned."
    Big wiped his mouth after taking a long swig. "Yes, about the plan. I need to read the itinerary. You have the file?"
    Ever efficient, Albert handed a file pad to Big. "The production of Bubbles and Big Brew is ahead of schedule. The delivery list has been updated to reflect this.
    Nearby, Deirdre heard what Albert said. Her innate nervousness was held in check by what she knew of Mr Big. Whatever she could do to frustrate the little pervert's plans was acceptable to her, especially what she's about to do. Slinking over, Deirdre stood over Big. "Biggy, you promised to referee a game of volleyball for us," she said anxiously. "Work can be done later."
    "Soon, you filly, soon." Big read the file pad intently.
    Pouting outside, Deirdre inside resigned herself to follow through on her plan. Lifting her immense T-shirt clad bust, Deirdre then planted her ample charms on top of Big's head (NB). The crime lord's head almost disappeared between the fabric-clad mammaries.
    "You better say yes!" Deirdre demanded, pushing in her breasts. The underside of her lovely breasts peeked from the bottom of the tee (NB).
    "I can't hear you," Big replied in a muffled voice. "It's kinda dark in here!"
    While Big enjoyed the inadvertent blackout, Deirdre peered over Big's shoulder to read the file pad. By luck, the current page had the delivery schedule. Deirdre committed the information to memory. She then released Big from the captivity of her impromptu prison.
    "I almost ran out of air!" Working the feeling back into his cheeks, Big got up and looked mischievously at Deirdre. "Okay, my honey-bunny, you win. You and the rest of the girls get changed into those front-piece swimsuits I brought. Such cute bottoms deserve to be seen as well as those norks!"
    The girls giggled, making for a nearby tent to change clothes. Deirdre had to wait until evening to pass the information on to Laramie. Big made the girls play four complete games followed by a mutual shower and a long soak in a hottub. Free from his control, Deirdre managed not to gag when she saw Big naked. She wondered how such a decrepit old man managed to live as long with a body like his.


Central Station. In Laramie's office a plan to stop the delivery of Bubbles and Big Brew was in the works. In conjunction with the SWAT commander, Laramie instructed her detectives and officers to be wary of any tricks that Mr Big might have in store. When it came to assign officers to specific duties the door to the office opened. In stepped Police Commissioner Kilroy Haite, tall and unemotive as ever. All eyes were planted on the man.
    "Please continue, Captain," said Haite, "I've business that can be handled after your briefing."
    What's he up to now? wondered Laramie. She found out three minutes later when the briefing was completed, the office empty of people except her and her unexpected guest. "So, Mr Haite, what business brings you here tonight?"
    Haite snorted, setting his bones on a well-worn chair. "You had to ask that? You know perfectly well what it is. I've read the copy of your plan you sent me. Imagine my surprize when I found that you've included Officers Wilcox and Parlor in the teams that will enter the Beerworks to find and apprehend Mr Big."
    "Yes. Those two officers have demonstrated time and again that Big is particularly vulnerable to their attacks."
    "And," Haite added, "it is while attacking Big that the Buxom Duo cause the most damage and injury. We can't afford that now, Captain Laramie."
    Laramie disagreed. "Commissioner, if Wilcox and Parlor hadn't been around when Big did his capers, then the mayhem caused by that midget pervert would've been worse. I need them for this case."
    "You'll have to do without them, Captain." Haite stood up. "As you know, some city council members are still eager to fire Wilcox and Parlor for their conduct during the Pernlow Case. If they screw up this time, there will be repercussions."
    Face set hard, Laramie looked at her superior. "Then me and Chief Talbert will just have to remind those council members of their agreement."
    Haite's thin smile barely turned up at the corners. "They thought of that, Captain. Remember, the final approval of all promotions above your rank and position is in my hands. Unless you want to stay a Captain forever, moving from department to department, I suggest you comply with my request."
    Bastard! Laramie thought venomously. He knows that I desire to become station chief someday, even commissioner. So it all comes down to this: I can follow through on my threat and bring down half of the city council, ruining my career and Wilcox and Parlor's as well. Or I can play it safe and follow orders. But at least those two officers will remain on the force.
    Still maintaining her look, Laramie held Haite's attention. "You have my word that Wilcox and Parlor won't be anywhere near the Beerworks tomorrow morning, Hate," she said, deliberately mangling the Commissioner's last name. "I'm only doing this because I believe in Wilcox and Parlor. They will endure and prevail over the people that seek to remove them."
    With a smile fit for a gargoyle, Haite stood up. "You're still a naive woman, Laramie. You can't advance further in this job unless you play by the little black book."
    "Perhaps it isn't worth becoming a commissioner if it means sacrificing honor and integrity. Now, get out of my office before you say something you'll regret, Hate."
    Though his task was complete, Haite nevertheless was stung by Laramie's barb. It's a dangerous game of brinkmanship that he's engaged in with Laramie and the vengeful council members. Haite wanted nothing more than to be present when his collective enemies are destroyed, leaving him in a position to run for the office of Mayor unhindered. With help from his secret supporter, Haite had only to count the days before he can sit behind the big desk in the Mayor's Mansion.
 

6

4 a.m. At the P&W Beerworks the pre-dawn preparations were completed. A fleet of air lorries, filled with cans and bottles of Bubbles and Big Brew, waited only for the word of one man to proceed. That man, Mr Big, looked out upon the assembled vehicles from the upper level managers office. Behind him stood Albert, working on a minicomp. Deirdre and her friends, including the P&W President and CEO, were there as well, playing a game of strip poker. Thankfully, the audience saw that the ample women still had on their panties and T-shirts, but one can always dream (grin).
    Grunting, Big turned to his faithful assistant. "It's time, Albert. Let's get going."
    "Certainly, Mr Big. But you still didn't decide what to do about that one problem."
    "Ah," said Big, "you're right, Albert. I have to follow through on procedure. Deirdre, come here for a moment."
    A bit apprehensive on the inside, Deirdre stood up, wearing her innocent face. Bouncing on her toes (JF), the little woman stood next to her 'man'. She pressed her warm tee-clad bust into Big's side. "What do you have for me, Biggy-Wiggy?"
    Big grinned. "Yes, an appropriate phrase, for I do have something for you. Girls!" In a flash the other women got next to Deirdre, holding her firmly by the arms.
    "What's this all about, Biggy?" Deirdre's apprehension came to the surface, her smile undone.
    "Don't play me the fool, girl." Big's grin had more vindictiveness than playfulness. "The Bronze have discovered my wonderful plan too soon. There was only one time where the pertinent information could've been lifted. When you did your best to smother me, you read the file pad I had in my hand. However, thanks to my contacts, I learned of the police raid that will occur here shortly." Big softly held Deirdre's chin. "Pity. I'd so much wanted to see all of my product consumed by the women at the Fairgrounds. I'll just try something else next time."
    Deirdre tried to pull away from Big, her face set in disgust. "You'll get what's coming to you, pervert. The Police will get you."
    Big laughed, coughed, and hacked. "Unlikely, Deirdre. No regular Police pukes can catch me, and Wilcox and Parlor are not a part of the upcoming raid." Eyes gleaming with delight, Big focused on the other girls. "Okay, my most beautiful bunch of shower sheilas, you said you wanted more Big Brew. Well, I can now grant that request." Big reached into his vest pocket. He retrieved a key and gave it to Laura. "Laura, you and the girls take Deirdre here to my private office. That key will open the beer cabinet. Drink as much as you want, but make sure Deirdre gets more than her fill."
    "You bastard!" Deirdre seethed. "I should've suffocated you when I had the chance!"
    "Impossible, Deirdre. Good old Houdini learned his tricks from me! Albert! To the Bigmobile!"
    "As you command," said the laconic Albert.
    Laura and the girls made for the bottling floor, man-handling poor Deirdre all the way. The group entered Big's small office. Eagerly, Laura opened the beer cabinet, handing out bottles quickly. Deirdre was held down on a desktop, her friends oblivious to her pleas. Bottles opened, the girls chugged down their first beers. In moments their T-shirts got a bit tighter. Then the next round of rapid drinking came. Breasts got bigger while T-shirts became more restrictive. It became hard to move about in the little room with so many norks growing at the same time.
    Mouth forced open, bottle after bottle of Big Brew was emptied into Deirdre. Despite herself, the little woman succumbed to the beer's addictive taste. She wanted more. Her friends at this point were plastered, drinking as fast as they could, uncaring that their T-shirts have long since been rendered useless. The tri-dee audience didn't see this (the T14 rating had to be maintained, after all), but they heard the audible ripping of fabric nonetheless. Her own tee now tested to the limit, Deirdre staggered to the beer cabinet. She grabbed a bottle, undid the top, and drank greedily of the contents. The scene ended when her breathing caused her T-shirt to be torn asunder, allowing her norks more room to grow.


Right on schedule, the Police intercepted the P&W air lorries. The entrances to the Beerworks were sealed and teams of police officers sent in. One of the teams was composed of just two officers and a special volunteer. Officers Nadia Junker and Zachary Vandecreek made their way along the bottling floor, alert for any suspicious movement. The duo came to a halt when they reached a series of doors along a wall. Nadia undid the top three buttons of her copious shirt, allowing the head of Smudge, her pet miniature dachshund, to poke out of her ample cleavage.
    Nadia retrieved Smudge from his impromptu carriage, setting the overdeveloped rat on the floor. "Okay, boy," she said exuberantly, "go and sniff him out."
    Smudge looked indifferent, sitting on his haunches. "Smudge," Nadia implored, "go find that smelly little man. Get Big." Smudge still acted bored. He tried to get back in-between Nadia's basketball-breasts, but the tall woman easily pushed aside the mischievous rat. "Not yet, you rat. If you find Big, I'll give you a treat."
    Upon hearing the word 'treat' Smudge got excited. Tail a-waggin, Smudge used his pouting eyes on Nadia. "Get Big first, then treat. Okay? Find Big," Nadia commanded.
    Whining in anticipation, Smudge used his nose and proceeded to sniff. At the fifth door Smudge came to a halt, his forepaws raised and planted on the door. His tail wagged with enough force to tip over a tank.
    Nadia and Zach primed their stunners. With her right hand, Nadia activated her collar-comm. "Bravo Charlie 3 to Bravo Command," she said in a whisper, "we have found Big. Send assistance to Office 5 on the bottling floor."
    "Proceed, Bravo Charlie 3. Units converging on your location."
    Zach, as always, took the risk of opening the door and threw himself inside. Smudge and Nadia sprang in after him. What the trio saw made them produce oversized sweatbeads on their heads. With a mixture of consternation and embarrassment, Zach made a call on his collar-comm. Big wasn't in the room. Indeed, there literally wasn't any 'room' for him to hide in. What's needed now were blankets - lots and lots of big police blankets to cover the overinflated women that took up most of the space in the small office.


The buxom duo was currently patrolling the eastern city limit of New Darwin. Only scattered housing units and service malls broke up the morning monotony. Laramie had to find a patrol area that precluded the possibility of the duo from 'accidentally' turning up at the Beerworks. She couldn't have picked a better spot.
    "That's typical of Big," Lyn snorted, turning off the cruiser's central viewing panel. "He gets away, leaving a harem of hopelessly top-heavy sheilas behind to rebuild their shattered lives."
    "I couldn't agree more," replied June. "He blows them up and lets the wind carry them away." What June said could almost be taken as literal truth. The women in Big's office at the Beerworks drank a considerable amount of beer. Poor Deirdre was now saddled with oversized watermelons. Her friends were affixed with beachballs. Of course, all of the former Big lovelies were drunk, the inevitable consequence of consuming all that beer. Counselors stood ready to provide aid when the women become sober. It'll take a considerable amount of time to repair the damage that Big had wrought.
    "If only Laramie had stuck to her guns," said Lyn with conviction. "We could've saved those girls from drinking all that beer. But at least the lorries have been stopped."
    "Amen for that, sister. Big still has that new potion, though. If he follows through and uses that potion in other products, I just might have to stop using deodorant."
    Lyn giggled. "Then we lose both ways. You'll either end up as big as a pillow woman or smell worse than a pile of bushbear dung."
    "Funny Har-Har. Lyn, save your observations for more pertinent subjects. Take a look at that." June pointed to a large vehicle coming down the road. "It has to be Large Marge. It's one of the handful of vehicles on Outback that runs on petrol."
    "I think the actual fuel is called diesel." Lyn turned on the cruiser's cameras. "I'm going to save this for the scrap book. It's not often you see a 400 year-old vehicle running on the road."
    Large Marge was a road train, a type of truck that plied the roads and highways of Australia back on Earth centuries ago. Used to carry freight to and from remote towns and factories, road trains were much more practical than smaller trucks and more accessible than railroads and airports. Road trains might still have been in use, but the introduction of high-speed air lorries brought an end to a distinctly Australian invention.
    Like any proper road train, Large Marge pulled a considerable load. Six 15-meter trailers were hitched to the truck, a huge brick of power and style. The glossy black paint shined in the early morning light. Lyn had to adjust the cruiser's window tint, sparing her eyes from the truck's unintentional glare. The police cruiser and road train passed each other, the drivers waving their hands in greeting.
    "June, set the cruiser to autopilot. I'm going to take some still captures from the video for my scrapbook."
    "Sure thing." June pressed a button on the dash control. The cruiser's computer took over the driving responsibilities, maintaining an even course and speed. Lyn's controls still had override authority, which explained why the brakes were engaged two minutes later. June was thrown forward, her safety belts squeezing the breath out of her lungs (NB).
    "What the hell is that, Lyn? Even the computer wouldn't have slammed on the brakes like that."
    "Take a look at this." Lyn pointed at the view panel. "There, sitting next to the driver of the road train."
    "It appears to be a BAT (Boiler Android Trooper)," June offered, sounding only a little concerned. "That doesn't necessarily mean it belongs to Big. Remember, some of those BATs we captured two years ago were auctioned off for the Children's Hospital fundraiser."
    Lyn disagreed, manipulating the video. "Not so. Look at the sticker on this truck. I cross-referenced it with the gate passes for the Fairgrounds. This vehicle is permitted to carrying beverages, such as soda and beer. And," Lyn said with urgency, "it's owned in part by the president of the P&W Beerworks. Even though the road train is unmarked, there is no-other vehicle like it on the planet."
    June gulped "Oh My! That can only mean it's carrying Bubbles and Big Beer. Well, just don't sit..." June's words were cut-off when Lyn mashed down on the accelerator, turning the police car around. "Hey, warn me when you do that! What's the plan?"
    "Simple," said Lyn firmly. "We'll hit our rollers and tell them pull over. Large Marge is subject to emissions standards. We'll perform an emissions test, making them wait until Laramie can arrive with a warrant to open up the trailers and test the drinks. Of course, if that BAT is working for Big, then it'll be compelled to attack us on sight. That's what I'm counting on."
    "You're counting on a 200-kilo robot to attack you? Fine. You be the one to request that it step out of the vehicle."
 

7

Casper Lytes sang a little ditty, happy that he's part of Big's nefarious scheme. For the moment, the Police believe they have won the day by stopping the delivery of Bubbles and Big Beer. Casper imagined the shock those coppers will feel when they realize that a delivery of breast-enlarging drinks had slipped past them. Large Marge was loaded with the first batches of Bubbles and Big Beer two weeks ago. The huge vehicle then spent the intervening time at Casper's display lot, the thousands of people who saw it never knew what resided in the huge trailers. It was enough to make a devious little man like Casper blow up with glee. He had to sing to relieve the pressure. "I'm driving down Highway 40 in my big old... What Hey?" He glanced at the rear panel display. "Police rollers?"
    Sitting next to Casper was 38L, one of Big's Boiler Android Troopers. Make to look like a walking advertisement for Bubbles, the still-deadly robot made a mechanical noise. "What be it? Are we speeding?" said 38L haltingly.
    "No. We must have a blown out taillight or something." Casper proceeded to bring the road train to a stop. "Good thing that the road between here and the Fairgrounds has almost no curves."
    "Remember," said 38L, "be courteous and unassuming."
    "And you remember to kept quiet. According to your record, you can't talk."
    "Understood."
    The huge vehicle rolled to a stop as the police cruiser went to the other side of the road. Casper both mentally whistled and bit his tongue when he saw the officers exiting the cruiser. Ah, Hell. It has to be those two. They must have a link to the Almighty when it comes to finding criminals! "Howdy, Officers," Casper spoke with a pronounced Outback twang, "what may I do for you?"
    The tall officer with dark hair produced her minicomp. "Our atmospheric sensors detected anomalous readings from your vehicle's exhaust system. I like to see this vehicle's emissions testing file and your license, please."
    "Glad to oblige, Officer." Casper kept cool and complied with the request. 38L, on the other hand, found it exceeding difficult to remain cool. He identified the officers as Wilcox and Parlor. All BATs have hard-wired orders to attack the buxom duo in certain conditions. And this is one of them - a relatively deserted piece of road with practically no witnesses.
    Wilcox moved to the left (passenger) side of the vehicle, eyeing the robot up in the cab. "So, what's the robot's name? Is it Tipsy?"
    Casper grinned. "Actually, it's Bubbles. He'll be walking around the Fairgrounds as an advertisement for a new drink called Bubbles."
    "I'm wondering," said the tall officer, "did you buy that robot at a Police auction two years ago?"
    38L had enough. The mere thought of having Wilcox and Parlor in the same spot was too much. Two lasers popped out of 38L's forearms. The cab's windows were down, and 38L pointed his weapons at the officers...
    "Duck!" Wilcox grabbed ground, the laser missing by centimeters. She could only hope that June did the same. After pressing the emergency transmitter tab on her collar-comm, Wilcox pulled out her 10mm Service Gun and proceeded to blast the cab's passenger door. To Lyn's dismay, the bullets bounced off the door. It certainly wasn't the original metal on that thing.
    "You double-dork!" Casper cursed, hitting the BAT. "You had to shoot, didn't you?"
    "I have to o-bey orders," said 38L as it clambered out of the cab. Casper quickly raised the windows and locked the doors.
    June pounded on the driver's window. "Open up, Sir! You're under arrest! The charge is possession of an armed robot in city limits."
    "I can't hear you," bleated Casper. "Just try and stop me!" He started the rig, huge plumes of noxious smoke roiled out of the twin exhaust stacks.
    Meanwhile, on the other side of the rig, Lyn stood face-to-face with an enraged water heater. The BAT raised his menacing forearms...
    BAM-BAM! Lyn shot off the lasers, leaving the BAT unarmed (boy, what a bad pun). "Okay, you misbehaving piece of hardware," Lyn said with bravado, "raise those hands. No funny stuff."
    "I won't dream of it... Ossifer!" A chest panel slid open on 38L. In an eye blink, two flying cans of Bubbles knocked the gun out of Lyn's hands. Two more cans pegged her in the gut, making her double-over in pain. "38L gets in some licks," said the robot sarcastically. "The Bronze is unable to withstand the blistering assault!"
    Four more cans flew out, punishing the officer with savage speed. Lyn protected her face, but her forearms and legs received painful hits. She imagined the ugly bruises that would surely come from those hits. "You hideous monster! You're bruising the flesh of a public servant! A rather beautiful and cute one at that!"
    The perverted robot actually chuckled. "I've been programmed to do more than that, Bronze. You'll be beaten so bad that you'll be mistaken for roadkill."
    "We'll just see about that! Bad Attitude Powers - Activate!" Lyn delivered a series of blows to the robot. She also supplied the show's obligatory gratuitous panty shot. The attack was so intense that Lyn actually caused some of the bodypanels to cave in. Ruptured cans of Bubbles leaked their contents into 38L, causing it to short-out.
    "Stop! I was only following orders! Have Pity!" the robot pleaded.
    Totally unsympathetic, Lyn shoved 38L down onto the ground. A set of huge trailer tyres ran over the robot, crushing its midsection flat. "You humans always pick on us poor BATS. I was only doing my job..." 38L's whining was cut short by a mercy shot from Lyn's gun. She placed her weapon back in its holster.
    "June! Where are you?" Lyn yelled. The rig picked up speed, making Lyn dash to the safety of the police cruiser.
    "I'm up here!" It's June. She somehow got on top of the lead trailer. "Get in the car and follow! I think this joker is going to crash the Fairground's gate. We can't let that happen!"
    "Okay! I'll get on the horn! Just don't do anything stupid!"
    "You know me!"
    "That's what I'm concerned about!"


Casper giggled nervously. "I'll show them!" he boasted. "They can't stop Large Marge when she's carrying a load this important! I'll crash the gate and speed on towards the center of the Fairgrounds. Once there, the bottle dispensers in the trailers will operate at full-bore. HA! Sixteen thousand cans and bottles will be shot into the crowd. At least some women will pick up those cans and..."
    THUMP! Something landed on the cab's roof. Casper knew who it was. He turned on the external speakers. "You'll have to try better than that, Officer! The roof is bullet-proof too!" With glee, Casper made the big rig swerve and dance. The sight of six big trailers cavorting across the road certainly made Lyn anxious, driving but a short distance behind the rouge vehicle. As for June, she had to drop on her knees on the cab's top, holding onto the decorative railing for dear life.
    Lyn thought things couldn't get any worse, but they did. The loading gate on the last trailer opened, exposing two BATS armed with real weapons. Lyn changed vehicle modes, enabling the repulsar-lift drive as the tyres retracted into the cruiser. The BATs weren't going to get rid of Lyn that quick by shooting at her tyres.
    Back in the cab, Casper pounded the roof with his right hand. "Hey, Officer, you okay? Let me slow down so you can get off!" He mashed on the brakes, making the BATs lose their balance. They fell onto the road, only to become instant roadkill as Lyn tried to avoid them. The remains of a BAT head rested on the cruiser's hood.
    On the roof of Large Marge one can find June in her own predicament. The sudden braking made her lose her precarious hold on the roof. She plopped onto the hood, her arms latching onto the windshield wipers. They broke, and June slipped down towards the front. Casper rolled down his window and produced a gun, taking potshots at June.
    "What a jerk!" June cursed. The hood had been recently waxed, making June's attempts to crawl forward futile. Now with Casper shooting at her there was only one place left - the grillwork. June nearly fell off, but she caught the hood ornament, a silver pig with wings. The genuine silver fixture wasn't meant to support the weight of a person. It bent, then utterly broke at the base. Fortunately, June latched onto the grillwork for dear life, glad that she wore her gloves this morning.
    "June! Are you still with us?" Lyn spoke over the collar-comm.
    "Yes I am! I'm stuck at the front of this thing! Any ideas?"
    "A good one! I saw Large Marge plenty of items when I was a kid. There should be a manual hood release somewhere in the grillwork. A button, really. Press it."
    "Why should I do that?"
    "The driver can't very well drive if he can't see. Anyway, you can shoot up the engine once the hood is up."
    "Okay! Tell Amber about that! If we goof-up, I don't want to experience a roadblock first-hand!" Desperate, June's left hand worked through the grillwork, seeking the elusive release button. After what felt like hours she found and pressed the button.
    "Hellnation!" Casper yelled. Large Marge's hood raised up on mechanical arms, blocking Casper's forward view. There's no-way he could close the hood now, unless he wanted to stop. And stopping wasn't an option so long as the Bronze was on his tail. Four rapid gunshots startled Casper. He glanced at the gauges, horrified to see the indicators turning red. Then Casper heard the most dreadful sound any 20th century motorists would be familiar with - the sound of an engine utterly and totally seizing up.
    Large Marge slowed of its own accord, going up a slight incline. Only the matter of the turn ahead had to be addressed. Of course, since Casper couldn't see... The big rig left the road, entering a field of tape grass. June jumped clear of the rig, rolling away to safety. Large Marge hit a substantial boulder and flipped, coming to rest on its side. The vile contents of the ruptured trailers emptied out onto the ground. Cleanup after this mess will be tedious. Casper clambered out the passenger window, greeted by the sight of June pointing a gun at him. "Okay, wiseacre," June said firmly, "you truly are under arrest."
    Lyn guided her cruiser up to June, stopping only a few meters away. "Excellent work, partner," Lyn chimed, stepping out of the vehicle, "but you'll need to cover your bottom quickly. Good thing there's a spare microskirt in the trunk."
    June's shirt remained intact, despite being smeared with dirt and the occasional blade of tape grass. Additional blades of the appropriately-named grass stuck to her arms and legs. Her microskirt came undone in the roll, exposing a definitely non-regulation pink-and-lacy panty. Bold, black letters on her backside spelled the words NO STEP.
    Blushing appropriately, June place a free hand on her bottom in an attempt to cover up the embarrassing words. "What can I say?" she said honestly. "Today is wash day and this was all I could find. From now on I'm only give my knickers to extra special hunks!"
    Lyn sighed in annoyance. "June..."
 

8

Some 200km east of New Darwin lies one of Big's numerous secret lairs. It's a small house that played host to a equally small attached greenhouse. Inside the house, Big watched a news report on his wrist minicomp. Large Marge the road train was intercepted by none other than Wilcox and Parlor. That alone would've made Big steamed, but the little criminal was anything but creative. He turned off his minicomp and gazed up at the ceiling, preparing for his required supervillan soliloquy. "Casper Lytes may have failed me, but I will strike again! Bubbles and Big Brew is just a foretaste of what's to come! My potion will find its way into roll-on deodorants, lipstick, toothpaste, and breath mints! My special little bundle of joy will provide me the ingredient needed! Ha!"
    That special little ingredient Big mentioned was a plant. Specifically, it's the last example of the Nepalese Mountain Rosebush. An extract from the rose pedals had the desired quality to increase a woman's bust when ingested. Big's been able to extract this quality and apply it to the creation of Bubbles and Big Brew. He still strived to recreate the original, and far more potent, potion. The Nepalese monks that concocted the original potion had burned down their monastery and fled. Big felt that with his rosebush and other resources he had all the time he needed.
    Whistling, Big got up and made for the greenhouse. He donned a garden apron and hat before entering the hot and humid structure. Big's happy feeling ended when he spied Pumpkin piddling on the rosebush. "Pumpkin, what are you doing?! Get away!"
    The little dachshund scampered away, but the damage was done. The last example of the Nepalese Mountain Rosebush curled up into a brown mass of branches and leaves. When Big gingerly touched a dehydrated leaf the whole kit-and-kaboodle turned into a pile of dust. All the dreams of avarice Big had about the plant went up in dust also.
    "Pumpkin! You good-for-nothing poop machine!"
    The dog went into surrender mode, belly exposed in a sign of submission. Try as he might, Big couldn't get angry at Pumpkin. The dog's big, black, dewy eyes touched what had to be the only strand of compassion that resided in the man. "Ah, Hell," Big lamented, "I can't stay mad at you. Come over here and give Biggy a kissy-kissy."
    Pumpkin got on her haunches, begging to be held. Big picked up his 'little-precious' and held her up to his face. The overdeveloped rat licked away at Big's chin, making the supercriminal giggle in delight.



Lyn carefully sat in a chair in Central Station's cafeteria, minding the icepacks on her forearms, abdomen and legs. June, fresh as a daisy in a new uniform, sat next to her friend. "Good thing you didn't break any bones, Lyn. What's the verdict?"
    "For my body, three days to Wellville. As for you and me, Laramie is backing us up on this one. Casper Lytes, in addition to carrying all those tainted bottles, has also been charged with driving with an expired license. What a dummy."
    "He won't be selling overpriced car parts for a long time," June said. "Ah, Paul is here!"
    Paul Jarvis, a fellow cop on the force, joined his friends in the cafeteria. He looked a little guilty.
    "What's with the face, Paul?" teased June. "I would think arresting eight female exhibitionists at the Fairgrounds would make any man's day! Tell me, where any of them bigger than me?" June cupped her copious front.
    "June!" Lyn scowled. "Be nice. Paul had to endure the hardship of maintaining his professionalism in the presence of all those heavenly bodies. He should be reward." Lyn leaned over and planted a kiss on Paul's cheek.
    Paul blushed. "Thanks. To be honest, June, all the girls were bigger than you, both in height and bust. I was afraid my eyes would be put out."
    "That's the spirit! Live it up!" June gave Paul a congratulatory pat on the back. "I'm just wondering if any of those drinks at the Beerworks got lost in the shuffle."
    "With Big, anything is possible," Lyn said past a sigh.


Chief Talbert went over the report, only looking up at Dr Sung to ask an occasional question. "So, all the tests are positive?"
    "Yes, Chief. Of the 44 women affected by the drinks, 30 of them decided to get a reduction. The nanites are working perfectly."
    "Good to hear. Pity that six of them decided to get bigger. In a way, Big has scored a victory. Every breast caper that Big concocts at least some women enlarge themselves."
    "True, Chief. Perhaps those women decided to make the most of their situation. Be thankful that none of these women decided to become pillow women, or were spirited away by Big to one of his hideouts."
    "For that I'm grateful. I'm even more grateful that the Fairgrounds was spared from Large Marge's perverted cargo. The poser, however, is what became of the 3,400 unaccounted-for 24oz bottles of Bubbles. Big may have stashed them somewhere on this planet. Worse yet, there could be cases distributed randomly at mom-and-pop stores and remote service stations. We could be looking at random incidents of breast expansion due to Bubbles for years to come. Oh", Talbert said, straightening up, "any idea on who might've taken those two Big Brew bottles from Evidence?"
    "Haven't a clue, Chief," Sung said honestly, though he smiled on the inside. "If it's one of our female officers, then we'll hear about it on the grapevine soon enough."
 

[Epilogue - Two Weeks Later]

On the western edge of the Sea of Derby there's a beach owned by a luxury resort. On this particular afternoon the beach played host to a smattering of vacationing couples. One of those couples is Patricia Laramie and her husband Douglas. Thanks to prolong, both Patty and Doug looked like energetic people in their 50's.
    Sitting on a decorative beach towel, Doug admired the swimsuit that his wonderful wife of 80 years wore. He especially like the addition to his wife's top. "Honey, you're not planning to keep those, are you? As much as I like them, the kids and neighbors will ask questions."
    Patty daintily placed a hand on one of her now pronounced breasts. "Don't you fret, Doug. Four days before we leave I'll inject myself with nanites. When we get back to the house no-one will be the wiser."
    Doug grinned, his eyes filling with arousal. "Did you get those nanites from the same source you got the beer? How much did you shell out?"
    "Not a penny, dear. My friend did this for me as a gift." Patty snuggled up to Doug, holding him close to her new assets. "We're both 100-years old and this is our 80th wedding anniversary. We have six kids and 14 grandkids to our credit. For the next ten days I'm going to spoil you rotten. Can you do the same for me?"
    "Oh, yes, my goddess. Care to get an all-over tan? But I believe we need an extra large bottle."
    "Lecher!" Patty stuck out her tongue. "You do that, Doug. I'll wait."
    Doug went to a beach-side concession stand to get a bottle of suntan oil. While she waited, Patty pulled the top of her swimsuit away to get a brief look at her enlarged wonders. The normally 36C Patty now played host to a set of 36G norks. For the next ten days Patty will experience the joy of being a bosom goddess like Lyn and June.
    The trash can behind Patty was emptied by a resort employee. Two glass beer bottles clinked together as they were dropped into a large trash hopper. The labels on those bottles spelled out the words 'Big Brew'.
 
 
END 27