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[Prologue]

2419, New Darwin. Nadia Junker and her husband Harold were holding a party at their house. It was a celebration of Amber's infant son's first birthday. The little tot, David, was developing nicely. Everyone was sure that David would be the next 400 meter dash record holder, considering how fast he crawled.
    The guests started to arrive. Lynnae and Paul Jarvis had just come from work, still wearing the dumpy overcoats that the members of Blue Team, a police detective squad, always wore. June and Greg Norbert arrived a minute later. June, like her friend Lynnae, also wore the trademark overcoat. Dan Spirit Talker and Tobias Eddings arrived alone; their wives were currently on the Stroud for a four-month deployment.
    The Carson couple was next. Bert was grinning like an idiot, protectively but gently escorting Amber inside. Sleeping in Amber's arms was David, wrapped up in a hand-made blanket, a gift from Lyn. Then the last two couples showed up. Alberto and Alysa Cerrano gracefully entered, their five-month old daughter Faith fidgeting in Alberto's arms. Just as that couple sat down, Felicity Wilcox entered... with Sylvester Drake in hand. The rejuvenated grandmother of Lynnae Wilcox and the former supercriminal were the most unlikely couple one could image. Felicity, thanks to her renewed body, looked like a woman in her early thirties. Sylvester, after the removal of his curse, appeared to be a well-preserved 70, and much better looking than the wrinkled prune he used to be.
    The usual greetings and hugs were exchange. Then the dinner was served, with plenty of extra helpings of mashed potatoes, Bert's favorite. After the dinner table banter the group made for the living room. The guests then presented gifts to Amber, who opened them for David. It was the usual fair: baby shoes, jackets, and pants that David will grow out of all too soon. Then there was Felly and Sylvester's gift: a baby rattle with a gold handle.
    "Uncle Silly, you outdid yourself as usual," Amber playfully said. Sylvester blushed. It was just two years earlier that Amber did her darnest to destroy the former Mr Big. Restored, Sylvester was now the group's adoptive uncle. That included being labeled with the nickname Uncle Silly.
    "Well, if I was my old self, the gift would've been a lump of coal. That gold rattle use to belong to the French royal family. I pocketed it way back in 1724 during a 'fishing expedition' in the royal court. I couldn't get any of the ladies, but their trinkets were fair compensation."
    Felly pinched Sylvester's cheek. "Well, now that we're going to tell stories, let's really give them one."
    Sylvester blushed again, massaging his face to a semblance of normalcy. "If you insist, dear." He then looked at his expectant audience. "You know, in my former life as Mr Big, I've did several capers in my quest to enlarge women's breasts everywhere. I've already told the story of 1878 Nevada and 1997 New York. There was one other 20^thcentury breast caper. You like to hear it?"
    "You bet, Uncle Silly," Nadia said. "There are thousands of disappointed women on Outback that wished that your beam worked. Maybe this tale will give them inspiration."
    "I hope not, you wild filly," Sylvester replied with a twinkle in his eye. "I've enlarged women to suit my tastes, not theirs. Sure, some of them did learn to appreciate their new assets, but there are some who've cursed my name with their last breath." Sylvester motioned with his arm, indicating that the group should draw closer. "Thank you. I may no longer hack and cough, but my voice is not what it use to be. Here's the story..."
 

1

1973. Springbloom, North Dakota. A modest little town of 1,500, Springbloom had three main employers: the Jurgen Seed Company, a North Dakota Department of Roads station, and Otto's Truck Stop and Lumber Yard. Main Street had the typical shops and diners. The main attraction and social gathering point was the 8-lane Deadwood Bowling Alley. The Fire Department was volunteer, but the town generated enough revenue to rate three full-time officers.
    Chief Vance Wilcox parked his pickup in front of the Springbloom Police Station. At 45, Vance looked ten years older. That was due to his work in the wheat fields as a kid and from his time served in the Army during the Korean War. After squaring away his unruly hair, Vance entered the station and was greeted by Laura, the station's only civilian employee. She worked the radio, telephone, and the rest of the necessary duties. That included making coffee. Laura handed a hot, steaming mug to Vance.
    "Here you go, Chief," Laura said.
    "Thanks, Laura. Have Rhonda and Stacey arrived?"
    Laura smiled. "In fact, they were here at 5:30. They responded to a call from Jerry Cooper's place. It seems that some 'damn smoochers' spent the night in Jerry's cornfields."
    "Did they find anything?"
    "Nothing, as usual. They told Jerry that they scared them away."
    Chief Wilcox sighed. Jerry Cooper was a fellow Korean veteran, but his grain silo wasn't always full. It made for a colorful personality, but it was at the expense of having imaginary smoochers using Jerry's cornfields as kissing zones. At the very least it gave the cops an opportunity to drive their trucks on country roads. Crime in Springbloom was rare, and more often than not the police were used as designated drivers, taking home drunken farmers and road maintenance workers.
    Just then the other police truck pulled up. Out stepped Officer Rhonda Wilcox, daughter of the Chief, and Officer Stacey Parlor, Rhonda's friend. The two female cops entered the station and smelled the rich aroma of coffee.
    "Smells great, Laura. Any of that left?" said Stacey as she walked towards the coffee pot.
    "Good morning, Daddy." Rhonda hugged her father. Chief Wilcox hugged back as best as he could, but his daughter's volleyball bust made that difficult, as always. He knew it was a trait that was passed on his side of the family. His wife, Carla, knew about this too, but was sure that her 'Garver Genes' would prevail. Of course, Carla was proven wrong. At age 14 Rhonda went from 4'11" and 30A to 5'10" and 36H in five months. Carla was both happy and concerned that her little girl grew like the proverbial weed in those months, but Grandfather Wilcox, God rest his soul, reassured Carla that it happened to all Wilcox girls.
    Stacey shared the same bustiness as Rhonda, though at 5'3" and 32Q Stacey was much more of a mammary goddess. Like Rhonda, Stacey got her ampleness from her father's side of the family. It was an unwritten rule that Parlor women have larger busts than Wilcox women, and Stacey made the most of that fact. Several times she was banned from swimming at Dell Pond. Swimsuits of her own construction often failed, making gawking boys fall down and hurt themselves.
    After pouring out a cup, Stacey took a long sip. "Tastes great. Fair compensation for another wasted morning." Stacey wiped her mouth. "We nearly ran into a deer on the way back. Unusual, since we don't usually see them until late September."
    "Speaking of September, it's time to advertise the sale of hunting licenses." Chief Wilcox said. "Stacey, can your father run off the posters later this week?"
    "Sure thing, Mr Wilcox. Daddy will run the advertisement in the paper for free." Sam Parlor, Stacey's dad, was the editor of the Springbloom News, the town's weekly paper. The News was often used by Mr Parlor to regal readers about Stacey's exploits. A simple little thing like fixing a flat tire on a delivering truck often made the front page. Stacey did like the attention, but did wish that her father was less exuberant. Annie Parlor, Stacey's mom, ran the advertisement and gossip section of the paper. At least she had the decency not to embarrass her little girl. Well, not that often!
    "Fine, but I'll be the one photographed for the paper this week." Rhonda said, sticking out her tongue like an imp.
    "Go ahead, Rhonda. At least people can now recognize you by face instead of bust." Stacey threw back, making for her favorite chair. Coffee is best appreciated sitting down.

2

Some eight miles outside of Springbloom, accessible via a dirt road, was the old Patterson residence. The '70 T-Bird made its way to the apparently dilapidated and abandoned house. Next to the house was an equally ratty-looking garage. By itself the garage door opened, letting the huge car inside. The car idled for a moment, then stopped. The driver's side door opened, and out stepped Mr Big, immortal supercriminal.
    "Albert, I'm home!" Big yelled, brushing off imaginary lint from his suit.
    Albert, Big's assistant, entered the connected garage via a kitchen door. "How was the trip from Minneapolis?"
    "Quite. Good thing I had some Stones tapes with me, otherwise I would've ended up in a ditch. Are Heather and Bonnie here?"
    "Yes. They're quite anxious too. Also, some of our cycle associates are here."
    "Excellent. Have Heather and Bonnie meet me in my bedroom. I'll need some help getting this trousered ape suit off."
    "As you command, Big." Albert entered the house to do his boss's bidding.

3

Meanwhile, back at Big's hideaway, the group had settled in the living room. Heather and Bonnie were happy, accepting the boxes Big gave them. "There you go, girls. Open them up." The two women removed the wrapping and packing straw. Each of them drew out a long, slim case. Inside those cases were expensive necklaces.
    "Oh, Biggy, this is the best." Heather wore her necklace, the bottom third of which disappeared into her cleavage. It was the same story for Bonnie.
    "That's not the best part!" Big smiled as he drew out a blue diamond-shaped crystal.
    "Pretty!" Bonnie exclaimed. "How much did that set you back?"
    Big wore his famous schoolboy smile. "Hardly nothing. I got it in Cairo. An obscure little shop that specialized in jewelry had it for sale. Out of all the fakes the man had, he didn't know that this little pup was real. Had he know the story of this crystal, he would've kept it for himself. I guess he'll just have to live with the $1,000 I gave him for it."
    Hog Jockey, one of the cyclists, was transfixed on the crystal's unnatural blue color. "What's the deal with that stone, Big? Does it increase sexual powers?"
    "As if I need more mattress magic. Right, girls?" Big's women giggled. They knew that for the truth. "No, this crystal has a very special power. Girls, stay still for a moment." Big concentrated. Then the blue crystal glowed and pulsated. The girls yelped when they were hit by a thin blue beam.
    "What was that?" Bonnie felt herself up, seeing if the beam had burned her.
    "Don't worry, girls. The effects will occur momentarily."
    "What effe... oooh," Heather was cut-off when she saw and felt her bust expand. Her F-cup top was now K - and still growing fast. Bonnie was wide-eye as her boobs blew up like the proverbial balloons. The T-shirts at capacity, a series of rips appeared along the sides. The breasts were bigger that basketballs, the flesh squeezing out of the armholes and collar. In a futile attempt the girls tried to push their expanding mass back down into their T-shirts. But all that did was make Big very, very happy. After twenty seconds the growth stopped. Both women gawked at their beachball breasts. The T-shirts were ripped in two, only the thin collar band held the tattered garments together. They looked like huge napkins on the front of the girls' chests, rising and lowering with their breathing.
    "Biggy, what have you done to us? We're huge!" The girls patted the sides of their immensness. The cycle jocks were getting anxious.
    "This little blue rock is a genuine artifact from the lost continent of Atlantis," Big proclaimed in glee. "In my travels, I've learned about the crystal, and I dedicated my time to track it down. And now, after 15 years of searching, I have it! This blue crystal has the power to enlarge or shrink the bust of a woman. All you have to do is just think what you want, point it at the woman in question, and wa-la! Instant boob city!"
    "Biggy, you're not gonna keep us this huge forever? I mean, I can hardly stand!" Heather's new mass was doing it's best to pull her to the floor, but her back muscles were up to the task.
    "Don't fret, my dear. You'll be returned to normal, but tonight we'll play doctor and nurse!" Big looked at the cycle jocks. "Don't worry, boys! You'll have some fun tomorrow morning. The girls will need a good bath in the water tank. I figure the four of you can get the job done. But first, I need your help to escort the girls to my bedroom. My arms aren't what they use to be!"
    The girls giggled with delight as they were helped upstairs. Mr Big played a very good doctor!

4

Thursday evening. Mr Big played host to several friends. The five men were all representatives of the skin industry. One was a magazine publisher, another an owner of a men's club, and there was even a photographer of the female form. All of these men owed their start to Mr Big.
    One guest finished his cigar with one long draw. "Big, considering what me and my friends went through to get here, I hope you have something worth our while."
    "Sammy, Sammy, have I ever got something! I know the trip from the airport was a bit unconventional, but you'll agree it will be worth the discomfort." Big sat down in his chair, taking a big draw from a fine Havana stogie. "All of you, how do you rate your women, chest-wise?"
    "They could be bigger," one man said. "With our boys coming home from Nam they need something to look at."
    "Bigger is better." Another guest said. "A stuffed bra can only do so much."
    Big kackled. "So true! My friends, I have a plan that will revitalize your business - clubs, magazines, floor shows - and rake in the dough! Bonnie, Heather, come on in!"
    The two girls entered the living room, wearing only tight cut-off jeans and T-shirts. Big had restored them to their natural F-cup size. "Gentlemen," Big proclaimed, "I have here in my hand the tool to enhance women's bustlines! With this, you'll make money like there's no tomorrow! Smile, Girls!" At that instant, Big concentrated on the blue crystal he held in his right hand. As before, a blue beam shot from the crystal and enveloped the women. Big willed the girls' busts to grow only to basketball size, but it was enough to rip open the T-shirts.
    "Hot Damn! This had better be the real McCoy! May I?" One of the guest said, getting up with both hands outstretched.
    "Go ahead and feel for yourself. But don't damage the merchandise!" Big giggled.
    The man felt the breasts, looking for trickery. The girls giggled from the touching. "Mister, your hands feel like sandpaper!" The man stopped. "Hey, we didn't tell you to stop," Bonnie said, placing her hand over the man's.
    "They're real all right," the skin dealer said. "Definitely not stage props. What's the deal with the blue rock?"
    Big held the crystal lovingly. "It's a magical stone from Atlantis, and I have it! With some subtle care, you'll get the boob women you need."
    "There's a problem with that, Big," Sammy pointed out. "If we use this on the girls we already have, there's bound to be some questions. What we need is new, fresh-faced girls from backwater towns." The other four men murmured in agreement.
   Big jumped up, face glowing. "I anticipated such a need. When you guys leave on Monday you won't be returning home empty-handed. Now it's time for a toast. Albert, bring in the drinks!"
    Albert glided into the room, glasses at the ready. Big raised his glass in toast. "Towards a big future!"
    "Big future," the guests said. Big sipped his drink and nearly gagged. "Albert, is this '30s moonshine! Where's the Jack Daniels I asked for?"
    "It's not here, Big. The two cycle jocks I sent to town to pick up the bottle haven't returned."
    "Shit kickers! Can't trust them even to pick their noses! I'll have a few choice words when they come back!"

5

The night patrol was dull, so Rhonda tuned the radio to her favorite station. She tapped her right forefinger to the beat of the song Satisfaction as she drove down Maple Street. David mouth the words of the song, making Rhonda snigger. "Still wished that you sang at the homecoming dance, David? Had you done that, then everyone would've turned deaf."
    "And had you danced, everyone would've gone blind." David protected his head from Rhonda's reflexive punch. It was true that no dress could withstand Rhonda's dancing gyrations for long, but if one wanted to live long they didn't mention that fact often! "How did it feel being Queen of the Wallflowers?"
    "As if you had to ask. The other boys were afraid of me and Stacey. Afraid that we could crush their ribcages by accident. But that can't happen, otherwise you'll been at Doc Becker's place right now."
    David rubbed his chest. "I don't know about that. I think my ribs are bruised. Wait, what's that?"
    The police truck had turned a corner, heading down Main Street. Next to the Larson Drugstore was Stacey's truck and a group of people. Rhonda turned on her rollers (police lights) and edged up to the scene. To her relief it was Stacey, along with William, Kyle, and Becky. Rhonda parked her truck and got out, her flashlight in hand. "Stacey, what's the story?"
    Officer Parlor turned her flashlight on two sitting men. They were handcuffed and still quite drunk. Stacey had to tie their legs to prevent them from running away. "It seems these fine gentlemen tried to impose themselves on Will and the kids. I persuaded them otherwise. Now, if you're not too wrapped up with David, can you throw these guys in the cell for me? I have to take Will and the kids back home."
    "Sure thing, Stacey. But you'll have to clean out the cell in the morning. I did it the last time."
    "Fair is fair. Come on, I'll help you put them in your truck bed."

6

Friday morning. At Stacey's house Rhonda used the key her friend gave her. No one answered the knocks, so Rhonda took it upon herself to enter and find out what was going on. Rhonda looked around the living room. Someone, no, make that two people had dinner last night. Two denuded pork chops and empty cola bottles were on collapsible trays. The kitchen had also seen its share of activity. The stove hadn't been cleaned and the sink was lined with dirty silverware and coffee cups. It was then that Rhonda spotted the trail of clothes leading to Stacey's bedroom.
    Rhonda rapped the bedroom doorframe three times and entered. There, snuggled in the sheets, were Stacey and Will. In haste, the couple applied blankets to their anatomy. Stacey looked downright embarrassed. "Well, gee... Ah, good morning, Rhonda," Stacey said, trying to gather more blanket over her bosom, "did you get the message?"
    Rhonda leaned on the door frame. "Yeppers. Strange, considering that the truck was filled up yesterday. And you didn't cover all that many miles on patrol. Did you make a run to Bismarck?"
    "What if I did? If so, what could possibly be in Bismarck that I can't find here in town?" Stacey snuggled up to Will, resting her head on his shoulder.
    "Oh, a little old woman by the name of Grandma Wilcox told me about your search for a wedding dress," Rhonda said with frankness. "You've made arrangements weeks ago for a fitting session."
    "Wedding dress?" Will questioned. "Stacey, you've been planning something all along, haven't you?"
    "Guilty," Stacey impishly replied, "are you going to change your mind?"
    "Hell no. I should've known you had plans made. You've been waiting for the right moment to get me by my lonesome."
    "I had some help," Stacey said, rubbing Will's back. "Grandma Wilcox gave me that little bit of encouragement to try. Old Grandpa Wilcox pulled the same trick on her back in the 20's."
    Rhonda straightened her tie and shirt. "Stacey, the truck is all ready to go. I expect you to report at the station in one hour. After all, you need a bath, and Will certainly needs one." Rhonda cleared the air in front of her. "Did both of you eat some beans last night along with your pork chops?"
    Two flying pillows nailed Rhonda in the chest. "Get outta here, you peeping tomboy!" Stacey playfully bellowed. "This isn't some Minneapolis cat house!" Stacey and Will stuck out there tongues. Rhonda left the two lovebirds alone. Their bath together was an adventure all unto itself.

7

Late Friday afternoon. Carla and Grandma Wilcox were setting the dinner table. They placed the plates and silverware with practiced efficiency. They also talked gossip with equal skill.
    "Did you hear about Stacey and Will? They were eating lunch together at the bowling alley," Carla said conspiratorially.
    "So," Grandma countered, "they do that at least twice a week."
    "No, not like this. They were holding hands!" Carla beamed. "And they kissed! Why, Stacey even pushed Will's wheelchair down Main Street, letting Will use her bust as a headcushion!"
    "Sounds like its sugar and cream for those two!" Grandma giggled. "Now, what about the story going around about Rhonda and David, hmmm?"
    Carla turned a little sour. "That's just wild rumors. Rhonda knows better than to get friendly with David. No daughter of mine is going to waste time with the son of that filthy..."
    "Filthy what, mother?" The sound of Rhonda's voice startled Carla, making her drop the silverware. "Well, the rumors are true! I went to the movies last night with David and had a great time. Now," Rhonda said, now in the dining room proper, "just what are you going to do about that?"
    "Rhonda," Carla said sternly, "you know how I feel about Mr Schultz. He's..."
    "Not the enemy! Mom, it's far past time for you to grow up and move on!" Rhonda said with venom. "Your brother Sam has been dead thirty years now, so stop with that damn shrine of his over the fireplace, for Pete's sake!"
    SLAP! Rhonda was soundly hit on the cheek by Carla's open palm. But Rhonda wasn't through yet. "You're not the only one who lost loved ones in the war! Otto lost his whole family in Dresden, and yet he found it within himself to move on and start again in the states! It really broke his heart when you ignored him, even when Mrs Schultz died five years ago. I bet you dance on her grave every chance you get!"
    "That's damn unfair, Ronnie!" Carla choked, torn between hate and tears. "Sam deserved to live, not that Kraut!"
    "Thanks for making the decision for me, mom," Rhonda shot back. "I refuse to live in a house were people can't put the past behind them." With that Rhonda walked out, picking up a suitcase by the door and placing it in her pickup. Carla stood at the screen door crying. Grandma was at Carla's side, giving her comfort and condolence.
    "She's right, damn my pride," Carla lamented. "Will Rhonda ever find it in her heart to forgive me?"
    Grandma hugged her son's wife. "Don't you give up on Ronnie. She'll come back once she knows you and Otto have talked to each other. She's as stubborn as her daddy - give her time."

8

Saturday morning. Stacey was making breakfast, scrambling eggs and cooking bacon on the stovetop. Rhonda was in the living room watching cartoons. In the middle of Scooby Doo there was a knock at the front door. Wearing her knee-lenght nightshirt, Rhonda answered the door, finding her father on the other side.
    "Good morning, pumpkin. Care to talk to me about yesterday?"
    "No, dad. I refuse to stay in the same house with mom."
    Chief Wilcox looked dejected. "Mom's all busted up about yesterday. She would really like to make peace with you."
    "I just don't know. Me and David are like this." Rhonda crossed her fingers and showed them to her father. "If we have to, me and David will move away and get married somewhere else."
    "Regardless of what you do, Rhonda, you'll always have my ear to talk to." Chief Wilcox turned and headed back for his truck. He stuck his head out the driver's window. "Ronnie, me and your mom will be at church tomorrow, at the 11 a.m. mass. I'll appreciate it if you can find it in your heart to see your mom at that time."
    "I can't make any promises, Dad," Rhonda said from the door. She stayed there until her dad drove off. Dejected, Rhonda went into the kitchen. Stacey had finished making the breakfast.
    Stacey poured some orange juice into Rhonda's glass. "So, I take it that your dad wants you and your mom to make up?"
    Rhonda drank half of her orange juice before coming back up for air. "Yes, but I don't just know." She stared at her half-empty glass. "It's very hard to turn back once you burn your bridges."
    "You haven't burned your bridges, honey," Stacey said, sitting down and placing her hand on Rhonda's. "It's more like repairing them. Now, what about you and David, hmmmmm? You came back rather late last night, about 2 a.m. What did you two do?"
    "I think you already know, Stacey."
    "Nope, you can't cop out on me. You saw with your own eyes what me and Will did. Now, fess up."
    "Would you believe me and David were cloud busting?"
    "Ronnie, there weren't any clouds out last night."
    Rhonda teased a lock of hair. "They were too clouds. Very high clouds."
    "Are you sure it wasn't buttons you were busting?"
    "Stacey!"

"Say, you look kinda cool in those black threads, Mr Big," said Joey Gondola, an East Coast adult dancer manager.
    Mr Big stood proudly in his black threads. "This ninja outfit came from the genuine source. It was a payoff to keep me quiet about a certain ninja's 'indiscretions' he committed while on an assignment! Me and Albert will be wearing these threads tonight for our adventure."
    "What's that, Mr Big?"
    The little criminal tasked Joey with a finger. "Forgotten already? Tonight, with the grace of my blue crystal, I'm gonna inflate several nubile high school seniors! Albert will film the proceedings. Then, after the film is developed, you and your friends will make your choices of which girls will go back east with you."
    Joey scratched his head. "Won't the authorities have something to say about that?"
    "Ha! I've figured that into my plans! This little butt-stain of a town will belong to me as of 6 p.m. tomorrow night!"

9

6:45 p.m. The dance was in full swing; high school seniors were slow-stepping to sedate western music. None of that vile rock-n-roll music would be played as long as the adults were there. Rhonda and David kept their watch on the kids, but they weren't the only chaperons at the dance. Stacey and Will were in attendance also, keeping their eyes on the kids, especially Kyle and Becky. The AV genius was decked out in his best jeans, shirt, and boots. Becky had on plaid shirt and wore her favorite red suspenders. Gut the Dachshund kept watch under the punch bowl. Any attempt to spike the cherry punch would be met by Gut's challenging growl.
    Sam and Annie Parlor were at the dance for a short time. They took photos for the Sunday edition of the paper and interviewed Stacey and Will. Mrs Parlor saved her last two photo shots for the new couple, catching their genuine expressions of joy forever on film. With kisses and hugs exchanged the Parlors left, leaving the care of the 46 high school seniors in the capable hands of Rhonda and company.
    "Have they gone?" asked Rhonda. Kyle looked out a gym window.
    Kyle closed the window shade. "Yes, Rhonda. They just pulled out of the parking lot."
    "Groovy," the cop said. "It time to jazz up the place." With purposeful intent, Rhonda removed the sedate western wax platter with a disk of her own. Gingerly applying the record needle, the whole gym was treated to the Rolling Stones tune Satisfaction. "Now, let's see some swinging torsos!"
    The teens rejoiced - Yeah! Nubile young women and their beaus attacked the dance floor with energy. Eastern people (including those in Fargo) think that small town folk are sedate and backwards. Small town teens, however, are just as rebellious and spirited as their decadent eastern brethren. The only difference was that country girls still dressed modest and proper.
    The chaperons weren't the only ones enjoying the dance. Up in the support beams of the gym's roof was one ninja-clad Mr Big and a similarly-dressed Albert. Big lustfully eyed the girls while Albert filmed the dance. Carefully, Big pulled out his fabulous blue crystal, holding it with exquisite care. His original plan was just to inflate five girls, one each for his guests. Heck, Big told himself, why not all of them? After all, country girls are supposed to be bigger and healthier than city girls! With purpose, Big held out the crystal and concentrated carefully.
    From underneath the punch table Gut growled in challenge. He plodded out into view, gazing up to the ceiling. "What is it, Gut?" Stacey asked, amuzed by the sight of the walking stomach trying to act mean. "Is there a bat up in the rafters?"
    Rhonda and David's eyes bulged out when they saw a blue glow surround each of the teenage girls on the gym floor. The girls gasped in shock, their boyfriends equally transfixed by the queer display. Then it happened. To a girl, each began to experience breast expansion (ta-dum!). Some girls squealed in surprize and alarm as they saw their shirts and blouses being pushed out and away from their chests. Those with snug-fitting shirts were the first ones to lose buttons, but they were soon followed by the rest. Second later the girls were sporting softball-sized lungs, and stitches and seams began to fail. The sound of ripping fabric with loud and sudden. More girls exclaimed their alarm, trying to cover up their fronts. Some adventurous boys, trying to get a better look at their inflating belles, slipped on liberated buttons and landed on their pride.
    "What the hell's going on!" Stacey yelled. "Looks like something out of a grade-D movie!"
    "More like some weird Italian science-fiction movie," David said, his eyes shifting from girl to girl. "Some of those spaghetti babes are real lookers."
    "David!" Rhonda exclaimed. "This is serious!" The situation was indeed serious. By now the girls had volleyball breasts, their shirts rendered utterly useless. Some of the girls were crying, others were bewildered by what was happening to them. A few lasses seemed to enjoy their new size, touching and caressing the exposed flesh. Then, just as suddenly as it happened, the blue glow disappeared and the girls stopped growing. Girl for girl, the female students each had breasts as big as Rhonda's.
    "Everyone, calm down!" Rhonda ordered. "Boys, you better not get any ideas! Get to the west wall NOW! If you start molesting those poor girls, God help me, I'll make you get religion real quick!" The boys obeyed; they had no doubt that Rhonda would follow through on her word. "David, start calling up the parents and have them come over here. Stacey! Get my dad on the radio and have him bring over Doc Becker!"
    Up in the rafters Big grinned. The scene surpassed his wildest expectations. Seeing so many young women grow out of their tops was almost too much for the little crime lord. It's weird that the crystal wouldn't inflate Wilcox and Parlor, but I can live with that! The little criminal mused. His little eyes spied one girl on the gym floor that he missed. How did that happen? She must've been in the bathroom. Well, I can fix her lack of lovely lumps! Big held the crystal again and concentrated. The cute little thing with red hair and wire-rim glass will not only surpass the other girls, but will receive Big's 'special attention'.
    Becky was amazed and concerned about her schoolmates' sudden growth. Having breasts that were only found on fantasy nudes would make finding new bras a challenge. The lingerie shops in Bismarck had problems enough getting stock for Stacey and Rhonda! Then suddenly, just as it happened to her friends, Becky herself was surrounded by a blue glow. She was now the center of attention, receiving the most of it from Kyle. Quickly, and proudly, her new bust pushed out her plaid shirt, the buttons already being stressed. Her suspenders were muscled out of the way by her filling mammaries. Becky winced as the first of many buttons fought and lost against the relentless expansion.
    Kyle knew he had to do something. He would gladly offer his shirt to Becky, but she had already surpassed volleyball size and showed no signs of stopping. He looked around, seeing that everyone was practically gawking at his girl. "What the Hell are you guys think you're doing?! You're being downright disrespectful!" A squeak escaped from Becky. Turning, Kyle couldn't help but do some gawking of his own. The blue glow was gone, as was most of Becky's buttons. Breasts that proudly proceeded her by at least 14 inches were on her chest. Delicate arms did their best to hold the new boobs together, but Becky's breathing made her new flesh quiver.
    Becky blinked loudly. The gawking crowd moved in closer. Even Rhonda had to take a better look. "What's happen to me?" Becky said, trying vainly to cover her front. She settled on covering her little nipples, but that made her look even more exposed.
    "Honey, you better sit down," Rhonda offered. "Those things must be heavy. Take a load off your back."
    "You just stay away from me!" Becky stepped back, amazed that she didn't lose her balance. "All of you, stop staring at me like I'm a freak! Look after your own boobs!"
    Kyle offered his arm, but was pushed away by Becky's chest and arms. "Becky, you're going to be all right. We just want to help."
    "Shut up, Kyle! I'm a freak! You're all a bunch of freaks!" Sobbing, Becky held her bosom together and ran out the nearest exit. Kyle ran after her, yelling out her name.
    Back in the rafters Big and Albert make their escape. "Albert, you get the Groovy Ghoulie Mobile prepped. I'll go get Miss Pipi Longstocking. Have you placed that correction in tomorrow's paper?"
    "Yes, Big. The townsfolk can't help but see that TV listing of yours."
    "Excellent. I'll turn on the homing signal once I get the girl." Big opened a ceiling panel and sqwermed out. Back in the gym the cops made the best of a weird situation. The parents of the bosomy girls had a lot of questions that Rhonda and Stacey couldn't fully answer that night.
 

10

Kyle was amazed that he lost track of Becky. He found it more amazing that his girlfriend could run with breasts the size of large pumpkins. Catching his breath, the AV genius pondered on where Becky could've made off to. She won't go home, not right away, Kyle thought, nor would she be at Otto's Truck Stop - too far away. Perhaps she's at our secret spot. With that in mind, Kyle ran to a lot on the edge of town. In one of the trees was a tree house constructed by himself and Becky. They used it as their hideout, reading issues of Popular Science and National Geographic during lazy summer afternoons. If there was any place that Becky considered safe it was the tree house.
    After a few more minutes of running Kyle reached the tree house. He noticed that the bottom door was open. I wonder how she got up there? Not to mention in there. Kyle climbed up and clambered on inside. There, in her favorite spot, was Becky. She was cradling her new bosom, crying softly. Then she saw Kyle.
    "Come to ogle me?" Becky said with vinegar. "Go home and spend some time with your Playboys."
    Kyle looked perplexed. "Playboys? What are those?"
    Becky shifted to see Kyle better, her breasts wobbling from the motion. "You're a poor liar. Last year, when you went to Bismarck with Otto to get those truck parts, I returned some magazines to your house. Your mom let me in your room so I could put them on your desk. It was then that I noticed a loose floorboard near your bed."
    "Go on," Kyle said, resigned.
    "I checked that floorboard, pulling it up. That was where I found your stash, two years worth I imagine." Becky breathed slowly, keeping her bust-quakes to a minimum. "Why did you get those Playboys? Wished I was one of those centerfolds?"
    Kyle rubbed his eyes, looking at Becky's expectant face. It was clear that she didn't want to hear lame excuses, but Kyle's reply could be construed as such. "Becky, like any growing boy I was fascinated by the female form. I wanted to learn more than was printed in the medical books, so I had Otto bring me those Playboys from his monthly trips to Bismarck."
    "Well, you no longer have to get them; you can lust after me now!" Becky sobbed, burying her face into her oversized chest.
    Kyle moved over to his friend, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Becky, you've been my friend since kindergarten. Playing all those games, building this tree house, riding bikes. It was fun. Those girls in the magazines may have the bodies of goddesses, but you're the only goddess in my life."
    "Bullshit wrapped in ribbon is still bullshit," Becky choked out. "I bet you want to take photos of me and send them to good old Hefner himself!"
    Unexpectantly, Kyle pulled Becky forward and kissed her. "Becky, your facts are wrong. I've thrown away my magazines, 'cause I don't want any distractions. You're all the attention I need."
    "Kyle..."
    The young man kiss his woman again, the contact lasting longer this time. "Though you may not think it, you're a woman in every sense of the word. You're lively, intelligent, strong..."
    "And perky?" Becky said with jest, cupping her immenseness.
    "And perky," Kyle finished with a smile. "You were broadcasting all the signals; how could I miss them?"
    Becky grabbed Kyle's shoulders and pulled him closer, kissing him strongly on the lips. "Kyle, why did I have to fall in love with a hopeless boy like you? But I can't live like this." She pushed her breasts into Kyle. "I'm a freak, but I don't want to cut them off! I want to be able to feed my own babies!"
    Kyle hugged his woman, patting her back. "We'll find a way, honey. Perhaps I can whip up a breast-reducing beam?"
    "As I said, you're hopeless," Becky crooned, holding on to Kyle with the sincerity of a lover.
    Unseen by the young couple, Mr Big poked his ninja-clad head into the treehouse. "Ah, how cute," he whispered. "Now, to get my prize. Time to release the Fu Gas!"

11

11 p.m., Saturday night. At Big's hideout there was a celebration. Albert developed the film, premiering the naughty celluloid for Big's guests. The eastern guys hooted and yelled as they watched the girls explode from their shirts. Hog Jockey and his remaining crony, Wheelie, were also yelling out their appreciation of what Big titled as the 'Big Bust Gym Dance Film'. Big was in the back, laughing and hacking. Heather and Bonnie, sporting basketball lungs, were pawing over Big.
    There was one other person in the room, and she was trying to ignore Big to the best of her ability. Becky Farber wore a new set of clothes. A pair of cut-off jeans graced her bottom while a huge white shirt half-heartedly tried to cover her front. The lower part of the shirt was tied in a knot, leaving her huge breasts partly exposed. Becky's breathing would've busted off buttons if the shirt was closed up normally.
    Big fixated his lecherous gaze on Becky's front. "Well, my dear Miss Farber, do you like your Hee-Haw cracker clothes?" The crime lord teased.
    SLAP! Becky landed a solid hit on Big's face, making his head snap back. Heather and Bonnie wanted to punish Becky for hitting Big, but the little man just waved them off. "Miss Farber! How dare you! You're wearing a shirt that use to belong to President Kennedy! Do show some respect!"
    STOMP! Becky's foot mashed into Big's toes, making him yelp in pain. "Girlie, you're wearing out your welcome!" Big spat out as he massaged his toes. "After all I done for you, giving you a chest that is, by far, one of the largest in the world."
    "I liked my body the way it was, you pervert!" Becky hissed. "Rhonda and Stacey will rip out your guts and use your hide as a seat cover!"
    "Boy, you country hicks sure have some imagination," Big giggled. "Now, why don't you give good old Biggy a kissy-kissy on the lips?" Big's sea-bass lips were treated to Becky's knuckle sandwich. BOP!
    "Otay! You asp for itph!" Big announced as he rubbed his sore lips. "You truly will look like a freak with boobs going past your knees!" Pulling out the blue crystal, Big concentrated. Becky was surrounded in the blue haze again, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Opening his eyes, Big expected to see Becky's breasts to be twice as large. To his supreme disappointment, the Farber girl's breasts were shrunk down to half of their immense size. Now she looked like she carried volleyballs instead of county fair pumpkins.
    "Great Horny Toads! That's not supposed to happen!" Big inspected the crystal, looking for an obvious flaw. He found it: the center of the crystal, essentially a scaled-down copy of the original, was missing. Checking his pockets, Big realized that the only other place where the piece could've fallen out was back in the gym. The cops would inevitably find it. Damn!
    "What's the matter, you little monster?" Becky teased, breathing a bit easier now that she could close the shirt properly. "Lost something important?"
    "Shut yer hole! Albert, take Pipi here down to the Pitt! Perhaps spending the night in a cold room will make her appreciate the situation she's in!"
    Albert bowed. "Yes, Big." Becky was hauled away, leaving Big to address his audience. "Well, now that unpleasantness is out of the way, it's time for you five to decide which girls you want."
    "Yes, about the girls. How you gonna kidnap them now?" Joey asked. "The cops and the parents will be watching them like hawks. I doubt if even your ninja skills can pick our five girls in the allotted time."
    Big placated his audience with a waving hand. "Don't you worry. I've covered my bases. I'll get those girls, recover my missing crystal piece, and take care of those two bra-busting coppers in one stroke! Now," Big raised his beer can in a toast, "let's us acknowledge my genius and our good fortune. The power of money compels us!"
    The guests raised their cans to match Big's. "The power of money compels us!"

12

At the Springbloom Police Station all was quite. Rhonda was going over a map, crossing out locations where the search teams have been. Becky was still missing. The Farbers were wracked with worry, and Kyle was burdened with his own cross, thinking that he was responsible for Becky's flight. Rhonda was feeling low herself, readying her nerve to call up her father. It was time to bring in the State Patrol. The blue crystal's power was inadvertently discovered, leaving Laura with oversized breasts. No little green men showed up to claim the rock. The black fibers were another dead end. Nauls the Tailor said that the material could've come from any shirt.
    The door opened, and Stacey walked in. She looked at the coffee pot, finding that it was empty. "Hey, Rhonda, the person that empties the pot is the one that cleans it. Hello? Are you asleep?"
    "I look that bad?" Rhonda tipped back her chair. "The first missing person case in town and we haven't found squat. Not to mention what happened to the girls. Since shit happens in threes, I'm wondering what the third act has in store."
    "That's awfully pessimistic of you." Stacey pulled up a chair. "While I'm on that subject, you didn't go to church today. Your mom truly looked sorry, even more so since she was ready to admit that you were right."
    "Stacey," Rhonda said in exasperastion, "please don't get involved. I will deal with mom my own way. In some ways, I'm just as bad as Grandpa Wilcox: too stubborn for my own good."
    "Actually, being stubborn can be a good trait, especially for a police woman," Stacey offered. "You just have to learn when not to be stubborn. You're certainly not going to deny you mother the pleasure of grandkids now, are you?"
    "Stacey! I can say the same of you!" Both friends laughed. Chief Wilcox entered just as the two finished catching their breath. "Hi, Daddy. I was just about to call you. It appears we will have to call in the big guns after all."
    Wilcox nodded. "You're right, Ronnie. Perhaps our unsophisticated small-town way of doing things isn't cutting the mustard."
    "Ooooh," Stacey giggled. "Unsophisticated. Is that your new word for today, Mr Wilcox?"
    "At least you still have a sense of humor," Wilcox grinned back. "Hey, look at the time. That 60 Minutes show is about on. Practically everyone in town will be watching." On a corner cabinet was a 12" B&W television set. Wilcox turned the set on and stepped back. The familiar stopwatch opening was shown, but the man introducing the stories certainly wasn't one of the regulars.
    "Hey, who's that old fart?" Stacey thought out-loud. "Looks like an evil Spencer Tracy."
    "Hello, folks," the wizen old man on the TV said, "I regretfully announce that 60 Minutes will not be shown tonight; in its place will be me! I'm the one responsible for inflating your girls! And, later tonight, I'll take some of those girls with me. Don't bother calling for help; all the phone lines out of town are cut, and the radios won't work."
    "Is this some sort of joke?" Wilcox said. "Is CBS trying some sort of ratings stunt?"
    "Now," the TV man said, "it's time to show the depths of my evil. I'll render all of you asleep. Don't bother to turn off your TVs and radios. My power can't be stopped!" A hideous noise spewed from the television set. Instantly Chief Wilcox fell to the floor in pain, clutching his belly.
    "Daddy!" Rhonda went to her father's side. "Fight it!"
    "Can't..." Wilcox said between grated teeth. "Feels like my spleen's exploding." Abruptly, Wilcox feel into a peaceful sleep. No amount of rousing could wake the man.
    "There, I believe my work is done," the TV man gloated. "I know for a fact that there's at least two people not affected by my power. Officers Rhonda Wilcox and Stacey Parlor, listen well. You are to bring the blue crystal to the old Patterson place in one hour. Less you think you can defy me, I'll destroy your only means of escape!" The man pressed a switch on his desk.
    A resounding boom shook the station and rattled the windows. Stacey went outside to see what had exploded. "Oh my God! The On-Ramp. He blew up the On-Ramp!"
    The TV man giggled. "Now, if that's not proof enough, here's a real incentive to follow my commands!" The camera moved, focusing on a woman that was suspended in mid-air. It was Becky.
    Rhonda was livid. "Damn you, you kidnaping bastard! Wait, I'm talking to a TV. He can't hear me!"
    "I can hear you, Officer Big Bubbles! You have one hour, or else this will happen to your precious Becky!" The man got up, walking over to the pit's edge. "Albert, where's the side of beef? How am I supposed to show my evil power?"
    A man off-camera spoke. His voice was unassuming and clear. "Sir, Wheelie was hungry, and before I could stop him he ate the meat."
    "The whole damn side of beef?" TV Man looked around, spying Wheelie sitting in a dark corner. "Wheelie, come over here. You'll be on television."
    "I like TV," Wheelie belched out. He was holding several ribs in his hands, gnawing off the last bit of meat. "Can I sing for the audience."
    TV Man was irritated, but he knew what to do. "Wheelie, stand over here, that's it. Let the camera have a good look. Now, Officers," TV Man said, grinning as Stacey and Rhonda fumed in front of the TV, "I promised you a show, and you shall have it!" The man pushed Wheelie into the pit. Moments later Wheelie screamed bloody murder, but his death cries were drowned out by high-pitched squeaking. The camera showed the spectacle, and the buxom duo nearly lost their cookies.
    TV Man laughed, coughed, and hacked. "There, you see? Failure to comply with my orders will force me to drop Becky into a pit filled with ill-tempered, flesh-eating groundsquirrels! One hour, or else Becky becomes an after-dinner snack!"
    "All right, whoever you are," Rhonda said firmly. "We'll bring your damned stone back to you. Just you don't harm a hair on Becky!"
    "Oh, my word, Ossifer. I, Mr Big, will be waiting. Ciao." The signal was cut, only angry static filled the air.
    Rhonda turned off the TV. "Damn! I guess this counts as number three. What we need is a miracle."
    The phone rang, startling the cops. "Well, I guess God has come to the rescue," Stacey said wryly, picking up the receiver. "Hello, Springbloom Police Department, Officer Stacey Parlor speaking."
    "Stacey? Thank God you're awake!" It was David, his voice a welcome relief to the beleaguered cop.
    "David! Where are you? How did you avoid being put to sleep by that madman's sound?" Stacey asked earnestly.
    "Easy. I'm at the garage. Dad's Austrian Christmas music was playing in the background on his record player. It was enough to protect us. Will and Kyle are here as well."
    "Good. Stay there. Me and Rhonda will be right over. Oh, Ronnie sends kisses." After hearing David give a reply kiss Stacey hung up the phone.
    Rhonda was waiting expectantly. "What's the plan? I doubt if that Mr Big will honor his word, considering the power he demonstrated."
    "Don't worry, Rhonda. We'll think of something. After all, we have big heads to counterbalance the boobs on our chest."
 

13

Mr Big chackled. Surrounded by his cronies, the little crime lord took in a sip of brandy. "Don't you worry, boys. I'll handle those blue belles personally. You'll get your girls tonight with no problems whatsoever."
    "Rhonda and Stacey will rescue me, you pervert!" Becky yelled at Big's back. Hanging over the pit, the red-haired girl still had some fight in her. "Your nefarious scheme will fail!"
    Big looked quizzically at the endowed girl. "Becky, why is it that every girl in peril must say that the villain will fail? You've been watching too much TV! You'll see first-hand that good will be humbled by evil! Albert!"
    Big's assistant looked up from his panel. "Yes, Big?"
    Producing a cigar and striking a match, Big lit his stogie and took a long draw. "Albert, keep a watch for the cops. Inform me the instant they appear on the monitors."
    "Yes, Big."

14

"Welcome, Officers!" Mr Big gloated. The buxom duo had slid down a pair of entry chutes and landed on a set of mattresses. Getting up slowly, the duo saw the group of armed men standing behind Mr Big. The shotguns and pistols the men wielded made them look like mob thugs. "Now, let's get this over with. Hand me that blue crystal and I'll release Becky totally unharmed."
    Rhonda looked at the ceiling. Becky was still there, gag firmly in place. Nevertheless, the suspended girl was happy that the cops were there. Opening her shirt pocket, Rhonda reached inside. The watching men drooled as Rhonda fished for the crystal. The sight of a top-heavy woman trying to get something out of her shirt pocket was worth the saliva stains.
    Big had seen this before; Rhonda and Stacey's relatives did the groping routine to him back in '65 in Las Vegas. "That's enough of that, Wilcox. I'm not distracted that easily."
    Defeated, Rhonda pulled out her hand, opening it to expose the crystal. That got Big's attention. "Now, hand it over, slowly." Rhonda took deliberate steps, holding the crystal by the tips of her fingers. Big snatched it, turning it over with his fingers. "Good. Now I can go around the world, endowing less-blessed women with beautiful lungs."
    "That's a laugh," Stacey spat out. "Seeing what you did to Becky last night, I can only pray that the brassiere makers can ramp-up production once you go on your boob-blowing campaign."
    "Shut yer trap, Bubbles," Big sneered. "For that remark, I'll restore Becky to her previous dimensions. I hope the rope can handle the increased weight." Evil glee present, Big placed the small crystal back into its larger sibling. Becky was anxious, imploring Rhonda and Stacey with her eyes. The duo couldn't do anything; Big's armed flunkies had them to rights. Concentrating, Big held up the crystal. Becky closed her eyes, waiting for her breasts to bust out of the T-shirt.
    A sharp crack startled everyone. Big opened his eyes, his face in horror as he saw his crystal fracture. There was another resounding crack, and the crystal disintegrated into fine particles. "Damn! What the Hell happened?"
    "Oh, soooo sorry, Mr Big-O," Rhonda said in mock Chinese. "You see, I gave you a piece of glass instead of the real McCoy. You'll only get the enlarging crystal once Becky is set free. Release her, now!"
    "Don't order me, Wilcox!" Big roared. "I'll find that crystal if I have to turn over every stone in Springbloom. Now it's time to feed Becky to the groundsquirrels!"
    "Mr Big," Albert announced from his panel, "you may want to look at this. A vehicle has penetrated the outer security zone."
    "What? Show me." Big took a look for himself, the TV monitor flickering momentarily. "What the Hell? That's one strange vehicle. Guess we now know what came out of Thunderbird 2's pod this week! Albert, activate the defenses! Use everything!"
    Albert looked embarrassed. "Um, Big, about the defenses. Some sacrifices had to be made to keep the groundsquirrels fed."
    "Sacrifices?" Big stated. "Does that mean no killer yaks?"
    "No yaks," replied a deadpan Albert.
    "No Albertan Death Moose?"
    "No, he went on Friday."
    "No woodchucks?"
    "No woodchucks. They went yesterday."
    "No Outer Mongolian Desert Weasels?"
    "That was this afternoon, Big."
    "Damn groundsquirrels!" Big fumed. "They cost me my prized Outer Mongolian Desert Weasels! No other varmints were as vicious as they were!" Big pondered for only a moment. "Ah Hell! Albert, let's do what we always do - release the Boiler Android Troopers. Heck, throw in the Killer White Beachball of Death. I want to get the most from my investment."
    "As you command, Big." Albert manipulated some controls. The monitor changed focus, settling on the dilapidated barn. The rusty-hinged doors opened, and out stepped dorky-looking robots that were used in '30s serials. The only difference was that the weapons the BATs carried were real. The surface of the duck pond roiled with bubbles. A beachball-sized white sphere emerged, bouncing across the field towards the vehicle.
    "Yes, my BATs. Destroy the intruder vehicle. Smite it with your power." Big looked back at the buxom duo. "Yes, my robots are the most sophisticated killing machines ever created by my genius. If only Dr Huu used my BATs instead of making that silly giant mechanical gorilla. But nooooooo; he had to get himself killed, leaving me the job of retrieving Mineral X."
    "Your insipid toys are no match for red-blooded American males," Rhonda boasted. "Our beaus will rescue us and put an end to your inflation fantasy."
    "Oh, spare me!" Big exclaimed. "Oh, almost forgot! Take off your clothes! I bet you have hidden weapons between your boobies. You might even have the crystal on your person! Strip, or I'll have my associates do the work."
    "Pervert! You'll pay for this!" Rhonda and Stacey, with slow and deliberate motion, began to work on their police uniforms. The flunkies were utterly mezmerized. Except Hog Jockey. Seeing what happened to his friends, HJ was determined not to fail Big.
    "Ah, Big," Albert said, "that funny-looking vehicle is about to be engaged by the Killer White Beachball of Death."

15

"Albert! Where the blue blazes did that... that... thing come from?!" Big fumed, watching the monitor as his BAT army was being decimated.
    "Can't say I know, Big. Somehow it never got mentioned near our hidden microphones in town." Albert worked diligently on his control panel, trying to maneuver his BATs to engage the armored car effectively. So far the six-wheeled death machine had vinced 20 robots and showed no signs of slowing down.
    Big turned, his steel gaze set upon the two cops. "Well, what are you waiting for? I told you two to strip! Or do you want to be filled with buckshot?"
    Rhonda and Stacey had only removed their belts and holsters. With deliberate sensuality, the duo undid their buttons and unzipped their pants. Big turned back to the control panel; his associates were all but drooling as they watched the inadvertent strip show.
    Sensuously, Rhonda let her shirt slip to the floor. Her capable bra held her charges with the care of a lover. Stacey lowered her pants with the slowness of a stripper. Her pink panty was in sharp contrast to the badge she wore on her shirt. Then it was Rhonda's turn to remove her pants. Her panty was a lacy black piece of nothing, coverage of her behind was practically nonexistent. The men watching all this were getting anxious, especially when Stacey took off her shirt. Basketball breasts barely contained in a lacy bra were prominent on Stacey's lithe frame.
    The men were thinking of the same thing. They were wishing that they had the two cops as part of their shows back east. 'See the biggest guns on stage' was the typical thought for this group of gawkers, but Hog Jockey was contemplating something else. Gee, the tall one wears the same undies I do, he mused.
    The buxom duo were now teasing their bras and panty straps. Rhonda gave a sly wink, making the men moan. Stacey gave the impression that she was about to remove her panties, squatting down to give the men a commanding view of her cleavage. Then...
    SHOE IN FACE! With lightning swiftness, Stacey's left leg shot forward, her loose shoe flying with force. The man hit by the shoe lost his balance and fell backwards... into the groundsquirrel pit. The gawking men barely had time to register that event when Rhonda kicked off her shoes with equal force. The two affected men dropped their guns, holding their heads in pain. The buxom duo then rushed the remaining two, using their chests as rams. Both men fell backwards in bliss, but that moment was gone all too quickly. The groundsquirrels ate them.
    "Fuddleducks!" Big yelled. "Hog Jockey, shoot them!"
    The big biker leveled his shotgun, but his resolve was tested by the sight of breasts being tenuously held by straining bras. Rhonda picked up a gun and started shooting, making the biker grab ground. Hog then rolled toward the entry chutes. Meanwhile, Stacey retrieved a shotgun and aimed right at Big. "Okay, you prune-faced bastard! Let Becky go or I'll fill you with lead!"
    "No way, girlie! I have my hand on the switch. One quick turn and she's history!" Big giggled. "Joey, Andy, grab her!"
    Big's two remaining business associates rushed Stacey, yanking the gun out of her hand. She responded by grabbing one of the men, throwing him bodily at Big. He dodged, but the man landed firmly on the control desk, messing up some controls. Next, Stacey used her bust as a ram, pushing her next victim down hard. He fell backwards, hitting his head on an edge of the control desk.
    Outside, on the porch, Gut was sitting on one of the trap doors, growling menacingly at the fake owl. Just then the doors opened, dropping the dachshund into the chute. Like Rhonda and Stacey, Gut exited into the basement. By this time Hog Jockey stood up, failing to realize that the entry chutes were behind him. Gut came down and out the chute, knocking down the biker hard to the floor.
    Rhonda boldly picked up Hog Jockey, landing a solid blow on his chin. He just smiled, his return punch knocking down Rhonda. Then, just as Hog was about to stomp on Rhonda's neck, the big biker was set upon by Gut. The 30-pound ball of terror chomped hard on Hog's ankle. Every effort to work Gut off just resulted in him biting harder. Rhonda got back up and landed punch after punch against Hog. The biker, beset by woman and beast, tried to escape. He tripped, falling forward into the pit... taking Gut with him.
    Big laughed, coughed, and hacked. "Well, Ossifer, looks like you lose. I think my groundsquirrels will still have room for Becky. Say bye-bye!"
    "NO!" Rhonda picked up a shotgun and empty both barrels into Big. The little man and his associate should've been dead; they were still very much alive. Big was a little put-off.
    "Damn you, girl! This was one of my bestest shirts." Without ceremony Big turned a switch. The rope holding Becky up was freed, the teenage girl falling into the pit. "She'll be stripped to the bone in 10 seconds flat."
    Rhonda's face was filled with hate. "The infernal furnace will work overtime charring your ass, Big. I guess you won't be needing this down there." In a deft move, Rhonda reached between her breasts, retrieving the small blue crystal. She dropped to her knees, placing the crystal before her. With shotgun in hand, Rhonda summoned her strength.
    Big's heart leapt out, seeing that his crystal was about to be destroyed. "No! Stop! I beg of you!" His plea fell on deaf ears. The butt of Rhonda's shotgun fell on the crystal, shattering it. The floor around Rhonda's knees was covered by fine blue crystal particles.
    "Well, so much for my grand scheme," Big lamented, "but I will live to see another day. Albert! Set the self-destruct! Let's vamoose!"
    "Yes, Big." Albert press a blue button on his control panel. A warning klaxon came on, its wail loud and insistent. "Three minutes to self-destruct. The escape vehicle is primed."
    "Excellent, Albert. Grab Joey and haul ass." Big grinned as a secret door opened up behind him. Stacey and Rhonda were certain they could stop the little man, but he produced a gun of his own. "Unlike me, you buxom belles are mortal. I suggest you save your own skins. Tootles!" Big walked backwards, dragging the unconscious form of Andy with one hand. The secret door closed after the little man, leaving the duo to their lonesome.
    "Damn him and his squirrels!" Stacey said. "Becky's dead because of him!"
    "I'm not dead yet!" Both women were startled when they heard Becky's voice coming from the pit. They went to the pit's edge, surprized when they saw Becky, and Gut, in one piece. Admits the jumble of bones were groundsquirrels - dead groundsquirrels. "If you're finished gawking can you pull me out?"
    "Can we ever," beamed Rhonda. Gut was the first one out, licking Rhonda on the face. Becky was drawn up next, clearly relieved to be free from the terrible pit.
    "How did you survive?" Stacey asked, fishing up the police shirts from the floor. Rhonda and Stacey hastily put them on, ascending the staircase with Becky and Gut.
    Becky beamed, clutching Gut to her chest. "This little rat saved me. Groundsquirrels are deathly afraid of Dachshunds. Gut went through them like a hot knife through butter."
    "Remind me to bring him to Stacey's place. There's a really big rat running loose there." Rhonda avoided Stacey's reply, namely her fists.
    "Shut up, you." Stacey teased. The group reached the ground floor and found the front door. They skirted past the trap doors on the porch, making for the police truck. "Becky, since you still have shoes, you drive the truck. Me and Rhonda will blast any of those walking boilers that get near."
    "Gotcha!" While Becky settled in the driver's seat, Stacey pulled out guns from the gun rack, handing a rifle to Rhonda. Stacey chose a shotgun, placing spare shells in her cleavage. Rhonda settled in the truck's cargo bed, spare rifle ammo boxes around her. Becky started the truck and mashed down on the accelerator. Several walking boilers where ahead of the truck, blazing away with submachine guns and grenade launchers.
    "Keep moving!" Stacey yelled, leveling her shotgun out the window. It was unnecessary. The Mystery Machine ran over the quartet of BATs, mashing them flat. There was only a slight bump as the truck ran over the remains. One final BAT speed buggy made an appearance, intent on ramming the truck. Otto pushed metal, making his machine an immovable force as he aimed right for the comical vehicle. The two BATs manning the vehicle were utterly destroyed, their remains scattered to the four winds.
    It was then that the Patterson place blew up. Three distinct explosions rocked the house and barn. Then a fire blazed to life, consuming the wooden structures. Both police truck and Mystery Machine came to a stop, the occupants getting out to watch the fire.
    There was another loud noise, followed by a dull roar. The grain silo... it was rising! Like a bad special effect, the impromptu rocket went higher and higher into the air. Exhaust from the rockets obscured the fire only briefly, the prevailing winds blowing the smoke to the southeast towards town.
    "That's something you don't see everyday," Rhonda said nonchalantly. She then noticed David staring at her naked legs. "Geesh, David. Take a picture; it'll last longer."
    "If I had a camera, that's exactly what I would be doing right now." David then gave his woman a hug and kiss. "You must've done a number on that Big fella. You destroyed his lair and made him run away empty-handed."
    Rhonda pouted, kissing David on the cheek. "But that pervert got away. He should be locked-up back at the station. At least he won't be inflating any more breasts. I've destroyed that crystal."
    "I don't know. Perhaps a few more inches on your chest isn't such a bad idea!" David gladly accepted Rhonda's playful, disapproving look. The couple hugged and kissed again.
    On the Mystery Machine's turret roof Will looked at the burning buildings in the distance. Stacey got up next to her beau, placing her hand on his shoulder. "So, how did this rate to the stuff you saw in Nam?"
    "Color me crazy," Will said as he took Stacey's hand into his own, "but Nam was way more real. Blowing up walking boilers armed with guns? Who'll believe that?" Like any red-blooded American man, Will pulled Stacey down, their lips meeting in a kiss.
    Kyle and Becky were sharing a tender moment too. Leaning back on the Mystery's hull, Kyle lovingly embraced his woman. "Did that horrible man touch you? Too bad we couldn't put a shell in his forehead."
    "He tried," Becky said between kisses, "but I put him in his place. Instead of that wicked man, I'll be haunted by nightmares about men being eaten by groundsquirrels."
    Pushing Becky back so he could see her clearly, Kyle admired his woman's form. Then he saw the rip in Becky's T-shirt, getting a good view of her still-impressive flesh. "Those nightmares will pass in time. At least you won't worry about being suffocated by your breasts. Those volleyballs are right pretty!"
    "Kyle! You lech!" Becky hugged Kyle hard, her lungs pressed up against his chest. "Just what am I going to do with you?"
    Happiness and Joy was in the air, but Jerry Cooper didn't registered that. All he saw was smooching. Otto sensed Jerry's discomfort, so he went over to him, carrying Gut under one arm. "Vhat is it, Jerry? These fine young people are entitled to some love and kisses, Ja? They went through a very exciting time."
    Jerry looked normal, that is to say he was being a sour apple. "I know, dang blast it! But they're smooching, and where there's smooching funny stuff isn't far behind!"
    "Jerry, you vorry too much." Otto lifted Gut up to face-level, allowing the walking stomach to lick off Jerry's face. "Perhaps Gut can remove that sour face of yours, Ja?"
    "Ja yourself, you kraut!" Jerry bit off, trying to fend off the affectionate little dog.
    Otto allowed the smooch-fest to continue for another minute. "Now it's time to got back to town," he announced. "You can, what is the phrase, 'go get a room'? Ja, that's it! Go get a room!"
 

16

The town of Springbloom quickly placed the events of that weird weekend behind it. The townsfolk all regained consciousnous Monday morning. The only other people not affected by Big's broadcast were Laura and Jimmy. They spent the better part of 16 hours in their bedroom, with Jimmy appreciating Laura's 'new size'. It was a good thing that Jimmy was the manager of the Roads Department station in town; Laura got pregnant, and two years later it happened again, and again, and again. It took some doing, but the happy couple agreed not to have any more children. Jimmy, though, had to build a new house to contain his ample family.
    Carla Wilcox made her peace with Rhonda and Otto. She also approved of Rhonda and David's engagement. Stacey and Will also made their engagement known; both couples got married the next summer. The buxom duo had their children, enjoying the bounty that life bestowed upon their families. With their badges still shining proudly on their pronounced chests, Rhonda and Stacey kept the peace in Springbloom for a long, long time.
    Becky adjusted to her new chest, accepting the six pounds of flesh that graced her twiggy body. In two months she gained 10 additional pounds, and it was in all the right places (wink). Kyle's love for his woman was matched by Becky's endearment to her man. The two got engaged at Christmas. Their marriage had to wait until they graduated from college; Kyle became a electrical engineer, eventually owning his own electronics store. Becky earned a degree in general-practice medicine, and worked in a Fargo hospital for ten years. Becky and Kyle moved back to Springbloom in 1990. Doc Becker retired, passing the reins on to Becky. The workload in town was light, allowing the couple to raise two children of their own.
    Otto and Jerry disposed the weapons used on the Mystery Machine. They converted the radical vehicle into a county fair attraction and ride. Sadly, the Mystery Machine was totaled when a tornado ripped through the fairgrounds in 1979. That just gave Otto an excuse to create an even better vehicle (wink).
    That left the matter of the 22 girls with their volleyball-sized breasts. The parents were of the opinion that they should send their daughters to all-women schools or to the nearest convent. Rhonda and Stacey didn't want that to happen, so they gave the parents another option. The girls, under the tutorship of the buxom duo, were taught to live with, even appreciate, their new breasts. For two months, the girls were made to exercise, building up muscles and endurance to handle their new charges. All the boys in high school were made to exercise with them. This served the purpose of getting the boys conditioned to the fact that the girls had breasts. After two months the boys were no longer fazed by the fact that their girlfriends were rather well-endowed. The buxom duo also taught the girls not to misuse their new fronts, but to enjoy their 'new health' in a responsible manner. The Christmas Dance that year featured a lively session of Twister. Strange that all the girls managed to fall on top of their boyfriends at the end of each game. The boys didn't think it was that strange (wink).
    That left the mysterious Mr Big. After inflicting his perversion on the town the twisted little man was never seen again. The only other major bit of excitement occurred when a wicked Wal-Mart executive tried to destroy Springbloom's business district. Rhonda and Stacey were on to him, and with use of Mystery Machine 2 the duo destroyed the Wal-Mart and ran the man's sorry butt outta town. But that's another story.

[Meanwhile, somewhere on the Moon...]

Big took a long draw from his cigar, exhaling smoke like a dragon. With him in the moon base's rec room were Andy, Joey, and Albert. Heather and Bonnie were their too, but their clothes were a little unusual. Both basketball-breasted women wore form-fitting silver bodysuits. This alone would've made them sexy, but the women also had purple wigs, giving them an exotic air. Before the women was a box filled with diamonds. Shiny, exquisitely-cut stones were being fondled like so many marbles.
    "Oh, Biggy, they're wonderful!" Heather lifted up a handful of diamonds, letting them slip through her fingers.
    "That they are, my lovely! It was astounding! Imagine, finding a satellite lined with diamonds, waiting for the first person to come along and take it!" Big took another draw from his cigar. "It would've been a waste letting that satellite stay there. Eventually, it would've burned up in the atmosphere. Fine compensation for the loss of all those girls."
    "I'd say," Andy grumbled. "I'll use my diamond money and search for my own girls."
    "Andy, be thankful that you're here safe with me. You too, Joey. Tomorrow, we go back to Earth, but first..." Big pressed a button. The rec room door opened, and in stepped four silver-suited, purple-haired women. Like Heather and Bonnie, these four lovlies had ample chests and sexy forms. "Girls, if it's not an inconvenience, please avail yourselves to these gentlemen. Show them your 'considerable' hospitality."
    "That we will, Mr Big," said a dark-skinned honey. "There's no Ufo activity at the moment, and we're do for a rest anyway."
    "Yes, speaking of rest," Big pronounced as he stood up, "I'll need a vigorous massage to prepare for tonight's bedroom gymnastics. Heather and Bonnie, are you two up to it?"
    "Oh, Biggy!" The girls giggled, lavishing their affection on the little man, escorting him out of the rec room. (bumper music)
 

[Epilogue]

"That sounded like a typical happy ending for you, Sylvester," June chided. In her arms was David. The little tot was sent from person to person during the story, enjoying the attention he got from everyone.
    Sylvester laughed. "Why not, little lady? A supercriminal deserves the occasional down-time. After that caper I passed myself off as a trucker. With Alberto posing as my partner, I did one of my favorite crime specialties - cattle rustling!"
    "It wasn't all that much fun for me, as I recall," Alberto added. "I smelt like cow poop for days on end."
    "Ah," Sylvester chimed in, "but think of all the money we earned, and all those truck-stop waitresses we seduced."
    "Speaking of seduced," Felicity said as she dragged Sylvester up by his arm, "I best take Uncle Silly away before he spins another epic yarn of crime and oversized breasts. Time to make our goodbyes."
    "Not before I give the little tyke a handshake." Sylvester went over to David, extending a forefinger. "Now, give your uncle a good-bye shake, you rugrat."
    David grasped Sylvester's finger. The baby then squeezed real hard, making the old man wince in pain. "Ouch!" Uncle Silly withdrew his finger, the abuse appendage throbbing comically. "Amber, you got yourself a regular Bamm-Bamm there."
    "Bamm-Bamm?" Amber questioned.
    "Never mind. Way before your time, dear." Sylvester gave Amber and the other women good-bye hugs. Felicity gave her fairwells, leaving Faith for last, kissing the baby on the forehead.
    "Felly, are you still available to babysit for us next week?" Alberto asked, retrieving Faith from Alysa's hold.
    "Of course, but remember to send over more milk. Faith sometimes thinks I'm her mother. I'm healthy, but not that healthy." Felicty winked at the now blushing Alberto and Alysa.
    It was Sylvester's turn to drag Felly by the arm. "And you're the one that keeps saying that you can't take me anywhere." The inseperable couple donned their coats. "For a 97-year-old-lady you're still ornery, Felly."
    "I've learned from the best," Felly said after kissing Sylvester. "And I have to be, since we're going to be hitched."
    BLINK-BLINK. Lynnae looked askance at Felly. "Grandma, you hiding something from me?"
    "Lyn, I can never hide stuff from you. My heart belongs to Sylvester, and we're going to make it official."
    "Offical?" Lynnae said, both happy and surprized. "Does that mean..."
    Practically bursting, Sylvester held Felly close. "Yes, you wiley girl. Next month I'll be your new grandfather."
    "I was wondering when you two would follow through." Lyn hugged her grandma and future grandfather. "Let me be the first to say congratulations, but I have a question. What gift can you give to a 913-year-old man?"
    "I'm sure you'll think of something, Lyn. You always do." Sylvester said.
 
 

END

24

Thanks to Input Jack (the Area 69 artist at the BEA) for providing the Rhonda and Stacey pic. Thanks for Gunbuster also for his coloring job.