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“Get ready to move,” he continued. “We're going in!”

The security guards on the scene glanced at each other, unsure of what to do or say.

“Well? Don't just stand there like idiots! Get a move on!”

“Sir,” one of the guards eventually said. “Don't you think we should wait for the police?”

“Forget the police,” another guard mumbled to the one next to him, “we'd be better off calling in the army.”

The security head could not believe his ears. “Are you deaf, man? They are dying in there! We don't have time to wait! It's high time you really earned your paychecks, boys.”

“But, sir, it's Mallet Girl.”

“M-M-Mallet Girl!?” The man nearly fainted at the mention of her name. He had dealt with her before, back when he was still the president and owner of his own corporation. That had been a pure and unadulterated disaster and it was only because of his father-in-law's connections that he managed to get appointed to the prestigious position of head of security of all of Studiotown.

“Mallet Girl, you say? Aherm-herm! Uh, yes, of course. Quite right, we should wait for the cops to show up and let them handle this mess. Quite right. Good call there, Johnson. Carry on, men. Carry on!”

And with that, the poor man retreated to the relative safety of his car. He legs couldn't carry him fast enough. He wasted no time in driving back to his house. With that mallet-wielding calamity on steroids around, he was not about to take any chances. He quickly packed his clothes and hurried off to the airport. He can only hope that it wasn't too late already and that he can get enough distance between him and Studiotown before the proverbial shit hit the ceiling fan. Such was the state of mind he was in that he completely forgot all about his wife and children.

Meanwhile back inside Building 85, Mallet Girl was just about done. She had long since lost track of the time but it no longer mattered. She was just having too much fun. Why, she hadn't enjoyed herself this much since kindergarten. Yep, that day a couple of weeks ago sure was a hoot! Too bad Aunt Mitzy swore she'll never let little Mel take her to school for Show & Tell ever again.

Only two of the Nerds were still standing, still conscious and relatively unhurt, that is. Mallet Girl had chased them back to the stage and had cornered one of them by the five-tiered dais. She was just about to give the poor, cringing, gibbering fellow one more whack with a heavy rubber mallet when her eyes alit upon the words written on the Nerd's sash.

She paused.

“Hentai Nerd?” she murmured to herself. “Hentai Nerd...Hentai...” She pursed her lips in deep thought even as she tapped her chin with the mallet absentmindedly. “Hhhmmm...hentai...? Now where have I heard that word before? Wait...”

Her eyes widened as the realization slowly sunk through her thick skull and into her mallet-obsessed brain. She stared at her mallet and then at the Hentai Nerd and then back at the mallet.

The Hentai Nerd was a short and portly youth, no older than sixteen years of age. Bucktoothed, with small beady eyes hidden behind large, half-inch-thick prescription glasses, his black hair cropped short the shape of a rice bowl.

“Eeewww!” Mallet Girl cried out in utter disgust and dismay, letting go of her once precious rubber mallet as though it had been tainted with deadly plague. Or worse, cooties. “Gross! I can't believe I touched it with my mallet! Oh, my poor rubber mallet! It was custom-made!”

She pointed at the Hentai Nerd with a trembling finger. “Why you-you...you... Aahhh!” She pulled at her hair in frustration. “No fair! I'm not touching that!”

And so the Hentai Nerd looked quite relieved indeed. He had always known this particular hobby of his was going to save his life one day. He wiped the snot dripping from his nose with the back of his hand. “Oh, thank goodnesh!” he lisped.

But the young man's elation was short-lived. He watched in horror as Mallet Girl took hold of the five-tiered dais and proceeded to lift it off the floor. The dais, though made of mere wood and nails, was large and sturdy enough to hold twenty people. It was as heavy as a small car but even then the dais, creaking and groaning, began to rise slowly and with one final heave, she pushed it over her head.

“Hah!” she cried out triumphantly.

“Wait!” the Hentai Nerd shouted desperately. “You shaid you weren't going to toush me!”

“Well, duh!” Mallet Girl replied. “Fists and mallets are too precious to waste on the likes of you. This is more than good enough!”

“Waaaaahhhhh!” the Hentai Nerd screeched in terror, shielding his face with his arms as the wooden structure descended down upon him.

“Die-die-die-die-die!” Mallet Girl went, repeatedly slamming the five-tiered dais down upon the poor, wretched fellow.

“Oh, the pain! The agony!” the Hentai Nerd screamed. “Mashter Happy, make it shtop! Oh, make it shtop!”

Mallet Girl screamed as well. “Aaahhh, die already! Why won't you die!?”

“Aaaiiieeee!”

“Graaaahhhhh!”

Eventually though the poor boy did moving and he made no more sounds.

Mallet Girl was out of breath. That had used up more energy that she would have cared to admit but it was all well worth the effort, she thought. Suffer not the hentai to live as the old saying went. Or at least as she remembered it.