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“Thank you, Jenna,” Chibi Mallet Girl said then. “I'm sure our viewers appreciate your sparing us some time from your busy schedule.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Jenna replied. “I'm getting overtime for this, right?”

Without batting an eye, Chibi Mallet Girl continued speaking. “And here we have Steven, Mallet Girl's go-to-guy for all her mallet needs. He's in charge of Mallet Girl's mallet warehouse and always seems to know what mallets Mallet Girl will be needing each day. He's a genius, they say, on of those idiotic servants, or something like that.”

The scene in the television screen then switched to the fruits and vegetable section of a supermarket. A short, pudgy man was standing in front of the vegetable bins, wearing a white apron and a rectangular bull cap with a scarf hanging from the back. He was holding a wooden mallet horizontally with both hands and was grinning from ear to ear as though something good was about to happen.

“Hey, Steven! What up?”

Suddenly, an old-fashioned alarm clock went off, filling the air with it's loud, obnoxious ringing.

“Whoops!” Chibi Mallet Girl cried. “Looks like that's all the time we have, folks!” She waved her hand goodbye. “Tune in again next time! Same mallet channel! Same mallet time!”

“Dashiiiiii!” Uber Chibi Mallet Girl screeched.

As everything in the screen began to fade away, a red, circular window appeared in the lower right corner. Alias Uno popped out of the window.

“Hey!” he protested. “I thought we were gonna talk about me next!”

“Sweetie-kins!!!” Chibi Mallet Girl screamed as she leaped and lunged towards the love of her life.

The old television set turned off and that was that.

CHAPTER TWO

Hello! It is I, the narrator! Yes! There is a narrator now and that is I. Things have become quite profitable around here lately and the higher ups have decided to jazz up the show with more pizzazz, more action, more special effects, and—ahem-ahem!--yours truly. Hee-hee! I am beside myself with glee. At long last, I am gainfully employed and in Mallet Girl's show at that! I am financially viable!

Mu-ha-ha-ha-ha! Never again will I have to face my colleagues in shame. Never again can those stuck-up snobs look down on me and snicker behind my back. They said I would never amount to anything. Well, look who's laughing now! Mu-ha-ha-ha-ha-ack! Cough! Cough! Cough! Uhurm...I mean, on with the show!

Mallet Girl, bounty hunter extraordinaire and one cute chick, is on the trail of Gazpacho of the Andes, the notorious molester of little girls and kidnapper of horses. Or is it the other way around? Mallet Girl could never remember.

Huh? Hey? What are you doing here? We're on the air for cryin' out loud! What's this? Aaahhh, no! My walking papers!? I'm fired? But, but, but I was just hired this morning! How can I be fired already? Nooooo! My plans! I had plans! I'll never be able to move out of my mom's basement at this rate!

Wait, who are you guys? Security? Who the heck called security? Aaahhh, no! Don't come any closer! I have a mike! Don't make me use this! Aaahhh, let go! Let go! Noooooooooo!!!

“So there's this guy, see,” Mallet girl was saying. “Pistachio or something. He's from the Andes, I think. Have you seen him around here? He's like a really bad dude. Wicked and perverted and all icky and stuff. He particularly likes to molest little girls and kidnap horses. Wait. Or was it the other way around? He likes to kidnap little girls and molest horses? Aaahhh, I keep forgetting! Wait, what am I doing? I have a picture! Duh!”

She lifted up her hand to show the photograph she had been holding. “Yeah, this guy! So have you seen this guy around here?”

She waited for an answer but there was none coming.

“Well?”

Still the she was answered with silence.

Mallet Girl frowned. “Oh, giving me the silent treatment, are you? Why, you! Ooh, I bet you're in cahoots with that guy! He's paid you off to keep your mouth shut. That's it, isn't it? Hah! You don't know who you're dealing with, buster. I have ways of making you talk.”

Slowly, she reached for one of the mallets hanging at her back.

Alias Uno sighed, resigned to spending yet another of those trying afternoons with Mallet Girl. He was really regretting coming in for work this morning. Call in sick, his gut had told him, but did he listen? No, of course not. He shook his head slowly and sighed again. “Mallet Girl,” he said.

Just like Mallet Girl, Alias Uno was garbed in his usual work clothes. He was dressed all in dark, charcoal grey from his turtleneck sweater with the extra-long collar to his cargo pants and his heavy, metal-clad, steel-toed leather boots. The black canvas belt with the velcro purses was still strapped across his chest and two similar belts were loosely hanging around his waist.

“Mallet Girl,” he said again.

“What?” Mallet Girl cried, frowning at him. “I'm trying to work here.”

“You're talking to a statue. That's the Jolly the Bug Honey Burger mascot. You were here when they unveiled it last month, remember?”

Mallet Girl paused. “Well...well, that's no excuse! I mean, talk about rude, man. I'm Mallet Girl. The Mallet Girl! When I ask a question, I expect to be answered!” She smacked the back of her right hand against her left palm to stress the point.

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“Huh? Oh, boy! A fan letter!” she shrieked excitedly and she hurriedly ripped open the envelop. She took out the letter and proceeded to read it. “WHAAAATTTT!!!??? Oh, no! We're being sued by ONION! The Organized Nerds Internationale – Order of Nigel! I don't know who this Nigel is but his Order must be good at this sort of stuff. It even has its own letterhead and logo! What are we going to do now!? Waaaaaahhhhh!!!!!”

Chibi Mallet Girl began to bawl like a snotty, little kid, copious amounts of tears flying into the air, a veritable fountain of salty despair.

But her outburst was over quicker than it had started and she was instantly back to perky, cheerful self. “Ah, well,” she said, tossing the letter aside. “We'll let Mallet Girl handle this sort of stuff. I'm pretty sure she'll have no problems whatsoever dealing with ONION using her feminine wiles and charms. They'll be like putty in her hands. Wink-wink!”

Cupping an ear with her right hand, she then exclaimed, “Oh, say! Do you hear that? I think somebody's coming. Why, if it isn't Uber Chibi Mally!”

She reached behind her with her left hand and whipped out a small Mallet Girl hand puppet.

“Natto-natto-natto!” the hand puppet went.

“Hallo, Uber Chibi Mally! How's it going?”

“Katsudon!” came the quick and lively reply. “Pecan peach pie sugar. Mango cheese tofu tea salad.”

Chibi Mallet Girl nodded in response. “Very interesting, Uber Chibi Mally. Speaking of interesting, that was quite the interesting chapter we just had, wouldn't you say?”

“Uh...” Uber Chibi Mallet Girl paused and slowly turned to look up at her. “.....banana?”

“Oh, of course, it was!” Chibi Mallet Girl said. “Weren't you watching? It was so interesting I was simply rivetted! And action-packed, too! Mallet Girl sure went to town on those Nerds.”

“Ham-ham-ham-ham-ham!” Uber Chibi Mallet Girl chuckled.

“Oh, those poor, poor Nerds! I mean, she really stomped them good.” Chibi Mallet Girl sighed. “Ah, well. As Grampa Jenkins always used to say, there's more where they came from! Hah! And now that we've gotten one chapter down, I thought it only appropriate to introduce and talk about the cast. The Mallet Girl Family!”

“Wasabiiii!” Uber Chibi Mallet Girl exclaimed very excitedly, waving side to side with arms outstretched.

“Yes! The Mallet Girl Family! All of you guys out there are, of course, already quite familiar with who Mallet Girl is. She's the main character and star of this show after all. And you've gotten a quick look five of her friends: Jenna, Mark, George, Danielle, and Roseanne.”

“But, you know,” Chibi Mallet Girl continued, “there are many more members in the Mallet Girl Family. Let's see...there's Grampa Jenkins, of course, who's al Gramma Jenkins on occasion but we're not supposed to talk about that. Oops. And then there's Sheila, the boobsy girl waitress. And Pappy, the Papaya-Rama-Lama Llama. And Cousin Larry. And his distant relative Cousin Balky. And Alby, the albino hobo who lives in that old telephone booth across the street. And then there's Jeremy the Modem Kid. Foul Boy McCoy. And Mallet Mutt. Oh, and let us not forget Alias Uno, Mallet Girl's trusty sidekick. What a hunk! He's definitely my favorite.”

Chibi Mallet Girl reached behind her with her free hand and whipped out a framed photograph of Alias Uno. “See? Ain't he a cutie?”

As could be seen in the photograph, Alias Uno was a green-eyed man in his late twenties. He was possessed of a slim but muscular built and spiky, dirty blond hair. He had on dark, round aviator goggles, which he had pulled up to his forehead. His dark, charcoal grey turtleneck sweater had an extra-long collar that covered the lower half of his face, from the tip of the nose down. A black canvas belt of velco purses strapped over his shoulder and across his chest completed his ensemble.

“Choco raisin brussel sprouts!” cooed Uber Chibi Mallet Girl.

Chibi Mallet Girl couldn't help it any longer and proceeded to shower the photograph with sweet, wet kisses. But she quickly caught herself.

“Whoopsy! Heh-heh-heh.” She grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that!”

She then coughed and cleared her throat in an attempt to regain what modicum of composure she could. “Ahem. We'll have more on sweetie-kins in a moment. But first, I'd like to talk about Jenna. Say hello to the viewers, Jenna!”

The scene then panned to the right to reveal Jenna seated on a tall bar stool. She was still decked all in black, from her long overcoat to her red-trimmed corset all the way down to her combat boots. She was puffing on a lit black stick of cigarette. Leaving the cigarette in her mouth, she flicked her hand in greeting. “Yo!” she said.

“Now Jenna here,” Chibi Mallet Girl stated, “is not only Mallet Girl's childhood friend but her business partner as well. Jenna and Mallet Girl are co-owners of Queen of Hearts Delivery and Bounty Hunter Agency. Jenna handles all the office work while Mallet Girl, with the aid of her trusty sidekick sweetie-kins, I mean, Alias Uno, handles all the actual delivery and bounty-hunting jobs.”

“And I wouldn't have it any other way,” Jenna commented. “That arrangement not only gets Mally out of my hair for hours on end but I would never trust that girl with a stapler, let alone the filing cabinet. And I shudder to think what havoc she could wreak with the paper shredder.” She flicked the cigarette away after taking one las heavy drag. “Way back in nursery school, Mally stayed in school after classes once to help the teacher clean up the art supply. Sigh. Mrs. Anderson was never the same again. To this day, I still don't know how paste could explode like that.”

“Wow!” Chibi Mallet Girl exclaimed. “Mallet Girl's amazing!”

“Turnip tart!” agreed Uber Chibi Mallet Girl.

Jenna didn't say anything else but simply lit herself another black cigarette.

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There was a surprised cry and then a crash followed by a howl of pain.

“Now then,” the waitress said cheerfully. “I'm Mally and I'll be your waitress this evening. If you're looking for Sheila and I don't really blame you if you are cuz, man, the boobs on the girl, I mean, dang! Well she called in sick, I'm afraid. Frankly speaking though, just between you and me, I think she's just playing nookie. Wait, or was that hooky?” She shook her head. “Anyways, I think she's gone to the pie-eating contest. I mean, who wouldn't? Pies are great! Why, if only I'd know about it sooner, you know, I wouldn't have agreed to fill in for her and I'd be at the Pie-Pie Emporium myself this very moment. Sigh!”

The poor Bond Nerd was frozed stiff, his countenance ashen. His eyes were wide open, veritable saucers upon his shocked, distorted face.

It was her. That Mallet Girl cosplayer. All dressed now in a cute waitress uniform.

It was her. She even had a small, smiling mallet drawn on her name tag.

It was her! He thought he had gotten away but it was all a lie! A lie! It was simply too much for his already over-stressed heart.

“So what can I getcha?” Mallet Girl asked.

But for the answer, there came none. Clutching his chest tightly, the Bond Nerd keeled over ever so slowly. Silently, he slid off the stool and fell on the floor with a dull thud.

Mallet girl leaned over the counter to look down on him. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

No answer. Not even a sound did he make. The Bond Nerd didn't move at all and he was starting to froth at the mouth.

“Oh, dear,” Mallet Girl went. “Does this mean I won't be getting any tip? Aw, man. And I was gonna complement you on your looks, too. You must be a celebrity or something cuz you look awfully familiar.”

CHAPTER DISCLAIMER

No actual nerds were killed in this chapter. Maimed? Yes. Hospitalized? Yes. Terrified to within an inch of their life? Yes. Beate, bashed, broken, and stomped? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. But killed? No.

CHAPTER DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER

No actual nerds were killed OR hurt in any way whatsoever in this chapter. Any violence thus depicted was just a figment of the author's twistedly sick sense of humor and imagination. He is currently receiving treatment as per the orders of the court.

Incidentaly, it will be some time yet before the next chapter is written and thus presented for your enjoyment. We here at Junkyard Press beg your pardon and patient consideration.

In the meantime, please enjoy this lovely elevator music rendition of the heavy metal band Goat The Sequel's new hit single “Sticky Love For Bleeding Orifice”.

INTERLUDE -- MEET THE FAMILY

Jake's Assorted Junk Thrift Mall. At least, according to the rusted, faded, hand-painted sign hanging on the wire fence with barbed wire coiled at the top, just beside the front gates.

The place was actually known to the residents of the fair city as the Axion Plus Junkyard. Or App-J for short. It was the biggest junkyard in Axion Plus City, located just outside the city proper but still well within the city limits.

In the light of the full moon, an old television set with bent rabbit ears antenna lay at the summit of the tallest mountain of assorted junk at the center of the main yard, surrounded by a maze of pile up, old, broken down cars. The television switched on by itself. The screen showed nothing but static at first, a thick flurry of electric snow. Then the television set quieted down and show a blank white screen.

For a moment there was silence, save for the faint sounds of various heavy machinery in the distance.

The television screen flickered and then...

“Howdy-howdy-howdy!” A pint-sized version of Mallet Girl but with a rather over-sized head popped into view, waving her right hand in greeting. “It's me! Chibi Mally!” She nodded. “Chibi Mally! Yep! That's my name and don't you forget it!”

“I'm just like Mallet Girl,” she continued, balancing a red croquet ball on the tip of her right index finger whilst spinning a wooden mallet like a cheerleader's baton with her other hand, “only much more adorable.”

“Hey!” a voice protested from off-screen. It was Mallet Girl.

“Now, now, Mallet Girl,” a man's voice replied. “You can't inflict bodily harm on Chibi Mallet Girl just yet. We still haven't finished paying for her yet and we're still waiting for news on her insurance application.”

“Whoopsy!” Chibi Mallet Girl let out an embarassed giggle. “I though she had left already.”

“You can't treat me like this!” Mallet Girl cried. “I'm the star of this show! I'm leaving!”

There were sounds of foot steps followed by a door creaking open and then slamming shut.

Chibi Mallet Girl waited for a couple of moments to make sure that Mallet Girl wasn't coming back. “Whew!” she said then. “For a minute there, I was afraid she was gonna go ballistic again. She can be quite the spoiled, violent diva, that girl.” She nodded knowingly, with her eyes closed.

Suddenly, a shrill whistle sounded. A badly pixelated, diminutive mailman marched across the screen; so terribly and choppily animated was he, just like the video game characters of yore. He handed Chibi Mallet Girl a small, white envelop, tipped his hat, and then marched off the screen.

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“Now then,” she panted, casually tossing aside what remained of the wooden dais, “just one more and I'll have gotten the complete set.”

She turned around to see the last remaining Nerd disappear down an open trapdoor in the stage floor towards the rear of the stage. It seemed that the man had discovered one of the secret passageways leading out of the building for the exclusive use of celebrities and star performers wishing to avoid the fuss and unwanted attention of rabid fans and paparazzis alike.

“What the--!?” Mallet Girl exclaimed in surprise. She was quick to recover however and drew yet another one of her wooden mallets from her back. “Hey! Come back here you! I said come back here! Oooh! Bond Nerd, I challenge you! You hear me? Hey!”

But the Bond Nerd was not listening. He had been shown the path to salvation, the way out of this horrible nightmare. He was not about to stop for anything.

He was the complete opposite of the super spy he adored and admired so much. A gaunt-looking, nervous little man, he was completely devoid of the suave, calculating deameanor of Agent 007. Why, he couldn't even pull off the legendary character's signature statement properly, not even if his own life depended on it.

Down the narrow staircase the terrified, little Nerd stumbled and into the dimly-lit corridor below. It was narrow, just as a little wider than the staircase, but it mattered little to the poor Bond Nerd. He just kept on running and running with nary a pause or thought as to where the dark corridor was leading to, visions of the rampaging devil woman nipping at his heels lending wings to his faltering feet and legs.

The corridor was long and winding but finally he found himself clambering up the short staircase at the end of it. He threw open the door and fell into a deserted alleyway, several buildings away from the veritable hellhole that had been Building 85. He was out at last and bathing in the fading light of setting sun.

But still he was not away far enough. Escape still remained but an elusive dream for he could still hear her calling out to him, calling out his name. Oh, that voice! That horrible, nightmarish voice! Not unlike the sound made by a tin can slowly being crushed but intensified a hundredfold. He would remember that voice for the rest of his life, such as it was.

“Come back here, Bond Nerd! Face your beating like a man!”

Shrieking in abject terror, he scrambled to his feet in all desperation. He ran and he ran and he ran, crashing into many a trash can, sidewalk sign, and occasional mime. Past shops and stores he fled. Past startled pedestrians who stared at him in wonder, completely oblivious to his plight.

Everything appeared distorted to his fevered mind. The people. The cars and buses. The neon signs. The fiberglass mascots standing in front of the shops. Everything, even the most mundane of objects, appeared to be dark and twisted versions of themselves, all seeking to put an end to his sorry, miserable existence.

“No!” he cried out. “Keep away! Oh, Jesus! Oh, sweet Moneypenny, save me!”

And so he continued running. And run he did until he could run no more, collapsing in a heap in a dark alley, sobbing and gasping for breath.

He lay there on the filth-ridden, slime-covered concrete, shivering and crying. With trembling hands, he covered his face as though to shield himself from the horrors, both real and imagined, but mostly imagined, that were besetting him.

It took him a while to recover, to regain enough composure and courage as to lift his head and look about him. And when he finally did, he found himself in the middle of a dark, deserted alleyway, the cold night air heavy with the stench of rotting garbage emanating from the dumpster nearby. Yeah, it was already evening. He must have been running for more than a couple of hours. Quite a feat indeed considering he was neither athletic nor possessed of a robust constitution; he had never ran even a fraction of a mile in his entire life.

But this amazing achievement was lost upon him for so concerned was he with his own safety, both physically and mentally. He looked here and there, left and right several times just to make doubly sure, until he finally allowed himself a sigh of relief. That woman was nowhere to be seen. He had succeeded in losing that monster and he was safe at last.

Slowly, he made his way out of the alley, shoulders slumped, head bowed, for though a great weight had just been lifted off him, he found himself at the very brink of exhaustion. He considered calling the cops, going to the precinct even. But then, he paused, if he did go to the police, that woman might take it as a personal affront; he could only imagine the vengeance she would exact upon him then.

The poor Bond Nerd shuddered.

She may only have been cosplaying Mallet Girl but she was still quite the formidable force to reckon with. No doubt the cops will be hardpressed indeed to bring her in. Why, they might even have to call in the real Mallet Girl to deal with her. If only she hadn't been so crazy, she would have been perfect to play Mallet Girl.

He noticed a diner to his right. “PAPAYA-RAMA-LAMA” the sign above the door said in bright red, orange, and yellow neon lights.

His stomach growled as if in response.

Perhaps a little bite to eat was just the thing he needed to help soothe his frazzled nerves and clear his head? Yes, a bite to eat. Oh, and a smoothie. He was parched. He'll make up his mind after eating on whether or not he should report the incident.

And so the Bond Nerd entered the Papaya-Rama-Lama Diner.

A small bell rang as he opened the door. Looking around, he saw that all the booths were occupied and he had no choice but to take seat by the counter. He waved at the waitress behind the counter as soon as he was seated. “Um, excuse me.”

The girl's back was toward him. His eyes widened as she turned around and greeted him with a perky smile.

“I'll be right there,” she replied. She refilled one of the cups on the counter with coffee. “Think fast, Gramps!” she then cried out as she gave the cup and saucer a quick push, sending them sliding fast towards the far end of the counter. Without waiting to see if the old seated at the far end caught the cup and saucer or not, she returned the carafe to the coffeemaker and then turned and stepped toward the Bond Nerd.