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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.

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And with that, she drew a wooden mallet from the holster at her back and with a flip of her foot, she flipped up the wooden mallet lying on the floor, sending it spinning into the air. She had let go of that mallet when she dealt with Kawaii Nerd who was just too cute to be struck with a mallet. It simply wasn't done. Yeah. Fists were much better. Deftly, she caught the mallet with her free hand and then let out a wolf howl that could be heard throughout the whole building.

The blood-curdling cry froze the remaining Nerds in their tracks, like hapless animals caught in the headlight beams on a oncoming truck.

A group of them, seven in all, stood huddled in the corner of a backroom. They had barricaded themselves in, barring the double-doors with chairs and crates and all sorts of TV props. They had heard that horrible sound and nearly half of them fainted. Shortly thereafter, the horrific screams of their brethren began.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh! Noooooooooooo!!!”

“Aaaaiiiigggghhhh-gllrrrggghhhh-kkk-kkk-kkkk!”

“Ack, noooo! Let go of me! Waaaghhh! Ah-hu-hu-hu! It doesn't bend that way! It doesn't bend that way!!!”

“Monster! She's a friggin' monster!”

“S-stay away, you! I-I have a slide rule and I'm nod afraid to use it! Don't come any closer! I'm serious! Aaiiieee, nooooo! She's taken away my slide rule and now she's sticking it up my--”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

And then there was silence. Silence so deafening that the suspense was just too much to bear for the frazzled nerves of the poor, hapless Nerds that a couple of them fell to their knees, clutching at their ears.

“Oh-god-oh-god-oh-god-oh-god-oh-god!” one of them went. It was the Silent Movies Nerd. “We're all going to die! I just know it! She's gonna kill us all!”

The others tried to quiet him down.

“No, no, hush up, man!” the Math Nerd desperately implored him. “She's going to hear you!”

“We're all going to die!” the Silent Movies Nerd continued to scream. “If only the real Mallet Girl was here! She'd save us from this monster!”

“You'll doom us all, you idiot!” the Super Villain Nerd growled under his breath, shaking a trembling fist at the prostrated man; the Silent Movies Nerd was now lying on the floor, flat on his face, his hands clutched together over his head in prayer to God and to Mallet Girl for salvation.

But it was all too late. The room literally shook when the double-doors were suddenly struck with a tremendous force from the outside. It was Mallet Girl.

“I hears you, my little mousies,” she cooed. “Come out, come out! And let's play a smashing game of croquet.”

She rammed the doors with her shoulder. Then she gave them a kick. And then another and another and another. Blow upon blow she delivered upon these wooden doors, each terrific blow rocking the doors that the very hinges themselves threatened to give way at any moment.

But the double-doors held. They seemed to be made of sterner stuff that she had anticipated. Something valuable must have been stored in this room at one time or another, she thought. Mallet Girl grinned. It looked like she was going to have to bring out the big guns after all. She had been slumming it all this while, taking it easy. It was time to get serious. What joy!

She reached back over her shoulder for yet another mallet, one of the bigger ones this time, fashioned from dark, heavy hardwood. She had the mallet half-drawn when she noticed something very interesting. She paused. “Hang on a minute,” she murmured.

“She-she stopped,” the Math Nerd stammered. He laughed nervously. “She can't get in. Ha-ha-ha! She can't get in! We're saved!”

“Oh, thank God!” the Silent Movies Nerd exclaimed.

“Alright!” the Video Games Nerd said as he faced the others. “You hear that, guys? She can't get in. She really can't get in! Ha-ha-ha! Whew! For a moment there, I really thought we were done for.”

“We're saved!” cried the Silent Movies Nerd, tears streaming down his face like a mini waterfalls. He was still lying on the floor. “We're really sa--”

The nervous, hysterical laughter of the Nerds were all cut short by the slow but very audible creaking of the doors swinging open. Wide-eyed with terror but still clinging to the fleeting hope that their ears were deceiving them, the Nerds turned around as one to see Mallet Girl peeking out at them through the half-open double-doors of the backroom. Grinning from ear to ear, there was a hungry look upon her face.

In their panic, in their haste to close the doors and bar them with whatever they could get their hands on, it seemed the Nerds had not only forgotten to lock the double-doors but they plum failed to notice that they opened outward into the corridor instead of inward into the room.

Mallet Girl licked her lips greedily. “I see you!” she whispered out lout and ever so slowly.

The desperate cries and screams of the Nerds could be heard from miles away.

Outside Building 85, a very large crowd had gathered. People from the game show's audience and studio staff. People from the other buildings. The Studiotown security had cordoned off the area and closed down the whole lot itself.

“My God!” one of the security guards exclaimed. “They're getting killed in there!”

“Alright, men! Listen up!” the head of security bellowed. He slammed the door of his car shut. He had just arrived it seemed and was in quite the dark mood for it. He had just been apprised of the situation. The one time this month he had decided to come in late and this happened. Clearly he needed to get a handle on this situation personally and quickly, else he'll never hear the end of it back at the club.