Food Fight
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
Teenage girl kicks ass while investigating cafeteria mystery meat

It was the first day of the new school year.  Stacey, a high school 
senior, leaned back in her seat and looked at the clock on the wall.
Two more minutes until the bell rang for lunch.  She stifled a yawn as
the math teacher droned on in his boring manner.  She was a sports-
minded, tomboyish outdoor girl, and she had gotten used to being free
and able to spend time outside during the past couple of months of
summer vacation.  Turning her head towards the window, she gazed out at
the blue September sky and tried to think of something pleasant.

The bell rang, jolting her from her thoughts.  Stacey got up and joined
the crowd of students streaming towards the door.  In the hallway, she
met up with her two best friends, Nina and Rachel. "Man, I'm hungry,"
said Rachel.

"Me too," said Stacey. "I was ignoring the boring math lecture in class
and thinking about food instead."

"Uh, guys, I've heard this rumor," spoke up Nina. "I heard that they
gave the cafeteria food contract to a new company, and the food is 
REALLY bad this year."

"Well, it was bad last year, but we managed," said Rachel.

"Yeah," added Stacey. "Anyway, cafeteria food is supposed to be bad,
just like math class is supposed to be boring and Principal Daniels is
supposed to be authoritarian.  We complain about it, but deep down we 
all know that it's just another part of life."

Nina shrugged and tossed her long blonde hair. "Don't say I didn't warn
you."

When the girls got to the cafeteria, the first thing they noticed was
the smell. The smell seemed about one-third sewer, one-third rotten 
eggs, and one-third glue factory. All three girls wrinkled their noses.  
Nina poked the others in the ribs, an "I told you so" look on her face.

"Let's take a look at the food," said Rachel. "Maybe the sewage system
got clogged or something, and that's what's causing the smell."

They went over to the food. Although the various items were marked with
familiar labels such as "Fried Chicken" or "Mashed Potatoes," the food
itself definitely did not look (or smell) like anything familiar.  The
girls looked at each other and shrugged. "May as well see for 
ourselves," said Stacey, placing some items on her tray.  The other two
girls followed suit.

They carried their lunches to an empty table and sat down, looking at
each other uncertainly.  Rachel finally announced, "Well, here goes 
nothing," and took a small bite of her mystery meat.  The other two
stared at her intensely as she chewed.

"Wow, it's actually pretty good," said Rachel.  

"Really?" said Nina.  She took a big bite of her own mystery meat...and
immediately began gagging.  Spitting the meat out, she yelled, "Ugh! It
tastes like shit!"

"Gotcha!" said Rachel, breaking into peals of laughter. "Pretending 
that that piece of crap was good was so fucking hard...but the look on
your face..."

"I'm so going to kick your butt for this!" said Nina, giggling in spite
of the situation.  She jumped up and chased Rachel out of the cafeteria
and onto the grass outside, finally catching her with a nice tackle 
(all three girls enjoyed playing tackle football with guys).  Nina and
Rachel rolled around playfully on the lawn, and were soon joined by
Stacey, who jumped on top of the others with a tackle of her own. After
a few more seconds of wrestling, the three pretty girls untangled
themselves and sat on the grass, still laughing.

"That was cruel, Rachel," said Nina finally.

"But funny," Rachel responded. "Well, looks like we won't be eating 
there any more this year."

"Would anybody eat that stuff?" laughed Nina.

"Those anorexic girls might," said Stacey. "One bite of that shit and
they'll lose their appetites for hours.  It's perfect for them." All
three girls giggled.

"Yeah, probably some rich anorexic girl got her daddy to assign the
cafeteria food contract this way, so it could help her diet," said 
Rachel jokingly.  Stacey and Nina laughed, but soon a thoughtful look
came over Stacey's attractive, tanned face.  How HAD such a terrible
food company won the contract?

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. The girls quickly
gathered up their things and headed for their respective classes.  
Throughout her afternoon lectures, Stacey's thoughts continued to dwell
on the cafeteria situation.  She decided to do some investigating.  She
remembered seeing a small sign behind the cafeteria counter that 
displayed the name of the food company providing the service - Monroe
Foods. "I'll look it up on the Internet tonight," she thought.

After the bell indicating the end of the school day rang, Stacey met up
with Nina and Rachel again.  The girls stopped at a fast-food place for
some burgers and fries to make up for their missed lunch, then went 
their separate ways to walk home.

It was a pleasant walk home for Stacey, only about six blocks.  The sky
was clear and the fall air was just right, not too hot and not too cold.
As she walked, she noticed that there seemed to be an unusually large
number of "Lost Dog" and "Lost Cat" notices posted around the 
neighborhood.

Arriving home, she unlocked the front door and let herself in.  She was
an only child and her parents had left yesterday on a week-long business
trip, so she and her cat, Mittens, had the house to themselves.  Mittens
greeted Stacey as she arrived, rubbing against her legs.  Stacey petted
Mittens and gave her some kitty treats, then went to her room and turned
on her computer.

She did not learn much from exploring Monroe Foods' website.  It was 
mostly just the standard marketing speak about how service and quality
were important to them, blah blah blah.  She did learn the address of
their headquarters, which was across town.  She looked at her watch. 
"Too late to visit them today," she thought. "But tomorrow after school,
I'll pay them a visit and see if I can't get to the bottom of this
situation."

The next morning, after eating a quick bowl of cereal and feeding 
Mittens some canned cat food, Stacey headed out to her father's car
(which he had said she could drive if she was VERY careful with it). She
usually walked to school because it was so close, but she wanted to get
right to her trip to Monroe Foods after school, so that she could have
as much time there as possible.  She had gotten into the car and was 
just about to start the engine when she suddenly remembered something.
"Lunch!" she thought.  She wasn't going to go through that awful
experience in the cafeteria again.  Hurrying back into the house, she
put a ham and cheese sandwich, an apple, and some cookies into a brown
paper bag and hurried back out.

She went through the day at school impatiently, eager to get to the food
company and see what was going on there.  Finally, the bell rang at the
end of the day.  Stacey hurried out to the parking lot and got into her
dad's car, heading across town.

"Here it is," she said to herself about twenty minutes later, pulling up 
in front of the location.  She parked the car and stepped out, examining
the place carefully.  Monroe Foods was a square, medium-sized, one-story
building, painted white. Several acres of greenery surrounded the place,
which was quite far from any other buildings. It looked ordinary enough.

After quickly fixing her hair, Stacey took a deep breath and walked into
the building.  A frowning, middle-aged receptionist greeted her. "May I
help you?" she asked.

Stacey explained the problem with the cafeteria food at her school. When
she was finished, the receptionist scowled at her.

"Young lady, you've wasted your time coming out here," said the middle-
aged woman. "I can't help the fact that you don't like your school's 
food.  Now please-"

"Just a minute," said a new voice.  Stacey and the receptionist both 
looked up.  The speaker was a thin man in his forties, wearing glasses
and a business suit.  His voice sounded smooth and slick. "My name is 
Dr. Jones.  I'm in charge of public relations for Monroe Foods." He
looked at the receptionist, then at Stacey. "If this young lady here has
some concerns with our products, then I think we should listen to her."

"Whatever you say," scowled the receptionist, going back to typing on
her computer.  Jones gave Stacey a smile that seemed forced. "Now, why
don't you tell me exactly what your concerns are," he said.

Stacey repeated to Jones what she had told the receptionist.  He nodded,
a serious look on his face.  When she was done, he paused for several
moments before responding.

"Well, what you've said is very serious indeed," he declared. "Here at
Monroe Foods, quality and service are our highest concerns." Stacey 
tried not to roll her eyes. "I'll get on this right away.  As soon as I
can, I'll send a representative to your school to see what's going on.
In the meantime, I want to reassure you that the conditions you 
describe are not what Monroe Foods is all about.  If you want, I can
give you a personal tour of our kitchen to show you how good our quality
really is."

"All right," Stacey agreed. "They wouldn't dare try anything on me right
here, in broad daylight," she thought. "And if they do, I'm sure I can
take both Jones and the receptionist in a fight." At this last thought,
a smile appeared on her face.  Jones, noticing it, gave her a puzzled
look, then said, "Right this way."

"So who is this Monroe, anyway?" Stacey asked.

"Dr. Ruth Monroe is the head of our company, as well as its founder,"
answered Jones. "She's not here right now, but if she was I'd be glad to
introduce you to her.  Well, here we are at the kitchen." He pushed open
a swinging door.

The kitchen was big compared to an ordinary house kitchen, but small for
a commercial one. Several white-uniformed employees were working busily.
In contrast to the odor at the school cafeteria, the smell here was a 
pleasant mixture of various familiar foods.  Stacey looked around.
Everything seemed very clean.

"We receive fresh vegetables every day," said Jones, pointing to where a
worker was slicing tasty-looking tomatoes and lettuce. "And we use only
the best quality meats.  Beef, pork, chicken, all your favorites."

Stacey looked around some more and had to admit that everything seemed
to be fine, in this kitchen anyway.  But somehow, things were not fine
at the school cafeteria, and the food at the cafeteria was coming from
this company.  Something didn't add up.

Jones popped a small piece of chicken into his mouth. "Here, try some,"
he said, offering a piece to Stacey.  She took a small bite uncertainly.
It was quite tasty.  She ate the rest, saying, "This is good."

"I'm happy to hear that," said Jones. "Would you like to stay here a 
while longer?"

"No, I've seen enough," she answered.  Jones smiled and led her back to
the front of the building.

"Well, I'm glad we had a chance to talk," he said, when they reached the
front door. "As you can see, we here at Monroe Foods are committed to
high quality in our products.  After our agent investigates the school,
maybe we'll know what the problem is."

"Yes. Thank you for your time," said Stacey. She waved goodbye to Jones,
got into her dad's car, and headed for home.  She was convinced that the
clean kitchen was only a front.  Jones was too slick and smooth a talker
for her liking.  And how could that little kitchen make enough food for
the big cafeteria? Plus whatever other clients they had. Surely the high
school wasn't the only one.

When she arrived home, she was still thinking about what to do next. She
unlocked the front door and stepped inside, dropping her backpack on the
couch and looking through the day's mail. "Strange that Mittens hasn't
come to greet me," she thought.  She looked around the house. "Here,
Mittens," she called out, waving an opened packet of kitty treats.  But
there was no cat.

Mittens had a cat door to allow her to come and go inside and out.  
Stacey searched the front and back yards, but there was still no Mittens.
Suddenly, she remembered all those "Lost Cat" and "Lost Dog" posters she
had seen the other day. "Oh, no!" she thought.  Deeply worried now, she
began searching the neighborhood, calling out Mittens' name at periodic
intervals.

As she looked, Stacey wondered who or what was behind the disappearance 
of all those cats and dogs.  Why would someone want to steal all those
animals? There was a big illegal market for them in animal 
experimentation, she thought.  Or maybe someone was stealing them for
food...

A sudden, horrible thought struck her.  The missing animals...the
horrible "mystery meat"...Monroe Foods...what if they were...?! "Oh. My.
Fucking. God!!!" she shrieked.

She paused for a moment. "Calm down, Stacey," she told herself. "You 
have no proof of this.  Maybe this is just a coincidence.  Don't jump to
conclusions.  It's like Mom always says.  You don't have to fall into 
the stereotype of being overly emotional just because you're a woman."

She was calmer now, but Stacey still had a sinking feeling in the pit of
her stomach as she continued searching for her lost cat.  She rounded a
corner...and heard a voice calling, "Here, boy! That's a good boy!"

She looked down the street.  A strange man was sitting in a black van,
the vehicle's sliding side door open.  He was waving a piece of meat in
the air.  A few yards away, a small brown dog was sniffing the air and
wagging its tail eagerly.  The dog headed towards the van.  The man
inside grinned evilly.

The petnapper! Here! By now, Stacey was very pissed off.  She marched
right up to the van, crossing her muscular arms in front of her. "What
do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

The man stared at her in alarm. "None of yer business, little girl," he
growled. "Now git the hell out of here."

"I don't think so," said Stacey.  She could see that there were several
caged animals in the van.  She pointed at them. "We've been having a
problem with pets disappearing from the neighborhood," she said. "And I
think I've found who the problem is."

"Little bitch," snarled the man.  He dropped the meat and climbed out of
the van. "I'm going to teach you to mind yer own business."

Now, at this point, an ordinary girl would have run off, screaming.  But
Stacey was no ordinary girl.  Physically, she looked fairly normal,
although if you looked closely at her you'd see that she was a lot more
muscular than most females. She was 5'4" and 120 pounds, with long brown
hair and dark brown eyes.  But behind the innocent high school girl look
was a talented and confident young woman with many years of martial arts
training.

The man she was facing off against was considerably bigger than her.  He
looked about 5'10" and 180 pounds, and he seemed fairly muscular.  But
Stacey was not afraid.  She had gone up against men who were bigger and
stronger than him, and she had defeated them.

The man swung a big fist at her face.  She ducked under his attempted
attack and responded with a hard punch to his gut.  As he doubled over 
in pain, she smashed her left fist into his eye, then drove her right
into his jaw.  Her opponent was knocked backward against his van.  He
yelled as he bumped his head, then spat some blood from his mouth.

"What's the matter, pussy?" taunted Stacey. "Can't handle a little 
girl?"

The man roared in fury.  He began a series of attacks, all of which
failed miserably.  First, he tried charging her.  She stopped his charge
with a powerful kick to his chest.  Next, he tried kicking her.  She
danced out of the way easily.  Finally, he swung several punches at her,
all of which she blocked or avoided.  Stacey smiled seductively, then
began her own sequence of attacks.

She started with a hard knee to his crotch, brutalizing his family 
jewels.  As he was screaming in pain, she pummeled him repeatedly in the
face with strong punches, then delivered several more punches to his
midsection.  She paused to laugh at her opponent's bloody face, then
performed a beautiful cheerleader-style high kick to his jaw, knocking
him to the ground.

He stumbled to his feet, but was knocked back down again when Stacey 
landed a vicious front flip kick on him, her size 7 sneakers slamming
into his head one after the other.  She landed neatly on her feet and
approached her fallen opponent.  Grabbing his arm, she began twisting it
painfully.  The man started screaming like a girl.

"Do you submit?" asked Stacey.  The man spat angrily.  She increased the
pressure, twisting harder. "I'm perfectly capable of breaking your arm,
asshole," she snarled. "Don't think I can't."

"Okay, okay, I submit!" he said, tears streaming down his face.  Stacey
released his arm, then shoved him hard into the van.  She climbed in
after him and slid the door shut behind her.

"Now, you and I are going to have a little Q & A session," she said, a
dangerous smile on her pretty face.  The man nodded in fear. "Do you
work for Monroe Foods?" she asked.

"I...I guess they could be called that," he stammered, his body shaking.
"I don't know what company they work for.  They meet me in a deserted
location, take the animals, and pay me."

"What exactly do you do for them?" Stacey went on. "Tell me everything." 
The man hesitated.  She made a fist. "Do I have to ask again?" she 
hissed.

"No!" he shouted. "I'll tell you everything.  I drive through different
neighborhoods, picking up animals.  They pay me a set amount for every
pound of animal I bring in.  They tell me that they process the animals 
and make food out of them."

Stacey looked like she was going to be sick. "Who is 'they', exactly?"

"These two big guys in a white van.  I don't know their names." Stacey
nodded.  They couldn't be Dr. Ruth Monroe or the skinny Jones. But then,
Monroe and Jones probably had henchmen doing their dirty work for them.

"One more very important question," she said. "Did you steal my cat?
She's a little black and white cat, on the next block over, and answers
to the name of Mittens.  She disappeared today."

"Yes, I think I remember that cat," said the man. "I was out there this
morning.  I delivered a load of animals to the guys in the white van
earlier today.  Your cat must have been with them.  I'm supposed to make
another delivery later today."

Stacey nodded calmly, then suddenly slammed her fist into the man's eye,
giving him a matching pair of black eyes. "That's for stealing my cat,
asshole!" she growled.  She then delivered a brutal soccer kick to his
already sore testicles. "And that's for selling her to butchers! You
knew they were going to make food out of her!"

As the man crumpled in pain, Stacey said, "Now there's a question I have
to answer.  What am I going to do with you? If I call the police, those
guys in the white van will get suspicious when you don't show up.  The
people at Monroe might take off.  And I can't ask the cops to raid 
Monroe, because there's no evidence yet linking them directly to the
animals.  But I can't let you go, either.  I think you're going to come 
for a little stay at my place."

She released the animals in the van from their cages.  She then grabbed
the man by the hair and yanked him upright. "Walk with me to my house,"
she said. "And if you try anything stupid, I swear, I'll break several
of your bones, slowly and painfully."

The man, a look of fear on his face, cooperated and did as he was told.
When they reached Stacey's house, she led him into the basement. "This
will be your room," she said. "And my parents are away, so don't think
that they'll save you.  Not that they would save you, once they found
out what you did to our cat."

Stacey searched her prisoner, relieving him of his cell phone, keys, 
and pocketknife.  She then handed him the phone. "Call your friends in
the white van.  Tell them you've had a family emergency and you'll be
gone for a week.  And if you try anything funny, or don't make it
convincing, I will kill you, slowly.  First, I'll break your arms, legs,
and ribs, and then I'll break your neck.  Do you think I'm not capable
of doing that?"

"I...I think you're very capable of doing that! I...I'll do whatever you
say!" he stammered.

"Good," said Stacey. "Go on now, call them."

The man, motivated by his fear of this petite but lethal teenage girl,
made a very convincing call to his friends. When he was done, she smiled
at him and took back the phone.

"Good work," she said. "Now that you've made that call, there's no 
further reason to keep you alive, is there?" She wasn't really planning
on killing him, but she wanted to give him a good scare.

The man wet his pants, urine dripping to the basement floor.  He began
sobbing and crying like a little girl.  Stacey kicked him in the face.

"Shut up, you pathetic pussy," she snapped. "Luckily for you, I have 
more respect for your life than you do for the lives of those animals.
I'm going to keep you prisoner here.  But make no mistake, if you give
me any trouble, I will not hesitate to kill you.  That includes making
any attempt to escape.  Just one quick twist and I can break your neck.
Keep that in mind." She started up the stairs. "I'll be right back with
some food and water for you."

A few minutes later, Stacey came back down...with several cans of cat
food and a large bowl of dirty water.  The man looked at her in horror.

"It's a whole lot better than the food in our cafeteria," she said
calmly.  Placing the food and water on the floor, she continued, "I 
highly recommend the fish heads.  They're Mittens' favorite." Laughing,
she headed back up the stairs and locked the door behind her.

"One down," she thought with satisfaction. "Next step, investigate
Monroe Foods...on the unofficial tour."

As darkness fell, Stacey got into her father's car and headed back 
across town to Monroe.  It was completely dark by the time she arrived.
She parked across the street from the building and made her way silently
towards it.  She was dressed in tight black pants and a black T-shirt,
and her hair was in a neat ponytail.

Walking along the side of the building, she discovered that one of the
windows was unlocked.  She lifted it up and let herself in.  It was dark
inside, but there was enough moonlight shining through the window to let
her see.  She was in a cluttered-looking office.  She listened carefully
for any sounds.  Hearing none, she opened the door.

No moonlight reached the inner hallway, so she turned on the flashlight
she had brought.  She padded down the hall...and suddenly heard voices.
She quickly clicked off her flashlight.

A small sliver of yellow light was coming from one of the rooms.  Stacey
crept closer and listened.

There were three voices, two of them male and one female.  Both of the
male voices sounded familiar.  She recognized one of them as that of Dr.
Jones, the friendly tour guide and PR man. "Got a bit of a dark side to
you, eh, Jones?" she thought to herself.

But who was the other voice? She couldn't quite place it, but it still
sounded very familiar.

"I examined all the animals," Jones was saying. "They all seem all 
right.  We got some nice chubby ones delivered today." Jones sounded 
like he was the company's veterinarian.  How could a vet choose to
involve himself in something so cruel?

"Too bad about that guy going away on his family emergency," said the
female voice.  Stacey assumed that this was Dr. Monroe. "With him gone
for a week, Simpson and Sampson will have to do more picking up of
animals themselves." Simpson and Sampson must be the two guys in the
white van. "But don't worry, Principal Daniels," continued Monroe's 
voice, "we'll still be able to supply your school with sufficient
mystery meat."

Stacey's mouth dropped wide open.  PRINCIPAL DANIELS?! So HE was the one
responsible for bringing in that barbaric food! She remembered when he
had given her detention for chewing gum, and how she had wanted to beat
the crap out of him.  Now, she wished she had.

"I've got to find the animals," she thought.  She snuck silently away
from the thugs' conversation and continued exploring the building.  Soon,
she found a set of stairs leading downward.

Going down the stairs, she emerged in an enormous basement.  This must
be where Monroe Foods did their dirty kitchen work.  The stench was
horrific.  Trying not to gag, Stacey continued through the basement.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of dogs barking.  She opened a side door
and found herself in a long, narrow hallway.  Cages lined both sides of
the hall, filled with dogs, cats, squirrels, and rats.  At the far end,
she could see two horses in stalls.  Next to them was a freight elevator.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God!!!" whispered Stacey to herself.  She hurried along
the hall, looking at all the animals, sickened at what these barbarians
were going to do to them.  Suddenly, she heard a familiar meow.

"Oh, Mittens!" she said, seeing her little cat in a cage. "You're still
alive!" Mittens licked her hand. "Don't worry, I'm going to get you out
of there.  I'm going to get all these animals out of here."

The freight elevator started up with a loud whine.  Someone was coming!
She hurried down the hall, back the way she had come.  Suddenly, the 
hallway was flooded with brilliant light. Footsteps were coming from the 
other direction too.  She was trapped!

A tall, muscular woman appeared at the end of the hallway.  When she saw
Stacey, she stared at her in shock, then, with lightning speed, drew a
gun and pointed it right at Stacey. "Don't move, little girl," she said.
The look in the tall woman's eyes was incredibly cold.  Stacey felt 
chills run up and down her spine.

"Jones! Daniels! We have an unexpected visitor!" the woman called out. A
second later, the familiar faces of Jones and Daniels appeared. "Ah, our
visitor from earlier today!" said Jones. "Too bad you weren't satisfied
with our first tour. You should have walked away while you still could."

Principal Daniels had a big smirk on his face. "Ah, the nosy little 
Stacey," he sneered. "You know, I enjoy punishing people.  I used to get
great pleasure from paddling unruly students.  But then the fucking
Supreme Court said it was wrong, so now I have to be satisfied with 
giving kids detention.  But tonight...you're going to get some real
punishment.  Heh heh heh."

From the other end of the hallway, the freight elevator squeaked to a
stop.  Two big men got out, each carrying a large dog.  They stopped in
surprise when they saw Stacey.

"Good evening, Simpson and Sampson," said the tall woman. "We were just
coming to meet you when we caught this intruder here. Everything's under
control.  You can go ahead and put those dogs in cages."

"Yes, Dr. Monroe," said the big men.  As they locked the dogs up, Monroe
turned to Stacey with a wicked and cruel smile. "Well, young lady, it
seems you wanted to see what we do here.  And you're going to get your
wish.  Oh, yes.  You're going to see what happens to the animals 
firsthand...because you're going to become food along with them.  The
perfect way to dispose of your body.  Plus, there's a hilarious irony in
turning you into food and feeding you to your friends at school. If they
only knew..." Principal Daniels broke into loud laughter at this remark.

Stacey felt like curling up into a ball and crying her eyes out.  She
had been so close to freeing the animals and getting the evidence she
needed against Monroe and her thugs.  To come so close, be caught, and be
about to face a horrible death...she wanted nothing more than to cry. But
she didn't.  She would not give these sadistic monsters the satisfaction
of seeing her cry.

Instead, she stared straight into Monroe's piercing eyes...and the barrel
of her gun. "Someday, justice will come," said Stacey simply. "Someday."

Monroe laughed. "Little girl, no one will ever catch us," she sneered
confidently. "That neat little kitchen upstairs is a perfect cover.  The
workers up there, they don't even know shit about this big basement.  As
of right now, only six people know what we're doing here, and tomorrow,
only five will.  Simpson, search her, then put her in one of the big 
cages.  I think she'll fit."

"Yes, boss," said Simpson.  He grabbed Stacey from behind, while Monroe 
continued covering her with her gun.  Simpson searched Stacey, relieving
her of her cell phone, flashlight, keys, wallet, and watch.  He then
shoved her into a cage and locked it. 

"Simpson, you and Sampson can bring in the rest of the animals," ordered
Monroe. "Jones, do your examinations." 

The two big men went back up in the elevator, while Jones began examining
the dogs that had just been brought in.  Monroe and Daniels went back up
the stairs, snickering to each other in triumph.

Twenty minutes later, the animals had all been brought down and examined.
The lights were turned out and Stacey was left alone in her cage.  Only
when she was alone did she finally allow herself to cry.

After one minute, she stopped crying.  Her mother had told her, "When
something terrible happens, cry for a day, then move on with your life."
Since in this situation she didn't have a day, she did it only for a
minute.  She then looked around for anything that might help her escape.
They had taken all of her possessions, even her watch.  Now that was just
plain crude stealing, like the Nazis taking gold teeth out of their 
victims before shoving them into the gas chambers.  It wasn't like she
was James Bond with an escape-aiding gadget watch.  She didn't even have
a hairpin with which to try to pick the lock.

She shifted around uncomfortably.  There was barely enough room to move.
She examined every bit of the cage, the floor, the walls, the ceiling.
Nothing.  She looked at the cages next to her.  The one on the left was
empty, while the one on the right held a big St. Bernard, sleeping
peacefully.  But there was still nothing that could help her.  She put
her head in her hands.

Fifteen minutes passed, then thirty.  The St. Bernard shifted position.
She looked over at it with a wistful smile. At least he wasn't living his
last moments in fear.

She was just about to turn away when suddenly, she saw something shiny 
glinting in the faint illumination from the dim light by the elevator.
It was a piece of wire that had come loose. The dog's body had previously
been covering it.

Stacey reached for the wire.  Just out of reach...she streched a little
further...as far as she could go...got it! She gripped the wire tightly
and looked at the lock. "My only hope," she whispered.

She inserted the wire into the lock.  She rattled it around, trying 
different angles.  Five minutes passed.  Then ten, then fifteen.  She
kept trying.

Finally, she heard the loveliest, most welcome sound in the world - that
of the lock unlocking with a click.  She scrambled out of the cage and
streched her aching limbs. "Yes!" she whispered, pumping her fist in the
air.

Stacey looked over at the staircase where the thugs had gone up. "You're 
going down," she whispered. "And unlike your cafeteria food, you're 
staying down."

She headed for the stairs.  Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming down
them.  She squeezed herself into a corner and waited.

A few moments later, the thin frame of Dr. Jones came down the stairs 
and started down the hall, passing right by her hiding place without
seeing her.  He had a hypodermic syringe in his right hand.

Stacey stepped out so that she was right behind him, then let out a
feminine little cough. "Yes, what is it, Dr. Monroe?" he said, not
bothering to turn around.

"We have a problem. The prisoner has escaped," said Stacey in her normal
voice.  At that, Jones whirled around.  He opened his mouth, but before
anything could come out, she had closed it with a high kick to his jaw.

Jones stumbled backward.  He tried to jab her with the syringe, but she
dodged it easily, then kicked the needle out of his hand.  He swung his
fist at her.  She simply grabbed his arm and twisted it hard.  As he let
out a high-pitched squeal of pain, she kneed him in the stomach, then
punched him in the nose.  Looking at her dizzy opponent, she smiled
brightly and performed a beautiful but brutal spin kick to the side of
his head.  He crumpled to the floor.

Stacey walked over to the fallen syringe and picked it up.  She knelt
down next to Jones, who was groaning.  She smiled coldly as she held up
the needle to him. 

"Whether you live or die is entirely dependent on whether or not you 
were coming down here to kill something," she said in a calm and 
controlled voice.  With that, she plunged the needle into his arm.  He
wiggled around for a few moments, then lay still.

She checked his pulse.  Still alive.  She got some rope she had noticed
in the corner and tied his hands.  She then noticed a rag that had
evidently been used to clean up the animal shit.  With a wicked grin,
she stuffed it into his mouth and secured the makeshift gag. If he woke
up, he wouldn't be able to yell for help.  She then locked him into the
very cage that she had been locked in.  As she left him, she whispered,
"Eat shit, Dr. Jones."

Stacey looked at the animals. "Hang tight a little longer," she 
whispered. If she released them now, they would make a lot of noise and
all of the other thugs would come down at once, making it four against
one.  She gave Mittens a quick rub behind the ears, then headed back up
the stairs.

A noise came from outside the building.  She peered out a window and 
saw Simpson and Sampson loading crates into their white van.  Lifting 
the window and climbing out, she made her way towards them, readying
herself for the fight.  Her opponents were both big, muscular men, each
around 6'2" and 220 pounds.  She gathered up all her courage and 
prepared to attack.

Stacey launched herself through the air and landed a flying kick on
Sampson's broad back, her sneaker-clad feet plowing into him hard.  The
force of the impact knocked the goon into his partner.  Both of them
fell to the ground.

The two men growled in fury when they saw little Stacey. Simpson got to
his feet first. Before he could attack, she delivered a vicious kick to
his groin.  As he fell back down with his hands on his family jewels,
she greeted the recovering Sampson with a side kick to his chest.  He
swung a punch at her, which she dodged.  She pummeled him in the gut
several times with powerful punches.  She grinned as he doubled over,
gasping.  Her left leg came up in a beautiful cheerleader kick to his
face, then, with her right, she fired off a vicious roundhouse kick to
the side of his head.  The strength of her kick sent him flying several
feet through the air. He banged into the van and slid down, ending in a
sitting position.

Suddenly, Simpson grabbed her ankles and yanked hard.  As Stacey fell
backwards, the big goon grinned and climbed back to his feet.  Stacey,
however, was not going to be a cooperative little victim.  Instead of
landing on her ass, she turned the motion into a back handspring and
landed perfectly on her feet.  Simpson's grin turned into a look of 
shock.

"Gymnastics is a very useful skill to have," smirked Stacey. She calmly
sidestepped Simpson's attempt to kick her, then punched him right in 
the jaw.  The thug didn't try blocking the punch, thinking that a 120
pound girl couldn't do that much damage.  The explosion of pain in his
jaw quickly showed him the error of his ways. He made a serious attempt
to block her next punch.  Unfortunately for him, his ignorance might
have been cured, but his lack of speed was not.  She landed her next
punch clean on his nose, then smashed her fists into his face several
more times.  Smiling seductively at her wounded, stumbling opponent,
she performed a perfect standing back handspring, kicking him as she
backflipped.  Simpson was knocked to the ground.

Stacey heard Sampson trying to sneak up behind her.  She waited until
he was at just the right distance, then delivered a powerful back kick
that plowed into his midsection.  Spinning around, she greeted him with
a high kick to the face that showed off her impressive flexibility.  At
its highest point, her leg reached a full vertical split.

Simpson stumbled back to his feet and charged her.  Sampson attacked
from the other direction.  Stacey grinned, then leapt high into the air,
doing a midair split and kicking both of her opponents at the same time.
The teenage girl then kicked Simpson in the chest, knocking him into the
van and causing him to hit his head hard.

Stacey turned on Sampson.  Grabbing his arm as he tried to punch her,
she gave it a vicious twist and socked him in the stomach. As he doubled
over, she straightened him with a brutal uppercut.  She pummeled his
face and body with fast punches, then paused and stepped backward 
slightly. She then delivered a full-strength roundhouse kick to the side
of his head, even stronger than her last one.  Sampson flew through the
air and landed on the ground in a heap, unconscious.

Simpson was in a kneeling position, holding his head.  Stacey marched
over to him and slammed her knee into his face. "Fuck, you've gotten
blood on my nice pants now," she said.  She drew her leg back, then
launched it in an amazingly powerful kick to his head, as if she was
kicking a soccer ball.  Simpson was knocked out cold.

"All right!" cheered Stacey.  She clapped her hands together and did a
standing back tuck to celebrate.  Then she giggled. "I'm such a dork."

Stacey tied and gagged the two big goons.  She then relieved them of
their van keys, as well as taking back her own things from Simpson. 
Searching the van, she found a pistol and a magazine of ammunition. She 
took the gun, loaded it, and chambered a round.  Since she knew Dr.
Monroe had a gun, this could come in handy.  Next, she dragged the men 
into the back of their van, one by one. It took all of her considerable 
strength to put the large men in. She locked them in the van and headed 
for her next targets, the two most sadistic members of the gang - Dr. 
Monroe and Principal Daniels.

Suddenly, footsteps approached from around the building.  The figure of
Principal Daniels appeared.  He was of average height, fat, and balding.
Stacey, who had the gun tucked into the back of her pants, thought about
using it, but then decided that she wanted to finish the principal 
slowly.

"Hey, Simpson, Sampson," came Daniels' voice. "Dr. Monroe asked me to
check - oof!"

As the principal rounded the corner, Stacey greeted him with a brutal
high kick to his jaw.  She then grabbed him and headbutted him, sending
him into the wall.

"Waat the fhuck?" groaned Daniels, his speech slurred by the damage 
from Stacey's kick. "Oh, itsh you, you lithl bitch! I alwaysh wanted to
beat the cwap out of twubblemhakers like you!"

"Try and get me, you fat pathetic piece of dung," she taunted.  He spat
out a loose tooth, then charged directly at her.  At the last second,
Stacey stepped to the side and smashed her elbow with vicious force into
the side of her opponent's head. Looking at him with hatred and a desire
for vengeance in her eyes, she put all her strength into a sadistic kick
to his groin.  He fell to the ground with a very loud and girly scream.

Stacey began kicking her downed opponent, giving him several kicks to 
the head, then sending kick after kick into his ribs, breaking many of
them.  As she brutalized him, she thought about the kidnapped animals,
the cafeteria food, and the principal's betrayal of trust.  Principals
were supposed to look out for their kids.  She became angrier and
angrier, and kicked harder and harder.  She finally paused after about
twenty kicks.

The bloody, battered principal now looked as if he had gone up against
a train.  Stacey wasn't finished yet, however.  She leaped on top of him
and began punching him in the face, again and again.  Blood splattered
everywhere. As she reared back for another punch, Daniels, barely alive,
let out a faint plea for mercy. "Pleath, thtop. Ihve had enough.  Ihm
bhegging you, pleath dhont khill me!"

Stacey looked at him coldly. "If I was back in that cage and I was 
begging you to let me go and not turn me into food, would you have shown
me mercy? I don't think so, asshole!"

His plea for mercy denied, Daniels' battered mouth formed into a scowl.
"You lithl cunt, I should haf raped you while you were ihn that cage."

"I'm glad you said that," said Stacey. "It makes me feel a lot better
about what I'm going to do." With that, she swiftly and brutally snapped
his neck with a loud CRACK.  She glared at the corpse, her eyes blazing.
"Burn in hell, you worthless sack of shit," she hissed.

She stood back up. "One more to go." She headed back into the building.
She was about to go back to the room where she had first heard Monroe,
thinking that she was still there, when she heard a noise coming from
the basement.  She drew the gun and headed cautiously down the stairs.

She now got a better look at the main basement room.  Directly in front
of her was a long row of stacked crates.  Through gaps in the stacks,
she could see two enormous deep fryers, each about seven feet square and
five feet deep.  There were also several large ovens and grills. Various
boxes and tools lined the walls, and a small stairway led up to a narrow
catwalk that ran above the length of the big room.

And then, there was the stench, the horrible stench of roasted, fried,
and grilled animals, mixed with that of rotting fruits and vegetables.
Stacey just barely managed to keep from throwing up.  Unfortunately, she
couldn't help making a gagging sound.

The tall figure of Dr. Monroe, who had been working on something in the
basement, whirled around, gun at the ready. "Who's there? Who are you?"

Stacey raised her gun. "I'm Stacey.  You're dead." With that, she aimed
a shot right at Monroe's head. The bullet grazed Monroe's ear.  The tall
woman let out a scream and opened fire.

Stacey and Monroe fired at each other in a wild shootout, using the row
of crates as cover, firing through the gaps, and running to new 
positions.  Finally, they faced each other across a broad gap in the 
crates, less than ten feet from each other...and with both of their guns 
clicking empty at that moment.

Monroe, her ear bleeding, let out a high-pitched scream and launched
herself in a flying kick at Stacey.  The smaller girl dodged, causing
Monroe to land in a heap on the floor.  Stacey kicked her opponent in
the side and was aiming another kick when the bigger woman suddenly
grabbed her ankle and jerked hard.  Stacey used her back handspring move
to land on her feet again.  Monroe was fast on her feet and got up too.

Monroe was fast with her arms also, and blocked Stacey's first punch. 
The tall woman responded with a punch of her own that plowed right into 
little Stacey's eye.  Stacey stumbled backwards and gritted her teeth.  
She blocked Monroe's next punch, then kneed the older woman in the 
stomach and delivered a one-two combination of punches to her face.  
Suddenly, pain exploded between her legs as Monroe kneed her right in 
the sweet spot.  With a sadistic laugh, Monroe did a spin kick on Stacey 
that knocked her to the floor.

Stacey climbed to her feet and saw that her opponent was hurrying up the
stairs to the catwalk.  She chased after her.

Monroe raced across the catwalk and opened a small trunk. She pulled out
a tranquilizer gun.  Before she could take aim, however, Stacey had
reached her and delivered a kick that sent the weapon sailing into the
air.

The two women faced off, fists raised.  Monroe glared at Stacey with
hatred and fury. "After I beat the crap out of you, little girl, I'm 
going to make sure you're still alive when we start the process of 
cooking you.  I promise you, you will die screaming."

"You cunt," snarled Stacey. "Simpson and Sampson are having a nice nap
in their van right now.  Jones has a mouth full of shit, and Daniels is
burning in hell.  There's no 'we' for you to talk about anymore.  And I
promise you, you'll soon join your friend Daniels."

Monroe looked at the petite teenager uncertainly, then let out a scream
of rage and took a wild swing at her.  Stacey ducked and responded by
slamming her fist right into Monroe's eye. "Payback," she said in a sexy
voice.  Stacey then balanced on one leg while kicking her opponent 
repeatedly in the face with the other.  Blood splattered as the lethal
girl's sneaker-clad foot pummeled the older woman's face. Stacey finally
paused after about fifteen kicks.

"FRY. IN. HELL!!!" screamed Stacey.  With that, she delivered a powerful
kick to the tall woman's chest. Monroe flew over the edge of the catwalk
...and landed right in one of the deep fryers, which was full of hot,
bubbling oil.  Monroe's screams were horrific.  

Stacey looked down at the founder and head of the food company, who was
now dying a most painful death in one of her own fryers.  When Monroe
finally expired and floated to the surface of the oil amid a gurgle of
bubbles, Stacey remarked, "Looks like you're the one who died screaming,
bitch."

She suddenly felt dizzy and lightheaded. "I won. I did it," she thought.
She hurried across the catwalk and down the stairs to more level ground.
On her way across the basement, she peered into the deep fryer that
contained the late Dr. Ruth Monroe.  Monroe's flesh looked like chicken
fried steak.

An idea suddenly popped into Stacey's head.  With a butcher knife from
the wall, she cut off a piece of Monroe's flesh.  She put it into a bag
and put the bag in her pocket.  She then went into the long hallway
where the animals were being kept.

Stacey released Mittens from her cage, cradling her tightly. "You're
safe now," she whispered.  Holding the little cat in one arm, she then
took out her cell phone and called 911.

"Please come to Monroe Foods on the corner of Eighth Avenue and Sixth
Street immediately," she spoke into the phone. "And bring as many
animal welfare people as you can.  There are lots of animals there that
need to be taken care of and returned to their rightful owners.  Also,
there are three criminals that need to be arrested.  One of them is in
the cages with the animals and the other two are locked in a white van
on the north side of the building.  The company's records should give
you all the evidence you need." She hung up with a smile. "Come on,
Mittens, let's go home."

Stacey, carrying Mittens, walked back out to the car and drove home. As
she drove away from Monroe Foods, she heard the wail of police sirens
going in the other direction.  A satisfied look appeared on her pretty
face.

Arriving home, she fed Mittens some kitty treats and fixed a sandwich
for herself.  She then went into the basement.  The driver of the black
van was sitting sullenly in a corner.  His cat food and dirty water lay
untouched.

Stacey greeted him with a bright smile. "Hello," she said. "You know, 
I've been thinking.  Locking you down here and giving you just cat food
to eat is cruel.  So to make amends, I've brought you something I think
you'll like a lot better." She reached into her pocket and took out the
bag.

"Chicken fried steak," she said, placing the piece of meat into the 
man's eagerly waiting hands.

THE END

Comments, compliments, and constructive criticism encouraged.

silverstar222b@yahoo.com