Chapter 33: Jelly and Jam Time

Morning breaks, finding our heroes and villains in various states of variety. Chris 'Big Dawg' Redfield stands outside the guys' tent on the beach, practicing his tai-chi moves while looking strikingly like Street Fighter's own Ryu. "Capcom franchises," Chris whispers to himself, internalizing his chi and taking a knee. Glee.

"Glee sucks," Billy 'I Punched A Guy' Coen mumbles in his sleep, turning over. During the night, he has unconsciously stolen everyone's sleeping bags and piled them underneath of himself. The big jerk.

Barry 'My Beard Is Fight' Burton sluggishly awakens to find himself wrapped around the sturdy form of Josh 'Banana Boat' Stone. In a mixture of embarrassment and utter confusion, Barry carefully crawls away, accompanied by consistently small farts.

Finally, Leon 'Herbal Essences' Kennedy blinks his sleepy little eyes. He's been up all night playing Pokemon on his Gameboy. Realizing that the sun has come up, he shrieks in horror and turns face-down onto his pillow, passing out.

At the gals' tent, Jill 'I Picked A Lock And I Liked It' Valentine is snoring wretchedly while sprawled out on her sleeping bag. One arm is callously slung across Claire 'Don't Slash Me Bro' Redfield, who responds only by twitching her leg slightly while she sleeps, occasionally belching.

Sheva 'Don't Be Reckless' Alomar snoozes in her hammock. The Biohazard Symphony Orchestra soundtrack in her CD player ends. Unconsciously, her thumb hits the 'replay' button and she keeps on sleeping.

Sherry 'Eat My Shorts' Birkin is in such a deep sleep that it almost seems like she's dead. Good gracious! But don't worry. Her little nosey-wosey nostrils are moving. She lives.

Suddenly, Ada 'Quadruple Kidney Punch' Wong sits up in her sleeping bag. She looks at her alarm clock, which is set to go off at 7:00am. Currently it is 6:59am. Frowning in distaste, Ada grabs her pillow and smothers her alarm clock to death with it.

In William 'Hoagie and a Half' and Annette 'Pills Here!' Birkins' tent, meanwhile, there is no alarm clock. At 7am precisely, Annette pops up from her sleeping bag, going 'WAAK, WAAK, WAAK, WAA-' William busts her upside the chops with a pillow, prompting her to return to slumber.

Over at Rebecca 'Straight Out Of Compton' Chambers' tent, Anthony 'Milk Bone' Mihovich awakens to find the teen wonder sleeping peacefully in his arms, drooling all over his meager bicep. Grimacing slightly in sexual confusion, Anthony rouses her with a gentle poke to the cheek.

"I've nothing to declare," Rebecca states immediately, blinking her eyes and sitting upright. After a stretch and a heck of a yawn, she blinks again and props herself up on her hands, looking around. Her gaze falls to the gangly guy. "Did we do it?"

"No!" Anthony hisses, frantically glancing behind him.

Rebecca nods. "I know. I was just testing you ." She scoots inside of her sleeping bag for a moment and shuffles about, then pops back out, fully dressed and ready to meet the day. Anthony beholds her with an awed expression.

"How did you do that?" he asks. "You were wearing pajamas a second ago."


At Brad 'Vickers is Quickers' Vickers's tent, Steve 'I Shot My Dad So Many Times' Burnside awakens to find Ashley 'Leon Shot My Dad?' Graham in her sleeping bag next to Brad, smoking a cigarette. Their shoulders are bare, seeming to indicate that-

"OH MY GOSH!" Steve shrieks, yielding an annoyed glance from Ashley. "Did you two DO IT?!"

Ashley drags from the cigarette and blows out a puff of smoke. "..Nope."

"Yeah we totally didn't, Steve," Brad affirms. "We just like laying next to one another in a sleeping bag and smoking cigarettes."

"Naked," Steve adds, raising an eyebrow.

Ashley raises her opposing eyebrow in contest. "But we're not naked," she insists, sweeping aside the top of the sleeping bag to reveal herself in a suit of plate mail and Brad in his usual stupid outfit of pants, t-shirt, and a yellow vest.

Steve whips around, facing away from them and looking confused and a little afraid.

"SCIENCE!" Rebecca yells from nearby.

Over on the bad guys' side of the beach, Albert 'Ravemaster Hans' Wesker has entirely rolled himself up in his tent, save for his head. For a moment, it looks as though he's awake. Hard to tell with his shades on. No, wait, he's snoring.

In Percible G. 'Home Skillet' Hunk's tent, Hunk is coolly leaning against the tent wall in stark silence. How cool is it that he can sleep while standing up AND smoking a cigarette? Completely badass.

Jack 'Party Hardy' Krauser is asleep facedown on his pile of camouflage leaves, snoring loudly. What a dope. One of his little robot things scuttles up to him and plops down next to his face, beeping incessantly. It then proceeds to explode.

Carlos 'Pizza In The Morning' Oliveira leaps to wakefulness, shouting obscenities while reflexively combing his hair. Noting the now heavily unconscious and charred Krauser, he calms down and even begins chuckling at the man's expense.

Ramon 'My Right Hand Comes Off' Salazar, thrown by the blast, now lays on top of Hunk's head. "Get off me," Hunk mutters, bowing his head forward to toss the little gremlin aside. Salazar lands on his back and instantly begins flailing and snarling.

Next, we join 'Big Papa' Nemesis at his tent. The author has decided to return him to his proper age, as the two factions are not engaged in combat at the moment. Nemesis snores quietly, laying flat on his back and taking up a large portion of the tent.

Morpheus 'Sexy Von Sexington' Duvall awakens to find that his vision is obscured.. by a leech. Shrieking in horror and dismay, he hurls the little beast off of him. It grunts in resentment and shuffles away squishily.

James 'Wing-a-Ding' Marcus wakes up and angrily slaps Morpheus, then goes and tries to console his poor little leechy-poo. All the while, he internally laments at how long it's going to prepare his hair that morning.

Alfred 'Tweet That Tweet' Ashford sleeps on peacefully, still crumpled at the entrance of the tent where he had tried to run to his sister the night before. What a dope and a half.

Over at Excella 'Sideboob' Gionni's tent, Excella is sipping the champagne and looking so fresh. She does not care that it is morning time. "It's just sparkling grape juice!" she insists. Oh sorry.

Riccardo 'I Know A Guy' Irving snores incessantly, as is the custom of his people. He is buried haphazardly in his sleeping bag, with one sock missing. His hair, as usual, is a complete mess.

And Kamesen.. isn't in the tent. He's behind the tent, sprawled among the beach with a mouthful of sand. Awakening, he sputters and coughs angrily. "What the HELL?!"


Meanwhile, at the Fortress of Flatulence, the masterminds of terror are rising from their slumber as well. Or not. Alexia 'Sexy Legs' Ashford is not present in the throne room, but laying instead on her four-post bed in the master bedroom of the fortress castle thing. She is wearing comfy pink jammies and her blanket is covered in ponies. Aww.

Osmund 'Dick In A Box' Saddler broods excessively upon his throne back in the.. throne room. Actually his eyelids are just painted to make it look like brooding eyes are staring out at anyone who can see him. He's snoring like a baby.

"WHYAREN'TTHEREANYBLACKRESIDENTEVILVILLAINS?!" Saddler awakens with a start, waving his arms around and panicking. "Wuh..what?" He looks around, composing himself as he rubs his eyes and wills away the sleepies. His slumber had been filled with visions of world domination, as well as that stupid sexy American hero, Leon Kennedy. "I want sausage!" Saddler yells inappropriately, indicating his level of morning hunger. He bonks his wrinkly old man fists on his throne. "Breakfast!" Saddler continues to chant while beating his fists against the throne, making a heck of a ruckus. "Breakfast breakfast BREAKFAST BREAKFAST-"

All of a sudden, he spies a figure at the top of the enormous stone staircase leading down to the throne room. It is none other than Alexia Ashford herself, wearing a pleasant smile and a maid outfit. She is carrying a tray of pastries and teas and other morning goodies. Saddler has to do a double take just to make sure that he isn't hallucinating. Black skirt.. white apron.. thigh-high stockings with lace garters, high heels and even an elegant diamond-studded choker.

"Impossible," Saddler mumbles as Maid Alexia approaches with fluid grace, placing the tray before him.

Maid Alexia bows curtly and continues to smile with uncharacteristic pleasantness terribly unbecoming of an evil princess. "May I get you anything else, Lord Saddler?"

A creepy grin curls the corners of Saddler's mouth. "I must be dreaming!"

The smile widens on Alexia's face. "YEP. Y'ARE." She slams his head against the pastry tray-

"GAAH!" Saddler jumps in his seat, looking around frantically. Alexia is sitting slumped in her throne at the north wall, snoring horribly and drooling on her purple dress. Scowling in annoyance, Saddler sits up in his throne and yawns, looking around for those dream pastries. "Stupid sexy Lexy," he grumbles.

Alexia sits up straight, eyes snapping open and a psychotic smile adorning her lips. She is looking straight at Saddler. "What?"

"Uh, what?" Saddler echoes awkwardly, shifting on his throne. "I uh, said I want..some pancakes."

Alexia smiles wider. "SO GO MAKE SOME!" she yells, then closes her eyes, her head going slack even though she is still smiling. She begins to snore again.

Saddler releases a deep sigh and goes to fix breakfast.

_- (buy Umbrella stock!) -_

Some strange amount of time later, the second in command comes shuffling back into the main chamber. Alexia, sensing waffles, sits upright again. Her eyes widen in bewilderment as Saddler, wearing a maid outfit, approaches her throne with a heaping plate of breakfast food.

"Why?" she asks merely.

Saddler grunts and sets the tray on a stand, shoving a fork into some waffles and then transferring them to Alexia's plate. "I had an odd dream and I feel compelled to fulfill it in some way shape or form."

Alexia shakes her head and grabs a fork. "You're so f(bleep)cking weird."


Back on the beach, Leon and Chris are fixing up some mean bacon , eggs, and pancakes 'A La Redfield Style'. Both of them are wearing maid outfits.

"Pancakes up!" Chris shouts, whipping a spatula back and flinging a pancake through the air. Claire leaps out of nowhere and catches it in her mouth, swallowing it whole.

"Bacon and eggs up!" Leon announces, flinging the breakfast behind him in the same manner that Chris had. The strip of bacon and two sunny-side up eggs flop onto Steve's face, as he has fallen asleep again near the campfire. Ashley romps over and eagerly laps at the eggs, causing Steve to wake up and start screaming.

"I want Lucky Charms," Brad whimpers, turning his nose up at the offered meal. Ada does Guile's flash kick and knocks a coconut off of a tree for him. She then shrugs at Brad, mumbling that it's the best she can do given such short notice and that he ought to be grateful.

Billy and Barry dig in to some eggs and bacon, each making louder and louder 'eating' noises even though it's completely unnecessary. Billy lets a huge belch rip through the camp, causing Barry to collapse onto his side in a fit of red-faced giggles and farting.

Anthony and Rebecca sit side-by-side on a log, doing their best not to maul their pancakes beyond recognition with plastic forks. "Muufgfghgfwiigf?" Rebecca asks, her cheeks stuffed with pancake.

"Bufgfghwyufg," Anthony replies curtly, also with his mouth entirely full. Both of them dissolve into wheezing nerdish laughter, drool and syrup dripping out of the corners of their mouths.

Sheva and Jill are enjoying their breakfast as well. Sheva, finishing up quickly, grins at Jill. "Jill, do the thing!" she requests.

Jill nods, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Ok, I'll do the thing."

Sheva expertly whips her plate like a frisbee, sending it flying over the sea. Jill turns away, unhooks her holster, and draws her pistol. Without looking, she aims behind herself and fires once. Everyone gasps, watching as the paper plate jolts in the air, a hole blown clean through it. Light cheers go up around camp, applause and hoots sounding in response to Jill's Skills.

"JILL JILL WOW DO IT AGAIN!" Brad screams, grabbing a stack of paper plates and just throwing them to the breeze.

Everyone ducks for cover as Jill pivots and starts firing randomly around the beach, her brow furrowed in confusion and concentration. Stock gunfire and ricochet noises pepper the air as tents are blown apart, trees torn to shreds, and sand blasted everywhere by Jill's sporadic firing.

Finally the carnage ceases. Jill spins her gun once and goes to jam it in its holster but Chris grabs her wrist before she can do so, and delivers a patient scolding to the woman as Jill pouts.

The crew, deer-eyed, slowly emerges from cover. Brad is just sitting where he was, clapping like an idiot. Ada decks him.

"That was um, really cool, Jill," Josh stutters, still checking himself for extra holes.

"Gee cripes," Leon mutters, "I hope the Birkins are ok."

A little ways down the beach, William Birkin is holding what used to be a fork. His mouth is open mid-bite. The end of the fork which once held bacon is no more. Annette is scowling quietly, her coffee mug spilling coffee from holes on both sides. Sherry pulls her head out of the sand, shaking her hair out and looking a bit miffed.

On the other side of the beach, the baddie laddies (and lady) are hella getting their breakfast on also. Wesker has ordered Marcus and Morpheus to catch fish, while Hunk and Krauser have converted one of Krauser's stupid robots into a George Foreman grill again.

Nemesis is cramming his fist into a box of Lucky Charms, until Salazar snatches the box away and runs off screaming as Nemesis bellows.

Carlos shakes his head and sighs at the chaos, then reaches behind himself to draw forth a box of-

"GO-O-LDEN GRAHAMS!" Ashley yells in a rockstar voice, appearing out of nowhere with an electric guitar. Carlos just stares at her, stunned. Ashley stares back, adorned with eyeliner, and highlights in her somewhat spiky rockstar hair.

"HEY WAIT, GO AWAY!" Carlos shouts, jumping up from his chair. Ashley screams and runs off, dropping the guitar with a terrible sound. Infuriated, Carlos staggers along the beach after her while trying to draw his pistola from his belt.

Irving sidles over to the abandoned cereal box and plops down, taking it for himself. He shoves a fistful of Golden Grahams into his mouth and chews slowly, watching the early morning carnage unfold.

Excella is yelling at Wesker to make her breakfast in bed. Wesker has plugged his ears and is screaming in the highest, most annoying tone he can manage.

Kamesen is in the surf, trying to crawl out to sea, but the waves keep pushing him back.

No one cares about Alfred, so he's not in this scene.


In no time flat, everyone has finished their breakfast. Now, it's to the booths! Heroes and villains alike scurry to the booths that they constructed the previous day.

Curious folks are already meandering over towards the booths. Children look around in awe, grownups rub their chins and cock an eyebrow or two. Both good guys and bad guys watch eagerly as parents reach for their wallets...

The 'Chicken Chaser' booth is off to a sort of promising start. Leon puts on a short demonstration for a few onlookers, running after a couple of chickens. He gets distracted when one lays an egg though, and he and Sheva immediately fight over who gets to pick it up. Chris just laughs nervously and shoves the two out of the fenced area, sweeping an arm aside to invite a couple of kids clutching pocket change.

Problems have already arisen at the 'Spy and Lockpick' booth. As the booth is mysterious and alluring, not to mention its attractive staff consisting of Jill and Ada, there have been many eager men who have tried their hand at the puzzles. All of them are lying on the floor in a heap, unconscious. "Ada, you can't keep knocking ALL of them unconscious," Jill laments half-heartedly, sighing.

"But I spotted them," Ada states starkly, shrugging. "Therefore they lose." She pauses a moment to viciously chop the back of some guy's neck who is attempting to creep past. "That's the agreement, right? They have to sneak by us and then lockpick their way to the finish?"

Jill locks eyes with her booth partner. "Yes, but we need to go easy on them. We're professionals, after all."

Another man pokes his head out from behind a wall. "Not to mention sexy!" he contributes, slobbering a little with a glazed look in his eyes.

Without looking away from Ada, Jill pulls out her gun and shoots a spot on the wall. The man falls from behind it, yelling in pain and then grunting as he hits the ground. "My kneecap..."

Over at Claire's booth, Billy and Barry have set up the cardboard Wesker targets, and Josh has triple-checked to make sure that none of the guns are real guns. A small child approaches the booth, pouting ridiculously. "This booth sucks!" he sneers, kicking up some sand.

Claire stares down at the kid with a tremendous amount of exasperation. "Did Wesker pay you to come over here and say that?" she asks. The child looks up at her and nods quietly. She slaps him.

"This gun sucks!" another kid complains, frowning in distaste at the plastic air rifle Josh had set up.

Josh sighs a little and tries to show the child that using a pellet gun can be fun. "Please just give it another try," he asks, gesturing to the firing line.

"No!" the kid shouts. "I wanna use REAL guns!" Billy and Barry look at one another, then at the kid, then at Claire who is fuming. They begin to inch away from the booth.

"YOU AREN'T RESPONSIBLE ENOUGH TO USE REAL GUNS!" she screams, whipping out a chaingun. The barrel starts spinning as everyone shrieks and dives for cover. Claire cackles wickedly over the cacophony of lead exploding out of the barrels at an alarming rate. Wesker targets splinter into sawdust as Claire unleashes hell's fury.

Finally the bullets end, the barrel slowing until it clinks to a stop. Claire crams the chaingun back down her pants where she had pulled it from. Everyone comes crawling out of their hiding spots. People from the other booths are looking over in morbid curiosity. The whiny kid unplugs his ears.

"Real guns are DUMB. I want THIS gun!" he sneers, snatching the air rifle out of Josh's patient hands. And promptly shooting Billy in the kneecap with a pellet.

"OW!" the ex-marine yelps, grabbing his leg and hopping around as the kid laughs. "You nasty little rapscallion!"

"SHOTS FIRED SHOTS FIRED!" Barry yells, drawing his water gun. He sprays the kid in the face, who then begins crying in the most annoying pitch conceived on this planet. Things do not seem to be going well at this booth.

Over at Ashley and Steve's Makeover booth, Ashley.. is giving Steve a makeover. A couple of people are watching. Every time someone cautiously moves forward to offer money for a turn in the makeover seat, Ashley whips her head at them and snarls furiously. She seems to have missed the entire point of having built a booth in the first place.

Brad and Anthony have had no customers to their kissing booth yet. Brad keeps insisting that Anthony kiss him in order to 'perfect the art of kissing and thereby win back tremendous amounts of customers', but the gangly lad seems bent on refusing him at every turn. Suddenly, a handsome young man approaches the booth, flipping a quarter casually. Why a Japanese man in his home country is carrying American currency is beyond me. Anyway, Brad spots him and tugs excitedly on Anthony's sleeve, who has been trying to ignore the man.

"A customer!" Brad shrieks, making Anthony wince. Anthony's withered frown seems to express his distaste at the thought of kissing another man. "Hey!" Brad scowls. "You agreed to do the kissing booth, and we have a duty to serve every customer, no matter their gender! So get kissin', kissy!"

"I'm progressive," Anthony claims, standing tall, "..but not THAT progressive. I'll let you field this one." Brad happily obliges, clasping his hands to his chest and puckering his lips. He and the man go at it like they're lifelong lovers. As Anthony checks his watch, the pair tumble to the ground and full on start making out. Meanwhile, a young girl approaches the booth, blushing and clutching a few nickels in her hands. "GO. AWAY." Anthony yells firmly. She starts sniffling and then begins to cry.

"HEY." Kamesen stomps up to the kissing booth, slapping his hand down on the counter. "That little girl has the cash, so give it up!"

Anthony stares disbelievingly into his- er, the author's eyes. "Are you joking? I am not putting my lips on a pre-teen!" The young girl is still sniffling and rubbing at her eyes while adorably still holding on to her nickels.

Kamesen grabs Anthony by the shirt and pulls him close. "Listen. You will grant that kid a wholesome, chaste smooch on the cheek or so help me I will tear off your legs and make you wear them as antlers. I have been writing this story for eight years and I want it to END."

Wide-eyed, Anthony can only nod helplessly. Kamesen releases him, brushes his shirt a few times with his hands to straighten it, and steps aside, gesturing while smiling at the girl. She hesitates, looking timidly to Anthony. He does his best to reassure her with an awkward smile, grimacing slightly as Kamesen jams a large handgun against his spine.

A small smile appears on the girl's face and she walks over, standing on her tiptoes to deposit the change into the nearly empty jar. "Thank you, little girl!" Kamesen says, nudging Anthony with the gun. "Now YOUR part of the contract," he adds aside to Anthony, through clenched teeth. Anthony sighs and leans down, smooching the girl's cheek. She blushes immediately and lets out a euphoric shriek of glee, the frequency of which is almost too high for anyone to hear. The kissing booth money jar shatters, its fifty cents tumbling free.

"PRECIOUS MONEY!" Kamesen shouts, diving for the cash. Anthony just covers his ears in dismay as the girl continues to giggle and shriek while running around with her hands on her cheeks. Brad and the other man are still making out on the ground. "CHARGE HIM EXTRA!" Kamesen shouts at Brad, picking through glass to get at the change.

Sherry walks by then, stuffing her face with cotton candy. She stops, looks at Anthony, points, and just starts laughing at him. Then she realizes that her booth is next, so she runs off.

SO THEN, over at the science booth, people are lined up to see what sorts of horrors Rebecca and the Birkins have whipped up. Annette sits over several beakers and a bunson burner, cackling madly as she pours and mixes chemicals with mad abandon. Rebecca is taking notes and showing William. He glances aloofly and then pours his coffee on her notebook. Finally, with a flash of light and a puff of smoke, the mixture is finished. Annette is breathing heavily and even sweating a little as she glares with a wicked smile around the audience.

"Ten cents to taste the mystery elixir," she announces in a breathy, witch-like manner. A few hesitant hands reach forward, dropping money into a tin can labeled 'cash-money-4-life'. Annette hands over the potion, and a brave audience member takes a sip. Sherry arrives at this moment, brushing her teeth after the cotton candy. She sputters toothpaste everywhere, looking on in horror as more and more audience members take a sip from the beaker.

"Mom what did you DO?!" she cries, looking to Annette. Her mother only laughs evilly in response.

The crowd seems to be enjoying the brew. "Tastes great!"

"I love it!"

"It's like apples and bubblegum!"

More dimes are tossed into the can. More eager hands pass the elixir. In a few moments it is gone, and a groan of dismay rises from the onlookers who didn't get any.

"Fear not, I will concoct more!" Annette announces.

Sherry grabs her by the shoulders, staring into her eyes. "Mom, please tell me you didn't put any viruses in that mixture," she says in a low voice.

"It's ok," Rebecca assures her, "she didn't. I was watching her the whole time, trust me. But.." she looks down at her coffee-stained notepad, "by my calculations, the results are not going to be pleasant."

William snorts. "By MY calculations, you're a big fat DUMMY head."

Rebecca is in his face in an instant, seething through clenched teeth.

A fart breaks the air suddenly.

And then another one.

Annette, Sherry, Rebecca, and William simultaneously look over toward the crowd of people who have started to walk away.

One by one, farts continue to rip through the crowd, growing louder and more powerful. Annette begins to chuckle.

Sherry grabs her mother by the lab coat lapels. "Mother what did you DO?!"

"IT'S A FART POTION!" Annette bursts, eyes wide. She immediately throws her head back in hysterical laughter.

The chorus of horrible farting continues as crowd members complain and wave the air, looking horrified. Rebecca just sighs and covers her eyes. William shakes his head in disappointment at his wife, who is laughing like a hyena now.

The crowd quickly returns and takes their money back, farting angrily the whole time. William grabs Rebecca's soggy notebook and slaps his wife on the back of the head with it. She continues to laugh herself into a stupor.

Meanwhile, the bad guys are busy with their booths at well. Sort of.

Wesker and Krauser's 'Give Us Your Money And We Won't Kick You' booth is a raging failure. No one has even dared come close to the establishment.

"I think we need to make an example of someone," Krauser growls, his muscular arms folded over his muscular chest while he muscularly grimaces.

Wesker thinks this over for a moment and then kicks him in the shin. Krauser hisses in surprise and pain, collapsing to the ground and curling into a ball as he clutches his leg. Wesker's expression is unreadable from behind his ever-present shades. He scans the passers-by, frowning only slightly as still no one approaches to offer their money.

Hunk and Alfred's 'Punch Alfred' booth is terribly successful. Kids of all ages are lined up around the block, beating the crap out of Alfred as he lays on the floor of the booth and cries. Unfortunately, Hunk forgot to set any rules or even a price. So basically children are hitting Alfred for free. "HEY!" Hunk yells, taking a break from laughing, "No kicking!" he orders, pointing at a kid.

Over at 'Drama Theatre', a considerable crowd has gathered to watch Marcus, Morpheus, and Nemesis' reenactment of 'Those Miserables'. Currently Marcus has taken the stage, and is executing a beautiful falsetto, with one arm lifted toward the audience and the other clasped to his chest. The audience claps and murmurs in admiration, tossing some loose change onto the stage. Morpheus steps forward then, pirouetting gracefully into Marcus' arms. The crowd claps again, cheering and tossing some more change. Then Nemesis stomps onto the stage and sings his line, which consists of him just bellowing horribly. A girl in the crowd screams and throws a half dollar coin onto the stage. Spotting it, Nemesis' good eye widens and he yells in excitement, diving forward and smashing through the stage itself. Marcus cries that he is ruining everything, while Morpheus just laughs nervously and bows a few dozen times in rapid succession to the crowd, who erupts into brief, furious applause.

Carlos is busy frying something up at the 'Snacks and Whatnot' booth. "We sure have had a lot of orders for burgers," he notes aloud, flipping another beef patty.

"Yeah," Kamesen echoes, looking side-to-side shiftily. "That's.. weird."

A young woman approaches the booth, smiling politely. "One onigiri, please," she requests.

Kamesen stares at her. "I don't know what that is." He turns to Salazar. "One burger!"

Salazar turns to Carlos. "One burger!" He flips open the minifridge and tosses a patty to Carlos, who expertly slaps it out of the air and onto the frying pan. As to why they are frying burgers on a pan instead of cooking them on a grill, I have no idea.

Between Carlos frying, Salazar slamming the fridge repeatedly for no reason, and Kamesen getting his arm bent behind his back by an angry young lady, this booth is noisy and kind of a failure.

Is the cash piling in? Flowing out? How much? How little? The sun blossoms in the sky, lashing out at the beach-bound booths and their attendees. Heroes and villains alike work tirelessly to try and lure more people to the activities, and to lure more delicious money out of their wallets and piggy banks, and into the change jars at each booth.

Oh right, the merchant from RE4 has a booth too. He's made like six million dollars selling pretty neat toys to kids. But he won't share his money with anyone. Jerk.

"Good job, kid! Yaneedabecareful!" Sheva shouts, as a child holds a chicken above his head and tries to avoid its frantic flapping. She hands the kid a gold star and looks over to Leon, who nods and opens the pen for the next contestant to enter.

"Uh oh," Leon says, "it looks like the chickens have summoned BOSS CHICKEN to avenge them!"

Chris runs out from behind the booth suddenly, dressed in a giant chicken outfit. Children run and scream with laughter as he chases them around, flapping his wings and clucking madly.

The mountain of unconscious men has risen to...higher than the booth itself, at Ada and Jill's booth. Nevertheless, they keep coming. And Ada keeps spotting them as they sneak through the corridor portion. And she keeps knocking them out. Jill is playing a Gameboy.

Billy and Josh have set up more targets at the shooting range, and Barry has replaced all the guns with water guns. Claire has taken to dealing with child passers-by who make offhand comments about how 'lame' the water guns are, by throwing them screaming down a nearby hill.

Ashley and- what the hell?! There are two Ashleys sitting at Ashley and Steve's booth! Hang on.. Kamesen runs over, looking from Ashley to Ashley. "Holy crap, where'd Steve go?! Why is there a clone of you?!" he demands. Ashley just shrugs.

"I guess I made him over a bit too much," she admits.

Ash- er.. Steve waves, smiling brightly. Kamesen, wide-eyed, approaches him. "Steve? Are you ok, buddy?"

"I'm fine!" Steve reports, straightening his plaid skirt and adjusting his sweatervest turtleneck thing.

Kamesen draws nearer to him, cocking his head slightly as he furrows his brow in amazement. "Ok because.. you look exactly like Ashley. Literally."

"Isn't it cool?!" Steve gushes.

Ashley nods to Kamesen. "Hey, author guy. Do you want a makeover? I could make you look just like me too!"

Kamesen stands up straight again, grinning dismissively and making a 'Pssh, naw' sort of face. But he quickly looks around then, and slowly leans in toward Ashley.

"You.. could do that?"

Good lord what is happening.

Anyway, over at Brad and Anthony's kissing booth, business is.. well, business. Brad finally finished making out with that one random dude, and the family of the little girl that Anthony smooched on the cheek while he was literally being held by gunpoint keeps waving and smiling every time they walk by.

Anthony, being the good sport that he is, waves in return while doing his best to smile.

"We got any new customers?" Brad asks, putting his vest back on as he returns to the counter. Anthony wisely decides not to ask why he had taken his vest off, and simply shakes his head. "Aw," Brad laments, staring at the newly repaired (but still nearly empty) change jar.

"Hey boys," a throaty, sensual voice says. Ada Wong saunters up to the booth, wearing her impractical but very fashionable red cocktail dress, complete with garter/holster, high heels, and choker.

Brad and Anthony gawk at Ada, then gawk at each other, then at Ada, then at each other, then at Ada. She smirks in amusement and reads the sign above their little establishment. "Kissing booth, eh? Sounds interesting.."

"Dude she's totally hot!" Brad whispers furiously into Anthony's ear. Anthony is just nodding comatosely, trying to remember how to close his mouth. Ada begins to walk toward them..

"Buh, er, um," Anthony stutters, tugging on his shirt collar. Steam blasts out from under it. Brad is hitting himself in the face with a shoe. "A-aren't you supposed to be at your booth?" Anthony asks.

"I was," Ada replies coolly/hotly, the silk dress bobbing and swaying with every deliberate step. Nearby, a car tire explodes and the windshield shatters while the alarm goes off. A fire hydrant bursts. "But," she continues, "I ran out of men to beat up, so I went on a walk."

Brad and Anthony gulp nervously, glancing at one another out of the corners of their eyes before looking to Ada again. She is standing before their booth now, casually leaning on the counter.

"I don't want to die," Brad whispers tightly under his breath. Anthony is silent, just trying to consider if it all would be worth it.

"So," Ada starts, looking from Brad to Anthony, raising a seductive eyebrow as her death-star tractor beam-rivaling lips continue to smirk, run-on sentence, "how much?" she asks in a lowered voice, leaning in suggestively as she does so.

Anthony grunts and passes out nonchalantly, eyes rolling back before he smacks violently into the ground. Brad is just standing there stuttering incessantly, trying to pronounce the syllable 'tuh'. Anthony stands back up, looking very disoriented. He slaps Brad in the face.

"Tuh-tuh-TWENTY.." Brad shouts as he is slapped. "F-ffff-ff…fffff" he then continues, but is having trouble with that one too. Anthony reaches down and produces a glass, splashing Brad in the face with water. "TWENTY-FIVE CENTS!" the man screams, drenched.

The incredibly desirable femme fatale raises an eyebrow. "That all? Well then.." she produces a quarter from her slip, waving it teasingly in the air for a moment, "..let's get started." The two men stare (in aaaantici..) as Ada (..-pation) plunks the quarter into the jar.

And promptly begins making out with herself.

"Mm, oh yeah," she moans dryly, smooching her own arms and hands.

"That's not-" Brad starts, lifting a hand, "you're.. you're supposed to kiss.."

Anthony snorts outwardly, suppressing a laugh, but his shoulders are already beginning to shake. Brad has moved out from behind the booth, and is trying to get Ada's attention to tell her that she's not doing it right, but she pays him no mind and continues to kiss herself. "I love you, Ada," Ada says.

Anthony busts out laughing, grabbing onto the booth for support as he wheezes with hysterical guffaws. Brad sets his jaw in frustration, shaking his head as he watches Ada. "It's not that funny," he says in a low voice. Anthony can't stop cackling, and falls against the counter, slamming his fist against the wood as he is now practically crying with laughter. Brad's face reddens. "IT'S NOT FUNNY." he screams.

Meanwhile, the air has cleared at the Science Booth. There is one dime left in the jar after the angry crowd took their money back, thanks to one happy citizen who claimed the farts made her feel a lot better. Rebecca is going over her notes again, William is chugging coffee like no tomorrow, and Sherry is just staring at Annette, who has fallen asleep sitting up while tittering deliriously every so often.

"We are never going to get any more business after that," Sherry sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Rebecca, sitting next to her, sighs and takes a drink of applejuice- and then promptly spits it out, her wide eyes staring unblinkingly at something approaching. Sherry follows her gaze..

Carlos approaches the booth, somehow shirtless again. Rebecca is coughing and sputtering and frantically wiping applejuice off of her face, while Sherry has practically gone comatose.

The latin hunkmeister pats his forehead with a handkerchief before stuffing it in the back pocket of his slightly too-tight jeans. Sweat glistens off of his incalculably sculpted pecs, abs, delts, quads, mods, vlads, you name it. Nearby, a bus swerves off the road and drives into a ditch. A soda vending machine explodes.

Rebecca jabs Sherry with an elbow. Sherry jabs Rebecca with an elbow. The two of them get into an elbow jabbing jamboree while staring unblinkingly at the approaching hottie.

Carlos gives a charming smirk as he leans an elbow on the booth, opening his mouth to s-

"HELLO!" Sherry screams, staring deadpan at him.

Carlos closes his mouth, looking from Sherry to Rebecca and then to Sherry again. "Er.. Hi there." He smiles again, lifting an eyebrow as he glances up at the sign over their booth. "Science, eh? That sounds, uh.. nice."

Kamesen runs up, grabbing his arm. "It's a mirror of the other sexually-charged scene!" he hisses. "I know it doesn't make sense because this isn't a kissing booth, but just roll with it!" He runs off again. Carlos blinks, shrugging.

"Actually I was wondering if you had any.. ingredients that you weren't using," he says, smirking seductively.

Sherry stiffens. "I'M TWENTY-FIVE, I LIKE SCIENCE." she yells. She puts an arm around Rebecca in a quaint pose, trying overly hard to make everything look legit. Rebecca is blowing spit bubbles while staring shamelessly at Carlos' ripped stomach. "REBECCA SNAP OUT OF IT!" Sherry cries, turning around and slapping her mother. Annette's eyes widen a split second before impact, and she slams to the ground in an instant.

"I thought you looked older," Carlos notes aloud, stroking his perfect chin.

Sherry nods violently, spraining her neck. "YES. AUTHOR GIVE ME AGE UP, PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. GOOD AM IS."

Snapping out of her reverie as a hand reaches over from off-screen and lifts Rebecca's chin so that her eyes are level with Carlos'. An audible 'pop' can be heard as her glazed eyes refocus. "Oh. Yes. YES. INGREDIENTS," she blurts. She immediately turns around and begins rummaging through a random cardboard box. Sherry occupies herself by doing shocked double-takes at Carlos.

Finally, Rebecca emerges with a bottle of 'Mama Luigi's Sexy Canola Oil'. "All I have is this," she begins to say, coming around from behind the booth and lugging the bottle, when she suddenly fumbles and squeezes it. "Oh NO," she cries out in monotone, watching in painfully fake horror as the oil splashes Carlos right on his olive-hued chest. He gasps softly, shaking his gorgeous hair in slow motion and arching back as the oil runs across his sleek, muscled body-

"OK THAT'S ENOUGH," Kamesen yells, stomping up to the booth. He grabs Rebecca by the ankle and drags her away.

The young medic's eyes widen as she falls to the ground and is pulled away. "NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Rebecca screams, throwing her head back as she digs her nails into the ground, leaving clawmarks.

Carlos just stands there covered in oil. Sherry coughs into her fist, clearing her throat awkwardly and forcing an innocent grin.

"I guess we've gone as far as we can go," Carlos says. He nods to William, who flips him off without even looking at him, and then promptly leaves.

Minutes later, Anthony and Rebecca are sitting on a large piece of driftwood, taking a break from their booths while drinking beer- uh, I mean soda.

"So," Rebecca asks in a tight voice, "make any money?"

"Yep," Anthony replies, his voice just as strained. "Yep."

A few moments go by. Rebecca takes a sip of her drink. Anthony nods quietly.

The two of them break down and throw their arms around one another, sobbing openly.

And now, onto the badguy side of the beach.

At Krauser and Wesker's 'give us money and we won't kick you' booth, Krauser is still laying on the ground. Wesker is still kicking him. No one has visited the booth.

Over at Hunk and Alfred's 'Punch Alfred' booth, Alfred is now unconscious as the children continue to beat the snot out of him. Hunk is still laughing his ass off, and he has still not remembered that he's supposed to be charging them.

Nemesis, Morpheus, and Marcus are in their twelfth act of 'Those Miserables' at their drama theatre booth. The audience is captivated. No one has gone to the bathroom in five hours either. THE SHOW IS THAT. GOOD.

Finally, Carlos has returned to the snack booth to find that Salazar has eaten all of the raw beef, and Kamesen is taking inventory of what they have left. Which is nothing.

"So much for carnitas," Carlos mutters softly, setting a special bottle of seasoning aside on the counter and frowning quietly at it.

The sun beams down on our heroes and villains as the afternoon drags on. Each and every person fights hard for their pocket change, all of them hoping that their team raises the five dollars necessary to buy Resident Evil 5 first..