Ladybird’s eyebrows knit together in concentration. “Do you mean douche?”
“We never did cover spelling in Smart Class,” Adina said.
Jennifer marched toward the screen. “When The Corporation finds out what you’re doing, they are so going to drop you as a sponsor.”
“Listen, Little Orphan Lezzie, who do you think is puttin’ me in power? The presidency is now a Corporation-run business. And I intend to be Chairman of the Board. I’ve already got what I need — footage of ROC soldiers and an explosion. That’s what America will see on Barry Rex Live in about ten minutes. America will demand justice. I’ll make that justice my campaign promise. There will be T-shirts — made in my factories, of course — to show support. They’ll have your faces on ’em and some neato phrase, like, ‘Because they never got to walk the runway of life.’” Ladybird sighed. “Unfortunately, none of you will be around to watch the show. Can you imagine what a great moment that will be when I, Ladybird Hope, the best Miss Teen Dream who ever lived, appear at the televised memorial and lay a crown on the memorial grave of the beauty queens? I’ll give a speech about how we cannot let your deaths have been in vain, and then, as a final tribute, I will play a moving cello solo. I’ll be back in the game. Shoot, I’ll own the game.”
“This is not a game,” Adina said.
Ladybird stopped filing. “Honey, everything’s a game. There are winners and losers. I am a winner. And you …” Ladybird pushed a button on her remote. Steel doors slammed down, sealing them inside. “… are the losers. Now, I’m real sorry to tell you this, but I’ve rigged the island to blow. See? The detonator is a remote and it’s right here in my God Bless America crystal flag pin. Course, I won’t be selling this particular pin on the Armchair Shopping Network.” Ladybird laughed. She snorted at the end like a corgi. “Oh. But I am giving you a countdown, ’cause that’s classy. Prepare to take your final walk on the runway, Teen Dreams. Rest assured you’ll be more famous in death than you’d ever have been in life. There’s a small comfort in that, isn’t there?”
“No. Not at all,” Adina said.
“Well. With an attitude like that, it’s no wonder you’re in this position.”
A disembodied woman’s voice came over the speaker system. “Commencing countdown to destruction in ten minutes. Nine fifty-nine. Nine fifty-eight. Nine fifty-seven …”
“Oops. Looks like it’s time for me to go on Barry Rex Live and break the news about your deaths to a frightened nation looking for guidance. So long, Teen Dreamers.” Ladybird smiled and waved a stiff hand in a beauty queen salute. “Sorry you won’t go out pretty.”
The screen went dead.
“I am so not voting for her,” Tiara said.
“Nine thirty. Nine twenty-nine. Nine twenty-eight …”
Adina ran to the control panel embedded in a long desk beneath the TV screen. “There has to be some way to turn this thing off, right? Like a-a whatchamacallit… .”
“Off switch! Do-over button!” Miss Ohio said.
“Voice recognition software, maybe,” Shanti said, searching the control panel for some hint.
“One of those palm-reading things?” Jennifer offered. She and Sosie pushed buttons in random sequences, hoping for a detonation-stopping bingo.
“Eight fifty-one. Eight fifty …”
“Crap!” Adina said. “What’s the name of that thing that always stops the bomb in the movies?”
“Manual system override,” Agent Jones said dreamily.
The girls turned to him.
“Manual system override,” Nicole repeated.
“Mmm-hmm. Stops it.”
“Agent Jones,” Nicole asked carefully. “Do you know how to override the system manually?”
“Screw the system, man. You’re beautiful. I’m beautiful. This table is beautiful.”
“We are all beautiful. You know what would be most beautiful? Overriding the f**king system, asswipe!” Jennifer yelled.
Agent Jones frowned. “Men have feelings, too. You bruised the petals of my man flower.”
“Christ,” Jennifer hissed.
“Apologize,” he said.
“What? No way.”
“Apologize or no system override.”
“Jen …”
“This douche nozzle tried to kill us. A lot.”
“Apologize!” everyone screamed.
“Okay! I am sorry … Man Flower.”
The agent wrapped her in a big hug. “It’s PowerPoint.”
“I apologize, PowerPoint,” Jennifer said through lips crushed against Agent Jones’s chest.
“The system is PowerPoint only. Harris forgot to change it back. Let’s communicate with our fingers.”
“Agent Jones! So … we have to make a PowerPoint presentation to override the system?” Shanti slapped a hand to her forehead. “Are you kidding me?”
“Mmm-hmm. Pretty pictures and bullet points.” The agent sat, lotus-style, on the table.
“Oh, hey,” Nicole said, averting her eyes.
Shanti sat down at the computer. “We’re making a PowerPoint, Teen Dreams.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“How’s it coming, Shanti?” a nervous Mary Lou asked six minutes later.
Shanti concentrated on the laptop. “Almost there.”
Tiara looked over her shoulder. “Ooh, put in the picture with the mountains. That one was so pretty.”
“Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven …”
“Less than a minute to go, Bollywood,” Nicole said.
“Hello! Well aware, thank you. ’Kay. Uploading now …”
Shanti pressed PLAY, and the PowerPoint presentation was in motion. It was an image of Ladybird Hope waving from a Corporation private plane.
Fun Facts About Ladybird Hope & The Corporation!
Tried to kill us
Kept rescuers from finding us
Made secret arms deal with Republic of ChaCha
Assassinated world leader
Her pageant-wear line poorly made
Again, tried to kill us
“Go to second screen!” Nicole said.
“Give it a second,” Shanti said. “I put it on slide show. That’s how we do it in IP.”
Two seconds later, an island scene came up.
“I picked that shot,” Tiara said, clapping. “Isn’t it pretty?”
There Is a Secret Corporation Compound!
Polluting environment
Harming animals
Making weapons
Avoiding taxes
Forming secret alliances
“Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. Twenty-six …”
“Come on, come on,” Adina pleaded softly.
A shot of Ladybird Hope and MoMo B. ChaCha in the heart-shaped hot tub appeared onscreen. Ladybird Hope had been caught midspeech. Her mouth was twisted and her eyes were half closed.
“Not her best,” Sinjin said. “Still. Total MILF. Paranoid and very wrong, but MILF.”
Ladybird Hope and The Peacock!
Secret alliances = treason
Illegal weapons sales = also treason
Illegal campaign contributions = bad
Human rights violations = super bad
Killing defenseless Bambi = just plain mean
Totally ha**ng s*x in that hot tub = conflict of interest, unethical, unsanitary
“Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Sixteen …”
“It’s a whole new world of pretty …” Agent Jones sang, rocking softly on the table.
Shanti glanced at him, then looked to the ceiling. “Please don’t let this be the way I die.”
The fourth and final panel was of Ladybird Hope smiling and waving between The Corporation’s logo and the White House.
America’s Presidency: Reality TV Show or Commodity?
The screen faded to black and the words The End.
“Did it work?” Adina asked.
“Five. Four. Three. Two …”
They held their breath.
“Awesome PowerPoint! System override successful. Thank you. Have a productive day.”
The metal doors and shutters rolled open. They were free. The girls and pirates collapsed onto the floor in relief. Agent Jones hugged one of the ergonomically correct chairs. “I think you’re special. Do you think I’m special?”
A powerful rumble shook the room.
“What’s happening?” Tiara said, grabbing hold of George, who didn’t seem to mind.
Adina sat up, panicked. “I thought we overrode the system!”
“We did!” Shanti shouted.
“Then what’s that scary sound? Earthquake?” Miss Ohio asked.
Tane’s face was grim. “It’s the volcano.”
“The dead volcano?” Mary Lou’s eyes opened wide.
“Maybe the system override activated something?” Tane pointed to the monitor. On the screen, the volcano’s opening spewed smoke and ash.
Jennifer gaped at the image. “Whoa.”
“Holy shit!” Sosie said.
“Beautiful,” Agent Jones murmured.
“OMG,” Shanti gasped.
“Totally phallic,” Tiara said. “Oh. That means like a penis.”
“That means trouble,” Petra said. “The volcano, not the penis.”
“Thank God, luv,” Sinjin said.
“Give it a rest,” Adina muttered.
“What do we do now?” Nicole asked.
The ground shook, knocking Corporation graph charts from walls.
“Run!” Mary Lou shouted just as the alarm flared red and everything began to crumble.
CHAPTER FORTY
Nicole had the sensation of floating in a gray-white haze. Fabio Testosterone called her name. Streamers fell from a ceiling. Cameras flashed. Girls in sashes clapped for her. The Miss Teen Dream theme song played under the audience’s thunderous applause. She dipped slightly and let last year’s winner place the crown on her head. It was surprisingly heavy. And then she was walking down a runway, roses cradled in her right arm. With her left arm, she waved and blew kisses. Down in the front row, her mother sat, looking proud and a little scared. She mouthed, “I love you,” and Nicole mouthed back, “Love you, too.”