"Hey Hulk, the rest of the Justice League are here. I'm Dick Grayson otherwise known as Nightwing," proudly announces the nunchucks user. "And here is my best close female friend, Starfire."
Raquel, the introduced girly talent completes a deep curtsy while weaving her newly sharpened kris blade. "I kinda like being Batgirl but since Starfire and Dick Grayson are a thing in DC's Justice League, who am I to complain?!" the perky pretty lass giggles.
"Well, I'm the Flash," declares the other boyish guy as he brandishes quick and strong helicopter blade-like twirls with his two black-lacquered ironwood arnis sticks with iron-banded tips. "I'm not that good yet with these weapons but I got former training in self-defence and a brown belt in kung fu, so learning on the fly will sure be a breeze."
"Don't worry," the chubbier high-class call girl interrupts swiftly but politely while swiping her bo staff from left to right in a horizontal direction with only her right hand. "I'm an expert with these staves and I can easily mentor you after we're done clearing our territory of those bad guys. Oh, and yeah, you fellows can call me Hawk girl but with a staff and not a spiky hammer… plus, I don't have wings," Tricia quickly adds with a wide and overeager smile.
"Well then, because I am muscular and brawny, you can call me, Batman because I'm too nice to be Clark Kent and too dirty-minded to be Captain America," Heron seriously declares. "Those heroes are too good to be represented by me…"
"Well, I don't know about that," Nick, codenamed the Hulk, answers in a deadpan manner belying the mysterious twinkle in his amused eyes. "Especially if I ask the Princess Dianne about you…"
"Dude, don't even go there," cut in the bulky masseuse. "I hate to admit it but she is actually the reason why I'm a malicious and green-minded male to begin with!"
"Soooo… the physical therapist is in love with his patient, I see!" triumphantly announces 'The Virgin' in quite a loud teasing voice. "I bet she doesn't know, right?" Serg quickly adds while playfully slapping Heron on the back with his open palm.
"Shhh, not so loud, S!" warns Heron as he swiftly shushes his fellow male co-worker while looking around for possible listeners other than their present companions close by. "Of course, I'll never let her know how I feel for her… After all, a filthy, lusty-minded manwhore like me will never deserve upper-class royalty like her."
"Don't be too sure about that kid," interjects the Drax the Destroyer look-alike as he checks his two nickel-plated M1911A1 handguns, which he had bought because it was the similar weapons of Agent 47 of the Hitman game and movie franchise. "There are lots of unusual love stories that have blossomed here in the Mediterranean branch of the Resort. Like this European monarch who fell in love with a talent so he could bring her home and make her his queen. Also, the most recent one: a multi-billionaire friend of our very own Sir Cas came here and 'accidentally' rented a veteran talent in this resort who was unknowingly his teenage girlfriend from a long time ago. He has now bought the woman and married her, too. I do admit, that both of them did request The Midnight Resort's expensively special classified services of erasing the women's former identities as call girls and replacing them with brand new. generally wholesome and acceptable ones but they had enough moolah to do that quite easily."
"All in all, everyone gets their own happy endings," Myron assures the silent and dejected masseur with a gentle pat on one of his wide-muscled shoulders. "You may never know what fate might have in store for you. So don't lose hope yet and listen to Nick. After all, he's been around here longer than any of us and he knows what he's talking about."
Yeah, sure, Myron. If you only knew my past and why I'm REALLY working here, you'd probably agree with how hopeless my present situation is.
"Speaking of 'dream pairs', are Raya and Marion still inside their tent?" the perky hi-class hooker asks animatedly, as she cranes her neck in an effort to get a peek inside the modern nylon, fibreglass and plastic structure. "... and is her pet octopus in there, too?"
"No, unfortunately not Racks," the security man's instant replies. "They took a nighttime swim at the beach after resting for an hour. But Calvin is still there, sleeping inside his new bed AKA a big plastic basin filled with seawater. Looks like he's all full with the shrimps Raya was feeding him and fell fast asleep after his juicy meal," Nick then ends his long report on a happy note.
"Yep, there's Calvin, the slimy but cute octopus in his roomy basin," Serge confirms as he takes a quick look inside the modern and expansive three-roomed tent. "Wonder if they're coming back any time soon…"
"I don't know about that. They looked like they planned to swim for a while… or maybe MORE than swim, you know…" the gigantic man, who could give the whole WWF lineup a run for their money in the size department, chortles at his own joke.
Suddenly, Nick's radio emits a loud yelling voice complete with gunfire and explosions in the background, which overrides the static sounds of the walkie-talkie.
"Mayday! MAYDAY! Does anyone hear me?! We are currently under attack by half a dozen unknown foes who are fully armed with high-powered rifles, grenades and missile launchers! We need immediate back-up…"
A loud booming explosion resounds, then silence…
Complete and eerie silence…
"Hey! Robocop, do you copy?" Nick yells into the receiver in immense fear and panic. "Anyone there? Please guys, answer me," he continues pleading in vain.
Everyone had frozen in place, waiting for Nick's lead… And, he was the one who broke the awkward and uncertain quietness.
"You go on ahead, guys," the one codenamed "The Hulk" directs in a pressure-filled and extremely stressed voice. "I'll follow you all as soon as the ones I'm guarding get back here."
"Ohhh-kaaayyy…" the male "Wonder Twin" mumbles, doubt dripping from his shaky words. "W-whatever you say, Nick."
"Just make sure you track us down when Orion and Hiraya arrive," seconds the well-muscled, auburn-haired Sai wielder. "And better radio the other talents and security people for backup while you wait."
"Better yet, call the Supervisor or the Manager so they can sound the alarms," the other boyish newbie swiftly adds. "They might even want to join the fight."
"Yep, I was about to do just that, Serge!" the burly giant agrees in relief. "Now, go, go, go! We might be too late to save our co-workers…"
As the offbeat but ever-ready troop speed-walks away with their readied weapons, the former presidential bodyguard starts to contact his superior on his radio. "Sir, please sound the alarm. And let everyone who isn't a client come out and help the first batch of talents who are trying to rescue our Alpha Security Squad in the forest.'
"What the fuck… Why? What happened there?" the worried Castañeda enquires. "And why the hell aren't you with those talents, Nick?"
"I'm sorry, boss. I thought of doing so but Hiraya and His Majesty left to take a swim in the seaside after resting from their dinner a while ago. I need to be here when they get back as per your orders, Sir."
Oh, riiight… I did instruct the big lug to prioritize Marion and his precious food source first. Sorry, dude…I may not say it out loud but you have no control over what I think. And what you don't know ain't NEVER gonna kill yah…
"Ok, Nick just go after the talents. For sure, they ARE gonna need you." Rube carefully instructs just to make sure Nick hears and follows it all. "I'll go out there, take your place and wait for my fucking stubborn pal to arrive, capiche? Now, before you go, repeat what I just ordered you to do."
Nick inhales deeply in the hopes of controlling the tremor in his voice, "Go after the talents coz' they need me… Then you'll come out here, Sir, and replace me so you can wait for your influential friend and his personal talent to come back to their tent and their pet octopus," the 'big lug' paraphrased.
"Good job, Nicholas! Now go, you don't need to wait for me," assures The Rube. "I can take care of this…"
"But Sir…"
"GO! SCOOT! SKIDADDLE! Me and my mistress can handle this!"
The Supervisor amusedly listens to the wrestler-sized guard as he begins to slowly chuckle to himself, "Aaaahhhh, your mistress…" the huge underling says, as realization dawns on him. "Over and out, Sir Reuben and good luck!"
You are better off keeping that luck of yours, man. My mistress and I can handle anything.
With that thought in mind, Rube reaches under his office's couch cushions and drags out his 'mistress': a shotgun that is the same make and model as the main protagonist's weapon in the second instalment of the Terminator movie franchise, Judgement Day.
He loads it with shells taken from a hidden compartment with a sewn-in secret pocket that was still within the couch's plump cushions. He then pumps the long gun with one hand. As it clicks, he gets ready to leave his office and then prepares to step outside the resort since he is already dressed in his favorite black leather jacket, dark stretchy jeans, ebony leather ankle-length boots and a collared navy blue sports shirt.
I feel sorry for the damned suckers who dared cross us today, he mutters to himself as he pockets his radio into his leather jacket's hidden inner pocket and then bellows for his and his wife's female assistant. "Alexia… put the whole branch under red alert status and send out as many security staff and talents who can fight into the forest."
"Immediately, Sir! And what about you? Should I tell Ma'am Merina what's been happening?"
"Hell, no! I'm not letting my wife get hurt in this frigging conflict. We don't even know who or what we're up against," the blond Resort owner determinedly remarks, "If she asks what happening, just tell her that it's best that she protect the people in here and leave the rest to us…"
Good luck with that, Sir Reuben. Knowing how Ma'am Marina will be affected by how you're overprotecting her, I don't think she'll take it sitting down and be the damsel in distress you need to keep safe all the damn time, was the brunette assistant's thoughts