Chapter 50

“Sugar Rush, thank you very much for taking my call.”

Candice was once again using what Tiff considered her “professional voice,” and she’d even gone so far as to don the fake glasses and put her hair up in a bun. Tiff wondered if it was like acting for the girl, if she needed the props to get into character, or if she genuinely liked looking like a secretary.

Sugar Rush, or at least the slightly pixelated image of her face on Candice’s phone, smiled enthusiastically back.

“Oh, I am SO excited for this team-up!” She squealed, vibrating in place so much the picture went blurry. Candice frowned and tapped the phone where it was propped up against a salt shaker, as if she could transmit the poke across time and space and get the girl to focus. “Do we have a crossover name? We need a crossover name!”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Tiff sighed, “But don’t you not even have a name for yourselves? How are we supposed to create a combo name if you don’t have a normal name?”

Not that Tiff was keen on revealing her own Super-name to the Sidekick yet. With time, she was certain it would come to light…but not yet.

“Details!” Sugar Rush waved her hand. “Don’t sweat the small stuff!”

“Actually, the small stuff is exactly the reason we’re calling today,” Candice jumped in, trying to regain control of the situation. “We wanted to get your insight on the area, see what you know about local movement so we can get a better idea of where to start looking.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” The hyperactive girl gushed. “But wait, isn’t that her whole deal?” Sugar Rush asked, pointedly glancing at Tiff. “Not that I mind talking to you or anything; the more the merrier!”

“I’m not a people person,” Tiff said bluntly.

For the first time since connecting, Sugar Rush went still. Then her smile went even bigger as she gave Tiff a cheeky grin.

“You know what? I can respect that! So, like, Candice here is your go-between?”

“Something like that,” Candice agreed. “Now, like we discussed, we need to get an insider’s assessment so we can do our jobs better. To be clear: we have two targets. A suspicious abundance of Meta-enhanced [Enforcers], and a potential black-market drug that might be artificially inflating their numbers.”

“That’s correct!”

“Well, we already know what a beefy guy looks like,” Candice muttered, “So how about we start with the drug. What does it look like? Have you actually seen it? What shape does it come in? All those sorts of things. Oh, and can you describe the side effects better than ‘it gives you powers in the short term with a chance at death’?”

“Sure, sure,” Sugar Rush nodded. “It makes your brain leak out of your ears.”

Candice almost jotted that down like she was studying for a history test. Her pencil froze halfway through writing the word “lea-,” and she broke the tip off. Slowly, she raised her head to stare at the girl on her phone.

“Excuse me?” She said conversationally, almost convinced that she’d misheard. After all, Sugar Rush had been so…blase about it that it couldn’t be right.

“Right out,” Sugar Rush said, perhaps a little macabre. “Makes you real dead, real fast.”

“I…see,” Candice said, slowing down. Tiff could totally relate to her friend turning green, but she was too overwhelmed with seething hatred to consider losing her lunch.

“Drugs,” she hissed in a dangerous whisper. “Not in my city. Not by my people.”

“I get you, girl!” Sugar Rush cheered. “Keep those streets safe!”

Perhaps Tiff and the Sidekick were mistakenly looking at this from completely different angles, but in the end, they somehow stumbled upon the same outcome.

“Besides the whole…brain leakage,” Candice grimaced. “What else does it do?”

“I don’t know what you’d call all this in drug lingo,” Sugar Rush shot off rather quickly, “The cut or strain or slice or cook or whatever, but it’s primarily a strength supplement. Makes a strong person stronger, maybe pushes them up a grade in their Stats, but it doesn’t actually give them new powers. Like, it won’t let you fly or suddenly shoot fireballs. And I suppose it all depends on how well you rolled the dice. Let’s say you get a perfect outcome? You get yoked. You gain mass; height, weight, bone density, the whole shebang. And it doesn’t go away, either. One moment you’re String Bean Steve and the next you’re Mr. Olympus. The real Captain America treatment. But that’s the 1-in-a-million. If you’re lucky, you get a decent roll. For the next few hours, give or take a day? You get some mass; usually you look like one of those roided-up junkies with a shriveled wang that has no neck and veins sprouting everywhere. Bad news is, after the effect wears off, you’re lucky if you go back to normal, because you might rubberband the other direction. You might end up a cripple. Though, from what I hear, if it works out the first time, the chances are higher that it keeps working with a second dose, so it’s easy to get addicted to keeping the rush. But you’re playing the odds…it’s gonna fail, sooner or later.”

“Sounds horrific,” Tiff said, grimacing. “Why would anybody subject themselves to that…horror? I certainly wouldn’t.”

Even thinking of a fraction of a percent of failure sent shivers down her spine.

“I can understand why they would,” Candice cringed. “Hell, I know people who’d give everything to try.”

“So,” Tiff said, shaking her head as she tried to make sense of her thoughts. “It’s dangerous, reckless, and illegal. But the success rate has to be decent, right? Or else wouldn’t we see it on the news? If there were dead bodies lying in the gutters? And you said you think there’s…what? 30? 40 [Enforcers] you’ve encountered?”

“Truth is, we might see victims in the news and just don’t realize it,” Sugar Rush said sadly. “But I’ve got a hunch it’s getting swept under the rug. Until somebody has something good to say, I think the DMA wants it kept under wraps. It’d spread panic. And yeah, that number sounds right…but I don’t think that’s everything.”

She gave the screen a serious look.

“I think somebody is increasing the chance to succeed. There’s too many bad guys running around in Hacienda for this to be a coincidence. I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Sugar Rush said, lowering her voice and leaning in, “But word on the street says there’s a new Villain in town. Like, with a capital V.”

Tiff and Candice shared a glance.

“You might be right about that,” Candice said seriously. “In which case, we probably want to leave them alone. No need to go biting off more than we can chew, you know?”

“That’s fair,” Rush agreed. “A Villain’s a bit out of my league right now.”

Tiff thought about trying to assuage the Sidekick’s fears and claim the Villain wouldn’t want any part in drugs. But she held her tongue, realizing that speaking up would only make her seem suspicious, as how would she know what a Villain would or would not want, and there was a distinct possibility, no matter how small, that a different Villain was muscling in on her turf.

Actually, the more Tiff thought about Sugar Rush’s claim, the more it made sense from a connect-the-dots sort of view, and she made a mental note to hunt for hidden lairs, along with random drug stashes and minion hideouts.

“We’ll keep that in mind for our search,” she said. “In the meantime, can you give us specific locations that seem more likely than others? Stores that are getting targeted more often, neighborhoods reporting more…unusual activity?”

“Hmm,” Sugar Rush scratched her cheek thoughtfully. “If we’re talking the areas with the highest sightings for [Enforcers], it’s gotta be….”

​

Tiff and Candice spent the next 20 minutes listening to the Sidekick rattle off addresses and describing apartment complexes. She went over various businesses in great detail…too great of detail, possibly, as the conversation threatened to derail as she started going into what services certain shops offered and what discounts a customer might find on certain days or for assorted promotions. It wasn’t until Candice nearly drooled onto her notebook after listening to Sugar Rush pontificate on the menus of two similar diners, comparing the food and making recommendations for which to visit at different times of day and what to order from each, that they finally got back on track.

While it was impossible to tell if they got all of the information out of the hyperactive Speedster, they certainly had a lot of it. Tiff made sure to thank Sugar Rush genuinely for her time before they hung up. She’d have to do something special for the girl. Maybe give her redemption coupons for all-you-can-eat soft serve? She’d probably need to limit it until they could figure out how dangerous letting a sweets-loving Sidekick have free access to the goods really was, but the girl deserved some sort of reward. Tiff would have to talk to the 24-Heaven and work out a deal.

At the very least, Sugar Rush knew her community well, and by the sounds of things, she was a well-loved, respected hero-figure. She often visited parks and community centers, volunteering for projects and helping out where needed. She also liked to play with kids, which made Tiff smile. Yes, this was what Heroes were supposed to be like, weren’t they?

“So,” Candice said at last, leaning heavily into the deep, devouring comfort of the luxurious leather couch. It threatened to swallow her whole, but honestly, Tiff could think of worse ways to go. “Are you finally going to tell me why we’re in the back room of an Italian restaurant? And why it’s fancier than any conference room I’ve ever seen?”

“Ah,” Tiff nodded. “I figured, since we were doing gang business, it might be best to do it from the headquarters of a gang. This is where the 5th Street Gang meets, and I recently upgraded their room. What do you think? Not too shabby, eh?”

“This is a gang hideout?” Candice asked curiously. She looked around the room until her eyes fell on a man sitting cross-legged in one of the huge wing-backed chairs, wearing a burgundy velvet smoking jacket and reading a newspaper. He looked up, locked eyes with Candice, and glanced down at his attire. He wiggled the top leg and a fuzzy blue slipper fell off his foot. He shrugged and went back to reading.

“I think our understanding of the term ‘gang’ might be a little different.”

“It used to be little more than a warehouse,” Tiff scoffed. “That wouldn’t do. I’m supposed to be the Dark Queen, right? And this is the only place we have right now where I can meet up with my minions.”

As if on cue, one of the restaurant workers entered the room with a rolling cart holding a fancy dinner dish. He stopped at a table where Victoria sat in her armor like a black knight awaiting some dark deed and placed it in front of her. He lifted the lid, revealing…a small stack of mozzarella cheese sticks. The smell was heavenly and made both girls’ mouths water.

Victoria noticed them staring and pulled the plate closer to herself.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Tori said, raising her visor. “I paid for these.”

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t what real villainy looks like,” Candice complained. Tiff merely shrugged. What was she supposed to do about it? This is what the System gave her, so this was what she had to work with.

Tiff could understand Candice’s confusion, though, which had begun building the moment they arrived at the restaurant. It started in the parking lot, actually, when Victoria pulled up to a middle shop that looked very out of place compared to its neighbors. All the stores on this strip had the weathered feel of a 40-year-old building whose last coat of generic beige paint was 20 years ago. The signs were faded; some were chipped or missing letters, and more than one window was cracked or had tiny holes, either from a lawn mower running over a small rock and shooting it off into the wild blue…or a bullet.

Considering the lack of nearby grass, the probability was heavily weighted in one direction.

But that was most of the shops on the walk, which put up their best front in a rough neighborhood.

And then there was Jerry’s Cucina.

It featured a sleek black exterior that looked like it was applied yesterday. The windows were stylishly tinted dark enough to keep the interior cool and dim, but they also let passersby observe the intimate interior enviously. The tables and booths looked slightly worse for wear (which Tiff claimed was on her to-do list), and the staff behind the counter were arranging meats inside a glass display case that looked like it could take a shell from a tank and laugh it off.

But before Candice could ask Tiff why an Italian deli’s sausages were better protected than Fort Knox, the men spotted Tiff and hurried out from behind the counter. They removed their funny little hats, wiped their hands on their aprons, and shook Tiff’s hands enthusiastically. They thanked her profusely for her…contributions, which were simply upgrades according to Tiff, but she supposed anybody would be thrown for a loop if they came to work the next day and the whole place received a makeover.

Another notice of repairs from “Core Construction” had appeared (bearing her initials and seal), and Tiff was glad to see her money was well spent. As bizarre as the System was, it was good for its word.

They had asked her reverently (perhaps too reverently) if there was anything Tiff needed, but all she really wanted was a semi-private place to sit down with her friend to conduct…business.

The workers showed them to the back room…which wasn’t hard to find, seeing as they’d been there before and it was the only other door in the small shop besides the obviously designated bathrooms. But Tiff appreciated the gesture and it was a vast improvement to her treatment during her first visit. She supposed the dress had served its purpose after all.

She was also very pleased with the mosaic tiling the System had installed for the back room floor. Since she’d left it up to chance, Tiff didn’t know what to expect. It certainly wasn’t the rather ominous, 16-bit pixelated rendition of her black-and-red blood rose that appeared whenever she summoned her System screens with flair.

Candice froze upon entering the back room, took a good, hard look at the tiling, and stared at Tiff judgmentally. Meanwhile, Amy practically sprinted across the room and engaged a bored-looking thug in a game of air hockey. Currently, she was hustling the poor guy, up two games to one.

Thankfully, the calm classic music the restaurant was piping through their speakers did its job in settling Candice’s nerves. They’d positioned themselves on the magnificent new dress-approved couch so nothing would give them away, even after calling Sugar Rush and putting her on video chat.

“Let’s start looking up those addresses,” Tiff said, tapping her tablet awake. Now that Candice had done the hard work of being sociable, it was time to comb through the city, looking for evidence.

“Sure,” Candice nodded, pushing her notebook close to the tablet. “Since we’re already zoomed in on the restaurant, might as well start nearby….”

And so they did.

Tiff maneuvered the map to give them a bird’s-eye view of the buildings on both sides of the street. At first glance, everything was a little too small to pick up on fine details, and the people were more like little stick figures than actual models with arms and legs. But being this zoomed out let them travel down the roads faster, and they could always zoom in as soon as they reached a point of interest. Their first stop wasn’t actually one of the addresses Sugar Rush gave them, but Haxus’ Phish n Chips. On a whim, Tiff zoomed in.

Poor Haxus was once again being berated by an older woman incapable of understanding technology or retail policy, and Tiff wondered if the main reason Haxus started his blog was to vent his frustrations by ranting about his customers. The shop looked good, better than it had before Tiff threw some basic upgrades its way, and seeing the lack of [Enforcers] trying to make Haxus’ money their money meant she’d held up her side of the bargain. Or at least Victoria had. The VanDyne Protection Services earned top marks…though it might be hard to get them listed on the Better Business Bureau.

Moving away from Phish n Chips, Tiff came across their first Rush-supplied point of interest. This one was a suspected [Enforcer] location, and even though it didn’t have any obvious Metas loafing around waiting to be identified, the building turned red as soon as Tiff backed out and went back to street view.

That was interesting. So far she had several different colors to work with: red, green, and blue. Oh, and the standard black / no color / see-through, default view. Green were her own Controlled Areas, red were Rival Areas, and blue was new. Unknown Point of Interest. Meaning: Tiff knew enough about the location that it wasn’t an innocent, irrelevant Citizen dwelling or shop. It was suspicious enough that Tiff might want to come back later and investigate it more thoroughly once they’d gathered sufficient intelligence.

As they moved down the list, each location updated once Tiff spent an appropriate amount of time studying it. Some places remained blank, a few turned red, and most became blue, as expected. One business, a dry cleaner, turned green, which surprised Tiff. She’d never been there before and didn’t know that it fell under her umbrella, but now that she did, she set it up with the standard “DQ Care Package” of earthquake-proof durability and bulletproof windows.

However…it wasn’t always easy to gather enough information for the System to assign a color, as Tiff had to thoroughly examine over 80% of the building. Both she and Candice felt slightly self-conscious and awkward spying on people’s homes, especially if an apartment was occupied, but they quickly learned to tune out the speech bubbles and treat each room like a hidden object search.

Or a complicated Where’s Waldo.

But instead of a frustratingly absent man in a striped shirt and a bobble hat, they were searching for [Enforcers].

The first time they came across someone who looked like an [Enforcer], it turned out to be a completely wrong guess. Tiff and Candice both got excited and were about to give Sugar Rush a call, but they decided to dig a little deeper.

The “large, beefy guy” they’d seen turned out to be a football player at Hacienda High. While they were technically rivals to Setma, Tiff didn’t think that was a sin worthy of obliteration, and the poor guy didn’t need a Sidekick unleashed upon him in the middle of his noodle carb-binge. Tiff and Candice quickly moved on.

The pair were much more cautious when trying to identify potential [Enforcers] going forward. Perhaps unsurprisingly, LA County had a lot of large people. Not only was there a plethora of gyms dotted everywhere, but there were beaches, clubs, and all sorts of other places people might want to show off their bodies. Not to mention the fact that a lot of people lived there. Once or twice they came across some rather suspicious behavior. Still, nobody was “pressing the business” on some small mom-and-pop shops, and Tiff decided she needed more information before she’d go full-Villain and jump them without due cause.

The first real hit came after almost an hour of scouring Hacienda, when the thrill of the hunt had worn off and Candice broke down and ordered a cannoli. Tiff had moved onto a rundown motel-turned-long-term-living block that looked condemned. It wasn’t one of the big chains like Holiday Inn or even a Motel 6, and half of the windows were boarded up and the doors had eviction notices. If Tiff were a criminal, she’d consider stashing her illicit goods inside a crappy motel.

Now, the interesting thing was that what Tiff found wasn’t technically inside the condemned building itself. She drove the view into each boarded-up room first, and it was pretty much exactly what she expected. Rotted floorboards, decaying furniture, and spots of mold seeping into the walls. The livable spaces weren’t much better, and though nobody was there during Tiff’s search, she couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to live in these rooms. Even if they had nowhere else to go, surely sleeping under the stars would be better for their long-term health? Tiff wouldn’t mess with mold; that crap was dangerous.

But she also understood that shelter was one of the primary basic needs for survival. Any port in a storm was a saying for a reason…though Tiff was pretty sure it wasn’t invented to discuss the merits of living in a rundown motel. She located enough odds and ends for the System to identify [Drugs: Meth] and she felt sick. She called Victoria over, who noted the building to pass along to their dad. Not the drugs Tiff was looking for, and the building was not green, meaning it likely wasn’t influenced by her gang, so she moved on.

Or she was, until something peculiar caught her eye.

The condemned motel had an old basement, which Tiff had snooped around in and found a bunch of roaches. But hidden in one of the back walls was a secret tunnel that dug down into a drainage tube or a sewer tunnel running underground. While Tiff didn’t want to go wading through waste, she was very curious to see that, only a hundred feet or so away from the motel’s entrance…there was an exit into a nearby house.

Now, at one time, the motel had been the first stop after an off-ramp connected to a freeway. But sometime long ago, that exit was decommissioned and moved elsewhere, leaving a large retaining wall between the motel and the neighborhood on the other side. The neighborhood looked relatively normal; nobody would ever have reason to suspect an underground tunnel connected to a random house.

Tiff would even say there might be a chance the people living in the house didn’t even know about it. At a glance, the tunnel connected to a storage room with no doors into the house, as if it had been rebuilt above a shelter that had never been included in the updated floor plans. Inside that small bunker were two things that made Tiff’s skin crawl.

A sterile setup behind a curtain that looked like an operating table, and a large safe containing glowing, blue vials.

When Tiff tried identifying them, all the System would tell her was [???].

“Okay,” she muttered to herself, “If that’s not suspicious, I don’t know what is.”

She called Victoria over, and even the biggest of sisters was stumped.

“I’m no doctor, but I don’t think injecting something like that into your body cures anything,” she said with a frown.

“You think this is something we ask Sugar Rush to investigate?” Tiff asked. Candice thought about it, then eventually shook her head.

“I don’t think so, not yet.”

Tiff glanced at her friend to elaborate, and Candice was happy to oblige.

“Okay, like, for one, Sidekicks need more to go on than a simple hunch to break into somebody’s home,” Candice said, flicking up a single finger, the charms on her bracelet jingling as it slipped down her wrist. “Two, if we do ask her to take a look, she’s gonna wanna know how we found this place. Like, there’s no reason for a couple of kids like us to know it’s there. I don’t even think we could get away with saying Tori found it, ‘cuz like, she’s a [Bodyguard]? Who’d she [Bodyguard] the crap out of to find this?”

“Having her go through the motel might work,” Victoria said, leaning in. “But that’s still breaking and entering. Besides…that access tunnel from the basement looks awfully small. I wouldn’t fit through there…I’m pretty sure Sugar Rush won’t either.”

Tiff and Candice both nodded in understanding. They were the only two who could squeeze into a tight spot.

“What do you think that is, anyway?” Amy asked. “Is that a torture device?”

Candice nearly jumped off the couch; she hadn’t heard the girl walk up. She whipped around and glared at Amy, clutching her chest.

“Don’t sneak up on people!” Candice ground out through clenched teeth. “Don’t you have air hockey to win?”

“Eh, I’m in the winner’s bracket,” she said nonchalantly. Tiff and Victoria both turned to look at their little sister. “What? It’s boring beating the same mook over and over, so we got some new thugs and made a tourney. I’m 4 and 1, so I got seeded.”

Sure enough, behind them all across the room, a whole crowd had gathered around the table. Now that Tiff noticed, she realized the room had grown quite noisy, mostly due to the rambunctious game in progress. She shook her head. At least Amy was entertained.

“Good thing, too,” Amy grinned. “There’s a 50-dollar prize pool. I’ve already made 5 bucks.”

Never mind, strike that from the record. Amy was hustling. Tiff sighed; she didn’t want to know.

“Actually, what’s this?”

Amy pointed to the screen, which had zoomed out after Candice’s jump scare. It had floated over several streets, to an alleyway between a Baskin Robins and an insurance firm. The girls all stared at a very recognizable commotion, which, sadly, nobody else could see.

“That,” Tiff said flatly, “Is somebody getting mugged. Candice,” Tiff said, turning to her friend. “Can you call Sugar Rush?”

“Already on it,” the cheerleader grinned. Indeed, her phone was pressed to her ear and Tiff could hear the faint dial tone ringing.

“Hoy?” Sugar Rush asked, picking up. “Blondie, is that you?”

Candice frowned and quickly pulled the phone away from her ear. She stared at it in disgust before gingerly inching it closer and squinting.

“Sugar Rush, what’s with all that noise? That’s a lot of static!”

Candice raised her voice, even though the harsh sound of wind blasting against the mic was on the other side.

“Not static, girl!” Sugar Rush laughed. “Sorry! Didn’t know my headset got bumped! There, any better?”

The violent wind instantly shut off, making Tiff curious about where the Sidekick was.

“Are you driving?” Candice asked. “Should I call back later?”

“Oh, no!” The girl laughed. “Why drive when you can run? Let me pull over!”

Tiff suddenly had a vision of the plush heroine sticking her arm out in a turn lane like she sometimes saw cyclists do, jogging in place while at a red light.

“Okay, I’m off the road! What’s up? Did you need me to explain again?”

“No, we’re good,” Candice said hastily. They didn’t need another sugar-fueled rant. “We’ve gone through some of your addresses and we’re getting good intel.”

“Really?!” Sugar Rush sounded extremely excited. “So fast! And I know fast! How’d you do that?”

“Trade secret,” Candice said smugly, earning a chuckle from the Speedster. “Now, Rush, where are you? Are you able to respond to an emergency?”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Sugar Rush said sharply, but not unkindly. Her entire demeanor shifted from happy-go-lucky hummingbird to dedicated first responder. “Where do you need me? How can I help?”

Tiff had to give it to the girl; she was made of real hero material. They hadn’t even said a word and she was already raring to go.

“Do you know where 17th and Rosecrans is?” Candice asked. “Somebody is being mugged.”

“Mugged?!” Sugar Rush exclaimed, slightly over the top. “I’m on my way! Do I need backup? I’m no good in a drawn-out fight!”

“I don’t think so,” Tiff said. “There’s only one mugger, but it looks like they chose the wrong target. The victim is fighting back.”

“Go get ‘em!” Sugar Rush cheered, as if she could spur them on across the void. “I’m at Telegraph and Studebaker! Where did you say it was again?!”

“Rosecrans?” Candice said. “Near the Baskin Robins?”

“Oooh,” Sugar Rush said, and if her voice was any indication, she sped up. “I know where that is!”

“Why am I not surprised?” Candice muttered; Tiff and Victoria nodded along.

Looking back at her tablet, Tiff noticed something interesting. A tiny marker, much like Sentinel’s Nemesis icon, popped up for Sugar Rush. Hers was a small pink-and-white circle with cartoonish orange goggles and a big smile. Tiff watched in fascination as it zoomed down the streets at a very impressive speed. She was going so fast that Tiff had to zoom out to keep up with the scrolling.

“Wait,” Tiff muttered to herself. “Isn’t she going the long way?”

Sugar Rush obviously knew where to go…but it was like she’d plugged her directions into a first-generation GPS. One of those units famous for being unable to re-route on the fly and constantly telling people to make a U-turn.

“Hey,” Tiff nudged Candice. “Get her to turn right in two intersections.”

Two…because the Speedster was speeding so speedily she wouldn’t be able to hit the next intersection in time.

“Tiff says turn right at Firestone,” Candice commanded.

“Eh?” Sugar Rush’s confused voice came through, but she did so anyway. She also didn’t slow down.

“Great; now, in a quarter mile, turn left at the light,” Tiff said, unintentionally adding a little inflection to her voice.

Candice slowly turned to stare at her, and by the silence on the other end of the line, Sugar Rush heard her too.

“Okay, Siri,” Candice snarked.

“Hey, you know what? This works too!” Sugar Rush giggled. “Hey, this is totally like having a personal dispatch! Do you have a callsign? Guide me, girl!”

Judging from the wicked grin both her sisters and Candice gave her, Tiff was going to catch a lot of crap for this, wasn’t she?

Oh well. If becoming a remote room inspector didn’t pan out, she could always sign up to give misplaced Sidekicks directions.

¹

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