I was at a crossroads whether or not I should use my 'butterfly palm' or 'butterfly twist' attack. Ben hung by one leg, dragged about by the monstrous bulk of water controlled by Diablo which was a teeny bit frightening. In shiny, repaired armour, Dad was slashing through a hand-shaped mass of dirt that constricted Reed. I heard him teasing the alchemist/magician with "Pajama Party", causing me to roll my eyes. Hotshot, my updated nickname for Johnny ('Hotstuff' was getting old) exuberantly seconded my father's silly name for the villain.

"Just clobber him already!" he snapped at his best friend, his face creased. I heard Reed was absorbed in proving some sciency thing to the bad guy. Diablo's cackling increased whilst he summoned the four elements - wind, rocky earth, water & a fiery beast in pursuit of 'ruling the world'.

I decided on the butterfly palm move, churning out as much fire as I could to cut the rolling stream of water tossing Ben about. It worked!

This was our toughest baddie in a long while, making a sudden appearance in an old historical corner in Central Park. The grounds had been closed off from the public, giving him a glorious opening to do a big ritual involving colourful potions. He waved a hand & Reed & Ben were shoved powerfully by a mix of rock & sand.

Sue yelled for Hotshot to lend a hand regarding the tornado messing up her hair. Both the siblings were airborne; Hotshot flew smack into the twister, an intelligent move that quenched the flame beast hot on his tail. But he flamed off because of the strong gusts - & lost his ability to fly for the moment.

Pajama Party held up the glowing red chalice - likely containing the potion controlling fire. I saw his lips moving swiftly, chanting whatever the ceremony required. I laughed as Hotshot landed onto him perfectly. A most convenient ending of a tiring battle dragging on into the evening. Now I could get home & finish off the last painting in my series I named "Flavour", as Ben was doing dinner, not me. I thought it time to make my way to my teammates, conjecturing what funny thing Johnny was about to say.

"You ruined the ceremony! Gahhh!" Diablo flung his empty chalice to the ground.

"Sorry. Geez…," said Hotshot. He was laughably coated in bright red spilt liquid. Only I wasn't privy to what that fluid would do to him.

Unfortunately, we didn't know our baddie was part ninja or something. A shiny green bead he fingered in his hand, before he blew it up & vanished in an icky smoke cloud.

"I NEED A SHOWER!" the lab shook, much to my amusement. We had to teach my boyfriend to keep his calm.

Meanwhile, Reed went on about Pajama Party who was apparently aged a few centuries. Dad & I had no trouble believing that because of the spirituality part of our lifestyle; Reed was the difficult guy debating with Dad & Ben about the existence of magic. Sue & I just threw glances at each other & enjoyed the little argument. Following the biological scans that concluded Johnny wasn't displaying odd effects of the potion, we got Hotshot down from the gurney at last.

I figured I'd accompany him to his room, just to hang around & make my draft sketch of the painting & take a look at his stuff… * cough cough * while he washed off the red goo in the bathroom. He wanted to hold my hand on the way there, but something invisible warned me about the very luminous stuff covering him.

"Nuh-uh-uh…you're a freaky glowing guy. No touching," I jerked away.

"Okay, okay."

I hope I didn't hurt him, pondering his action of letting me into his 'home within the home'. What I found so desirable in him was kindness that manifested itself at the unlikeliest of moments.

"Be out in a bit," he told me. Something interesting flickered in his eyes as he headed for the shower. He slid the washroom door shut & I snapped into a little nosiness…

First was the wall. Hmmmmm. A oldish poster of some 60s rocker, slanted on purpose, probably. So he fancied music where prominent percussion featured. To the right of that: a guy snowboarding, with his signature at the top right corner. Extreme sports, huh? That's tantamount to fun. I didn't bother with the third poster showing some snowy panorama scene. It reminded me of boring old China.

Snatching a glance at his blanket, I took in its red colour for a sec before thinking, Too bad; I like BLUE. I ventured to see what books he read - aside from Hot Rod mags, duhhh. Astounded as I was to discover they were mostly sketchbooks, even sweeter were his etches & sketches. Not detailed, but conveying the artist's intentions clearly. A lot of them were Ben tangled in all kinds of comical predicaments, though those took up the front portion of the book. At the back, his depictions were under the personal category. Except a noise interrupted me as I was about to digest those pictures. Hotshot made a panicky sound from the bathroom.

"You okay?"

No response. I waited ten seconds, then opened the door.

"Ohhhhhhh."

He'd melted the floor & fallen through. The loo had boiling water leaking out, & the shower tap was now semi-solid. Half of it was funny, but not for long. I rushed to the dining area where the rest were.