PROLOGUE!:

Betrothed To A Kabra!

Arthur clenched his fists in anger and suppressed pointing his middle finger at the Kabra couple in front of him. He didn't mind reciting The Periodic Table of Swearing to them or swearing at them every other day in a different language, in front of every camera that watched them, in a monotone ghost voice. That he didn't mind. He practiced that in the mirror at home so he could make sure he had the perfect stink eye ready for every Clue mission.

Now, what Arthur Trent-Cahill did mind was being tortured by megalomaniac couples who were way obsessed with designer clothing, didn't know what 4 squared was, and had more money than Richie Rich - And got away with it! And worst of all, they had kids! Offspring! Little demons that would run all over the world as if it were their little playground with homicidal tendencies like their own parents. They would probably even grow up with some skin disorder that won't let them come in contact with anything poor! It was a Mad Mad World indeed.

Arthur reached his hand over and took his wife's hand. It was dry from staying in the torture chamber/dungeon/whatever the Kabras thought sounded scary. He sighed and rubbed her hand lazily. She was unresponsive. He sighed again, but didn't poke her like he usually did until she shouted at him. She was still pretty mad at him for agreeing to the stupid Kabra's stupid contract, but honestly, it was for the best.

It had all started with a nice surprise visit by Isabel and Vikram Kabra, who gave them the whole villian's "If you don't come with us, we'll kill you" ultimatum. He was pretty sure they were genetically made to be unoriginal. It seemed like everything they tried to make sound painful and torturous had come from a Disney villain's mouth, but modernized. So, yawn.

And they were swarmed by 50 Lucian agents surrounding the house . . .

At least they got something right.

Anyways, they were captured, blindfolded and tossed into air-conditioned Hummers that smelled like floral perfume and blood. After hours of different means of transportation, they finally reached what they supposed was a Lucian stronghold. They had been pushed into a room with the dreaded and awfully cliche Kabra couple. Yes, it was torture already.

That's where it all really began.

The Kabras had proposed one of the stupidest and most disgusting things ever to them. They wanted Amy and their son, Ian, who Arthur reasoned, was a Armani-hyped up homicidal brat, to be betrothed and marry at the age of 21 years. They outright said no, and went through real torture, but didn't budge. Until, that is, Arthur said yes (Actually, it was more explicit and talked about certain people's nannies in a rather nasty manner . . .). But he had his reasons. The Kabras were serious this time. They were ready to force him and Hope to sign it by the time they were on their deathbed, too hallucinated and unaware of reality. There was no getting out without getting killed, and that would just give the Kabras headway on their plan to brainwash Amy and Dan into the hunting the clues for the Lucians and becoming happy little dark and twisted spies who hang out in Russia behind libraries tailing a person you think has a camera in their purse. . .

Yeah. That definitelywas going to happen if the Kabras are left with kids. They would so fail Family Studies.

And why leave Amy and Dan as orphans, prey to their crazy family, without at least teaching them to be good people, and that dropping cyanide into someone's drink is not good? It was utter bogus. But there was either let them be brought up by the Kabras, or get a couple of years to raise their kids properly and love them.

You'd have to be Kabra stupid to get that wrong.

So they both signed the damn contract.

They acted like everything was normal when they got back home; tired, battered, and bruised.

They hugged Amy and Dan and kissed them goodnight every night.

They made pancakes with zucchini curls.

They dressed up like princesses when they went to the grocery store. And no, Dan was manly at the age of 3 and was a ninja that whupped butts.

So when Isabel came to their house, late one night after their hunt in Australia, all they could think was:

It was too damn early.

But all Arthur could think was:

My little girl and boy will call upon their inner strength and kick that boy's Armani ass!

Uh huh.