DoNotExist:	::walks up, whistling::  Hey. 
Krissy 80:	::stares at the FILA logo on Renie's shirt:: sell 
		out.
DoNotExist:	::looks down, shrieks in terror, and rips the thing 
		off::  HOw?  WHat?!!  What're you talking about?!
Krissy 80:	::looks at Renie, amused::  hey, there's one on your 
		bra too....
Krissy 80:	I suggest you don't rip that off.
Krissy 80:	this *IS* a PG-13 log, after all...
DoNotExist:	 That's the brand.  " Lovable.  "  So THERE.  And 
		I'm not giving you a free show!  
DoNotExist:	Hmph.  What's YOUR problem?  
Krissy 80:	::squints at it::  it says "FILA."  
DoNotExist:	It does not, what the hell are you talking about?
Krissy 80:	look at it!
DoNotExist:	Oh, that's just a coffee stain.  I just came from 
		work. 
Krissy 80:	yeah, right.  what, you run around work in your bra? 
		you just won't admit it because even you have 
		decency. 
DoNotExist:	No, I don't get good enough tips for that.  But the 
		stuff sprays everywhere, it goes through the shirt.  
Krissy 80:	whatever.  you still sold us out.  
Krissy 80:	I wonder if Rob noticed...
DoNotExist:	::looks puzzled::  Honestly, what the hell are you 
		talking about?  If this is about me stealing your 
		underwear and selling to comic shops, well, umm... 
DoNotExist:	It was Rob's idea.  YEah, that's it.  He's the one 
		who stole 'em.
DoNotExist:	I just provided the PR.  Yeah. 
Krissy 80:	excuse me????  ::looks down, then pulls the 
		wasteband of her pants out a bit:: holy shit!!!  
		where the hell my underwear go???
Krissy 80:	I need it! where else will I put the pantyliners???
Krissy 80:	::grabs Renie:: I don't wanna go commando!
DoNotExist:	It generates tons of revenue for our group, plus 
		publicity!  The ones with your name written in 'em 
		are especially popular.  

		Umm...  You kinda don't have any pantyliners, 
		either...
DoNotExist:	::pulls head into shoulders, cringing::
Krissy 80:	um... I don't write my name in my underwear!!!  
		::throws Renie against the wall and runs off to her 
		dresser to look for underwear::  
DoNotExist:	Well, the signature on your contract was really 
		easy to copy... 
DoNotExist:	::rubbing hurt back::
Krissy 80:	::looks up from digging through drawers:: what 
		contract? I haven't signed anything!
DoNotExist:	What?!  *I* had to sign a contract!  ROB!!!!
DoNotExist:	Where is he?!
Krissy 80:	::pushes aside a stack of socks:: hey, wait a 
		minute... ::pulls out a stack of clean panties::  
		if you sold my underwear, what the hell is this?
Krissy 80:	::runs into bathroom to put them on::
DoNotExist:	::raises head slowly, eyes wide in horror and 
		realization::  
DoNotExist:	::dashes to own dresser::  
DoNotExist:	That motherfucker!  All I have left with is men's 
		now!!  How can I be androgynous if I wear only men's 
		underwear!  Son of a... 
Krissy 80:	::yells from bathroom:: and who took my underwear 
		off??? ::pulls off carpenter pants:: wait a minute...  
		I'm wearing a g-string.
Krissy 80:	why am I wearing a g-string...?
DoNotExist:	::shudders at the image mometarily:: 
DoNotExist:	I dunno, why?
Krissy 80:	::thinks about it:: oh, now I remember.  It was the 
		only clean pair.  ::puts on normal, cotton Jockeys 
		and walks out of the bathroom::  Sorry.  Didn't mean 
		to yell.  And that stolen underwear thing is  just  
		too  bad.
Krissy 80:	sucks to be you.
DoNotExist:	WEll, I'm mad.  That was MY underwear!
DoNotExist:	MY personal propertty!
DoNotExist:	I feel so violated!!
Krissy 80:	when do you don't?
DoNotExist:	And there I was, carrying those packages off to the 
		shops, mentally complimenting you on your taste in 
		undergarments..
Krissy 80:	you still can.  look at this polka dot pattern!
Krissy 80:	::turns to show her::
Krissy 80:	it's pointillistic.
DoNotExist:	Yech.  No where near as elegant as my simple solids. 
DoNotExist:	Your butt?
Krissy 80:	I have those too.  Look! ::pulls out black, navy 
		blue, light blue::
Krissy 80:	and no, the underwear!
DoNotExist:	Nice....  ::touches the fabric lightly, takes it 
		from her hands::  
Krissy 80:	see? ::tugs on it::
DoNotExist:	Hey, you look about my size...  Umm, would you...  
		I mean, can I..  Er...  I don't mean to sound like 
		a pervert or anythinig, but may I get into your 
		panties?
Krissy 80:	you ARE a pervert.  you can't sound like anything 
		else.  and not to sound like a horny lesbian (not 
		that there's anything wrong with that), you can get 
		into my panties.  ::hands Renie the black ones::  
		and..um... I don't really want them back.  really.
DoNotExist:	Thanks...  I know we'll just come out of this 
		experience close to each other.  

		Now let's go kill Rob. 
Krissy 80:	Hey, hey, I don't go for those back door shenanigans!  
		I mean, murder is bad...  
DoNotExist:	Yes.  But he stole our uderwear!  WEll, my 
		underwear.  But he told me it was your underwear.  
Krissy 80:	and why should I help you???
DoNotExist:	Because he's keeping all the profits from the sold 
		underwear in his bank account.
Krissy 80:	But you're keeping the profits from all the stupid 
		logo placement. ::looks around the room, and studies 
		an ad for Trojan Condoms::  that really *must* go.  
		it clashes with the rug.
DoNotExist:	Jeez, what are you talking about?  You've been 
		mentioning this all night, what the hell is going on?
Krissy 80:	::grabs Renie's fragile skull and directs toward the 
		corporate logos that line the walls of the HQ::  
		what do *those* look like???
DoNotExist:	Um, corporate logos.  Why?
DoNotExist:	Was it career day and I missed it?
Krissy 80:	Did it ever occur to you that as a ::ahem:: 
		superheroic institution, we are required to abide 
		by a particular moral code?
DoNotExist:	Sure, but we get to make up our own and alter it at 
		will.
Krissy 80:	well, yeah.  of course.  ::grabs Renie again::  are 
		you aware that one of the dictums was "Do not sell 
		out to da man?"
DoNotExist:	What man?
DoNotExist:	You mean, like when you engaged in phone sex with 
		that sleazy electronics store guy??
Krissy 80:	you know, the man man.  authority.  the 
		oppressors...  and he wasn't sleazy!!! he was 
		just... very, very, lonely.
DoNotExist:	As were you, I gather. 
DoNotExist:	Oppressors?
DoNotExist:	::doesn't get this at ALL::
Krissy 80:	oh, you know... the white male oppressors.  adults, 
		I guess.  the man!!!  and you sold out to them!!!  
		::runs into office, frantically pulling papers out 
		of a filing cabinet, looking for the contract:: ah, 
		here it is!
Krissy 80:	see?
DoNotExist:	::peers at the papers.  much small print::  What?
Krissy 80:	It says they can do whatever they want with the HQ!  
		I'd be surprised if they don't "Real World" us and 
		broadcast the security tapes!  uh oh.... ::turns on 
		the new bulletproof wide screen TV::
DoNotExist:	Wait...  So what you mean to say is  ::very slowly:: 
		someone sold the rights to the JLS to major 
		corporations?  

		But why?  And for how much?
Krissy 80:	What, you don't know? I mean, your name IS on the 
		contract..  see? ::holds out the sheet to Renie::
Krissy 80:	::flips the TV channel to see the two of them with 
		an unconscious Rob:: oh.. shiiiiiit.....
DoNotExist:	Um...  That's not my name.  Some dickmunch 
		misspelled it.  It's Irena, not Irina, contrary to 
		popular belief.  
DoNotExist:	I think I might know who is behiond this... 
DoNotExist:	Just think for a second:  Who do we know that is a 
		notoriously bad speller?
DoNotExist:	::voice is hushed, penetrating::
Krissy 80:	bad speller?  um, aren't we all?
DoNotExist:	It's a great conspiracy!
DoNotExist:	Then we are all suspects.  Except me.  It stands to 
		reason that I can spell my own name.
Krissy 80:	hey, I am innocent!!!  ::scream to the heavens:: why 
		God, why!!!
Krissy 80:	::stops suddenly:: hey, I can spell your name.
DoNotExist:	Just imagine, the people watching us on TV right now 
		are probably placing bets on who really did it.
DoNotExist:	::blinks.  dashes to her room and putsa a shirt on::  
		Yeesh.  
Krissy 80:	my God, look, look... ::the television shows the pair 
		playing dress-up with Rob:: it's the missing security 
		tapes!
Krissy 80:	::runs after her and drags her out again:: look..  
		::the channel shows the entire Masochrist incident::
Krissy 80:	do you know what *that* means???
DoNotExist:	That I can never pick my nose agin, except at night, 
		under the covers, untill we get rid of these bugs?
Krissy 80:	um, do the words "Masochrist" "murder" and "us" have 
		any meaning to you?
Krissy 80:	in that order???
DoNotExist:	But isn't he dead?  Besides, he likes you.  
Krissy 80:	I know, I know.. but you forget, he's merely an 
		anthropomorphic personification.  he comes when 
		needed.  and if he doesn't, I'm sure Rob can do it 
		on his own...
Krissy 80:	lets hope he isn't watching this...
DoNotExist:	But why?  I mean, I understand the underwear and the 
		advertising contracts, we're all broke here, but why 
		kill us?  
Krissy 80:	we're assuming all of this IS Rob at work... or 
		rather, you're assuming...
DoNotExist:	I'm not assuming, I'm trying to figure this out.  
		Damn, I knew I shouldn't have wasted my time on 
		Stephen King while all the other nerds were reading 
		mystery novels.
Krissy 80:	::hands Renie some Charlie Chan novels and runs off 
		to the lab::  Now where did I put that... aha! 
		::pulls out her Agatha Christie Lil' British 
		Detective Kit::  
DoNotExist:	Um.
Krissy 80:	we'll cover all grounds! we'll look high and low!  
		we'll look IN the High and Low!  we will solve this 
		mystery, within a convenient 45 period! (Plus 15 
		minutes of commercials)
DoNotExist:	All that, and more, on the next  Adventures of JLS!