The Fner was a man of impeccable taste. His penthouse suite in New York City was the epitome of luxury, with a view of the skyline unlike any other, vish furniture, and the fi food and drink money could buy. It was his new base. He had already discovered that Silver's jet was st seen in New York. So, over the week, his men would arrive and then they would start their hunt. In the meantime, he po expand his rea the city. Little did he know, it was about to bee his personal hell.

  [Day 1]

  The first day began like any other day. The Fner woke up groggy from a fitful night's sleep filled with wacky dreams. He couldn't quite pce his finger on it, but something didn't feel right. Brushing it aside as jet g, he ordered a vish breakfast from room service.

  Unbeknownst to him, Chat had already acted. Calling upon her unique power of talking to animals, she had enlisted the pigeons-not New York's official spies, but its de facto ohe birds had taken turns dropping tiny little parcels of tasteless xative into his food through the open window of the kit when the chef wasn't looking. By the time he finished his breakfast, he was he wiser.

  The effects were almost immediate. Just as he began his m call with his associates, he felt a sudden, sharp cramp in his stomach. He doubled over, clutg his abdomen.

  "Sir, is everything all right?" one of his men asked, his voice crag over the phone.

  "I. I have to go. Now," The Fner cut off the call in mid-sentence as he ran into the bathroom. For the hour, the would-be assassin sat ooilet, cursing bad luck.

  [Day 2]

  Emma decided to join the fun on the sed night. She used her telepathic ability to slip into The Fner's dream. What began as a peaceful slumber soon became a nightmare. He was standing in the middle of ay battlefield a his pants got heavy with droplets of wet, sagging down; he looked down and realized with horror—he was just wearing a diaper.

  "What the fuck?!" He was surprised. The dream was too real.

  Then came the sneering ughter of some sharks. Then, to his plete and utter shock, a shark literally, wearing a butler's suit, swam at him through the air. "Look at the big, bad assassin. Who needs a diaper ge?" It teased.

  In the dream, The Fries to run, but his legs feel like they are stu quid. This time, the shark ss jaws pyfully, aiming straight at his groin. "Motherfucker!" He screamed clutg his crotd awoke drenched in cold sweat a thrumming. He checked his pants-it was dry, thank goodness-but the memory of the dream g to him.

  As he tried to pose himself, he caught the sound of a very soft g from the window. Behind the somewhat shut-up-with-sleep and somewhat shut-up-with-rubbing eyelids, he could see one pigeon sitting on the ledge of the window, staring at him as if full of pity. He groaned, rubbing his eyes again. "I am going crazy," he mumbled.

  [Day 3]

  Ohird day, The Fner's paranoia had spread around. He ordered his food from an outside vendor, presumably suspeg that the hotel's kit had been promised. In the meanwhile, however, Chat's birds made another delivery, this time with xatives repced with a co that produced severe ftulence.

  He was attending a video ference call with a potential t. His gut told him something was brewing. He held his breath for some time, hoping it would just go away. His t was in the middle of saying something when suddenly a very loud fart resonated in the air.

  There was a very awkward silence for a while.

  "Did you hear that?" The Fammered, his eyes twitched as he took out his dagger and pced it oable.

  The t coughed, clearly trying to suppress ughter. "I. uh, thought it was a dog barking."

  "Yes, a dog," agreed The Fner hastily, though there was no dog in sight. He ehe call abruptly, burying his fa his hands.

  [Day 4]

  That night, Emma escated the war. As The Fner drifted into an uneasy sleep, she sent him into anhtmare. This time he stood in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by New York's elite. He wore an impeccable suit, but as he stepped forward to make his grarance, he felt a sudden warm wetness spreading down his legs.

  His eyes hit the floor as he felt himself wetting his pants in public. It was the ughingstock of the lot. Everyone gasped aed into a chorus of ughter. He looked up, his face afme with embarrassment, only to lock eyes on a humanoid female shark wearing a red gown, standing in the er, champagne gss in hand, and smirking.

  "Looks like someone's had too much to drink," The shark said, mock-cheering with his gss.

  The Fner woke with a poundi. He instinctively reached beh his covers to ched sighed in relief, still dry, but he just couldn't help feeling mortified.

  [Day 5]

  By the fifth day, The Fner was visibly wasting away. His men were worried by their boss's sudden dee and attempted to cheer him up, but they were als a little better. Emma had been visiting the men eaight, filling their sleep with ridiculous, humiliating sarios. One man dreamed that squirrels chasing him through tral Park; another awoke screaming about a druggie granny dragging him to marry him.

  Meanwhile, Chat's birds were still carrying out their stealth work. At the team briefing, The Fner felt annawing pain in his stomach. This time around, he hardly made it to the bathroom on time. With head in hand, he sat there when he heard a loud thud ohroom door.

  "Bosss! It's an emergency!!" one of his men hollered in panic.

  "What now?!!" The Fner shouted opening the door.

  A sale man. "Someone is pying games with us. A freaking telepath, I think. I... I had a dream. Too real for a dream... A shark bit off my—"

  He froze, looking embarrassed.

  "Your what?"

  "My balls, sir," he whispered, looking down in shame.

  The Fner's eyes widened. "You too!!"

  [Day 6]

  On the sixth day, the team finally went crazy. The Fner summoned an emergency session to find out who was behind this bizarre of events. They sat at the table, and he o them to speak, and then, three pigeons nded on the windowsill, peg on the gss.

  He narrowed his eyes to look at it.

  "Am I halluating or are these birds everywhere tely?

  No sooner did the Fner begin to get his answer out than, out of malid mog them, the pigeo out a loud coo. The Fner, riled up further, lu the window, waving his arms in an attempt to swish it away, but in an attempt to do so slipped on a discarded dot and fell ft on his back.

  His men ran to his side, but it was too te. The stoic, ruthless assassin now y on the flroaning in agony as he shat in his pants and surrounded by a flock of g pigeons. He knew he was defeated, not by force, but by humiliation.

  From the penthouse across the street, Emma and Chat watched through binocurs, ughing like schoolgirls. "I think it's about time for the grand finale," Emma said with a grin.

  Chat nodded enthusiastically. "It's time to take him in to meet Mr. Shark."

  And that night, The Fner had his st bad dream. He found himself in the diaper, with sneering witnesses all around. The shark reappeared, jaws snapping as it gri him. But this time he wore a white chef's hat instead of a butler's suit.

  "Last meal," the shark inquired, its tongue lolling out over sharp teeth. "Your jewels are mine."

  The Fner screamed, clutg his groin, and woke up yet again drenched in a cold sweat. He could take no more. He reached for his phone, shaking as he dialed the number for Silver Sable.

  "I. I surrender," he stuttered. "Just make it stop!"

  "Drop dead," came the curt reply, and the li dead.

  The , a portal opened under his boby and he fell down the hole only to nd before Silver Sable, in a reinforced room. There were only two of them and no door or a way out.

  "What the?" The Fner gasped.

  "It's time to settle the score," she said. She didn't even have to raise her voice; her eyes were ice cold. He had o run. "In this room, your hypnotism has no effect. And you know what else?"

  She took out her dagger, "I'm so gonna enjoy slig you up food."

  She lunged forward, aiming at his throat, but he deflected her blow with a swish of his dagger. He was surprisingly agile, but so was she. Their daggers cshed again and again. It was a fierce battle of wits, strength, and speed. He tried to use his hypnosis powers, but to his dismay, they failed him. He was truly trapped.

  He was already exhausted after a week of torture, mentally and physically, and it showed. After a while, he made a misstep. She knocked him back with a powerful blow and sshed him across the cheek. Blood spurted from the cut and onto the floor. She kicked him hard aumbled backward, smming against the wall with a groan.

  Silver Sable swooped down, taking out anger and smming them on his feet over and ain at a blinding speed, the off his tendons, rendering him immobile. The Fner howled in agony. He tried to get up, but his legs refused to obey. He saw his doom ing straight toward him.

  "How does it feel? To be on the edge of life ah?" She smirked, stomping on his knees.

  With a ch, his kneecaps shattered. He screamed, his body vulsing in pain. "I... I give up! You win!"

  "A... What a shame," she snickered. "But I was never ied in your surrender."

  "Please..." he begged. "Let me go!"

  "No, but I'll let you in on a little secret," She leaned in and whispered in his ear. "I found out about your pn on our wedding night. And remember our first sex? Blindfolded and strapped onto the bed... Guess, who rode you that night and the days after?" She took out a tiny voice modutor from her pocket.

  "You bitch! You did not!" Even on the death's door, he couldn't believe his ears.

  "You're right, I didn't," Silver kicked his balls hard.

  "GAHHHH!!!"

  "But those diseased whores sure did enjoy the ride," she sneered, "So many STDs. Tsk tsk. How's that for your wedding gift, honey?"

  "It was you!?" He passed out on the spot.

  Silver Sable looked at the defeated Fner and ughed. "Goodbye, you little worm."

  She bent down and stabbed the dagger into his throat, before slig it wide open. The blood gurgled out of his mouth as he vulsed. Finally, he stopped moving, and the st of his lifeblood seeped out onto the floor.

  A portal opened aer ehe room. He walked over to Silver and looked at her with a raised brow, "You py Mortal Kombat?"

  "What I say?" She shrugged. "I got bored while waiting for him to call."

  "Well, dang! Did you really give him STDs?" Peter asked.

  "Yup! Ied him with a bunch of nasty diseases and halluatis. It was really hard to keep things in order back then, thankfully, a telepath helped me back then," She ed her daggers and put them ba their holsters. Then she spat on the dead guy. "He should have never messed with my family."

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