By Matt from The Spoon.

Kyra wanted badly to kill Suzanne Stone because Kyra had spent many years living in prison without much food or Oxygen — the TV channel and not the element (her prison guards were mean and spiteful but not that mean) — and meanwhile Suzanne Stone (she recently dropped the Maretto) got to seduce young boys and kill off husbands to her heart’s content. This may not sound like a good reason to kill someone to you or me but women in prison have very little to do except fantasize about killing people and maybe building friends out of excess hair and nail clippings.

First Kyra needed to arm herself. She knew from her pen-pal O-Ren Ishii that the best place to find anything (including extensive shiv collections with matching his and hers bath mats) was Target. Unfortunately, Kyra had very little money because she had been too busy surviving a harsh penal colony filled with murderers and rapists to pay much attention to her stock portfolio. So instead of going to Target, Kyra hung her head in shame and shuffled across the street to Wal-Mart.

Kyra didn’t like Wal-Mart very much because the constant moaning of underpaid workers reminded her of prison, but she knew that some sacrifices had to be made if you wanted to kill somebody, and, besides, Wal-Mart had some good deals on American spears that were much better than those crappy spears made in Singapore that always gave you splinters right when you were about to impale somebody’s genitals. Kyra found the spears in the back next to a box of marked-down Dixie Chicks CDs.

The Dixie Chicks happened to be Kyra’s favorite band (they were played 24/7 over an intercom back in prison to screw with all the inmates who had good taste) so she was flipping through a pile of their CDs marked down to $17.99 from an original price of $19.99 for an incredible $2.00 savings when she noticed that the moaning throughout the store had shifted subtly from the breathless sighs of the downtrodden to the breathless sighs of the aroused. Then Kyra heard a crackling over the store’s PA system.

“Hello, Kyra.” It was that saucy minx Suzanne Stone.

“I have no interest in you, but since you are a crazy, psychotic she-dog who has spent years plotting my death, and this would negatively impact my television career, I must kill you. Because I have the clear upper hand and you are not James Bond, I will tell you how you will die without fear that you will use this knowledge to overcome the odds and defeat me.”

The PA system registered a tinkle of feedback as Suzanne Stone cleared her throat.

“With my expertise in Spanish and Esperanto, I have promised nasty sexual favors to all the male employees at Wal-Mart in exchange for your head. To the women I have promised a fifty-cent raise. Do not bother reasoning with them because they do not know English nor do they have any interest in learning. Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart.”

Kyra screamed in rage and snarled like a cornered badger that has banged its knee against a coffee table and is really, really irritable. She was ready to go howler monkey on Suzanne and her minimum-wage cronies.

Within seconds, a ring of panting, mean-looking people circled Kyra. Most of them had cut up their blue Wal-Mart aprons into masks that covered their entire faces except for their eyes but some of the younger men with nicer physiques had taken off their clothes and converted their aprons into make-shift loin cloths. Two such men, their junk nestled in their aprons, broke from the circle and rushed at Kyra. She calmly pulled out two Dixie Chicks CDs from their cases (Top of the World Tour: Live and Wide Open Spaces, in case you were wondering) and sliced off their heads. Blood splattered everywhere and completely soaked their work aprons so that their corpses were sure to get scolded by their supervisor once he saw how unprofessional they looked.

The ring of snarling Wal-Mart employees blinked at the two headless corpses and then looked over to the Girl’s Clothing Department where Suzanne Stone was being carried by a group of hench people on a Human Touch HT-135 Massage Chair (Retail Price: $2,399.00). Suzanne pulled out a roll of quarters with one hand and in the other she licked a chocolate fudge-sickle with lascivious delicacy. Appropriately motivated, the ring of hench persons tightened their circle because they have needs just like you and me.

Kyra killed Suzanne’s minions first with the remaining Dixie Chicks CDs (mostly Taking the Long Way but a few Shouldn’t a Told You That’s were also in the mix) then she switched to the spears with the Made-in-America stickers. She was more than a match for any number of Wal-Mart employees, but this was possibly the first time in history that every employee in the store was not hiding in the corners avoiding the manager and actually participating in a group effort even if the goal was killing Kyra.

Minutes passed and Kyra began sweating heavily because it was very tiring work killing lots and lots of people with golf clubs, desk lamps, and bottles of potpourri. Every so often Suzanne’s underlings would wonder if a naughty act or fifty-cent raise was worth facing the grimy, sweaty howler-monkey-like Kyra. But then they’d glance back at their manager-in-training and she would flash five dollar bills and twist a cherry stem into a knot using only her tongue and they’d hunker down and press forward.

After another hour had passed, Suzanne Stone’s remaining henchmen had entered such a heightened state of sexual arousal that the sweaty, musk-heavy Kyra was turning them on. They pushed forward again and again, rubbing themselves up and down Kyra’s lubricated body and it felt surprisingly good, especially after such a long and tiring fight.

A camera crew showed up a short time later and Suzanne Stone put her five dollar bills back into her wallet, spit out all the cherry stems in her mouth, and got off her Human Touch HT-135 Massage Chair. She grabbed a microphone from one of the tech guys and faced the camera.

“This is Suzanne Stone reporting from a downtown Wal-Mart where a bedraggled woman with horribly thick calves and numerous split ends was found dead in the Electronics Department. According to witnesses she expired due to a mass dry-humping that was equally painful and humiliating.”

Then Suzanne Stone smiled the smile of a woman who has seduced an entire store of Wal-Mart employees with naughty promises and pocket change into killing a hated enemy. It was actually a pretty sexy smile.

————-

By Nick from Random Ramblings of a Demented Doorknob.

After the annoying and unproductive visit to France, Kyra decided to hop back on her ship and fly back into the unknown. Unfortunately, as she started going up, up, and away, her ship began to run out of fuel, and she was forced to crash land in some place called Idaho. It was awful. She had no idea where to get fuel for her ship on this primitive-technology planet, so she did the only thing any respectable researcher on this lowly planet would do: she got onto a computer and used a mix of Google and Wikipedia.

After her research, Kyra discovered that the only place that she could possibly get the type of fuel she needed would be in Houston, Texas at a place called NASA. But she saw the price-tag on the fuel, as well, and didn’t have nearly that much money (she didn’t have any, really). So using her handy Google and Wikipedia, Kyra did more research to try to find a way to make a quick buck. And then she saw it: They were about to start preparing their next season of Survivor, a reality show where the winner receives a million dollars.

I can do that, Kyra thought. I’ve survived alien monsters, mercenaries, and cold-blooded murderers. I think I can handle myself on an island for a month. So she sent in her audition tape (mostly of herself skimping around in a bikini she stole from a local clothing store and saying how she could kick everybody’s ass) and waited anxiously for the results. And then it came. She was in!

When the day finally came, Kyra put on her bikini and the clothes over the top, making sure to hide random weaponry/knives within her clothes. She flew in a giant metal thing called an airplane (It seemed twice as big as her ship, which confused her). When she got there, she was greeted by a man named Jeff on a large boat that took them out to sea. After a few more hours of travel, this time by sea, Jeff finally got up to speak to everybody.

“Hello everyone! We’re going to be doing something… a little different this season. As you may have noticed, there are numerous smaller islands around. You will each be partnered up with one other person, and each pairing will be living alone on a separate island. You must rely fully on each other if you want to survive in this game. Welcome to Survivor: Partners!”

The next thing Kyra knew, she was being teamed up with some older blonde lady. She had overheard her talking with some other people on the ship. Her name was Suzanne something-or-other, and she used to be in television. However, she had gotten fired from her job a while back and needed some extra cash. So she pulled a few strings from some network friends and got a spot on the new season of Survivor. Kyra knew she was already going to hate her.

The pairings were split up and shipped off to their respective islands. Once upon their own island, Suzanne immediately started barking orders.

“I think we should start building a place to stay. Once it starts raining, everything will be a mess. You should find the water and…” She kept going on and on, and Kyra simply rolled her eyes, ignoring her. There was no way she would be able to stand a month on this island with this woman. “So remember,” Suzanne was ending, “We have to outwit, outplay, outlast!”

Kyra smiled and nodded.

Day 4

Luckily, Kyra had been able to use her insane agility to get them through the first immunity challenge, so they were able to make it through to the next round. Unfortunately, now all she was hearing was how they were outlasting this and outplaying that. This woman never shut up.

Day 12

“Seriously,” Kyra said to the private camera. “I’m going to kill her. I’d rather be in locked up in Butcher Bay than have to spend another minute with her.”

Day 23

There was a merge! Finally, Kyra can talk to other people besides this fucking woman. Hopefully she can make another alliance.

Day 24 - Night

“That f**king b*tch tried to have me voted off!” Kyra growled at the private cam. “I’m seriously THIS close to killing her… if it wouldn’t screw up my chances of winning the million, I would.”

The Final Tribal Council Votes Revealing

Kyra, by some miracle, had made it to the final 3… unfortunately, so did Suzanne and some guy named Steve. Jeff was standing up. The live audience was cheering and awaiting the votes. Jeff opened the urn-thing and pulled out the first vote.

“Kyra!” Jeff announced. The crowd cheered. “Suzanne! Steve! Kyra! Suzanne! I’m sorry, Steve, that means you’re out of the running. It’s now between Kyra and Suzanne.” Jeff pulled out the next slip. “Kyra!” There was a pause as he pulled out the final vote. “And the winner of Survivor: Partners… Kyra!”

Kyra leapt out of her seat cheering. She had done it! She had beaten the game. But most importantly…

Kyra pulled out a knife from under her shirt and stabbed Suzanne Maretto in the face. “Outlived you, bitch!”

And that’s how Kyra beat Suzanne Maretto at both Survivor and in battle (What, like Suzanne had a chance?).

From The Faded Silver Screen.

Wash is sitting in the cockpit of the spaceship Serenity when an alarm suddenly sounds. He rushes over to the alarm console, frowning at the flashing orange light. He radios Mal, who is outside performing a spacewalk with several other crewmembers.

“Just as a warning, Mal, your oxygen is at the two hour mark,” Wash says over the intercomm system.

“Noted,” Mal says, his voice muffled by crackly interference. “We’ll be just a few more minutes. Kaylee and Jayne are finishing up some last-minute welding on the armaments.”

“Roger that,” Wash says, switching off the intercomm. He continues playing with his dinosaur toys. There isn’t much else to do, since his wife Zoe is holed up in sick bay — courtesy of a broken leg — and the rest of the crew is outside in zero G, helping with maintenance procedures. The civilians are all one shore leave, so there isn’t even them to talk to.

Several minutes later, someone calls out from the hallway, “Hey Wash, could you help me with this?” Wash looks up, hearing a muffled thump outside the cockpit.

“Sure thing,” Wash says, assuming that it’s Kaylee, the ship’s mechanic, having just completed the spacewalk and maintenance repairs. He walks out into the hall, and…THUD! He falls to the deck as someone swings heavy metal piping into the back of his head. Wash groans and looks up at his attacker. It is a tall, blonde-haired woman, dressed in pearls and fancy evening wear, brandishing a piece of metal piping. Wash doesn’t realize it now, but he has just been attacked by Suzanne Maretto, a duplicitous housewife-turned-killer.

“Wha-whaddya do that for?” Wash says. He groans as Suzanne digs her high heel into his back, and ties his arms behind him.

“Because it needed to be done,” Suzanne says. “Two days ago, some sort of space/time portal deposited me here, on this spaceship. I’m from Earth. New Hampshire, specifically, in the year 1995. Initially when I got here I freaked out, but then I decided to use the situation to my advantage. I hid myself in the mess hall, and I’ve been spying on all your conversations ever since. With most of your crew out doing this spacewalk thing, I figured it was the time to strike.”

“And how do you expect to use this situation to your advantage? Do you even know how to pilot a ship?”

Suzanne pauses for a moment. “I’m making it up as I go along.” Wash is about to say something else, but then she shoves a wad of cloth in his mouth to gag him.

One hour later, Zoe wakes up in sickbay to a call from Mal. He and the other crewmembers are trapped outside the ship, and they only have one hour of oxygen left in their spacesuits! Zoe radios the cockpit, but no reply. She informs Mal that there is presumably a sabotaging intruder aboard, and that she will take care of things. She grabs her crutches, a personal intercomm device, and a nearby handgun, and heads out the door…

WHACK! Zoe falls to the floor, dropping her handgun and intercomm device. She fights back a groan as her broken leg buckles under her.

“This is almost too easy,” Suzanne says, standing above Zoe with the metal pipe. She steps on Zoe with her heel, preparing to bind and gag her. Except that Zoe has no such thing in mind…Before Suzanne has time to react, Zoe grabs one of her crutches and slams it upward, catching Suzanne hard in the stomach. Suzanne grunts and falls backward. Zoe rolls over and is up on her good leg, but in that same moment Suzanne has also had time to get up, and is now swinging her metal pipe straight into Zoe’s face. Zoe ducks and grabs the piping, wrestling it from Suzanne’s grasp. Suzanne kicks Zoe’s bad leg, and she crumples again. This time, Suzanne has the sense to grab Zoe’s handgun and her intercomm device. She pistol whips Zoe in the face, and finally the first mate is knocked unconscious.

“Zoe? Zoe? Status update!” Mal’s voice crackles over the intercomm device.

“I’ll give you a status update,” Suzanne says. “This is Suzanne Maretto of the planet Earth. I don’t know who the hell you are, but from now on this is my ship. All of you are my hostages.”

“Suzanne, this is Malcolm Reynolds, and I am the captain of this spaceship,” Mal says sternly. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but there’s only one person in charge of the Serenity and that’s me.”

“Empty words from someone in such a tricky situation,” Suzanne says. “I’ve captured your first mate and your pilot. Good luck getting out of this situation.”

Mal has more angry words to say, but Suzanne shoves the intercomm device in her pocket. She leans over the inert Zoe, listening to see if the other woman is still breathing. This turns out to be her crucial mistake. Zoe’s eyes flash open, and in the same moment she pulls a knife out of a secret pocket. She plunges the knife into Suzanne’s abdomen. Suzanne gives a horrific scream, then is silent.

Zoe crawls over and picks up the intercomm device. “Mal this is Zoe. Situation is under control. Repeat, situation is under control.”

EPILOGUE

Unfortunately, Suzanne survives her fight with Zoe. She is transported to a penal colony on a local planet, where she spends three weeks in a rat-infested hellhole. Then–lucky for her–the space/time portal opens up again, and she is transported back to 1995 New Hampshire, where she goes crazy and decides to kill her husband and become a TV reporter.