"That would be jolly exciting!" a guest remarked.
    "Yes, my thought exactly. So please, when this happens, if it does, I recommend that everyone move over to the bar so they can get a clear view while the professionals do their job."
    "Well, certainly, we'd never get in the way of the menial—" Someone kicked the speaker. "—Working men," he revised.
    Phoenix Talon cleared his throat. "Actually, ladies and gents, to make this a little more blunt, we're almost certainly going to be attacked, and when this attack comes, if you could please move below decks as calmly as possible, before you get turned into chunks of charred flesh by the various energy weapons fire that will be circling around the ship, that would be appreciated. Thank you all." He headed for the bow to stand lookout. A few models, presumably intrigued by his dark and brooding demeanor, gravitated toward him. The party resumed, the general cheer unabated.
    A while later I spotted a swarm of specks on the horizon, crouched over what certainly looked like surfboards. They had some kind of sound baffles for their engines, running silently and surprisingly fast. I signalled the others.
    A moment later the Blood Boards reached back and turned off the baffles, and a sudden roaring echoed over the water as they closed in. Those things have a lot of lift, since they were leaping all the way over the damn boat, whooping, firing energy pistols, and generally acting like they usually do. That is to say, like idiots.
    Phoenix Talon whipped out a line, lassoed one of the Blood Boards around the legs and yanked him off the board, which skidded across the deck and got stuck in the bass drum, engine roaring.
    The crowd panicked.
    "Below decks! Get below decks!" Talon yelled at them, kicking his captive. "Dead, you're all SO dead." He seemed to be taking their involvement personally for some reason.
    I grabbed a circling Blood Board and noted, somewhat disturbed, that there actually were shark fins in the water along with the surfing henchmen. I used him to swat another one; they ended up on one board, clinging desperately to each other as the uncontrolled board headed off away from the boat.
    "The Revolution's here, we're doomed! Call the boss, call the boss!"
    "Yes, please do," I replied under my breath. He was, after all, the real problem.
    Phoenix Talon used his bokken on another surfboard; there was a shower of sparks as the back end snapped off. The Blood Board flew threw a crowd of people and landed face-first on the deck. A party guest smacked him in the head with a whiskey bottle.
    "Thank you. Now get downstairs. Anyone not belowdecks deserves whatever happens to them," Talon growled.
    "Okay, now!" Three Blood Boards fired at me simultaneously, forcing a bit of fancy dodging while another group of four targeted Phoenix Talon. One of them actually winged him, but that really just ticked him off more. "Yeah, we hit him, woo-hoo! Get ready to do it again!" the group leader directed.
    Five Boards jumped the yacht, leaped off the surfboards and landed on deck. Then they got out the modified skateboards they'd been carrying slung across their backs, and began roaring through the crowd, grabbing jewelry as they went. Guess they've decided to stick with what they consider a winning theme.
    Scott descended to deck level and began sucking the energy out of their engines, making his presence known to them at last. On their next volley one of the little punks tagged me, but not too badly.
    At that moment, the long-awaited Manta Master shot dramatically up from the water, his cloak/parasail billowing behind him. "Ah, foolish heroes! Doesn't matter, this is our last stop before my great triumph! I will destroy you all here!" Then, of course, he shot me. People always seem to do that. At least it wasn't a freeze weapon; paralysis ray of some sort. I hung onto my shield long enough that splashing down into the water didn't hurt much, but I couldn't move and I was going to black out in a couple of seconds. And there were sharks there.
    Paul decided that it was a good time to use the element of surprise on Manta Master. He reached out to the flame from the engine of the surfboard still stuck in the drum, wrapped it around himself, and redirected it toward the surprised villain. Manta Master's swirling cloak deflected much of the heat.
    "Fool! You cannot hurt me! You are but gnats beneath me! No wait, eels! Eels beneath me!"
    "Do fish grind gnats beneath their heels?" Scott wondered.
    "Seaweed to be torn apart by the rotors of my greatness!" Manta Master ranted on.
    "You guys gave up being Blood Boards for this?" the robot asked the nearest punk quizzically.
    "We're still the Blood Boards, man! We rule!" the youth replied defiantly.
    "No, you look like surfers," Phoenix Talon critiqued. "You look like Gidget and Moondog."
    "We do not!"
    "Look, that's a surfboard!" he pointed out.
    "Is this Beach Blanket Bingo gone horribly wrong?" Scott had been watching late night movies again.
    "Gidget! We'll Gidget your ass, pal!" a Board shouted.
    "Hey Moonie, let's go and get our asses kicked by the Revolution," Phoenix Talon taunted in a high-pitched voice. The Blood Boards who had been terrorizing the partiers drew into a circle around him.
    I snapped free of the paralysis and bobbed upward, brought my shield back up. A pair of sharks was inches away, their open mouths providing a close-up view you see on PBS nature specials. Of course the person doing the filming is generally safe in one of those cages....
    On deck, Phoenix Talon's mirrors snapped out and reflected his pinburst of light, blinding four Blood Boards. Two of them went right over the side and scrambled atop the surfboards floating riderless there, fearful of the sharks.
    "Say hi to Frankie and Annette for me!" Talon called.
    Scott arced down and whacked both sharks across the nose before their jaws could close. The startled animals retreated.
    "Thank you, Scott."
    "That's it, we're going to get you now!" one of the Blood Boards yelled, coming straight at Phoenix Talon, who ducked. The skater ran into the yacht's mainmast.
    "Should have listened to Rick, boy," Talon sighed.
    "Fine! This is inconsequential to my greater revenge anyway!" Manta Master roared. "The Mariners will be destroyed! You will not be able to stop me! Ha ha ha! Come my minions, quickly." He splashed into the water, followed by his surfing "minions."
    "He's right, the Mariners are never going to do anything this season," Phoenix Talon shrugged, puzzled. "You suck!" he yelled after the retreating Blood Boards. Then he kicked one of the ones lying on the deck.
    The party guests cheered and clapped.

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