Gene was standing over a dead Kitteh Kommander when we walked up. He was holding a fireman's axe and wore a pair of glowing rings. He hefted the axe as we approached, eyeing us carefully.

"Whoa," Eva said. "Put the axe down, we just want to talk."

He studied us for another moment, then nodded and relaxed. He didn't put the axe back into his inventory.

"What's a nice pair of girls like you doing in a bad place like this?" he asked, an easy smile on his face.

He was my height, maybe a centimeter taller, Asian, with a slim build but toned arms well displayed in his white tank top shirt.

Crawler #781,592. "Gene L."

Level 8.

Race: Human

Class: None

"Funny," Eva said. "We're grinding, same as you."

He was looking just above our heads, clearly studying our properties.

"And you're doing pretty well, considering," he said with a smile. "Don't worry, we can join up."

Eva bristled. "And why would we want to join up with you?"

Katia: We should. He's strong and the monsters are starting to be out of our reach. A third person would help a lot.

Eva: He's an ass and I don't like the way he's looking at us.

It was true. There was definitely speculation in Gene's eyes and I was forcibly reminded that we were a pair of women, that Eva was quite attractive, that she was wearing a Kitteh Kollar of +2 Dexterity which was uncomfortably close to fetish wear, and that Gene was definitely physically stronger than us. And also better armed and probably better equipped if those rings meant anything.

"Hey, if you girls think you can go it alone, cool," he said with a shrug. The condescension was clear. "Personally, I know where the boss is for this neighborhood and I figured I could grab a couple levels and then take it out. With you two to watch my back we could do it now. Probably good for a level each plus some good loot."

Katia: Please say yes.

Eva breathed out her anger slowly, and when she spoke her voice was mostly calm. "Fine. Here."

Gene L. has joined your party!

"Sweet. Let's go." He turned and walked off, leaving us to hurry to catch up.

"So, Katia," he said over his shoulder. "Are you two...together?"

"What?" It took me a moment to recognize what he was asking and then I blushed. "No, not like that. We're friends and colleagues, that's all."

"Cool, cool."

"Do you have anything useful?" Eva demanded. "What do those rings do?"

"Strength and Constitution. I've got a 10 strength, plus a bunch of passive skills that boost my damage, so I hit like a truck. You? What are those things you're using, anyway?"

"Narwhal tusks," I said. "Eva tricked one of the Bopca into giving them to us by claiming it was part of a specialty local dish. And a pair of swordfish bills that we can use like clumsy poleaxes. The tusks are better though. Much more manageable."

He glanced back at Eva and laughed. "And he bought that? Damn, nice job. Where did you claim it was from?"

"Iceland," Eva said. "We're from Reykjavik."

"Huh. Go figure. I'm from Germany. Literally a small world, I guess." We rounded a final corner and he stopped, waving at a door. "This is it."

At some point this door had been on the front of someone's house; it was wood, painted sky blue with a big '371' on it in brass numerals, and had a mail slot. The dungeon walls around it were grey-and-blue speckled granite and the door was ill-fitted to its frame.

Eva stepped up to the door and reached for the knob but Gene blocked her hand.

"Look," he said, moving carefully forward such that Eva had to step back or be bowled over. "We're a team now, right?" He put his hand on my shoulder in what was supposed to be a casual way. My skin crawled and I flinched away; he pretended not to notice. "Being a team means we make a plan."

"How are we supposed to make a plan when we don't know what's in there?" Eva snapped.

"Dunno what your guide told you but mine says that boss battles, at least on this floor, usually feature one big monster and a bunch of little ones. Now, I'm the strongest and toughest of us so I'll take the boss and you girls keep the littles off me. Right?"

I ground my teeth but said nothing. It was in fact the sensible plan even if it was presented in an arrogant and condescending way. "How do you know this is the boss room?" I asked.

He gestured at the door. "It's out of place with the rest of the dungeon, there were a bunch of tough mobs in the area, and the map doesn't show anything inside it. Sounds like a boss room to me."

Eva took a calming breath. "Fine. That's the plan. We'll see what happens."

He raised an eyebrow but let it go with a smile. "Cool, let's do this."

At his touch the door swung open to reveal a spacious and grandmotherly railroad-style studio apartment. There was a faded green couch with doilies on both armrests and plumped-up pillows, bookcases around the walls stuffed with copies of Kat Fancier magazine, pictures of cats, prize ribbons, and random tchotchkes—porcelain cats of various breeds, legless stuffed mice, a rose embedded in clear plastic, and more. There was no rhyme or reason to it aside from the general cat theme.

The other end of the apartment had a dining room table covered in a lacey tablecloth. An antique faux-crystal chandelier hung over it, shedding a weak yellow light. There was one place set at the end of the table, fork and knife and spoon carefully arranged on a white linen napkin next to a gleamingly clean white plate and a plastic cup that said 'Florida State Cat Show, 1974'.

The dining room was separated from the kitchen by a chest-high formica countertop. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, two gleaming copper pots, one lidded and one with a ladle in, stood on the gas stove. Various kitchen implements were stationed on the counters and the refrigerator was covered in cat magnets.

A woman popped up from behind the kitchen counter. "Eh? Who's there?" She was in her eighties and had cat ears, whiskers, and yellow feline eyes. Despite that, she seemed more confused than anything.

Gene stepped inside, his axe at the ready. Eva and I came behind behind him, she with an intense and focused expression on her face and me feeling much less certain.

The door slammed behind us.

I tried to whirl around and catch it before it closed, but I was trapped, completely frozen and unable to move. Music began to play from no obvious source.

Katia: What's happening?!

Eva: I don't know.

Gene: Chill. It's the boss fight starting trailer.

A mugshot of Eva splattered into the air in front of us, Gene's and mine below it. A giant red 'versus' appeared next to them.

The Krazy Kat Lady!

Level 9 Neighborhood Boss!

Elderly shut-in or stay-at-home grandma, you decide! The Krazy Kat Lady is alone in the world, a spinster who never had children and has had to watch all her siblings go on to far more successful lives. She got a pet cat for companionship and the Toxoplasma gondii parasites that riddled its stench-filled feline body kept her from recognizing what an evil little monstrosity it was. Indeed, they made her think that cats were wonderful, and so she got another. And another. And on and on, and then the little bastards started spawning. Now dependent on the creatures to fill the hole in her heart, she will do anything to protect her fuzzy little darlings!

The words 'The Krazy Kat Lady!' appeared in a blood-drenched font with a shredding deathmetal chord that was far out of character for the woman herself.

Aaaand here. We. Gooooo!

The world unfroze around us.

"Who are you?" the old woman demanded. "What are you doing in my apartment? Get out! Get out, now! Help! Help! Police!" She grabbed the ladle from the pot on the stove and hurled it at me. I tried to duck but it hit me in the forehead and twenty percent of my health disappeared in one go.

"Mrow? / Mrow? / Meow? / Murrr? A quartet of cat heads suddenly sprang up from the couch cushions, looking around curiously. Two more jumped down from one of the bookcases, landing on the dining room table. From behind me I heard the taptap of kitty paws landing on the carpet and an angry hiss.

"Aaaahhh!" Eva conjured the narwhal tusk out of her inventory and charged at the old woman. Three cats jumped at her, with claws extended while yowling angrily through mouths that stretched nightmarishly large.

"I'm on the old lady, you dumb bitch!" Gene shouted, running forward. "Cover me!"

I ignored them both and jumped left to avoid my various attackers. The cat from behind me passed through where I'd been a moment before. I didn't have a moment to feel proud of my agility before four more cats were coming at me from all sides, three coming from the couch cushions and one leaping off the dining room table to gallop towards me.

I pulled my narwhal tusk out of inventory and braced it crosswise, blocking two of the couch cats. The third I managed to kick out of the air. It bounced off the ceiling and hit the ground, standing up immediately but with a 'Dazed' status over its head and a nine second countdown.

The two cats that I had blocked lunged again, coming under my tusk and aiming to disembowel me. I hunched over and raised my left leg protectively, causing one cat to hit me in the shin and the other in the upper chest. I kicked weakly at the shin cat and knocked it away, but not before it raked me with its claws and left me bleeding. The other cat bit me and got its front claws in, kicking frantically with both back legs as I bent forward, swinging it away to protect my belly. I let go of the narwhal tusk with my left hand and grabbed the cat by the back of the neck, tearing it away from me in a shriek of pain.

The next few moments were a blur of whirling, blocking, and kicking as claws and teeth raked and bit and tore at me. I dropped the tusk back into my inventory; it was too large and too heavy for this fight. I grabbed cats by whatever I could reach and smashed them into each other. If I managed to get the neck I would squeeze tight and flip them over to break it. If I got a leg I would accept having my hands and forearms cut up in exchange for smashing it into the ground and breaking the bone. I smacked them against one other where possible, although they were fast enough that it was more by luck than skill.

The whole time, I kept moving forward towards the kitchen and the grandma. I needed to be over there if I was going to protect the other two. Besides, if we could kill her then maybe all the cats would disappear. It had worked for the Avengers.

The grandma had come out from the kitchen and was clashing with Gene, wooden spoon against axe, while shouting things like "You get out you disrespectful young whippernappers! Leave me and my babies alone! How dare you?!" Eva kept trying to get behind her and stab her with the tusk but the grandma ducked aside from every such thrust and, without taking her eyes off of Gene, threw a jingly cat bell at Eva. The bells were normal size and by any reasonable laws of physics should have done no damage, but they hit with the force of lead balls. I could see Eva's health dropping, dropping, and then topping up again as she used a potion. The grandma was down maybe ten percent if that. Gene had yet to land a hit and his knuckles had been rapped often enough that he was down twenty percent. Worse, cats were swarming around his feet, clawing at his ankles and legs while trying to trip him.

"Damnit, Katia! Help me out here!" he shouted. "Keep these bastards off of me!"

"Coming!" I hurled the last of the latest batch of attack cats away, forcing two more couch cats to abort their attack and jump aside from my furry improvised missile. They kept coming out of the couch cusions or off the bookcases seemingly without limit, so every time I killed one it didn't matter. I was scratched and bleeding, all of my mana already spent on Heal spells and currently waiting on my potion cooldown.

I raced past Gene and past the grandma, taking a bell to the back of the head as I did, and slid into the kitchen, struggling to arrest my momentum on the slick tile floor. Those herbs hanging to dry, had they been...?

"Yes!"

I knocked the pot of soup out of the way with one hand, burning myself in the process, and yanked the entire batch of herbs off their drying hooks so that I could throw them into the flame of the gas burner.

Half a kilo of very dry catnip went up like a torch and thick smoke billowed across the apartment. It smelled sweet and sharp and made me feel a little bit fuzzy in a pleasant way, but it did much worse to our enemies.

The moment the smoke touched a cat it would stop, one paw raised as it sniffed the air, and then it would lose interest in the fight. Some of them sat down and batted frantically at nonexistent butterflies, others ran crazily in circles pouncing on imaginary mice. Others began furiously cleaning themselves like pageant contestants about to go onstage.

The smoke reached the grandma before it got to the bulk of her fur children, but it was much slower to affect her. She froze, sniffing, and then turned her head towards the kitchen in alarm. Eva took the opportunity to thrust the narwhal tusk into the old woman's belly. She doubled over, clutching at the wound as blood gushed out, but seeming almost not to notice since all her focus was on a tawny Siamese and an ugly bald cat who were currently sitting face to face, smacking each other on the head.

"No! Children! Bad kitties! No fighting! Don't...don't—"

Either they listened or the effect of the catnip smoke had advanced; the zoomies were passing and the cats were starting to become torpid, lying down with fully-blown pupils and batting vaguely at the air or even falling asleep.

Eva dropped the tusk and ran forward, summoning her broken kitchen knife to her hand and stabbing the grandma repeatedly; Gene almost chopped her with his axe by mistake but managed to abort the strike. The old woman's health bar dropped like a rock under Eva's violent ministrations; she struggled weakly but was already too badly wounded. She died, leaving Eva panting in exhaustion and liberally splashed with blood. There were jets of it across her face, her hands and forearms were red to the elbow and her front was soaked from chin to waist.

The kitties' health bars had started seeping away after they lay down and passed out. By the time Eva had caught her breath, the last of them were dead. As it expired, a bell rang through the room and everything froze once more.

And the winner is: The Unnamed Party of Eva Sigrid!

Our pictures snapped back into existence, framed in a rolling golden marquee. The door to the hallway exploded and I slumped to the floor in exhaustion.