“What exactly constitutes a mega-playboy?" asked Christine. 

     “Well, first he must be eligible,” said Kacey, as though being an authority on the subject.  “He must be attractive and photogenic.  He must be virile enough to service a different female for every day of the month.  And he must be wealthy enough to show every one of those females a very good time without seriously draining his resources."

     “But I thought females were dominant on this planet,” said Christine.  “Shouldn’t it be the female’s job to show the male a good time?"

     “Normally it is,” said Vicki.  “Females tend to be the seducers in our society.  Mega-playboys are exceptions to the rule, because they are so unusually desirable."

     “Is there a Mega-Playgirl Magazine?" asked Christine. 

     “Sure there is,” said Vicki. 

     “Are you ever featured in it?" Christine inquired. 

     “Hardly,” said Vicki.  “You have to be rich to be a mega-playgirl.  I get featured in the cheaper rags that you see in the supermarkets for super yiffy females who don’t have much else to offer a male."

     “So, normally the female earns the income while the male takes care of the house and children?" asked Christine. 

     “Duh,” said Vicki, with a shrug.  “It’s taken you this long to figure that out?"

     “Well, that isn’t exactly the situation I see around me,” said Christine.  “Perry seems so .  .  .  male.  I mean, in the context of my planet.  He seems like a good old-fashioned lover boy, in spite of people like Jenny and Lappina trying to take advantage of him.  He doesn't strike me as submissive at all.  Just a little wimpy and defeatist once in a while."

     “Mega-playboys usually are exceptions to the rule in many ways,” said Vicki.  “That only makes them more exotic and desirable."

     “What about Pamela?" asked Christine.  “If the roles are reversed here, shouldn’t it be unusual for females to be housekeepers?"

     “It is,” said Vicki.  “But beggars can’t be choosers.  Males and females alike sell themselves into servitude when they run out of ways to support themselves - a situation I would be in if not for you and Perry.  In a way I owe my life to the Rhoades family, just as Pamela does.  But they are too good to treat us like slaves, or to insist that we live that way."

     “I’m sort of that way, too,” said Kacey.  “Perry claims I’m a great receptionist, but I know that isn’t true.  Lappina was right.  I am a liability to his business.  I wouldn’t be working anywhere if not for Perry’s charity.  But, unlike Vicki, I wouldn’t have had the option of selling myself into slavery.  The local brothel wouldn’t have paid two cents for me.  I’m not pretty enough, and I can’t yiff with strangers.  I wouldn’t have had any option but to stay at home and be a burden on my parents.  Without Perry I wouldn't have had any life at all.  What am I going to do now that I'm going to lose him?"

     Both Kacey and Vicki stopped walking and looked at Christine expectantly for an answer. 

     “I guess you’ve both given up on saving him from Lappina,” said Christine. 

     “Haven’t you?" asked Kacey.  “I know that rabbit girl isn’t very nice.  But I don’t want to see her dead."

     “I guess when it comes right down to it I feel the same,” said Vicki.  “Fighting this would be so wrong.  It’s time we started getting used to the idea that we’re on our own."

     “Piffle,” said Christine.  “You’re not on your own, neither of you.  You’re with me.  I already asked Vicki to stay with me always - to watch over me and keep me out of trouble.  Now I’m asking you, Kacey.  If you need someone to be responsible for you, to be your benefactor, you can stay with me and live off of whatever wealth or good fortune befalls me in this world.  If you’ll take care of me, I’ll take care of you, and none of us will ever be without a place or purpose in this world."

     Kacey looked at Christine with emotionally overwhelmed eyes.  An adoring sigh escaped her, and then she flung herself into Christine’s arms. 

     Christine held her reassuringly for a while, and then the three of them happily walked up to their house and climbed the stairs to Kacey’s apartment. 

* * *

     Some time later, back at The Rhoades Mansion, Sir Jon and Sonny had gone on to bed, leaving Perry and Lappina alone in the drawing room. 

     “Do you want to go upstairs?" Perry asked her. 

     “Not really,” she said, pleasantly.  “I’m kind of enjoying being out of that room for a while.  I think I’d like to just stay here in the drawing room and read, or maybe watch TV a while.  But you don’t have to stay with me.  I’m feeling very strong right at the moment.  If you have something you need to do in your workshop, I could spare you for a little while."

     “No kidding?" asked Perry, happily.  “Lappi, that’s so nice of you."

     “Don’t be surprised,” she said, sweetly.  “This is how I normally am when my hormones aren’t driving me crazy.  You don’t think I’m completely unlovable, do you?"

     “Of course not,” he assured her, giving her forehead a little kiss. 

     “Will you ever forgive me for beating you?" she asked, repentantly. 

     “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said, comfortingly.  “I was in the wrong.  I won’t ever leave you or threaten you like that again.  I know my place now."

     “Then run along and play with your toys, dear,” she said, lovingly.  “I’ll project to you when I’m ready to go to bed."

     Perry gave her an affectionate kiss, then he hurried down to his workshop, feeling surprisingly content with the way things were working out.  And he did not even bother to wonder if this was the result of Lappina’s power over him, or if he really was accepting her as someone he could be happy giving his life to. 

     “My poor foolish fiancé,” thought Lappina after he had gone.  “Males just aren’t capable of managing the important decisions in life.  You’ve made some very bad choices.  But don’t worry, my darling.  I’m going to fix them for you.  Before I’m done everything you threw away will be restored to us - starting with your inheritance of this town."

     Lappina got up and walked to the front door.  She went outside and scented the air for Christine’s unique natural perfume. 

     Following the scent into the Suburbian night, Lappina marveled at how quiet and still everything was.  How convenient to be in a town where practically everyone was religiously off the street and asleep in their beds by a certain hour. 

     She continued to track Christine’s scent until it led her to Vicki’s house. 

     “There you are,” she thought to herself.  “I can scent you and your friends very clearly.  And you’re all upstairs, too.  How fortunate for me."

     Lappina walked around the back of the house and once again lifted her ears to survey the area for anyone who might observe her activity, but it was clear that she was completely alone. 

     Feeling reassured, Lappina began looking for debris that she could pile against the house at strategic places. 

     Checking the garbage of the neighbors she found bags of discarded newspapers and magazines, dried lawn rakings and empty cardboard boxes.  She gathered everything she found that would easily burn and piled it up under all the windows - taking her time and enjoying her work as if she were playing a fun game that she was well practiced at. 

     Next she began breaking into the tool sheds and garages of the neighboring houses, where there was never anything more than a simple pad lock to restrict her entry. 

     “Being pregnant has its advantages in Suburbia,” she thought to herself as she reached into a pocket in the lower half of her pregnancy outfit and produced a small metal tool, which she used to pick the locks with silent expert precision. 

     As she entered each structure she searched about without turning on any lights.  Her rabbit eyes, genetically designed for underground living, adjusted quickly to the darkness.  While her trained sense of smell led her quickly to what she sought. 

     She found ample supplies of combustible fuels, paint thinners and charcoal lighter fluid, among other things.  These she gathered in Vicki’s backyard until she felt she had collected enough. 

     Happily she went about encircling the house with a ring of combustible liquids.  She doused all the piles of debris she had made, leaving a connecting trail of liquid between each one.  And she also thoroughly doused the front and back porches. 

     When this task was complete, she spread a line of lighter fluid from the back of the house, across the backyard, and out to the alley.  Then she paused and raised her ears to listen once more. 

     All was quiet in Suburbia.  There was not a light on in any of the surrounding houses.  Not even the sound of moving cars in the distance.  Such an ordered life they lived there.  So predictable, so confident in their general safety, and thus so vulnerable. 

     She turned her ears towards the house.  Again nothing, save for the faint sound of breathing. 

     So acute was her hearing that she could distinguish three different patterns of breath, indicating that all within were sound asleep. 

     “Well, Christine,” Lappina thought to herself with amusement.  “You wanted to learn about the ways of Noir.  I hope you enjoy the little Noirnian Bar-B-Que I’ve prepared for you.  Sorry if this puts a crimp in your plans for tomorrow .  .  .  or for the rest of your life."

     Wearing a wicked, mischievous smile, Lappina dropped the empty lighter fluid can into a nearby trash bin.  Then she produced a pack of matches from her pocket and struck one against the cover.

     She watched the flame in her hand for a second.  Then she dropped it on the ground where she had spilled the last of the lighter fluid. 

     Quietly, the liquid ignited - a small line of flame making it’s way slowly and silently across the yard towards the house. 

     Lappina licked her lips, as if finding the anticipation delicious.  This was the true joy of being Noirnian - savoring the destruction of her enemies, with the knowledge that the law would protect her from punishment. 

     Eventually the line of flame reached the house and spread out in two directions, quickly encircling the building - igniting all the piles of debris, the porches and the foundation of the house as it went. 

     For a time Lappina stayed and watched as the fire began to quietly climb the walls of the house, still not making enough of a noise to disturb any of the sleeping neighbors, let alone those inside.  Before anyone knew what was happening, Lappina’s victims would be beyond saving. 

     Satisfied that her task was accomplished, Lappina strolled casually up the alley, making her way back to the mansion, struggling to suppress her laughter at the thought of Christine and her friends being roasted alive.