Commission: Totally Spies: Reaching New Heights

[Story Listing]

Commissioned by Ninten

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---

Bertha Bombshell had more than her fair share of axes to grind. The indignity of finishing second at the pageant to determine Liverpool's "Ms. Fish and Chips" stuck with her like a bad stain. She always knew in her heart that she was the better fish, and she would pursue any means necessary to come out on top, and correct what had been a grievous error in judgment.

It wasn't that she was ugly, or incapable; she was drop-dead gorgeous, a talented performer, and intelligent to boot. But these qualities don't really shine through when you're serving time in prison on charges of espionage, thieving, and mass destruction of property.

If it wasn't for the World Organization Of Human Protection, she would be a free woman. She would be a star on the pageantry circuit. She would've had talk show appearances, a trophy room, a personal assistant who would hand-feed her sushi. But alas, she had to toil in prison for her (admittedly considerable) crimes.

Bertha was a career-minded woman, even from the confines of prison; she wooed the guards, played the part of the well-behaved inmate for extra privileges, told them what they wanted to hear, and involved herself in community service. All this in an attempt to grease the wheels and be let out early on good behaviour.

And it was working. She was getting her start performing for the troops at an army camp based in Montana. Sure, she would be performing at gunpoint, and if she made a move she'd be thoroughly ventilated, but it was an opportunity for her to let loose! Put on a show!

They even gave her a make-up room. She had to make sure her luscious red hair was brushed, and she was thankful to get out of her inmate jumpsuit for something more fashionable; a pink ribbon tied around her waist, and a pink vest to go with her white skirt. Her high heels tapped against the floors excitedly.

"They put a collar on you too, huh...?" Bertha heard a woman in the room with her.

Bertha paused her brush strokes, reflexively reaching for the collar wrapped around her neck. It was an unsightly metal thing, flashing a red light in intervals.

Bertha swivelled around in her chair to get a better look at the woman. She was wearing a flowing purple dress that shined like leather, and long black hair that flowed past her shoulders.

"...Do I know... oh! The snake woman!" Bertha smiled broadly. "Charmed."

The 'Snake Woman' glowered, gritting her teeth. "I have a name you know. It's Nessa. Nessa Anaconda..."

"But you are the snake woman. More reptile than woman, able to stretch your body and your tell incredible distances... I remember the shows!~" Bertha winked.

"You were from that freak show I heard so much about, what was it called... Carnival Diablo?" Bertha crossed her legs. "The circus with all those talking animals... could've been the greatest show on Earth. What a pity."

"Tch. If it weren't for those WOOHP spies." Nessa folded her arms. "Jail's worse than the circus ever was; they keep me collared and caged like an animal..."

"You tangled with those nosy brats as well...?" Bertha cocked her head to the side.

"Yeah, and they made me put this collar on. 'To treat my mutation', they said." She pointed at her collar. "It's constantly pumping me with an antidote, to suppress my 'mutant' abilities..."

"...That sounds dreadfully familiar." Bertha scratched at her own neck. "The doctors said that the serum I took altered my DNA. My mutation's permanent... they can only suppress the symptoms. At least until they can track down a geneticist. But it's cheaper to keep me locked up for years and years... ingrates."

"Tch, and you call me a freak," Nessa tilted her head. "You've been here God knows how long and you don't look like you've aged a day."

"Mmhmhm~ Exercise, healthy eating, and goal-oriented planning." Bertha chuckled, before turning back to groom herself further in the mirror. "

Bertha wasn't about to admit that her seemingly eternal youth was the result of that serum...

"It really is barbaric how they can just lock people up for the rest of their lives. And for what? A little wanton destruction never hurt anyone!" Bertha spat. "That pier was an eyesore anyway! They should've paid me to tear that place down! At least I didn't murder anybody..."

"They're never going to let us out of here," Nessa growled. "They see us as mutants. Freaks. Sub-human. They just want to march us out for their entertainment."

"We're performers at heart, dearest." Bertha powdered her face. "Tell me, is there no greater feeling than basking in the glow of an adoring crowd?"

"I'd rather be in Lucas' arms right now! But they're holding him in another prison..." Nessa clenched her hands into fists. "All I want is to see him again..."

"...Hmmmm... hold that thought, darling." Bertha paused, turning back to Nessa. "Perhaps we're not so different after all~"

"Puh-lease." Nessa clicked her tongue, nearly choking on her words. "All you care about is your stupid pageant crown; I'm trying to reunite with my boyfriend!"

"Yes, but we're in the same situation. Two caged animals, pacing about until the ringmaster calls upon us..." Bertha rose from her chair. "Blessed with gifts that nobody else comprehends... and who nobody else ever truly appreciated."

Bertha grasped Nessa's chin, looking into her eyes.

"Tell me; did those spies that apprehended you call you gross? Ugly? A mutant freak?" Bertha's eyebrow twitched, agitated from the memories surging back to the front of her mind.

"...Something like that." Nessa's eyes drifted away; Bertha released her grip.

"I have a special surprise lined up for this musical number." Bertha smiled. "I want you on stage with me. And together, we'll make our move."

"...Together. With you." Nessa cocked her head to the side. "What are you planning, Bombshell?"

"Ohhhh, why spoil the surprise?" Bertha chuckled insidiously. "Just trust me on this, and be at my side for the big number...

---

Nobody at the show seemed all that impressed to be introduced to the runner up of "Ms. Fish and Chips", and while heads turned at the prospect of a snake woman, Nessa's decidedly normal appearance might've lost the crowd.

But Bertha understood her ability to win over a crowd better than anyone. And she knew her audience; she sang a ballad to the crowd, tugging at her dress to show off just a little bit of her teasing cleavage. She swayed her hips, clasping the mic, really getting into it.

And Nessa wasn't bad at backup vocals either. They weren't a bad pair when they teamed up; Bertha twirled with her ribbons with the practiced professionalism mirroring that of an Olympic athlete, and Nessa twirled atop a balance beam so quickly that you'd be forgiven for thinking she'd take off from the ground!

They were approaching the end of their performance; they passed each other during their routines.

"Hey you!" Nessa whisper, jerking Bertha to face the back. "What's the hold-up!? You said you had a plan!"

"Patience." Bertha raised a finger. "He'll be here any moment now..."

Ka-click. Clink clink clink...

"Ah, perfect timing~"

The two women turned towards an object tossed at the stage. It was perfectly chrome, but bumped like a hand-grenade. A blue light lit up on its side as it beeped unsettlingly.

"...What uh... what is that?" Nessa grimaced. "I-is that a bomb??"

"It's our ticket out of here, my soon-to-be-snakelike friend!~" It was Bertha's turn to turn Nessa around, facing the bomb.

"What!? NO! NOT LIKE THIS-"

VWEEEEEEEEE! BOOOOOM!

A shrill sound pierced the air before a sharp explosion followed suit, flash banging the crowd into disorientation; a stunned murmur washed over the panicked crowd as the two women stumbled back, bumping against the set behind them.

"Gack!" Nessa choked, her head slamming backwards.

Kchunk. A pressure around her neck relieved itself, and she felt something fall into her lap. She glanced down... it was her collar!

"What the... it came off??" Nessa blinked.

"It's an EMP grenade! It disabled our collars!" Bertha jumped to her feet. "The limiters are off, honey! Do you feel your bad self coming back to you??"

Nessa paused. A familiar tingling sensation gripped her lower body. She gasped as the world shrunk around her, her purple leather dress growing down, compressing her legs, and stretching further still. She reared up, looking down at herself.

Her legs were gone. She had a snake tail. Her snake tail. The tip twitched as Nessa reared up eight, no, nine feet above the crowd.

"Ah... I-I'm myself again!" She smiled, her canines flashing.

Bertha's body pulsed and writhed in turn; her limbs swelled and deflated in rhythmic spasms, her body stretching like rubber with each pulsation. She clenched her fists, feeling the energy wash over her.

She purred. "Ohhh, that's the good stuff..." She looked over the crowd. "Well, I guess we better-"

"THE RESTRAINTS ARE OFF! SUBDUE 'EM!" A sergeant hollered from the crowd; a firing squad near the front row cocked their rifles, and fired a set of rubber bullets in their direction."

"Whoop!~" Bertha and Nessa swayed back and forth, their midriffs bending in strange, perfectly arching angles over and over to dodge the shots.

...Well, most of them. One of them got Bertha in one of her breasts; it pressed deep into her, like something had pressed their finger into a memory-foam mattress.

She chuckled, and inflated her breast with an emphatic BOING, conking one of the soldiers with their own bullet.

"That's no way to treat a lady, gentlemen!" Bertha clenched her fists. They were swelling rapidly, each one twice the size of her own head; she clasped them together and brought them crashing down, sending a quaking shockwave that launched several soldiers in the crowd.

"SHE'S A MONSTER!"

"WHERE'RE THE BIG GUNS!?"

"BULLETS DON'T WORK, JOHN!!"

Bertha cackled, squeezing her fist; it made a sound like two balloons rubbing against each other. She loved this feeling of power, her body stretching beyond its limits over and over. She wanted to be seen by everyone...

Her body squeaked as she spread her legs; she twisted her torso around, once, twice, three times, her body ascending higher and higher, before she loomed over the crowd.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS VIEW OF BERTHA BOMBSHELL, HUH!?" She laughed, her voice bellowing over the crowd. She raised a high heel and brought it crashing down upon the front row!

"Bertha! The cannons!"

Nessa called out, watching a team of trainees hauling what appeared to be a cannon. A mustachio'd commander was with them.

"Ear covers on! Blast them with the crowd disperser!" He commanded.

Nessa gasped, her body shooting forward towards the impressive contraption; it seemed her tail had no limit as she surged along the floor, barreling through soldiers as she zipped at breakneck speeds. Her tail reached sixteen, twenty two... thirty feet in a matter of seconds!

She lashed her arms forward as she punched several trainees out of the way, her tail descending upon the cannon. She coiled herself around the cannon, clenching her fanged canines as she grunted, her entire body tensing up...

CRUNCH! The crowd-control cannon collapsed, contained within her coils. She grinned, tossing the scrap at a jeep that had pulled up with reinforcements.

"Capital work, Ms. Anaconda!" Bertha smirked. Her arm extended towards Nessa, her five-foot wide palm smacking down a small contingent of soldiers. "What say we make our getaway?"

"You don't need to ask me twice!" Nessa blurted, quickly coiling up the length of Bertha's outstretched arm. Berth turned to make a run for it...

"Ms. Bombshell! Take me with you!!"

She felt a tugging at the base of her dress. She blinked, glancing down; it was a scrawny soldier, holding on for dear life.

"What? Why the devil would I do that??" Bertha tilted her head.

"You said you loved me! You said that... if I threw the EMP bomb, you'd take me with you, a-and we could start a family!" The private hollered, desperate tears in his eyes.

"Oh, that?" Bertha smiled. "Ohhhh, I'm sorry. I suppose you wouldn't realize. That's a trade secret in the pageantry industry that we call a bald-faced lie."

The private gasped; he was shocked, appalled, and betrayed. She shook the hem of her dress insistently.

"Now get off!" She shouted, shaking him loose; he sprawled onto her oversized high-heel, clinging for dear life.

"PLEASE!" He pleaded. "THEY'RE GOING TO COURT-MARTIAL ME IF I-"

"SCOOT!" She kicked her foot, flinging him off towards the mess hall in a wide, fifteen-foot tall arc. On shapely legs that cleared three storeys, she stomped towards the woods.

Her long legs carried her faster than any ground based vehicle could, especially through the woods. Within half an hour, Bertha and Nessa had eluded their pursuers.

"Oh, that was exhilarating!" Bertha exclaimed, hanging Nessa onto a nearby tree before shrinking down to a more typical size; her shoulders pulsated, before settling down.

"Wow... I did not see it playing out like that." Nessa hung limply from the tree, upside down. "I really do owe you a debt of gratitude..."

"Strong mutants need to stick together, yes?" Bertha placed a hand on her hip. "Powerful women shouldn't be tearing each other down~"

"Yes, but... I suppose this is where we go our separated ways. Lucas is out there somewhere." Nessa coiled her tail around the branch, swinging her torso right-side up. She rested her head in her palm. "Where are you going now, Bombshell?"

"I have a pageant to win."

Bertha didn't hesitate for a moment with her answer.

---

When Bertha and Nessa split up, the snake woman wasted no time renewing the hunt for her beloved Lucas.

There was no place for them anymore in the States. They agreed long ago to flee to a place where no one could track them. And, much to Nessa's delight, Lucas had escaped his prison as well.

Papua New Guinea was ideal; it was mostly covered in jungles. They would be able to live together in peace. They didn't need the carnival; they only needed each other.

Nessa kept to the trees above, her slick purple tail lashing behind her as she coiled around vine after vine, slithering from branch to branch.

"Ah-!"

There was a sudden drop; instinct took over as her arms bonelessly lashed out, wrapping around a strong branch above her. She swung through the air, landing on her tail.

She reared up, looking around through the dense foliage. She needed to stay high above the ground for a better view; the trees in this jungle towered over her at least twenty feet each.

She tensed her arms, lashing them out towards one tree; she allowed herself to coil up the trunk, pressing her chest against the bark. Her tail was strong, tensing to grip the tree, miniature wiggles to climb up the tree...

Once she was high enough, she slammed her hands into the tree, claws digging in deep. She sighed to herself; it would be a miracle if she tracked down Lucas in this sprawling jungle.

She closed her eyes, opening her mind to her senses. Any changes in smell, any subtle sounds... anything could be a clue. She allowed her body to stretch, swaying through the air as she travelled far above the ground, almost as if she were swimming.

Her eyes widened as she wiggled her noise. She picked up a faint scent... but a familiar one. Like wet dog. Lucas!

She studied the ground, finding some of the shrubs parted, making way for a makeshift trail that cut through the foliage. She made out clumps of fur, and the scent was stronger here.

She smiled to herself; he had made a trail for her. Her body surged forward, stretching and snaking among the trees as she followed the trail.

I'll be there soon, Lucas... my love. My big puppy dog~

---

Bertha wasn't as discreet about her new life on the lam. The only path she saw for herself was stardom, and she gave herself to no man. She was an independent woman above all else; she was the best fish, and she would slip through any net attempting to ensnare her.

Her mutation had been volatile before, but her time in prison had allowed her warped genes to settle down; the ghastly palpitations of her body parts swelling in unflattering ways were largely things of the past. That said, she had taken to inflating key parts of her body to emphasize her best features...

She couldn't fathom how anyone could've ever thought of her as a gross mutant; she looked gorgeous, stunning, a powerful icon of womanly perfection. And she wanted the world to praise her name on high.

She took on a new alias, Betty Bigtop (she didn't think about it too hard) and hit the talent show circuits once more. She added new talents to her performance routine to show off her range: she could lift weights, she could contort herself unlike any other, she could limbo lower than anyone thought she could...

She even learned how to swell her lungs and her vocal chords, so her singing range was without peer.

With such peerless control of her body, her violent, destructive mood swings were a thing of the past. She got what she wanted, she was the queen of the pageantry circuit... she feigned tears when she was crowned Ms. Universe, knowing in her heart that this is what she deserved. She belonged on the podium.

But a problem occurred to her; what is there left to do when a woman has reached the very pinnacle of her career?

She had various executives prostrating themselves to her, begging her to advertise their products, appear on their shows, greenlight her autobiography. The neon lights of Hollywood called to her, and she quickly found a unique arrangement for her unique gifts...

KABOOM! A giant fist shot out from an arm bigger than a tree crashed into the side of a high rise; it crumpled under her powerful, rubbed spilling around her two-storey high heels.

She towered at least fifty feet tall; her scarlet hair billowed down her shoulders as her fists ballooned, bigger than weather balloons. She grinned toothily, her chest bouncing as she cackled.

"GYAHAHAHA!~ Come on out, Terrance, with that little hussie you've been schmutzing with at the office!" She raised her heels, stomping at an unfortunate fast food joint.

She had been picked up for a reboot of an old B-movie, Assault of the Thirty Story Bombshell, and the director wanted the movie to feel as real and immersive as possible. They constructed a massive, metropolitan set, and "Betty" could cut loose as much as she want. She was a method actor after all, and if anyone knew how to play the role of a spurned giantess superwoman, it was her.

She glanced down to a missile that had been launched at her from below; she rolled her eyes, picking it out between her index finger and thumb, and flicked it aside into a mockup apartment high-rise.

"You can't hide foreeeeeever!~" Betty hollered. "If I can't have you, nobody can!"

She swung her fists around her, flailing around like maces to strike down the fleet of helicopters that circled above her. She approached a building that sure looked like the Washington Monument, her body tingling as she wrapped around it, her head floating along a boneless neck.

Her entire body squeaked excitedly as she indulged her body to grow further; her contract stipulated she only needed to maintain a height of fifty feet, but she was indulging herself.

"When I find you, Terrence... you're mine!~"

The producers had a really good feeling about this movie's future box-office performance... even as the costs were skyrocketing. Betty Bigtop was a veritable sensation, and her menacing acting ability would carry them to the bank!

Betty swung her head back, letting out a whooping cackle towards the heavens. All eyes were on her now...