Rita, Faro, and Poggy returned to the penthouse after their evening walk. As Faro closed the door behind them, he was surprised to see a man in the living room—a repairman with a long beard and thick mustache, crouched near the bookshelf. The man glanced up and quickly put a finger to his lips, signaling Faro to stay quiet. Albort stood behind him, nodding discreetly and giving Faro a thumbs up. Faro realized immediately—this wasn’t just any repairman. It was one of Rita’s special agents, the kind she secretly hired to sweep her penthouse and fish out hidden surveillance devices planted by unwanted eyes.
The bearded repairman glanced at Rita as she walked in behind Faro, giving her a subtle nod. Rita calmly took Poggy’s leash off and whispered to Faro, “That’s Bobe. He’s not here to fix anything.”
Albort quietly shut the penthouse, located in the posh area of Pickadaily Square, door behind them and stayed near the hallway, keeping watch.
Bobe moved swiftly and skillfully, almost like a dancer in disguise. He pulled out a small device from his toolkit—an old, scratched-up tablet connected to tiny blinking scanners. He walked around the living room, the kitchen counter, and even behind the wall paintings. Every few seconds, the scanner would beep, and Bobe would expertly disarm a bug or camera hidden in plain sight.
When he reached the bathroom door, Bobe turned to Rita and said under his breath, “You were right, Ma’am. Two fresh bugs in here—one under the sink, and another right behind the mirror. These weren’t here last week.”
Rita folded her arms and exchanged a knowing look with Albort. “I knew it. Flint and Clown didn’t drop by this morning just for tea.”
Bobe didn’t just disable the bugs—he played smart. He left a few of them operational but wired them to a looped feed, showing nothing but harmless, pre-recorded video of an empty penthouse or Rita sipping tea by the window. He looked up at Rita and grinned, “Let them think they’re still watching.”
Rita smirked. “Good work, Bobe. Keep them distracted.”
Faro, watching all this unfold, finally spoke, “So they were spying on you… why? Business? Or something darker?”
Rita exhaled slowly and glanced at Faro. “It’s always darker when it comes to Clown.”
Albort nodded grimly. “And Flint’s getting bolder.”
As Bobe packed up, Rita walked over to Faro and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let them watch fake footage all night. But we’ll make our next move quietly.”
Poggy barked softly at Rita’s feet, almost as if he understood.
Later that night, Rita sat on the couch with Albort and Faro, Poggy curled up at her feet. Bobe had finished his sweep and left, promising to monitor the fake looped feeds from a secure location.
Rita leaned back, a playful yet cunning smile on her face. “If Clown and Flint want to watch me so badly… let’s give them a show.”
Faro raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”
She glanced at Albort, who adjusted his collar awkwardly, already sensing her plan. “We’ll stage something,” she said. “Something scandalous enough to keep their eyes glued to the screen and throw them off from our real moves.”
Faro leaned forward. “You want to make it look like you and Albort…”
Rita smiled wickedly. “Exactly. Let them waste their energy drooling over fake footage of me and my butler getting too close. Meanwhile, we’ll be planning their downfall.”
Albort cleared his throat. “If it helps you, Ma’am, I’ll play along.”
Faro couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Rita and the old butler putting on an act to bait Clown and Flint.
The next evening, Rita and Albort staged the footage perfectly—just blurry and grainy enough to feel like ‘hidden camera’ footage. Rita draped herself across Albort’s chest, giggling and whispering, Albort pretending to lean in too close. A few well-placed intimate gestures. Nothing actually happened, but to anyone watching the bug feed, it would look like a secret affair.
When the video was ready, Bobe quietly patched it into the remaining planted bugs Flint had left behind.
“They’ll think they struck gold,” Bobe smirked as he monitored the feed remotely. “And while they’re busy obsessing over this… you three can make your next move.”
Rita stood by the window, looking down at Thundarr City’s skyline. “They want to play games? Let’s play.”
Meanwhile, at Clown Inc. Headquarters…
Mr. Clown leaned back in his massive leather chair, a sinister smile stretching under his painted lips as he sipped on a cold Cal Cola. Flint sat across from him, nervously tapping his fingers on the table.
Suddenly, the hidden surveillance monitor blinked. One of the bugs planted in Rita’s penthouse bathroom came alive, streaming shaky footage.
“There! It’s live,” Flint grinned, pointing at the screen.
They both leaned in.
What they saw made Flint’s jaw drop and Mr. Clown’s painted smile widen in amusement.
On the screen, blurry and grainy, was Rita—half-dressed, laughing softly as she leaned seductively on her butler, Albort. His hands awkwardly placed around her waist, Rita whispering something into his ear. A kiss almost landed on his cheek. It was just scandalous enough, just intimate enough.
Flint leaned back, completely fooled. “I can’t believe it… She’s got a thing going on with her butler! That’s why she’s always brushing us off!”
Mr. Clown chuckled darkly. “I told you she’s hiding something. And now… we own her.”
Flint nodded eagerly. “This is exactly what we needed. Let’s leak this footage to the media, ruin her name, embarrass her.”
But Mr. Clown raised a hand. “No. Not yet. We’ll sit on this… use it to bend her when the time is right.”
What neither of them knew was that the footage was fake, and while they plotted, Rita, Faro, Albort, and Bobe were already a few steps ahead.
Back at the penthouse, after ensuring all the planted bugs were disabled and neutralized, Rita sat calmly in her living room, sipping her evening tea with Faro and Albort by her side. Poggy, her little Bolognese dog, rested by her feet.
Bobe, her trusted agent disguised as the “repairman,” had just finished the final touches. He stood at the door, ready to leave.
“It’s done,” Bobe said quietly. “The fake footage is running smoothly. They’ll think they’ve caught you red-handed.”
Rita nodded, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Good. Let them stew in their arrogance.”
Faro couldn’t help but ask, “What’s next, Aunty? Are you really going to let them think you’re sleeping with Albort?”
Rita gave Faro a mischievous look. “That’s the bait. Let them think I’m careless… let them think they can control me. Meanwhile, I’ll have Bobe and my people track every move Clown and Flint make. Once they try to use that footage against me, we’ll crush them.”
Albort, standing politely with his hands behind his back, gave a small smile. “It’s an honor to be part of the performance, madam.”
Faro leaned back and shook his head with a grin. “You’re dangerous, Aunty.”
Rita gave him a playful wink. “That’s why they can’t beat me.”
As the night fell over Thundarr City, Rita’s trap was already tightening around Clown and Flint. The false footage would serve as bait, but behind the scenes, she was preparing her real move — to expose Mr. Clown’s illegal surveillance empire and Flint’s secret crimes in public.
Rita looked at Faro. “Be ready, darling. When I pull the trigger… we’re going to war.”
Faro gave her a serious nod. “I’m ready.”
And somewhere across the city, in the dark walls of Clown Inc., Mr. Clown and Flint were unknowingly walking straight into her hands.
That night, as the city lights flickered outside the penthouse windows, Faro and Rita sat quietly on the balcony with Poggy asleep by their feet. The cool Thundarr breeze carried the faint hum of traffic below. Rita finally broke the silence.
“Faro… there’s something you need to know,” she said softly, her eyes distant.
Faro looked at her, sensing a deeper weight in her tone.
“This thing with Clown and Flint,” she continued, “it’s not just about them spying on me… or business rivalry. It’s much bigger.”
She glanced at him, then looked back at the lights of Thundarr City. “You’ve heard the rumors about the underground slave girl clubs, haven’t you? The ones Clown secretly owns but nobody talks about?”
Faro’s eyes hardened. “Yeah. Everyone whispers about them. But D.E.C. never does anything. Too many bribes, too many dirty hands.”
Rita nodded, her jaw tightening. “Exactly. Those clubs aren’t just playgrounds for the rich. They’re cages. For girls stolen from villages, homeless women, young girls tricked and trafficked. Clown runs all of it. And Flint is helping him expand.”
Faro stared at her, realizing why she had been playing this long, dangerous game.
“My real intention,” Rita said, voice sharp now, “is to burn those clubs to the ground, or at least shut them all down. Free the girls. Shut Clown’s empire down. The D.E.C. will never do it… because they’re in his pocket. So I will do the deed.”
Faro felt a surge of admiration and concern at the same time. “That’s why you’re feeding them fake footage… why you’re letting them think they’ve won.”
Rita smirked faintly, her green eyes glowing in the night. “Let them play their little game. While I prepare the real attack.”
She turned to Faro, her hand resting on his. “When I move, I’ll need you. The Cave of Falcon isn’t the only place that needs saving. This city does too.”
Faro gave her a small nod, feeling something stir in his chest — the need to fight beside her.
“I’m with you, Aunty. All the way.”
Rita smiled, the smile of a woman who had already made up her mind.
“Good,” she said. “Because once we start… there’s no turning back.”
