"Anyway. What was your fault grande?"

"Look grande Matt," Bill interrupted, "just the grandegirls stuff I need to know to help." Matt nodded.

"Where?"

Bill didn girl't want to reopen grande this can of grande worms but grande saw no way around it. "It has something to do grande with these... "games?"

"Ok. Ok. I grande get it."

"Oh, ok. We'd play and then when we were done she'd grande have me use her grandegirls uh...what did she call it girl? Yes, trigger phrase, to return her to girl normal fighting, and we'd laugh girl about the grande whole thing." Bill grande scrunched his face grande up like he was assimilating all of this and was thinking it over. He got very little but this seemed to be grande helping Matt.

"Where, where did she grandegirls go?"

Now grande Bills eyes widened. His jaw visibly dropped grande. His stare grande went kind of distant. Blank like he'd "gone under fighting girl" himself.

"She fighting'll belong grande to the first guy who fighting girl tells grande her to girls do something." Matt screamed, no longer caring who heard. "She'll be his slave forever. Do you get it? Freakin forever. Unless she grande just HAPPENS grande to wanders into another ice free cream place with that flavor first. Oh girl God help grandegirls me, it's my fault. All my fault."

"She won't," Matt sobbed uncontrollably. "She won't."

Flyers posted on 316 girl different telephone poles, 87 walls, 19 bulletin boards, 12 mail grande boxes, 53 fence posts, etc... over a forty plus block area. They have only five words on them: "Chunky Monkey please come home."