"I think we can do better than that," I said. "I'll just remind him that for every one of those kids who gets hurt, I'll pull off one of his limbs."

A drum roll came from the invisible orchestra. Schlein stepped forward.

"And, now, for the final contest, for the all-over winner, the being who will be awarded a once-in-a-lifetime job with Mistress Monestruc, we present The Final Ordeal! As always, the fairness of this contest will be decided by Frankenmuth, Spalanade and Rockrose, our accountants." Three Sittacomedians in blue suits and striped ties stepped forward.

"Does anyone know what we're going to be doing?" Freezia asked. "I'm still tired from the last couple of stunts."

"Will it be like any of those?" Bee asked.

"It could be worse," Melvine said grimly. "I remember one on Trollia where the players threw knives at each other."

Tananda scoffed. "That one was nothing. Bronze knives that didn't go even two inches into the contestants' fur."

"Well, maybe that's so," Bee said. "So the contest might be geared to the team itself?"

"But we're not the home team," Freezia pointed out. "We might get through it, but you're not Pervects."

"I won't hurt any of you," Jinetta insisted. "You're my friends!"

"Whatever happens," Pologne said stolidly, "if I win and any of you survive, I'll give you all jobs—if I have any hiring authority."

"If I make it, I'll heal evetyone," Tolk swore.

Emotions were having a battle royal on Melvine's face. "I really want to win this, guys. But I'll do it fairly, I promise."

"I'll throw it, if I have to," Bee said. "I can't hurt my team. What would Sergeant Swatter say?"

I cleared my throat and turned it into a growl. "He'd say do your best, and play fair."

"Gosh, you're right, sir. You must know Swatter pretty well."

"I do," I said, clearing my throat uncomfortably. "And I know the kind of people he'd pick for a squad. Do what you think he would do."

Bee grinned unexpectedly. "He'd figure out some way everybody could come out of it alive, sir. And Master Skeeve would figure out a way we could all win."

"I—He sure would. Good luck, kid. Good luck to all of you."

"Thanks, Aahz," they chorused.

Schlein struck a pose. "Step forward the Sorcerer's Apprentices!"

The team appeared in a spotlight. They were holding one another's hands and looking young and scared.

We all went up to sit in the bubble with the Geek. The Sorcerer's Apprentices were a team. I was proud of them. In fact, I was sort of proud of me. They had absorbed what I'd been trying to hammer into them about teamwork and delegation and finding their own strengths. I guess I'd done it right. Whatever happened from now on was all their own. I wished them victory.

Schlein swooped in upon the cluster of students and peered at the audience over their shoulders.

"The Sorcerer's Apprentices will decide The Final Question with a killer round of Rock Paper Scissors!"

I gawked.

"Rock-Paper-Scissors?" I looked at the Geek. "After all those brutal rounds?"

The Deveel laughed at me. "You must not watch the show much," he said, leaning back and snapping his fingers. A crystal decanter rose out of a drawer and poured him a dram. "If it looks like the home team is favored, we always have a nonlethal competition set up. The ratings drop pretty badly if we kill off the locals."

"Yeah, but that's a kiddie game. You're insulting your audience."

"S—Aahz!" Bunny said. "You want something more dangerous?"

I waved away her protest. My businessman instincts had kicked in.

"Won't this be the opposite of what they expect?"

The Geek sat up. 'You think this won't get lively? Watch how we do it. Special effects! Music! Lighting! And there's Schlein giving the live commentary. The man's worth his weight—er, a LOT in gold."

The audience was already chanting. "We want the champion! We want the champion!"

"You all know the rules," the Sittacomedian instructed the group. "As soon as the count is complete, present your hand. We're playing this for—sudden death!"

I gulped.

The Geek snorted. "That just means it's not a round-robin contest, Aahz."

"Oh," I said in a small voice.

"Ready—play!"

Spotlights chased around the floor, and sweeping orchestral music boomed up.

"One two three!" the Sorcerer's Apprentices chanted. Pinpoint spots lit their hands individually. Two were holding paper. Three of the others were holding rocks. One had a scissors. Images of parchment scrolls, glittering gemstones, and one pair of gleaming shears overlay the students' hands. The shears attacked one scroll. The remaining parchment covered one gem. The other two gems moved to smash the scissors.

"Tolk, out! Freezia, out! Bee, out!"

BOOM boom boom, came from the drums.

"Three at once," the Geek crowed. "This is great."

I groaned with disappointment for the three students who walked, shoulders hunched, away into the darkness. The music struck up again, more tense than before. The Geek was right: it was thrilling.

The remaining three—Pologne, Jinetta and Melvine—eyed one another suspiciously. Melvine tried to fake out the others.

"One two—not ready," he said, drawing his hand back.

"Stop that!" Pologne snapped.

"We will go on three," Jinetta said firmly. "No hesitation. Ready?"

"Oh, all right," Melvine said sulkily.

"One two three!"

"Paper!" Schlein announced. "Identical choices!" Three rolls of parchment hovered in between the group.

"One two three!"

"Scissors!" Three pairs of scissors.

"Paper!" Three scrolls.

"This is remarkable," Bunny said. "The odds of all of them choosing the same item three times running is—"

"Nine hundred seventy-two to one," the Geek said, rubbing his hands together. "Hold on, I've got to get some action going on this."

He leaned over one of the crystal balls on his desk and started talking to the Deveel who popped up in it. I ignored the complicated negotiations as I watched my students eying one another.

"Rock!" Three gemstones twirled and threw colored lights on their faces.

"Paper!"

"Paper!"

"Scissors!"

"Incredible," Tananda said. "How long can they go on like that?"

"I want to assure you, ladies and gentlemen," the smooth voice of Schlein said, "that there is no collusion between these three individuals. What you are seeing here is unique in the history of Sink or Swim."

"Paper!"

"Rock!"

But even phenomena had to end sooner or later. Pologne stuck her hand out with two fingers parted.

"Scissors!" she cried.

"Rock!" chorused Melvine and Jinetta.

"Ooooh," said the audience.

The music rose chillingly. Pologne stared at her hand with an expression of utter betrayal just before the spotlight cut off, leaving her in darkness.

Melvine hunched over and faced Jinetta. "Just you and me now, doll," he said.

"Go," Jinetta said. "One two three."

"Rock!" Once again, they chose the same item. The audience was cheering wildly. The fireflies were drawing hearts, flowers and fireworks.

"Paper!"

"Scissors!"

"Scissors!"

"Rock!" Melvine shouted, shoving a fist into the light.

"Sciss—"Jinetta realized even before she finished the word that she had chosen a loser. "Scissors."

The orchestra rose into a triumphant fanfare. Schlein rushed over to grab Melvine around the shoulders.

"Congratulations, Melvine! You are the winner of Sink or Swim: Perv!"

"Me?" he asked, in a voice that rose to a squeak.

He looked dazed.

"Snap out of it, kid," Schlein hissed at him.

Melvine looked up at him in astonishment. Schlein beamed.

"Come on over here, Cupy. You're setting out on a whole new life. Tell all of us how you feel!"

For the first time since I had met him, the Cupy guy was lost for words.