Dean shows off his powers, and Mandy falls for his charms...
“Boy, the only thing I despise of you besides your crimes is your bad use of sarcasm,” I said. “And by the way, ‘Beat It’ - that’s a Michael Jackson song, dude.”
Then I began to spin around, and a flash of white light surrounded me. Scam, Sam, Alex, Gabi, Carmen, Clover and Stella had to shield their eyes.
When the light disappeared, they looked up.
They couldn’t believe their eyes!
I was wearing a white shirt with a picture of a red car, a blue coat with a silver wings pin on the left breast pocket, black Levis, white socks and black penny loafers.
An aqua headband wound itself around my head. And a fedora of black sat upon my head as waves of my raven hair fell straight down my back.
I winked at Scam. He was in shock.
“Oh, Tim Scam,” I said in my best Austin Powers imitation, “be-have!”
Then I gave him a whirligig kick that knocked him off the ladder and right at the feet of the girls and their mothers. He looked up at me. I narrowed my eyes.
After Scam was beaten up by me, I snapped my fingers, and the corsages disappeared. The girls’ moms were back to their normal selves.
"Where are we?" Carmen asked.
"Ugh, who is this guy?" Stella said, scoffing.
Scam passed out after the beating.
"He's…our…tour guide," Clover said. "He was showing us some of the caves on the island."
"Oh," the moms said.
The girls ran up to them and hugged them. The moms looked at each other, puzzled, but returned their own daughter's hugs anyway.
"Whaddya say we get back to the spa?" Alex said while all of us walked out of the cave. "I still need another massage."
"Yeah, I can't believe I left the spa wearing this gritty bathing suit," Stella complained.
In the meanwhile, W.O.O.H.P. agents took Scam into the plane to put him back in jail.
"Hey, that tour guide looked pretty cute," Carmen said to Alex. "You two would make a great couple."
"Mom, you have no idea how wrong you are," Alex said. I was walking with them.
“She’s right, Carmen,” I said. They looked at me, then at my clothes, and looked at each other.
“Look, Carmen, Alex loves you and she respects your opinion,” I continued. “But you must trust the fact that who Alex dates or wants to date is and should be left up to her. You dig?”
“Uh, I think so,” said Carmen. “But what’s with your clothes?”
“It’s part of my image,” I replied.
“And, do you know what kind of guy Alex would want to date?”
“Someone really cute?” Carmen guessed.
“Someone like Michael Jackson - talented, gorgeous, and light on his feet. And that person” - here I slipped my hand into Alex’s - “is me.”