As soon as the word is out, I'm launching bolas and firing off my taser arm. My alpha-strike misses and I quickly retract the bolas before they can be vine-wrapped.
"You seem agitated," Basil notes. Stars, is this guy always so stolid? "Is it because you want me to fight at full power like I did against your friend?"
"Friend is a strong word," I scowl. "She's someone I get along with. Which makes four and a half people."
"A half?" Basil punches the ground and draws out a vine instead of dodging my next series of shocks. The vine takes the bolt and, well, grounds it. But that gives me an idea.
"Quit stalling, let us dance!" I shout, ignoring his last question, pushing my little slice of precognition to help me dodge.
"What did you say to me?" Basil finally shows some emotion.
Wait, what? I think back on my words. Ohhhh! This is going to be good...
"If you don't want to fight, then you can just leaf!"
I keep up the fire, knowing that if he stops he can put down vines through the ground.
After thirty more seconds of the dance- with a generous helping of puns, he crues out.
"Gah! You are the most infuriating-" He grows his mask on at the last word, which muffles the sound of the last word."
"Aww, thank you! I do identify as a bitch." I say the word without a shred of propriety or hesitation. This calls for a light, half-second cackle, and a hearty salad pun. "I'm insulted you think insulting me's a big dill."
The eye twitch gives it away. That exasperated emotion that can only come from the lowest of comedic bars: Puns. Mom jokes (since it's salad and not, say, beer).
He snaps a rapid growth of vine my way.
"Someone's getting berry mad."
"Shut up!" he tries the same trick, adding a backspin that launches a spring-shaped vine.
"If you're going to be a hero, shouldn't you romaine calm!"
"Better a hero than a-" he mumbles, saying the word that makes me cackle for a good second. Self-censoring at its finest. Truly a TV hero.
"Oh come on, you can say it, 'Bitch!' Bitchity-bitch-bitch-Biiiitch! Or did mommy and daddy never let you swear?" I dodge a pair of spring-loaded vines aimed at my head; or rather my mouth. "No reason to be meloncholy about it!"
"That's IT!" he stands his ground. "I can see the only thing your nature will respond to is force."
He pushes down with both his feet and his hands, and suddenly vines erupt from a circle of ground all around me. "You wanted my full power? Let's see if you can take it."
I smirk as the first vine reaches me and wraps around my waist. I fire a few shots to make myself seem desperate, withering one vine as I confirm my suspicions.
All according to plan.
It takes him moments to wrap me all the way up to my chin, snapping my taser arm. "I know what kind of person you are now. Without your weapons, you are nothing!"
"Oh no! Unkind words!" I lay on the sarcasm. "How will I ever pear it?"
Now I hear the whole crowd cringe, Fiona in particular.
"That was pretty strained, even compared to mom..."
You try coming up with salad puns on the fly!
"It's over. Surrender," Basil says. I can hear the spit hitting the inside of his mask.
"Hold on one second." I bite into the oversized vine on my chin and chew.
The crowd recoils at the sight.
"Did she just eat him?!" "Does that count as cannibalism?" "Ugh, just finish her already!" "That was in the ground..." The last line comes from Fiona, but I ignore it as a familiar taste fills my mouth.
Quick history lesson: Railroad corporations, in their short-term sense of genius, introduced a particular vine from Japan to keep plants away from their tracks. Cut to the turn of the millennium, and some people realize it's actually edible and rather nutritious. Fast forward about two centuries and now everyone's "doing their part" to eat through the invasive species. One mom at a time.
"Yep," I swallow, eliciting sounds of shock and horror from the crowd. "That's kudzu."
Quick biology lesson: Any plant with a cardiovascular system is electrically conductive.
And I'm fully charged.
"Your nature is abhorrent to me. I won't say it again. Surrender!" Basil shouts.
Ugh. Fancy words don't make you intimidating. It just means you have a thesaurus.
"Get tossed," I unleash my full charge along his vines, withering them all the way to his arms and legs, which happen to survive just long enough to form a complete circuit.
A moment later, I land on my feet - immunity to electric shocks up to a point is really handy given my output - while Basil lands on his knees.
I waste no time wrapping him up in my bolas.
"Looking a little dry there," I note, given all the dead, brown vines still attached to his arms. "Are you going to surrender or do I have to dry you out some more?"
"Ghch..." The words crawl out of his mouth like a caterpillar escaping its cocoon. "I surrender..."
"Match, Aislin!" Night Woman snaps as soon as the last syllable escapes Basil.
I help him up. What? I'm not entirely without sportswomanship. And leave him to the medics as they rush the field.
Basil sighs as I turn away. "Good fight. I should never have let you get under my skin like that."
"Eh, I give it two out of ten. Unlike you, I'm not all bark."
Given the lightness of my tone, even Basil finally cracks a laugh.
"You're such a bitch," he says.
"I know."