Fortress of the Grannies
We grabbed some cookbooks and marched into the spooky beauty salon. We fit right in with the other grannies. The place was huge and super high-tech. Madam Greed lorded over everything, in her floating La-Z-Boy.
Gramma and her friends were being squirted with gooey hair products. Their hairdos seemed to grow and pulsate before our very eyes.
In another room, we spotted a bunch of giant cages. A few of them even had people in them.
“Look, there’s old man Jorgensen,” said Grampa. “I was wondering why I didn’t see him at rugby practice yesterday.”
Madam Greed gathered the army of grannies together: “Elderly women of Earth. The weapons test last night proved to be a great success. We launch our full-scale attack tomorrow night at nine, right after America’s Top Supermodels.”
“Full-scale attack,” said Grampa. “I don’t like the sound of that. Thank goodness we blend in with these ladies. They don’t suspect a thing.”
