The villain stares down with a grin.

The agent starts to comprehend

That she is now a tool of sin.

‘T were better had she met her end.

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The Agent shrinks, her limbs retreat,

Most of her flesh just flows away.

It’s lost, most of her mortal meat,

leaving a living, conscious toy.

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Oh what a shocking site we see!

Our agent writhes like captured prey,

Cinctured by burning energy.

This really just is not her day.

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What’s this? Some monster-like machine?

With bonds that hold against all strain?

It portends something quite obscene.

(It’s never good to see a drain.)

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Our heroine’s now rendered bare,

Condemned to who knows what grim fate.

Four blackguards pinion her with care.

She struggles, but it’s far too late.

“You little spy, oh shame on you!

With what’s mine you’d fly away?

You must be punished, and I speak true

To tell you you’ll regret this day.”

The villain does some pleasure take

In our agent’s ample charms.

But He’ll retrieve, make no mistake

The book that’s key to endless harms.

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A tiger’s claw of steel lays bare

A stretch of soft and tender skin.

Strong though you are, agent beware!

What process does this act begin?

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Now that his triumph’s come to pass,

The Villain contemplates the deed

He will inflict upon this lass.

She feigns contempt and will not plead.

From a science weapon foul

Energies strike like a maul.

The agent rocks from boot to cowl

And topples like a broken doll.

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