"Yeah, you kick their asses."

  Ifrit was quite pleased with the rehabilitation she was doing on the minions' health and readiness training.

  Which currently involved something Adder called 'dojo training'. Which apparently involved feeding waves of inept minions into Adder's fists and feet.

  Which, once again, greatly pleased Ifrit. The little piggies needed to be upgraded to little hogs. So as to shame her and her mother a little less.

  And Adder didn't seem to mind it, either.

  "Yeah porky, put up your guard!" as she kicked one minion in the stomach.

  "Up high!" as she threw a straight into another's face.

  "Down low!" as she uppercutted another in the balls.

  Only one was left, and Adder milked the moment a bit, grabbing the guy in a headlock. "Momma's gonna pop your head off. Momma's... gonna.... pop..... your head..... off.." With a crunch the minion's body went limp.

  Adder sighed and stood up. And spat on the unconscious pig. She was sick of this trash that couldn't even put a bruise on her. What was the point of being a sado-masochist, without the masochist part? That Tofu kid could take a punch at least. But he hadn't been coming around lately. She thought he took his 'training' seriously! What the hell has he been doing all this time?!

  "They're pathetic. Only good as cannon fodder for a meat wave attack. That's all they'll ever be."

  Ifrit nodded her head. Trash will always be trash, but there were degrees of trash. Extremely bad trash was better than useless trash. She wouldn't give up on them, even if they had given up on themselves.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Bonehead H woke up, coughing up fluids. It was some kind of recovery pod the eggheads whipped up recently, called an 'Owen Rejuvenation Chamber'. It accelerated a body's recovery, and they had been using it to perform multiple exercise cycles in a single day. It was like a grim forced march of constantly running, lifting weights, and getting beat up by Adder to exhaustion.

  Thankfully, it wasn't all bad. Most of them were actually beginning to actually enjoy getting beaten up by miss Adder. Bonehead H knew he'd never felt happier in his life, than when his face was shoved into Adder's breasts before having his spinal cord forcefully ripped apart.

  How fast a human can change to accept its environment, huh?

  "Eh?" Socket noticed something amiss.

  "Oh dear me, no. What you were supposed to learn was how to do som fightin'. Not to enjoy getting yer asses kicked. Seems like some kind of specification error in your training set. Best ta' let Ifrit know and she can get you lot fixed up."

  So it seemed that their sparring partner for combat training was changed from Adder. Much to her and the minions' displeasure.

  A stoned Warhead was their opponent, and each bout ended with him quickly zim'ing through everybody.

  This resulted in a lot of bisected bodies.... but, well, it seemed like the healing tank could handle that, too. Mostly.

  Bonehead H hoped his future self wouldn't also be changed to be aroused by this kind of thing, too. But you know what they say about hope.