Scan the crowd. (Mystery Woman POV)

Down, forward; down, back, and it snaps back to center; yup, my arcade stick is still functioning perfectly. I shake my myself and brace to go back out there, prepare myself to get ogled by that frenzied audience— this stupid, sexy diving suit I'm wearing is vaccuum-tight, and loves to wedgie; despite every inch of my skin being covered, it leaves almost nothing to the imagination.

Furthermore, this infernal diving helmet meant I didn't get a kiss from the sexiest man I've ever seen, a mega-hunk dressed in the sultry, provocative costume of Remington— and to make matters worse, with my full body costume on, he couldn't recognize me!

Wait, that's right! The Booth Babe was coming to watch me play, wasn't he? I know he missed the first few rounds, because there wasn't any sign of him in the audience when I last was up, but… if there is even a one percent chance that hunk is in attendance I must take it as an absolute certainty. I need to win. I need to impress him. You know… if he's actually here.

I pry fecklessly at my stuck headgear one more time before carrying my arcade controller out with me onto the stage, keeping my posture measured and confident. A rail-thin blonde man decked out in Aquaman's iconic orange scale mail and green tights waits in the middle of the stage; I strut up to my comic book nemesis and give him a firm, competitive handshake, which he eagerly returns.

Standing proud beside my next opponent, head held high, I scan the crowd to see whether the Ahab is present; my eyes drift and dart over the bustling ocean of nerds, until, near the back of the room, I spot him.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Okay, I wasn't even close to ready to see him dressed like that. That has to be the skimpiest angel costume ever made— his everything is on display! His big pecs, those taut, v-cut abs, his totally exposed left hip, and those provocative thigh-highs that climb up his toned legs like ivy… I have the wettest wide-on. So as not to make unjust comparisons, the last costume was equally scant, but this time I can clearly see that Ahab isn't wearing underwear of any kind; even from across the room, there's an outline of his huge cock straining against that skimpy satin wrap. Holy shit.

Wait. Holy shit. He's looking right at me.

Okay, calm down, nobody can see my dropped jaw and they can't tell I'm wet. Just pretend he's fully clothed, and say "Hi"— but I can't actually say hello, on account of the helmet, and I also can't because he's sexy and half-naked— stop freaking out! Just sign at him dammit!!

My index finger singles him out in the throng, and the Booth Babe smiles from ear to ear, a blush creeping onto his handsome features. I feel my heart melt in ecstasy, and take a half-second to gather myself to sign; my fingers dance out the phrase: "Hello, Beautiful, this next victory is for you."

He actually, physically swoons, and I swell with pride, and the feeling that I'm the smoothest lady ever. There's a bosomy, brunette woman in an immaculate Lara Croft cosplay standing right behind him, flexing her fingers as she licks her lips— but right now, I need to focus. After flashing the gorgeous man an uncharacteristic thumbs-up, I turn my back to the audience.

My controller plugs in, I settle into the folding chair, roll my shoulders, and inhale a calming lungful of stagnant helmet-air.

Time to win.