♡ Punishment- Hawaiian BBQ Hula Dance ♡

Earlier, Robin's shoulder-guardians had ensured her that if anyone among the Soldiers of Fortune got the bright idea to perforate her squishy human body with a bunch of nasty bullets, they'd be sure to deflect said bullets before she could be hurt.

As Chief Engineer Flowers emerged from her beat-up trailer carrying a makeshift flamethrower, about as tall as her own body, with a big gas tank strapped onto her back with a leather harness, Robin began to wonder if that same protection would extend to deflecting a jet-stream of flames.

"Ha ha ha ha! Don't worry! This isn't for you, silly! It's only for people I don't like! And I like you a lot, Robin Redd!" Flowers giggled, hugging her flamethrower with its nozzle to her cheek as though to demonstrate how she tended to treat those she did like. "I like you because you play fun games with me! So we're going to play another fun game!"

Robin felt a bead of sweat already running down from her brow to her cheek. She was standing ramrod straight with her hands at her sides, stark naked in the center of the camp, surrounded by drooling lesbians of loose scruples, each with biceps twice the size of her own. Flowers wasn't in that category of having muscle mass, but she seemed like the most dangerous of all of them. Robin was truly terrified to see what such an imaginative young woman had cooked up for her.

"There's two things that I'm really in the mood for! A barbecued camp intruder sounds pretty good," she started, raising her flamethrower... then lowering it just as suddenly. "But the thing I reeeeeally want right now is entertainment!"

"Th-Then maybe we should play another game! You were, um, just being misleading with that thing about barbecuing and eating intruders, right?" Robin questioned, pressing her fingers together nervously as her knees knocked together.

"What? No! I didn't say eat, ha ha! Burning stuff is fun just for its own sake! You clearly haven't burnt a lot of stuff before!"

"I guess not..."

"Anyway, what I really want is entertainment! Instead of barbecuing you, I'm gonna make some pineapple-marinade meat skewers for the whole camp! I've got my own special recipe!"

"Oh, that actually sounds really nice."

"It will be! And to really go with that, I want a traditional island luau!"

"Oh... I'm dancing, then?"

"That's right! You're going to dance to the ukulele music from this little radio built into my flamethrower-"

"Why do you have a radio that plays ukulele music built into your flamethrower?"

"For this very occasion, of course! So you're going to dance to that and if you stop or you half-ass it, I'm going to close in the ring of fire around you!"

"R-Ring of fire?"

"Oh right! I forgot the ring of fire! Dummy, Flowers! You love fire!" Flowers laughed, then pushed down the welding mask strapped on over her head. With an upsettlingly discrete tug of her weapon's trigger, she then let loose a deluge of oil, surrounding her would-be hula dancer. She eased off the trigger for a moment, then turned it back on, blasting Robin with another quick splash of oil that left her slick, smelly, and indignant. Her formerly half-black, half-red-dyed hair became fully jet black. "Don't worry! As long as you don't get too close to the fire, you'll be fiiiiine!"

Before the music even started up, Robin found herself hula dancing for dear life, wiggling her hips while pushing out her arms in a sinusoidal motion like lapping waves. It was a remarkably smooth and gentle dance given the circumstances. Strings of oil dripped from her arms and body with each of her movements-- she had to watch them carefully to make sure they didn't draw a path to the rest of the fire.

After getting the music started, Flowers tied a KISS THE COOK apron around her waist, then got to cooking using her flamethrower on what had to be the lowest heat setting it had. It still looked pretty damn hot and her skewers would probably end up blackened by the time it was done. "Ha ha ha! The oil makes your boobs so shiny and bouncy! It's great! Keep dancing! Do a little twirl!"

Robin hadn't seen her glamorous new career as a supernatural casino owner going this way. Obeying the command, she spun around, watching the jeering faces of the other mercenaries as they each got a look at her tits and ass. The ladies didn't seem to be thinking about dinner at all, but they were drooling.

"Now sing! Sing sing sing! Ha ha ha ha ha! Sing Hawai'i Aloha!" Flowers begged.

"I don't know Hawai'i Aloha! What is it with you and Hawaii, anyway!?"

"Oh, I think us mercenaries who mostly get to hang out in badlands and deserts and stuff just crave palm trees and the ocean," Flowers answered with surprising thoughtfulness. "Hawaii is just cool, with all the beaches and the pretty flowers. Anywho, just sing what you do know, then!"

Every possible song had melted out of Robin's head, as though liquefied by the heat surrounding her. "U-Um... Mary had a little lamb little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb~" she babbled helplessly, shaking her hips back and forth with more determination, as though making a more provocative show with her body might draw attention away from how poor her singing was in this instance.

"Ha ha ha ha ha! I love it! You're so fun, Robin Redd! I think I'm in love!" Flowers giggled with mirth, grinning from ear to ear. "Hey, hey! I'll make another skewer just for you!"

Seeing the lamb meat, pineapple, and veggies on the barbie all go from charred to blackened to shriveled, Robin thought that was another item added to the ever-growing checklist of this punishment routine, if anything. The skewers were the second worst treated pitch black object in the camp, as the oil-coated, humiliated card-dealer hula danced on and on, along with the setting sun-- the most exciting luau the Soldiers of Fortune had ever seen.

--YOU LOSE--

Return to the casino and try again!