[ EU ] You are part of the sub-avengers , a group of superheroes with average powers who have to go around cleaning up after the mess the avengers made of New York

After the heroes and the supervillains were through fighting in an area of the city, teams were sent in to clean up after them. Most of the Cleaning Crew consisted of people who actually cleared the streets of ruined buildings, flattened cars, dead bodies etc., but there was always at least two structural engineers and what seemed to Mollie as way too few private security to keep the rest of the crew safe. 
 Mollie ’ s partner had disappeared, again, after they had been stationed at a street near the edge of the zone where the latest Bad Alien had slammed StudMuffin into a building which dominoed down the next two buildings too. She noticed a thin teen wearing a hat low on his face coming out of a nearby building that had boards nailed to the windows and doors to prevent further looting. He was carrying a large box. 
 
 “ You with the box! Why are you here?! This area is restricted! ” Mollie called out as she approached him. 
 He swore at her using every curse word he knew all strung together haphazardly. She was in front of him when he reached into his pocket and started to pull out something metallic. 
 Mollie spun him around by one arm, and put the cuffs on him before he knew what was going on. The shiny ( weapon? ) thing had flown from his grasp and now lay against the building. So did his hat. Mollie really didn ’ t see them; she was appalled to see that countless giant blackheads on the back of his neck were matched by those on his face. 
 
 The overaged brat, as Mollie now thought of him because like a two year old, many emotions played across his face. When rage seemed to win the emotion war, she really thought he was going to throw a tantrum! 
 Instead, a new power suddenly manifested and each of the blackheads lengthened and became a tentacle! 
 In horror Mollie watched a thousand thin tentacles come towards her! Then they started slapping her face like a little girl fighting! 
 She opened her mouth to scream, but moist blackhead tentacles went into her mouth! 
 The revulsion was so strong, vomit leapt out of her open mouth like a lawn geyser! She had always laughed at the old SNL skits featuring ‘ vomit ’ hoses up a sleeve because she thought it was so unlikely, but now she was doing it. The geyser painted a growing starburst pattern square on his chest. After he uncontrollably vomited too, the tentacles beat at her even harder, breaking off pieces of themselves as they hit her face. Surely the vomit must stop soon, thought Mollie. But then she noticed the pieces of blackhead, and wave upon wave of violent revulsion caused her to paint him like a firehose from his head with all the ghastly tentacles to his new sneakers, using never before tasted varieties of bile and intestinal fluid. She felt an odd feeling inside her butt and growing horror in the seconds between realization and something solid shooting out of her mouth. 
 She dry heaved for a few minutes. The vomit covered tentacled teen had apparently fainted when he was hit by the projectile. She herself was covered in vomit and ( don ’ t think about it! ) blackhead tentacle pieces. She looked at him again. “ He ’ s got poop in his hair! No one will ever believe I didn ’ t poop on him after vomiting him into submission! They ’ ll call me Vomit Woman! That ’ s even worse than my real so-called talent! ” 
 She had to clean them up, she had to. She looked around for a hose, anything. Nothing. Nothing. 
 She looked around for observers, then she used her talent. The Horde could clean anything, quickly. She called them from her body, from her skin, and within minutes all the vomit was gone. 
 ‘ His shirt is permanently discolored from your stomach acid ’ said the Horde. 
 ‘ It ’ s a good pattern. ’ Said Mollie unconcernedly while she looked for the metal thing the looter had gotten from his pocket. She found it: a ring of keys. The first one she tried fit the lock of the store the teenager had come out of. She looked in the box: two dozen ice cream sandwiches. 
 She looked at the tentacled horror. ‘ Can you clean the tentacles off him? ’ 
 ‘ Of course! We can even make it so he is unable to have blackheads or make tentacles, ’ said the Horde. Sometimes Mollie wondered if the Horde really was intelligent bacteria or if they were something else. They seemed to act like bacteria most of the time. And she could talk to them, but unlike regular bacteria the Horde talked back. 
 ‘ No. Let him make tentacles later if he wants. Just make his skin look clean. ’ She took off the handcuffs. ( Yes, totally against protocol, but he wasn ’ t a looter. Just an idiot. A mouthy idiot. ) She leaned him against the building in sort of a sitting position and put his hat on him and his keys back into his pocket. 
 ‘ Is he OK? ’ she asked. ‘ Anything broken? ’ 
 ‘ His creatures report all is normal; however we can give his creatures ring plans for enzymes so he can better enjoy the ice cream. ’ 
 ‘ Good idea ’ said Mollie. After the Horde had done so, Mollie woke the young man up. 
 “ Hey! Hey! You can ’ t sleep here! ” 
 He started awake and looked around him wildly. The last thing he remembered was horrors: tentacles extruded from his skin and vomit, so much vomit! But there wasn ’ t even a hint of the odor. He felt his face. It was smooth, no tentacles. He sighed in relief and began to gather up his hat and box. 
 “ Don ’ t forget to lock the door, ” called Mollie as she walked away. 

