Pyrotechnics and lasers herald the start of the contest. A fanfare of trumpets and an explosion of drums flood the arena. Podiums descend from the roof—first, the commentator’s podium.

“Hello, you beautiful people! Welcome to the Stepmum Showdown!”

A roar of applause.

“Three endurance challenges aimed at finding the best, the greatest, the most stepmummiest of all stepmums! Each contestant will need their wits, strength, stamina, and heart to complete tasks to gain the coveted title of Warrior Stepmum!”

The crowd erupts.

“First up, Cher-Cules the Great! She cooks, prepares, and packs your lunch in under 30 secooooonds!”

Cher-Cules jumps down, the impact sending vibrations rippling through the arena.

“On my right, Cathy-Carpool! This speedy stepmum will get you and all your friends to school in her souped-up Toyota faster than you can say Gooooo! Next to her this year’s fan favourite, Alice-Atlas, the Gigantoooor! She’s got the world on her shoulders….”

Alice-Atlas smashes a replica globe, spilling candy. Furious clapping as she throws handfuls to the spectators.

He reveals stepmum after stepmum.

“And finally, folks, she may be small in stature, but she’s caring! Wait, what?” Puzzled, he repeats, “Pam-Azon the Caring! Let’s show our stepmums some appreciation, folks.”

Raucous applause.

* * *

“Let the games begin. First, those swimming meets.”

The floor opens, revealing a swimming pool. Pam glances at Cher-Cules, who glares back. Cathy-Carpool is raring to go. Argent-haired Harriet-Harpoon bends into position, trusty barb at her side.

The crack of the starting pistol sends stepmums shooting into the pool.

Cher-Cules, a blur, outflanks Pam, whose powerful strokes slice the water. She barely registers the announcer’s words against her gasps for air in the swirling water.

“… in front…-Cules… she’s… taking… win….”

Pam flips, noticing an empty lane. Where’s Harriet-Harpoon?

Another flip. A dark shadow catches Pam’s eye: something lurks beneath the swimmers. She spots the fin as it breaks through the water and kicks faster.

She reaches the pool’s edge. A siren blares as she pulls herself up.

“You didn’t think we’d make it that easy.”

Ten-inch spikes shoot from the pool edges, lacerating Pam’s hands. She falls.

“It looks like Pam-Azon has gotten some blood in the water. Wouldn’t want to be her, folks.”

A flash of argent hair sends Pam diving to the right as she follows what remains of Harriet-Harpoon’s mangled body.

The shark follows.

Pam wrenches the harpoon from the mutilated warrior, turns, and skewers the incoming shark in the eye. Blood spews from the wound. Its thrashing movements propel Pam backwards, pushing her into the spikes. She tugs frantically at the harpoon, but it’s stuck. She plants her feet firmly on the pool bottom with all her might. Like a champion discus thrower, she hurls the harpooned shark against the spike-ridden wall, impaling it. Running out of air, Pam surfaces, emerging to thunderous applause.

“Looks like sushi for dinner, folks.”

The spikes retract.

Pam passes a towel to Maisie-Medusa, who looks rattled.

* * *

“For the next challenge, folks, our stepmums must know their way around a kitchen. Our fierce competitors will navigate the treacherous conditions created by a faulty fridge freezer.”

The arena darkens. Obliterating the lights is a hundred-foot fridge freezer.

Cher-Cules leaps, burying her ice axe in the appliance. Maisie-Medusa slithers after her.

Pam attaches a rope to a grappling hook and sends it skyward. No joy! Again. It latches onto the handle. Pulling on the rope and securing it, she quickly scales the door, passing the others.

She aims for the freezer handle and lets fly. Success. Searing pain shoots through her calf. Pam plummets, fumbling for her first rope as she freefalls, hurtling towards the door and smashing into it.

Gritting her teeth, Pam pulls the bloody ice axe from her leg.

“Shouldn’t have gotten in my way, newbie,” Cher-Cules snarls as she passes her.

Disapproving murmurs flare in the audience.

Eyes narrowing, Pam steadies herself. Ignoring the pain, she sprints from side to side, gaining momentum.

“Looks like Pam-Azon’s making a play for the freezer rope. A bold move, folks. That’s what we like to see. Who’s with me?”

The crowd goes wild.

A rumble shakes the arena, startling contestants and spectators alike.

“Uh-oh, sounds like an avalanche...”

Massive ice blocks explode from the ice dispenser.

Dodging the frozen chunks of death, Pam leaps, stretching for her second rope. She makes it and hauls ass up the rope. Beside her, stepmums, crushed by cubes, fall. Shards of ice pummel another. Cathy-Carpool crashes to the ground.

Tying her rope around her waist, Pam throws and hooks the top of the freezer door. Anchored, she runs across the icy terrain.

Maisie-Medusa and Cher-Cules watch goggle-eyed as Pam whizzes past them sideways along the freezer.

The awe-struck crowd gasp as she leaps for the top.

“Holy homemade lasagne!”

The crowd yells, “Pam-Azon! Pam-Azon! Pam-Azon!”

* * *

“Folks, it’s time for the ultimate challenge.”

School desks line the arena floor.

“Who doesn’t love homework?”

Groans from the audience.

“First to finish and drop the assignment in the box wins.”

Alice-Atlas sweats, snapping a pencil like a twig. Grunting, she smacks the desk, pulverising it.

“Ooooh, it seems like fractions aren’t Alice-Atlas’ strong suit. That’s a disqualification, folks! You’ve gotta keep your cool with kiddies around.”

World-weary, she storms out.

As Pam finishes, creaking sounds pull her focus. Schoolbags dangle, spinning overhead like Damoclean swords. Pam screams at Maisie-Medusa as the first drops. Too late! She dashes towards the fallen warrior, meteor-like obstacles impeding her every move. Pam rolls, taking Maisie-Medusa with her.

Debris and dust cloud the area.

A hush falls over the spectators.

A shape emerges.

“It’s… Pam-Azon, dragging an unconscious Maisie-Medusa to safety. Never have we seen such stepmumship. This is a first, folks!”

Deafening applause.

Cher-Cules cannons into an unsuspecting Pam, pinning her to the ground.

Above them, the last backpack falls.

Straining every nerve, Pam headbutts Cher-Cules. Flinging the stunned stepmum over her shoulder, she sprints to safety.

“Whew, what a show! It’s all over, folks! Our winner, Pam-Azon the Caring.”