Gonna have BOMBS, on the BEACH

Today was a glorious day. Not because of the beaming sun, the ocean waves, the opportunity to lie back with a good book...
Those helped, but those weren't the attractions of the day.

No, you see, this was the day that James had finally managed to acquire himself a controlled environment where none would bother him. Such a thing would seem ridiculous when he was in the middle of a populated beach, but there was one thing that tipped the scales.

He'd planted a lovely host of mines in the sands around his deck chair and umbrella.

He cackled to himself, taking a sip of a lovely tropical drink with a little umbrella of his own.

Let the games...begin.

Today was a glorious day. Not because of the beaming sun, the ocean waves, or the opportunity to watch people lying down with a good book...
Those helped, but those weren't the attractions of the day.

Instead, this was the day that Mallory finally got her wish for blowing up. And not just in the medical, engineering, or scientific way. No, this was in the literal way. While walking along the sunny little beach, the crazy lady stepped forwards, interested in looking at the temperature of the waves, before being launched flying in an explosion of light, fire, and Michael Bay's wet dreams. With a loud cacophony, the red head bounced from one explosion to the other in cartoonish cartwheels. Any time she thought the explosion stopped, she just kept spinning in another direction, seeming to land on every mine there was.

And of course, like a normal person, her response was to laugh and grin.

"THIS IS AWESOME! WHEEEE!"

...this wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.

It was happening, wasn't it.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU BLOODY MASOCHISTS?! THOSE ARE EXPLOSIVES! WHY ARE YOU ENJOYING THIS?!"

As the explosions eventually died down and Mallory was eventually reminded of gravity, the maniacally laughing girl turned to face the distressed attendant with a grin that could make the devil shiver. "Isn't it obvious?! Those explosions were high fuckin' quality! The ingenuity behind how they must have been designed, the amount of love and effort put into each destructive, scientific detail! Oh, it was just exhilarating! Then, to get to actually partake in the exploding?! Nothing could be so beautiful as that!"

"Is that so...?" As much as the compliment to his workmanship was much appreciated - he provided nothing but quality, that much you could assure from anything you received from him - it did come somewhat with the caveat that it had elicited completely the opposite reaction to his intention.
And so, there was only one real course of action here.
Double down.

James stood up and fished a pair of canisters from his pockets, tossing them up and down in each hand. "I think I can improve on the experience, if you'd just provide me the chance."
There was a malicious glint in his eye.

As the fellow science maniac held what looked like makeshift grenades in hand, the epitome of stupid genius grinned wide, holding her arms wide to the sides as she made a bigger target of yourself.

"Heck yeah! Let's do this grumpy science man! Fire at will, send me to the damn moon! Let's defy gravity with the science of explosion!"

"You asked for it." He reared back blatantly for the throw...and stopped. "Actually, hold on. This won't do." He places the canisters back in his coat, and starts rummaging around. "No, no...what are those even doing in there?" Faking a puzzled look, he takes a small cluster of what appear to be golf balls, rolling them about one hand as he makes a show of looking them over. "Odd. Hmm. Could you hold onto these while I find something suitable? I presume they're important if I opted to hold onto them, but I'm not quite sure what they are. Here."

Distractedly, he throws them to Mallory with a gentle, underarm toss, right on target and easy to catch as he continues to dig through his pockets.