The Return of Meteor Boy? Read online

  “Don’t toy with us, proprietor,” Aquarius shouted as she prepared to unleash a new torrent of water.

  “Stay away from him!” I shouted, breaking free of my blissful trance. The entire Commune for Justice turned and stared at me. But before they could say anything, a loud noise from the sky distracted them.

  “Step back, kids!” I heard someone shout. “The League of Ultimate Goodness is here to save the day!”

  I looked up, and to my complete surprise, it was the Crimson Creampuff hurtling toward the ground. I dodged out of the way just in time as he landed with a soft, mushy thud right where I had been standing. Glancing up, I could see the Heliocopter he had fallen from. The League of Ultimate Goodness had indeed come to our rescue—or at least their idea of a rescue.

  “You have one chance to surrender peacefully,” the Crimson Creampuff intoned as he got to his feet, “or face the might of the League of Ultimate Goodness.”

  “Us in the slammer? Show him, Hammer,” Bliss answered with a lazy strum on his ukulele.

  The Hammer lunged forward and buried his fist deep in the Crimson Creampuff’s stomach. But instead of doing any serious damage, his fist sank into the hero’s mushy midsection. Yanking his fist free, he punched again with similar result.

  “Ha-ha-ha,” the hero laughed, “no one can penetrate the awesome power of the Crimson Creampuff!”

  In one sense he was right. No one could take a thrashing like he could. The problem was that he had no idea how to fight back, so basically he just stood there getting beat up as the rest of the villains joined in the pummeling. Before long, though, the Heliocopter bearing the rest of the league members had landed, and the Crimson Creampuff was joined by his comrades.

  “Git yer filthy paws off the Creampuff!”

  I turned to see Whistlin’ Dixie leading a charge of three other members of the league. In addition to the siren of south Superopolis (who could whistle anything in perfect tune), I also recognized Major Bummer, named for his ability to depress anyone near him rather than for his enormous rear end; Spaghetti Man, who could fire long strands of spaghetti from his fingertips; and the Human Compass, who could always tell you which direction was north. Individually they were no threat to villains, but together . . . well, they still weren’t much of a threat. You see, the League of Ultimate Goodness was really the backup team for the Amazing Indestructo. And he had basically handpicked them with one thought in mind: to make him look awesome in comparison.

  LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK

  PEOPLE

  NAME: Crimson Creampuff, The. POWER: Has a body the consistency of a creampuff. LIMITATIONS: Has a body the consistency of a creampuff. CAREER: Fired from his first job at a bakery when it was discovered he didn’t actually have a creamy center, he went on to form the squishy core of the League of Ultimate Goodness. CLASSIFICATION: World’s greatest punching bag.

  “I’ll restrain the fiend who’s attacking the Crimson Creampuff,” declared Spaghetti Man as he struck a heroic pose, pointed his fingers, and produced multiple strands of pasta that wrapped themselves around the Hammer loop after loop. Before the villain knew what had happened he found himself almost completely encased in ropes of spaghetti. Of course, the coils were only as strong as wet spaghetti, so a second later he had broken free to continue pounding the Crimson Creampuff.

  In the meantime, Whistlin’ Dixie unlatched her handy lasso and let it whistle through the air to land directly on Rainbow Rider. Pulling the rope tight, she began hauling the hippie toward her to the accompaniment of a perfectly whistled version of “Git Along, Little Dogies.” The rainbow bands encircling Uncle Fluster’s truck vanished almost immediately when Rainbow Rider’s attention was diverted.

  “The truck is free! It’s just slightly north by northwest of us,” shouted the Human Compass, as if this information was even the least bit useful to anyone.

  Bliss began running for the truck. Before he could get very far, though, he ran smack into Major Bummer and fell to the ground.

  “You’ve ruined my afternoon,” grumped the Major.“I had an appointment to have my back waxed and now I’ll have to reschedule.”

  “Don’t be down, feeling crappy,” Bliss said soothingly from where he sat. “You deserve to be more happy.”

  “I’ll show you my happy side,” Major Bummer said as he turned and sat on top of the startled hippie, practically crushing him with his enormous behind.

  Bliss’s power (apparently the ability to make people feel happy and mellow) had had no effect. Of course, it might have just meant that the Major was happiest when he was depressed.

  “SkyDiamond, baby, you bashful flower” Bliss’s muffled voice cried out from beneath Major Bummer. “Now’s the time to unleash your power.”

  Then I noticed the fifth member of the gang, who had been standing on the sideline. At Bliss’s command, he threw off his big floppy hat and the poncho that was covering him, revealing a body made up of multiple glassy facets. I gasped as the sunlight hit one of them and six more SkyDiamonds appeared from nowhere. A second later they all moved to join in the attack.

  As impossible as it may have seemed, the League of Ultimate Goodness had actually been winning for a moment. But now, with six additional copies of SkyDiamond joining the fight, things had turned in the favor of the crooks. The league needed help.

  “Junior Leaguers!” I hollered. “Let’s get ’em!”

  Whatever trance my team had been placed in by Bliss, it vanished at the sound of my voice, and they dove into battle. Stench was there first, picking up one of the SkyDiamond duplicates and hurling it against two others. Tadpole’s tongue, meanwhile, snaked out and wrapped itself around the legs of another duplicate, pulling them out from under him. I glanced over and saw Halogen Boy taking a drink of apple juice from his sippy cup. I knew that he would soon be illuminating himself to an extreme magnitude of brightness to blind our attackers. Usually, this was a good thing, but in this case it was the worst possible idea. I didn’t know how many copies of himself SkyDiamond was able to create, but I sensed that it was light that allowed him to do it. And Hal was about to give him oodles of it.

  “Plasma Girl!” I yelled. “Cover SkyDiamond—the original one!”

  She knew immediately what I was worried about and ran right for the multifaceted hippie. As Halogen Boy began to grow brighter, a grin began to appear on SkyDiamond’s face. It was quickly obscured as Plasma Girl turned to goo and flung herself onto the villain, spreading herself over him like a thick coating of frosting. His copies all vanished.

  The battle swung back in favor of the League of Ultimate Goodness. But just when I thought we were about to finally wrap things up, an enormous funnel cloud appeared out of thin air. As its winds whipped around, it settled toward the ground, knocking everyone over who was near it. Then suddenly the winds came to a halt and the funnel cloud vanished, revealing a lone figure.

  “Cyclotron,” I whispered to myself. What was Meteor Boy’s now-villainous former teammate doing here?

  “Must I do everything myself?” Cyclotron said to the members of the Commune for Justice who were within earshot. “Even without that loathsome Amazing Indestructo, this league of incompetents is making fools of you.”

  The hippies took full advantage of the confusion his appearance caused. Free of Dixie’s lasso, Rainbow Rider cast an enormous rainbow that arced up to the top of Uncle Fluster’s ice cream truck. She glided up it and came to a stop atop the truck.

  “Hammer!” shouted Aquarius. “Rescue Bliss!”

  Reluctantly turning his attention from the Crimson Creampuff, the Hammer charged toward Major Bummer. Being if nothing else a realist, Major Bummer saw that he wouldn’t be able to withstand the oncoming attack. So he calmly stood up and stepped to the side.

  Bliss and the rest of his gang scurried up the rainbow until they were all standing next to the giant cone atop the Creamatory. The last to join them was the genuine SkyDiamond, who was still covered with a coating of Plasma
Girl. Afraid they were about to escape, I yelled a warning to her.

  “Plasma Girl! Let him go!”

  She oozed off him and reconstituted herself into her normal shape. At the same time, Bliss signaled to the Hammer, who ripped the giant metal cone free of the bolts and brackets that held it in place. Then the villains floated away on a rainbow with only a giant metal cone to show for their efforts.

  I glanced over at Cyclotron, who was watching the hippies escape. When they were safely away, he turned and caught my eye. “It’s a shame the Amazing Indestructo didn’t show his face,” he said to me. “What’s the point of committing a crime if I can’t humiliate him in the process?” Then, with just a tip of his head and an enigmatic smile, he whipped up a funnel cloud and whirled away. He was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

  The members of the League of Ultimate Goodness were suddenly left with no more villains to battle.

  “We did it,” shouted the Crimson Creampuff, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “We saved the day without any help from AI.”

  “An al dente victory, indeed!” agreed Spaghetti Man.

  “It marks a new direction for all of us,” proclaimed the Human Compass.

  “Are you crazy?” I felt the need to speak up. “They got away!”

  “Along with my giant ice cream cone,” pointed out Uncle Fluster.

  Major Bummer just sighed and rolled his eyes, while Whistlin’ Dixie watched the receding villains, a look of concern on her face that I couldn’t help but share.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A Word from Our Sponsor

  When I finally got home, I walked in to find my dad stuffing a Maximizer brand Superdoodler into his mouth.

  “How wuf skul, son?” he asked with his mouth full of snack cake.

  “It was fine,” I fibbed. “On the way home, though, Cyclotron and a group of really old hippies tried to rob Uncle Fluster’s new ice cream truck. The League of Ultimate Goodness showed up to save the day. So of course the crooks got away.”

  “Oh, no.” My dad swallowed the last of his mouthful. “He should have called on the New New Crusaders for help!”

  “I don’t think he even knows you exist,” I replied. “After all, you only formed the group a few days ago.”

  “But we’ve had all this great press,” my father insisted, holding up yesterday’s edition of The Hero Herald. The headline blared: AMAZING INDESTRUCTO SAVES CITY. Below the headline in teensy-weensy type it added: With Help from Unidentified Heroes.

  My dad seemed oblivious to the fact that his team was not only barely mentioned but also entirely unidentified. Personally, I thought this was a good thing since I couldn’t believe what my dad was calling his team. It made them sound like a team of super stutterers. I decided to make my case.

  “But no one knows your team’s name,” I tried to gently point out without hurting his feelings. “Maybe you should change it to something shorter and punchier.”

  “No, no, no,” my dad said. “The name is just fine. What we really need is an endorsement deal. With someone behind us who can promote us there’s no reason the New New Crusaders can’t become the most famous team of superheroes in all Superopolis!”

  As is often the case with my father, when he gets excited he tends to lose control of his power. The newspaper in his hands erupted in flames.

  “My headline!” he shrieked, dropping the paper to the floor and attempting to stomp out the flames with his feet. Just then my mother arrived home with an armload of Mighty Mart shopping bags. Without blinking an eye or setting down the groceries, she focused her gaze on the burning heap of paper and froze it solid, extinguishing the flames in an instant.

  “Thanks, honey,” my dad said as he retrieved his charred newspaper, now encased in a chunk of ice.

  My mom was just coming home from her job at Corpsicle Coolant Corporation. She makes a lot of money there, which is a good thing, since my dad recently went back to being a superhero. It’s hard to make money doing that without a corporate sponsor of some kind.

  “Any progress today?” she asked as she began putting away the groceries.

  “Windbag and I tried pitching our team to the board of directors at Fizzle Pharmaceuticals,” he replied. “We thought we’d be the perfect representatives for their line of youth-enhancing vitamins, but they said we were too old.”

  “But they are made for people way older than you,” I pointed out as I helped my mom unpack the groceries.

  “That’s what we told them,” my father said with a shrug. “They said they only use heroes in their late teens and twenties to make people in their forties and older think that the pills will make them look and feel that age.”

  “Is anyone in the world honest?” I said to no one in particular.

  “That’s not the worst part,” Dad continued. “They actually did end up offering us a sponsorship.”

  “Oh, dear,” my mother said. “What was it for?”

  “Their new line of adult diapers for over-the-hill heroes.” He sighed in humiliation. “They’ve designed them to look like they’re part of a hero’s costume.”

  Mom and I glanced at each other across an uncomfortable silence. Neither of us knew what to say, so Mom just plunged ahead.

  “I think you need to come up with some new ways to get your team some publicity,” she suggested. “It’s not an overnight process. Little by little the team’s reputation will grow.”

  “I guess you’re right.” He sighed.

  “And how was school, OB?” she asked, grateful to switch the subject.

  Dad had asked me the same thing (but with his mouth full) and I had purposely avoided the question. Now with Mom home, I felt a little safer answering it.

  “Principal Doppelganger moved the science fair from the spring all the way up to next week,” I told her out of the corner of my mouth and in the softest voice possible. It wasn’t enough, though. I could tell by the way my dad’s ears perked up that he had heard what I’d said.

  “What about the bake sale?” He jumped into the conversation. “Are they moving the bake sale, too?”

  I knew this was coming. My dad loves the annual bake sale. Don’t ask me why. Despite the fact that he uses the heat from his hands to cook most of our meals, I’ve never thought that he actually enjoys cooking. But for some reason he always looked forward to baking a cake for the school’s annual fund-raiser. The problem is that he’s not very good at baking and he almost always leaves the kitchen looking like a giant cupcake had exploded.

  “Why are they having it so early?” my mother asked, glancing nervously at my father. Mom knew exactly who would be cleaning up the mess.

  “They’re turning it into a big deal this year to tie in to the unveiling of Crispo’s new work,” I explained. “They’re even going to have celebrity judges for our projects.”

  “Celebrities?” My father lit up. “This is it!”

  “What’s it, Thermo?” my mom asked.

  “That’s how we’ll get publicity. The New New Crusaders will participate in the bake sale. Don’t you see? The place will be crawling with reporters.”

  “But they’ll be focused on Crispo’s new project,” my mom pointed out. “Why would they pay any attention to the fact that your team baked a cake for the sale?”

  “We’re not going to bake just one cake . . . ,” my dad said with a look of sly satisfaction on his face.

  Mom and I glanced at each other nervously.

  “ . . . we’re going to bake thousands!”

  From that moment on there was no reasoning with him. He had focused on this cake-baking scheme and nothing would distract him from it. As Mom and I ate dinner, he began mapping out on paper his master plan for the coming week. When I made the mistake of telling him he should put it into a pie chart, he decided that he would also add thousands of pies to his program. Finally I decided to go to bed before I made the situation worse.

  Emptying my pockets, I retrieved the chunk of rock and removed t
he newspaper article it was wrapped in. Could this possibly be a piece of the rare prodigium meteorite mentioned in the clipping? I studied it closely for a minute and then set it next to the Oomphlifier on my nightstand. Examining the article once again, I looked at the photo. There was still one person pictured there who I wasn’t familiar with. Getting out my copy of the Li’l Hero’s Handbook, I turned to the “I’s” in the “People” section.

  Iconoclast, The Id (one of a trio of villains that included the Ego and the SuperEgo), Idle Eyes, Illusionist, Inflato, Inkblot . . . ah, here it was . . . InvisiBoy.

  Vanished entirely? What was the deal with these kids? Meteor Boy was destroyed, Funnel Boy turned into a villain, and InvisiBoy vanished. And then there was Coach Inflato, who was just excessively annoying. Nothing seems to have gone well for any of them.

  As I crawled into bed, my dad knocked on the door. I think he was really coming in to borrow my calculator to figure out how much he was going to need for ingredients, but when he saw me getting into bed he at least paused to say good night.

  “Hey, hero,” he said. “Going to bed already?”

  “It’s almost midnight,” I pointed out.

  “So it is,” he said, glancing at my clock. “Hey, what’s this?”

  Picking up the chunk of rock I had found today, my dad weighed it in his hand.

  “I found it wrapped up in this newspaper article,” I said. “But there’s no date on it. Do you know when this happened?”

  LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK

  PEOPLE

  NAME: InvisiBoy. POWER: The ability to vanish entirely. LIMITATIONS: Appears to lack any physical ability while invisible. CAREER: A fearless daredevil throughout his teen years, his endeavors became increasingly risky, leading to an inevitable result. CLASSIFICATION: Vanished entirely.

  “Meteor Boy,” he replied. “I do remember this event. The papers were full of news about Meteor Boy that weekend, and then that Sunday was the day he disappeared. I remember it because it was the same weekend I asked the Gemini Twins out for a date.”