The Return of Meteor Boy? Page 7

  LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK

  PEOPLE

  NAME: Major Bummer. POWER: The ability to depress anyone around him. LIMITATIONS: They’re never as depressed as he is himself. CAREER: After rapid promotions out of one army unit and into another, he finally retired from the military to join the League of Ultimate Goodness. CLASSIFICATION:100 Nobody’s idea of a good time.

  “Thertainly,” he finally replied. “Meteor Boy, ath hith name implieth, hath all the powerth of a meteor.”

  Whistlin’ Dixie nodded for him to continue.

  “He can fly through thpathe, trailing a glowing tail of ithe and thnow behind him.”

  “That’s a comet, not a meteor, seed brain,” I whispered.

  “I meant to thay, that he can thend out pulthes of energy to thtun hith foeth,” he corrected, clearly becoming flustered.

  “Ain’t that what a pulsar does?” Dixie asked him, saving me the trouble.

  “Egthactly.” Melonhead laughed nervously. “I wath jutht tethting you. We all know that Meteor Boy ith . . . yeah that’th it . . . , he’th a robot conthtructed by alienth who are big fanth of the Amathing Indethtructo, and they’ve thent him to Thuperopolith to aid AI in hith never-ending battle againtht villainy.”

  He looked hopefully at Whistlin’ Dixie, but she betrayed none of her thoughts.

  “And now yer answer, Ordinary Boy.”

  “Meteor Boy was a kid just like me who thought it would be incredible to fight crime alongside the greatest hero of them all.”

  I could have said more, but I didn’t. From the kind smile on Whistlin’ Dixie’s face, I could tell I had said just enough.

  “Well, pardners.” She turned to Mannequin and Major Bummer. “I think ah’m ready to cast ma vote. Mannequin, ah reckon’ you should go first.”

  “Zat eez so,” she agreed. “I have no need to zhink long on my decizion. I cast my vote for zee handsome young man vith zee charming manners.”

  As she noticed Melonhead stepping eagerly forward, she quickly added, “Not zee disgusting melon child,” she clarified. “Zee Ordinary Boy.”

  To maintain my classy image, I did not turn to Melonhead and gloat.

  “One vote fer Ordinary Boy,” Dixie recorded. “And you, Major?”

  “Well, Ordinary Boy obviously has a fundamental understanding of who he is and doesn’t appear to be anything but honest with himself. The other kid, however, is clearly delusional and has constructed a world for himself that bears no resemblance to reality. I have no choice but to cast my vote for Cantalopehead.”

  “Thank you, thir, Mithter Major, for thothe kind wordth,” Melonhead gushed. “You’ve alwayth been my favorite member of the League of Ultimate Goodneth.”

  “Well, durn it if we don’t have ourselves a tie,” Whistlin’ Dixie announced as she pointedly glared at Melonhead. “Ah guess it’s all come down to yers truly.”

  Sensing his error, Melonhead quickly tried to make amends.

  “Did I menthion that you’re altho my favorite member of the League of Ultimate Goodneth, Mith Dikthie?”

  “Save yer panderin’, kid,” she replied. “I already made up ma mind. Fer his courtesy, honesty, and respectful thinkin’—and not to mention jes lookin’ more the part—ma vote goes to Ordinary Boy.”

  Melonhead was halfway up in the air with a yippee already forming in his mouth before he realized that it wasn’t his name that had been called. As he came back to the ground in a state of shock, I sincerely thanked each of the judges.

  “But”—Whistlin’ Dixie gave a resigned sigh—“the rules also say we need ourselves a runner-up if the winner ain’t able to carry out his new duties as Meteor Boy. So ah have no choice but to declare that our runner-up is none other than Melonhead.”

  This time he jumped into the air and let the “yippee” fully escape from his lips along with a shower of seeds.

  “And now ah’m durn proud to introduce our new Meteor Boy to the greatest hero ever,” Dixie announced as she gestured behind me.

  I spun around and found myself facing none other than the Amazing Indestructo himself.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A Mess of Motives

  “YOU!” The Amazing Indestructo looked at me with alarm.

  I guess I should consider it a compliment that he remembered me. I mean, I know it had only been a few days since we had met in Professor Brain-Drain’s lair, but I had pegged AI as the type of guy who only showed signs of recognizing someone when he passed by a mirror.

  Of course I had no problem recognizing AI but I also instantly identified the man standing next to him—the Tycoon. The Tycoon’s power was making money, and he had helped the Amazing Indestructo make mountains of it.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you again,” I lied as I stuck out my hand to AI. “And I’d like to thank you once more for saving my life this past week, as well as for the honor of being chosen as the new Meteor Boy.”

  “That’s right.” I watched him visibly hem and haw. “You know all about the original Meteor Boy.”

  Did I ever. Right in front of me, the Amazing Indestructo had crumpled like an empty potato chip bag while Professor Brain-Drain humiliated him over the fate of Meteor Boy and AI’s involvement in it.

  “Don’t worry about it.” The Tycoon elbowed AI. “Professor Brain-Drain’s certainly not able to hold that over your head any longer.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” AI sighed nervously.

  “Of course I’m right,” the Tycoon insisted. “Just like I’m right that now is the perfect time to reintroduce Meteor Boy. The ten collector cards I released by mistake have shown there’s a huge demand for a character the same age as your fans. Those cards are already worth a fortune, and word is building fast.”

  It suddenly occurred to me that the release of Meteor Boy collector cards had not been an accident. The Tycoon had known exactly what he was doing. His next words confirmed it.

  “We’ve been missing out for years on the income that can be generated by products based on an appealing character other kids can relate to. The time to reintroduce your sidekick is now.”

  “You mean he wathn’t a robot thent here by ekthtraterrethtrialth?”

  The Amazing Indestructo’s eyes widened in astonishment as he suddenly noticed Melonhead standing beside me splattering seeds in every possible direction.It was the perfect distraction from his embarrassment at seeing me.

  “Of course not . . . er . . . son?” he said as his confidence returned. “The real story of Meteor Boy has gone untold for far too long.”

  “And now we have the perfect young man to play the part.” The Tycoon swept his hand in my direction, unaware that I was stiffening my resolve despite his flattery. “He’s perfect for the part, and he’ll look even better once he’s wearing this.”

  The Amazing Indestructo whipped out a costume on a hanger from behind his back. It was fantastic! It was deep red with shimmering streaks of gold raining over it like a shower of meteors. It came with a matching gold belt and boots and goggles containing a mirrorlike reddish-gold glass. It looked just like the outfit Meteor Boy was wearing in his collector card picture.

  “Go ahead, kid.”AI laughed as he saw the look of awe spread across my face. “Try it on. We’ll deduct its cost from your first paycheck.”

  “But first sign this,”the Tycoon said as he pulled a sheet of paper from his coat pocket and shoved it in my face. “It will confirm you as the winner of the Meteor Boy role.”

  And legally hand over all my rights to Indestructo Industries, I suspected. What should I do? I had changed my strategy and tried out for the part in order to prevent AI from doing anything insulting to Meteor Boy’s memory. But by signing this contract, I would be committed to doing anything they asked of me. The Meteor Boy costume again caught my eye. I looked down at the jeans and T-shirt which had been my wardrobe for most of my life, and . . . All right, fine. I admit it. My resolve crumbled like potato chips on a casserole. I took the piece of paper from t
he Tycoon, signed it, and shoved it back in his hands. Then I took the costume from AI and headed for a corner of the room where a screen was standing.

  Once I was behind the screen, I was out of my jeans and shirt instantly. Pulling on the tight spandex costume, I began to feel like a real superhero for the first time in my life. But despite my excitement, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation taking place on the other side of the screen.

  “Excellent choice!” AI complimented his teammates.

  “And he’s jes’ cute enough to sell a whole heap o’ posters to an admirin’ crop o’ preteen fillies,” Whistlin’ Dixie added.

  Well, that was a disturbing thought. Maybe I shouldn’t have been listening in.

  “Let’s also not forget, sir, that this boy owes his life to you,” added Major Bummer.

  “Thet’s right!” Dixie added. “Jes’ think o’ the PR, boss. ‘The Amazin’ In-dee-struc-to saves boy an’ then makes him his sidekick.’ The press’ll go loony fer it!”

  “Zat eez not all,” I heard Mannequin speak up. “Are you avare of vhat zis boy’s power eez?”

  Suddenly, even as I was buckling Meteor Boy’s gold belt around my waist, I felt my stomach lurch. Would the exposure of my weakness mess up my chance to be a hero? Mannequin had voted for me. I couldn’t imagine she’d do anything to sink me now. Of course I should have realized that someone else would beat her to it.

  “He doethn’t have any thort of thuperpower at all,” Melonhead volunteered in the most malicious way possible. “He’th ordinary!”

  He had gone right for my most vulnerable spot. Well . . . maybe my second most vulnerable spot. But Mannequin ignored Melonhead’s comment and continued.

  “Zee annoying child eez correct. It eez a vonderful opportunity. He eez a boy vizout a power.”

  “That’s good?” asked AI.

  “Of course,” she replied. “It’s really very zimple. Zee contrast between zee boy and you vill be startling. For instance, I never let myzelf be zeen vith anyvone as beautiful as myzelf. As a result, I look even more beguiling.”

  If Major Bummer and Whistlin’ Dixie were as insulted by this statement as they should have been, I had no way of knowing it from behind my screen. And AI, the person who Mannequin was seen with most of all, clearly didn’t get the slam.

  “Oh, of course,” AI said in a way that told me he had no idea what she was talking about. “But explain for the benefit of the others.”

  I could practically hear Mannequin rolling her eyes, which wasn’t that odd considering her power.

  “It eez like zis,” she explained. “Zee kid has got no power. Zero. Zilch. Zo vhen he appears next to Zuperopolis’s greatest hero—”

  “Me! Right?” AI graciously contributed to the discussion.

  “Yah, yah. You, darling. Who else?” Mannequin continued, sounding a little exasperated. “As I vas saying. Vhen he appears alongside you, heez powerlessness vill only serve to emphasize your own amazing abilities all zee more.”

  “I zee—I mean see,” mulled the Amazing Indestructo, finally getting her gist.

  “And that’s not the only benefit,” added the Tycoon. “Since he signed our contract, he’ll have to remain silent about any potentially . . . embarrassing . . . incidents he may have seen.”

  “That’s right.” AI’s tone brightened. “No matter what he saw or heard in Brain-Drain’s lair, as an employee he’s subject to the same gag rule that applies to everyone who works for Indestructo Industries.”

  Major Bummer started making some gagging noises that I doubt very much were genuine. But I paid no attention. The cynical discussion I had just overheard had made me realize once again how ridiculous it was for me to think that I could have even a make-believe career as a hero.

  I stopped as I was about to put on my gold boots. Who was I fooling? Indestructo Industries was just going to use me. I looked at myself once more in the costume, and then began to take it off.

  I had come here to prevent AI from finding his new Meteor Boy, only to convince myself that I would be the best person to play the part. But as I put my own clothes back on, I suddenly realized there was another way to ruin AI’s plans. With as much pride as I could muster, I stepped out from behind the screen dressed as . . . Ordinary Boy.

  “What’s with the costume?” AI asked in surprise. “Or the lack of it, I mean.”

  “I can’t help you exploit the memory of Meteor Boy,” I informed him as I shoved the costume into his hands. “And you should be ashamed of yourself, trying to make money off a kid you did nothing to protect.”

  I could see AI’s eyes begin to well up and sensed a self-berating about to start. The Tycoon quickly intervened.

  “But it’s too late,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’ve signed a contract. You’ll have to do everything the job calls for.”

  “Really? Take a look at my signature,” I responded.

  The Tycoon unrolled the contract in his hands. His eyes scanned to the bottom and then bulged with frustration.

  “What’s wrong?” Major Bummer asked. “We all saw him sign it.”

  “He signed it ‘Meteor Boy,’” the Tycoon erupted, “not his own name.”

  Without waiting for a response, I headed for the door. When I reached it, I turned and found everyone staring after me dumbfounded.

  “So you want to have a new sidekick with lots of kid appeal fighting alongside you?” I asked AI accusingly. “Well, you got it, because this makes the runner-up the new Meteor Boy—and your new partner.”

  All I heard as the door swung shut was Melonhead’s solitary, excited, “Yippee!”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  What’s the Buzz?

  I had initially feared that letting Melonhead play Meteor Boy would be a disaster—it just took me a little while to realize the disaster would be for AI, not for Meteor Boy’s memory. With a satisfied smile on my face, I pushed the button for the eighth floor to join up with my team. When the car stopped, the doors opened to reveal every kid’s fantasy—an entire floor filled with Amazing Indestructo toys and products.

  There was everything from existing items like the AI Pedal-o-Copter, which I had wanted desperately until the mounting lawsuits caused it to be taken off the market, to the inconceivable, like the Professor Brain-Drain Home Uranium Enrichment Kit, which had apparently been planned and then dropped before it ever got out the door. Hearing voices drifting down the hallway, I made my way past a display of AI action figures that showcased the evolution of his costume from his earliest psychedelic version all the way up to his current model.

  I soon found the Bee Lady. She was sitting in a room, holding a clipboard and jotting down notes as bees buzzed about her head. I poked my head in the doorway and saw that she was watching all four of my teammates through a one-way mirror. They were inside a soundproof room, playing with various items.A hidden microphone was broadcasting their comments. I arrived just as Plasma Girl began arguing with Tadpole over what looked to be a pair of upside-down toilet plungers strapped to his back. Tadpole insisted the device was perfectly safe and proceeded to punch the buttons on a handheld control. He instantly shot to the ceiling where the plunger ends stuck fast, leaving him dangling helplessly. I laughed out loud, which made the Bee Lady notice me.

  “Hey there, honey,” she rasped. “All done with the audition?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but then I got in a fight with AI.”

  “Ha! Good for you, kiddo.” She laughed. “Anyone with a spine, or a mind of his own, eventually gets in a fight with him.”

  “But you work for him!” I reminded her.

  “I work with him,” she corrected. “He knows better than to argue with me. I do what I want down here in product development, and he’s happy with the profits so he leaves me alone.”

  “What are you working on now?” I asked.

  “It’s a rush job. We’re going nuts getting stuff ready for the Meteor Boy launch.”

  I had figured as much. St
ench was holding something that looked like a ray gun with METEOR BLASTER painted on it. As he pulled the trigger, a quarter-size ball shot out of the barrel toward Halogen Boy. Then suddenly, midway through its trajectory, the ball erupted in flames. When it hit Hal his cape briefly caught on fire. He and Stench quickly patted it out.

  “It’s clever the way we got it to erupt in flames,” she half muttered to herself, “but I just don’t think it will pass safety testing.”

  “I hope not!” I said in alarm. “And what’s that thing?” I pointed to what looked like a catapult the size of a coffee table. It said METEOR LAUNCHER on the side. “Isn’t that a little big and dangerous for a toy?”

  “That’s just a prototype, honey,” the Bee Lady informed me. “We build it big to make sure it works, then make a small version for manufacturing.”

  Tadpole had somehow gotten down from the ceiling and was now shoving candy into his mouth.

  “What’s Tadpole eating?”

  “You mean the kid with the tongue?” she asked, looking up from her clipboard.

  We both watched as Tadpole used his tongue to begin stretching out a wad of whatever it was he had just begun chewing. He had anchored one end in his mouth while his tongue pulled and pulled at the sticky-looking substance. We both watched in amazement as he stretched the candy nearly ten feet.

  “We’re calling it Meteor Taffy,” she explained.

  “What does Meteor Boy have to do with taffy?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she admitted. “But we have truckloads of leftover Amazing Indestructo Indestructible Taffy.”

  “I tried that once! It was awful! You could barely chew it.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “The candy division made it too indestructible. So the Tycoon figured he’d use this opportunity to unload some more of it.”

  “That figures,” I said, just as Tadpole let go of the ten-foot-long stretch of taffy. It snapped back, wrapping itself and his tongue around his head. As Tadpole wrestled with the wad of taffy Plasma Girl was examining a miniature kitchen range.