Powerhouse Hard Pressed

by Adam Graham

  Bat-Naomi nabbed his nose with her purple-gloved index finger. “You’re so cute when you’re paranoid.”

  “You’re wonderful all of the time.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her full on the lips.

  After a couple minutes, he sighed and broke off the kissing. “I better get to sleep.”

  Bat-Naomi smiled. “If you need anything, just flash the Batgirl signal.”

  “Okay.” Powerhouse lay down, closed his eyes, and superimagined his costume disappearing save for the Zorro mask and his superhero tights. “Should I let you out?”

  He peeked. He was alone.

  Wow. When Naomi did Batgirl, she really did Batgirl.

  Where was he? Powerhouse flew over the entire convention hall, scanning it. Hey, over there, was a Star Trek exhibit. Naomi loved that show.

  He zoomed in and spotted a short Chewbacca wearing a pink bowtie. Oh yeah, that was who he was looking for. Better give his fan a heroic pose. Powerhouse landed next to Bowtie Chewbacca and placed his hands on his hips. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “You have?” Bowtie Chewbacca played cat’s cradle without any string. “Why?”

  “You said you dabble in science. Do you know about robotics?”

  “Quite a bit, actually.”

  “Good deal, Chewy,” Powerhouse put his arm around his new friend. “I need to design some battle robots really quick and thought you could give me some advice.”

  “You want me to help you build battle robots?”

  “For my little presentation in the auditorium. They’ll be fighting me. I’d ask for Big Gray’s help, but he had to fly to Mongolia.”

  “In that case, I’ll be more than happy to help you build battle robots to fight yourself. Though, this is short notice. I don’t know how I’ll get the parts.”

  Powerhouse waved. “My super-imagination will take care of it.”

  “Splendid.” Bowtie Chewbacca rubbed his furry hands together.

  Powerhouse stopped and pointed at the Marvel booth with statues of their best heroes. “Look! There’s Thor, Spider-Man, and Captain America!”

  “And Irony Man.” Chewbacca chuckled.

  “Don’t you mean Iron Man?”

  “Oh, of course.”

  Mitch strode into his box seat to loud applause. The people love me, and that means they love cynicism.

  The MC said, “Don’t leave your seats, folks! In ten minutes is the presentation of the Invulnerable Powerhouse!”

  Silence buzzed before a few boos rose.

  Fournier entered the box seat, still wearing that ridiculous Wookie costume and carrying a jumbo popcorn and two drinks.

  “Did you hear my speech?” Mitch smirked.

  “I’m afraid the line for snacks was long and the acoustics were bad.”

  “Oh I slayed them! I warned them Powerhouse wanted to return comics to the dark ages of censorship and detailed the dangers of buying any work that has been touched by the hands of hateful fundamentalists like him. I talked about the need to glorify—I mean honestly portray dark, gritty reality. Oh, it stirred them.”

  “Applause kind of seemed moderate, bordering on polite.”

  Said who? Mitch glared. “I thought you said the speech was muffled.”

  “I got back when the applause was starting. My scientific opinion is that it was better than a golf clap but not quite Mythbusters on Campus.”

  “What have you been doing today?”

  “Oh, wandering around.”

  “You learned anything about Powerhouse?”

  “He likes chili fries.”

  What? Mitch arched his left eye brow. “How’d you learn that?”

  “Um, scientific method. He’s also the most powerful human being alive and nigh indestructible. I got that quantified from a close-up standpoint.”

  “No, he’s not indestructible.” Mitch laughed, grinning, and jabbing Chewbacca’s bowtie. “My speech destroyed him. I guarantee it.”

  Fournier hesitated a moment, frowning. He sighed. “On second thought, I have to give you better odds than the Titanic had of not sinking.”

  Best to not even ask how Fournier got there. “Well, I really am unsinkable.”

  Powerhouse carried a doctor's bag as he walked down the tunnel into the arena.

  Kelli Michaels ran up behind him. "Kelli Michaels, Seattle Guardian."

  "Yeah, I know."

  "I have a question."

  Powerhouse rolled his eyes. "Good for you."

  "I want an answer."

  "Sorry, no time."

  Suddenly, she was in front of him. Powerhouse glanced around. "Wait, you were just behind me."

  "Don't change the subject, mister," said Kelli. "I have some questions and I want answers. And the only way you're getting through me is if you move me."

  Powerhouse stepped towards her. "If you insist."

  She put up a hand. "It won't be as easy as you think. Do you really want a commotion. There are about a dozen journalists on the other side of this wall that would come running with cameras." She sent him a pleading look and changed her posture. "Look, I'm just a middle class journalist and I promise I'll quote you accurately. You have my word of honor for some exclusive quotes."

  Powerhouse sighed. She did have to eat and making a ruckus would look bad. "Okay quick."

  "First of all, what do you have to say about Mitch Farrow's allegation about you having a hidden political agenda."

  "I'm going to give my answer in there."

  "Come on, just give me a quote."

  "Okay,. I'm concerned about kids who are hungry and families in trouble. I'm concerned about drug dealers, rapists, murderers, robbers, con men, and people who traffic in human beings. I couldn't care less who the next Governor or President is. I'm all about helping people. That's my main focus."

  "One of our photographers was lured away from his post outside your window by a false text message about Kim Cardassian."

  Powerhouse raised an eyebrow. "Your question."

  "We're very outraged at the Guardian that someone would interfere with a member of the press with false information-"

  Powerhouse crossed his arms. "I'm not exactly thrilled with photographers camping outside my window."

  "Well, do you know anything about it? You have great powers."

  "Why would I try and get reporters to leave by sending them false messages about Star Trek aliens."

  Kelli blinked. "Huh?"

  "You know the Cardassians. They were the ones who ran Deep Space Nine."

  Kelli sighed. "Not Cardassian, Cardashian."

  "Don't even know who that is."

  "I think you're playing dumb, but I'll that pass. There was someone who spotted someone in a batgirl costume on your floor."

  Powerhouse swallowed. Good thing she couldn't see his face. Powerhouse cleared his throat. "So?"

  "Do you know anything about that?"

  "I know this is Comic Con and I've seen several Princess Leias, a Cousnelor Troi, Wonder Woman, and about three or four Batgirls. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a presentation."

  Powerhouse stared at the Chewbacca’s six little robots as they sat before him in the arena: A cobra, a gorilla, a tiger, a zebra, a crocodile, and a buffalo. He imagined the beasts large as life-size, with the cobra five times as large.

  The chubby MC said, “I direct your attention to the middle of the arena, where Powerhouse will now battle six powerful robots for his presentation for this year’s convention. Please note, because of the danger, Powerhouse has put in place a force field generator to protect the audience. It will be turned on once I leave the arena.”

  The MC walked out.

  Powerhouse imagined the arena’s force field turned on as well as his personal force field. Remember, don’t use your superimagination. It doesn’t look as cool in battle.

  The zebra galloped toward him, firing laser beams from its nostrils.

  Powerhouse dodged the laser beams, jumped over the zebra, and
grabbed it by its tail. He flung it into the barrier.

  The zebra bounced back to the ground inoperable.

  The tiger got to him next and flew on top of him. It’s steel teeth and claws lunged for him, slashing against his personal force field. He threw the tiger off.

  It charged back towards him.

  Powerhouse jumped out of the way.

  It charged past him.

  The gorilla grabbed him by the throat and flung him back and forth like the Hulk smashing Loki in the Avengers.

  Hey, this wasn’t in the plan. Powerhouse pressed the button on his arm that turned on his jetpack. The force of the jetpack pulled the gorilla’s arm upward. Powerhouse kicked the gorilla in the head until one kick decapitated the beast and its grip released.

  Powerhouse landed. “Two down, four to go!”

  The cobra wrapped its coils around him and stared into his eyes.

  Those eyes . . . I can’t move.

  It spit venom at him.

  The chemical attack splashed into his force field. Steam began to come off the force field. Egad, this venom is weakening it.

  That venom had to be acid made by that double-crossing Chewbacca. He had to do something quick, or this thing would really kill him.

  Chapter 9

  The Rescue

  The cobra prepared to spit acid at Powerhouse again.

  Miss Invisible appeared beside him. Her right hand at her utility belt, her left hand held her bullwhip, and she was running. She delivered a karate chop to the cobra’s head and sliced it clean off. The body released him.

  Powerhouse shook off the effect of the cobra’s mesmerizing and glanced up at Miss Invisible. “I thought you went away.”

  “Me?” She laughed. “My idea of going away is spending three days invisible.”

  The three remaining robots charged toward them.

  She spun to the robots. “I’ll take the crocodile.”

  The buffalo charged toward Powerhouse.

  He jumped out of the way and the buffalo charged right into the barrier and collapsed against the power of the force field.

  The tiger jumped on him again.

  Powerhouse flipped it with all of his might right into the barrier. “Sorry, kitty. I’m tired of playing with you.”

  Miss Invisible stood by the still crocodile, with her bullwhip muzzling it.

  The crowd burst into applause. Powerhouse shouted into the microphone, “For action, adventure, and fun, read Blue Cat Comics!”

  Powerhouse and Miss Invisible took several bows.

  As they walked away, Powerhouse said, “Thanks for being in the arena. I don’t know if I could have gotten out of that alone.”

  “You’re welcome.” She glanced at the crocodile. “Could you turn this thing off, so I can get my whip back?”

  “Sure.” He superimagined the crocodile shrunk to toy size and did the same with the others that were strewn about the arena.

  “Thank you.” Miss Invisible’s lip wobbled.

  Powerhouse arched his left eyebrow. “What for?”

  “For believing in me. Everyone else is acting like I’m on probation.”

  Mitch Farrow sat in his box seat, scowling. “Why are they cheering for him after everything I said?”

  “Yes, why ever have they already forgotten your dissertation on how they should reject Powerhouse’s comics for not taking the right political stances and for not being based upon the right philosophy?” Fournier smirked. “Unbiased science fiction fans are more impressed with the apolitical, non-philosophical battle. Go figure.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “Oh dear, I was right.” Fournier leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Sir, imagine if someone presented evidence you’re an atheist, and accused all atheists of being guilty of war crimes when you’ve never personally fought in a war. That’s how your speech came across to everyone who doesn’t already share your bias against Christians. I’m concerned your bias could potentially blind you to what the real obstacles are until it’s too late. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not religious, either, but my only vendetta is against anyone who gets in our way. “

  Whatever. Mitch growled. “Yeah, well, right now I’d love to get my hands around the neck of the guy who helped Powerhouse make those robots. Every one of them is a symbol of a hero of my new comic book company.”

  “They are?” Fournier gasped and his eyes widened.

  “Yeah, and Powerhouse just made a monkey of me.”

  “Oh.” Fournier twiddled his thumbs.

  Mitch sighed. “What.”

  “I need a favor from you. I left my wallet in my other Chewbacca costume and need to borrow a couple hundred bucks.”

  I guess he’d consider that a favor. Mitch was swimming in cash with his $600,000 a month salary. Mitch handed him two Franklins. “Leave me alone to brood.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mitch sighed. How did a stupid religious nut manage to win every round? This time, he’d been obviously foiled by the masses’ stupidity.

  His phone beeped. He had a text. Meet me in your suite—Miss Invisible.

  Powerhouse stood with two guys with beards. One wore a baseball cap and the other dressed as a Jedi knight.

  Baseball Cap Guy grinned. “Man, that was awesome! I subscribed to your comic on my Ipad right after the fight.”

  “Thank you, citizen.”

  Naomi came up from behind him wearing a Powerhouse T-shirt and jeans. “Can I have a word with you in private?”

  “Lead the way.” Powerhouse moved through the fans. “Sorry, guys, but 150’s about my limit for photography.”

  Naomi led Powerhouse through the crowd and stopped in a vacant space of the tradeshow floor. “Could you superimagine a private soundproof booth for us?”

  “I can.” Powerhouse visualized a glass enclosure around them.

  “Maybe you could make it so people wouldn’t be able to see in.”

  “Sure.” Powerhouse superimagined black wood on the outside of the glass walls surrounding them. “So what did you want to say?”

  Naomi took two deep breaths. “Just one question.”

  “Sure, anything.”

  Naomi clenched her fists and her eyes widened. “Are you out of your mind? You could have gotten killed out there! I understand dangerous stuff happens when you’re out on the job, but when I saw that acid coming out of that snake’s mouth, I almost had a heart attack.”

  “But you told me to do what I did best.”

  “I meant showing mercy and being enthusiastic, not going in there alone with a snake that would’ve killed you if Miss Invincible hadn’t snuck in. Maybe, if it was part of the plan to have her appear, I’d feel better.”

  “Truth is, the venom wasn’t supposed to be harmful.”

  “Who designed the robot?”

  “Um, the Chewbacca wearing a pink bowtie.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes. “So with all the enemies you have, you just let some guy design deadly robots to battle you?”

  “Who would’ve thought a mad scientist would dress up as Chewbacca? He did give me his address.” Powerhouse pulled out a piece of paper. “Here.”

  Naomi glanced at it and frowned. “This is a PO Box!”

  Powerhouse hunched his shoulders. “So you’re saying this wasn’t too smart.”

  “Letting someone design your robots who didn’t even give their full address?” A tear began to streak down Naomi’s cheek. “You ignored your own lecture to the boys and bought into your press. You heal quickly, you can turn on a personal shield that will stop most things, but you still could die. You need to be careful.”

  “I’m sorry. However, I’ve got to go catch the miscreant.” Having him in custody would make things better, right? Powerhouse made the booth vanish and flew out over the horde of comic fans and several booths. He’d better ask for directions.

  Near one of the Star Wars displays, a short storm trooper stood carrying a blaster and wearing a pink bowtie.r />
  Powerhouse called, “You see a short Chewbacca with a pink bowtie?”

  “In the secondary exhibit hall.” The storm trooper sounded like he had a gas mask on. He waved his blaster. “Move along.”

  “Uh yeah.” Powerhouse ran to the secondary exhibit area and gasped.

  Seventy-five people stood in a line, and all wore a Chewbacca costume. He looked at the whiteboard outside. “Chewbacca Lookalike Contest.”

  Powerhouse scanned the area until he spotted a short one wearing a pink bowtie. Ah ha. He zoomed over and grabbed him by the shoulders. “I’ve been looking for you!”

  A man in a Jedi costume walked up and folded his arms over his chest. “This is not the Chewbacca you’re looking for.”

  Only one thing to say. “Your Jedi mind tricks won’t work on me.”

  “So you actually are looking for my twelve-year-old son?”

  Huh? Powerhouse X-rayed the mask. A twelve-year-old boy stared up at him, his eyes wide and his face pale. “He’s not a mad scientist by any chance, is he?”

  “No.”

  Powerhouse knelt. “Son, a dangerous man gave that bow tie to you to throw me off his trail. Think hard. What did he look like?”

  “A storm trooper wearing a pink bowtie gave me this one. He-he said it’d give me an edge in the contest.”

  “Thanks!” Powerhouse ran back to the Star Wars booth and scanned the area.

  The storm trooper was gone.

  Powerhouse's cell phone rang. "Hello."

  "It's Jeff Murphy. Did you see the Guardian newswire article on your exclusive with Kelli Michaels."

  "No, what did she write?"

  "Oh, she quoted you, but um-let me read you the headline, 'Powerhouse Indifferent to Future of Washington and America.' Lead says, 'Powerhouse declared was completely uninterested who leads America or Washington state, even though…' They basically make you sound like a jerk. If people read down to see you in context, it doesn't look so bad, but."

  Powerhouse sighed. That was the last time he'd trust Kelli Michaels.