The Curse of the Bologna Sandwich (Melvin Beederman, Superhero)
Page 2
Then Melvin looked down at his muddy cape. It had to be against the code to have a cape that looked like that.
7
ALWAYS KEEP YOUR CAPE CLEAN
Yes, it was against the code to have a cape that looked like that.
The next day, Melvin took his cape to the cleaners.
“How’s the superhero business?” asked the man behind the counter.
“Busy,” said Melvin.
“Your cape will be ready in three days.”
“Three days! Holy vacation!”
Holy vacation, indeed! Melvin knew he couldn’t fly without his cape. Not even in six tries. And so he walked home. Melvin Beederman had to take a break from catching bad guys.
This was bad news for everyone in Los Angeles, because right then the McNasty Brothers broke out of jail. Filthy McNasty and his brother, Grunge, to be exact. Those notorious bank robbers and all-around bad guys. They started robbing banks all over the city.
Everyone was crying for help.
“Superhero Melvin, we need you,” said the chief of police.
“Superhero Melvin, where are you?” asked the mayor.
Holy ninety-eight-pound weakling! thought Melvin. This is terrible. He could do nothing without his cape. And he wouldn’t get it back from the cleaners for three days!
Holy ninety-eight pound weakling, indeed! This was terrible. He couldn’t fly. He couldn’t even see through walls.
And the McNasty Brothers, those notorious bank robbers and all-around bad guys, robbed bank after bank after bank.
“Superhero Melvin!” everyone yelled.
It was a cry for help, but Melvin Beederman had to say no. For the first time in his life he broke the code.
8
THE CAPELESS CRUSADER
Everyone was still screaming for help three days later when Melvin went to the cleaners for his cape. The McNasty Brothers were still robbing banks all over Los Angeles. Nobody could stop them.
At the cleaners, Melvin looked at his cape.
“Nice and clean,” said the man behind the counter.
Melvin held it up. “What happened to it?”
“Must have shrunk.”
It sure had. Superhero Melvin’s cape was half its original size.
“No use crying over shrunk cape,” said the man behind the counter. “Go catch bad guys, Melvin Beederman. Go get those McNasty Brothers.”
Melvin took his cape and left. He had to catch those McNasty Brothers. Besides, a cape was a cape, no matter what size. A superhero was a superhero. And his town needed him.
He went behind the store and put on the extra-small cape. He didn’t want anyone to count how many times it took him to get up and flying.
“Up, up, and away.”
Crash!
“Up, up, and away.”
Splat!
Melvin didn’t worry about it until he had tried to get off the ground six times. Then his sixth try came and went, and he started worrying.
Seven. Thud!
Eight. Kabonk!
No matter how many times he tried, Melvin couldn’t get up in the air.
Twenty-nine. Crash!
Thirty. Splat!
It was no use. Melvin couldn’t fly.
“Superhero Melvin, where are you?” Everyone was crying for help. And Filthy McNasty and his brother, Grunge, kept robbing banks.
9
MEANWHILE …
While Superhero Melvin was busy losing his superpowers, Candace Brinkwater was busy getting ready for her school play.
“Did you finish your homework?” her mother asked, helping her daughter get dressed.
“I hate word problems,” Candace said. Boy, did she. The only thing worse than word problems was vegetables.
“You can finish your math when you get home from the play.” Mrs. Brinkwater was as excited as Candace about the play, but that didn’t mean she would let her daughter neglect her studies.
Candace would almost rather eat vegetables. Almost.
“What on earth happened to your cape?” her mother asked suddenly, holding it up. She put the cape on Candace. It was so long that it dragged on the floor.
“Something must have happened to it at the cleaners,” Candace said. “Maybe Milo can fix it.”
“We don’t have time for Milo the Wonder Tailor.”
This was a problem. Who ever heard of Little Red Riding Hood dragging her cape in the dirt? If there was a code for little girls in red capes, Candace would be breaking it for sure.
But as her mother said, they had no time to fix it. And as they say, the show must go on. It did.
When Candace stepped onto the stage that night, dragging her long cape behind her, the crowd roared with laughter—teachers, parents, the sound man named Fred.
Candace tripped over the cape many times during the play. This just caused more laughter.
Later, when she got to Grandmother’s house, she knocked on the door so hard that the house began to fall down. Candace rushed in, grabbed the wolf and her tied-up grandmother, and carried them to safety as the house crashed to the floor.
The crowd cheered.
“What a finale!”
“She’s the best Little Red Riding Hood I’ve ever seen.”
“And the strongest.”
“She’ll never play a weed again.”
Candace held Grandmother and the wolf, and looked out at the crowd. She loved the cheers. She loved the applause.
Only one thing bothered her: Why was everyone in their underwear?
10
UNSUPERHERO CARL
While Melvin Beederman was busy losing his superpowers and Candace Brinkwater was busy rescuing wolves and tied-up grandmothers, Superhero Carl was behaving very unsuperhero-ish.
People vacationing in Fiji were being robbed.
A lady’s purse was snatched from right under her nose. A kid’s skateboard was grabbed from right under his feet!
“Somebody help!” they yelled.
A cry for help. The code did say “Never say no to a cry for help.” But Superhero Carl was too busy to bother.
Now that Headmaster Spinner wasn’t watching, Carl didn’t care about the code. He spent his time in his hotel room on the beach and worked on his Web site. Outside his window someone ran by with a purse and a skateboard. Carl did nothing about it.
He typed on his computer. “Melvin Beederman,” he sneered, “you’re about to have a very bad day.”
11
SLOWER THAN A SPEEDING BULLET
Melvin Beederman was having more than a bad day. He was having bad days. After trying to get off the ground 642 times—Crash! Splat! Thud! Kabonk!—he returned to his tree house.
He looked at himself in his full-length mirror. He was bruised and grass stained. Worse than that, he looked ridiculous in his tiny cape. “Holy I-look-like-poop!” he said to himself. “This is bad news.”
Holy he-looks-like-poop, indeed! This was bad news.
What to do? He wandered around the tree house thinking.
Then he got an idea. Maybe he couldn’t fly, but he could still run.
Melvin dusted himself off, cleaned up his bruises, and set off for the track at the local college. He remembered a time when he was as fast as a speeding bullet. He had to test himself.
“Mind if I run a few with you boys?” he asked, stepping up to the starting line of the hundred-yard dash.
The runners looked up.
“Look, it’s Superhero Melvin!”
“Oh, no, we’ll lose for sure. He’s fast as a speeding bullet.”
“What happened to your cape?”
“Haven’t you heard of Milo the Wonder Tailor?”
Melvin ignored the questions.
The coach said, “On your mark. Get set. Go!”
Melvin Beederman finished last.
The runners cheered. It was the first time any of them had beaten a superhero.
“Let’s go catch bad guys,” one of them said. If they could
outrun Melvin Beederman, they could certainly catch bad guys.
* * *
Next Melvin went to the local high school. These guys were younger.
“Mind if I run a few with you boys?” he asked.
“Hey, it’s Superhero Melvin!”
“What happened to your cape?”
Melvin shrugged and stepped up to the starting line. Someone whispered, “I hear he’s fast as a speeding bullet.”
The coach pointed a pistol in the air. “On your mark. Get set.” Bang!
Melvin Beederman finished last.
There was only one thing to do: Try his luck at the junior high.
* * *
These guys were even smaller. And younger. Shorter legs.
He couldn’t possibly finish last here. Melvin puffed out his chest. “Mind if I run a few with you boys?” he asked in his deepest voice.
“What happened to your—”
“It shrank, okay?” Melvin said. He was already ashamed of his tiny cape. Did they have to keep asking about it?
He stepped up to the starting line.
The coach said, “On your mark. Get set. Go!”
Once again, last place. “Holy slow poke! This is horrible!” Melvin said.
Holy slow poke, indeed! Horrible, horrible, horrible.
All the children wanted to go catch bad guys.
Melvin thought of trying his luck at the local elementary school, but what if he lost again … to a bunch of third-graders? Some things were just too depressing. So instead, he went home. Back to the tree house to think things over.
* * *
That night he watched The Adventures of Thunderman. Thunderman was so busy catching bad guys that he hired an assistant to help him. Her name was Thunder Thighs.
12
MEANWHILE …
Candace Brinkwater couldn’t stop thinking about it: the cheers, the applause, the underwear. That night, after the play, she slept in her oversized cape.
The next day, she wore her cape to school.
Mr. Crimshaw, the principal, told her how much he enjoyed the show. He promised that she would never again play a weed.
“Thanks, Mr. Crimshaw,” she said, then whispered to herself, “Nice boxers.”
At recess Candace decided to join in a game of kickball. When it was her turn at the plate, the other kids made fun of her.
“Look, it’s Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Easy out.”
“Move in, everybody.”
Candace had never been great at sports. She was the only kid to strike out in kickball nine times in a row.
But now, here came the pitch.…
Candace reared back and kicked with everything she had. The ball sailed over the school. A home run! Candace’s team won the game. And nobody saw that ball again.
The players on the other team couldn’t believe their eyes. They watched with their mouths hanging open as Candace rounded the bases.
She did a victory dance on home plate with the rest of her team.
Now, with no ball, the game was over. Candace wandered over to the basketball court and joined the game. Someone passed her the ball under the basket, and Candace slammed it through the hoop. The only third-grader ever to slam-dunk!
“Holy sports-hero!” Candace said.
Holy sports-hero, indeed! First kickball, then basketball.
Word spread quickly.
“Did you see Candace Brinkwater in the kickball game?”
“What about that slam-dunk?”
In the days that followed, every team wanted Candace.
“We get Candace.”
“No, you don’t. We do.”
She hit the tetherball so hard that it snapped the rope like it was spaghetti. More kick balls disappeared over the school, never to be seen again. She scored 500 points in a single basketball game. All dunks.
The boys were very impressed with her one-arm push-ups.
“Eighty-two, eighty-three…”
“Go, Candace, go!”
But that was only the beginning. One day she was in class, working on a nasty word problem (she still hated math), when she heard something. Whispers.
“Shh … quiet now.”
She looked at her classmates. They were all busy with math.
She went back to her word problem. Then she heard it again.
“Got it. Let’s go.” She heard footsteps. What was going on? Change jingled.
Candace jumped up. “Somebody’s stealing the milk money!”
She dashed out of the room and down the hall, her extra-long cape flying behind her. Two sixth-graders were coming out of the office with their pockets bulging.
She grabbed them by their collars and held them until Principal Crimshaw got there.
“Thank you, Candace,” he said.
Candace smiled. She felt like telling him she was just doing her job.
Word got around that not only could Candace Brinkwater slam-dunk and break the tetherball rope, but you had better behave around her, too. She’d started showing up just in the nick of time to save little kids from being pounded on by big kids.
It didn’t take long for bullies to start tipping their ball caps when they passed her in the hall. “Good morning, Miss Brinkwater.”
No one had ever called her Miss Brinkwater before.
By the end of the week she was flying.
This happened by accident. It was at the all-school track meet. Candace never liked sports of any kind, and she liked running least of all. But lately that had all changed. She felt strong, light on her feet. Something inside her told her she was as fast as a speeding bullet.
She stepped up to the starting line of the hundred-yard dash.
Principal Crimshaw pointed a pistol in the air. “On your mark, get set.” Bang!
Candace zoomed down the track in world-record time: just three and a half seconds. She leaped for joy, and then … she just kept going up. She flew around the school yard. Everyone cheered.
A few people thought she was a bird or a plane.
Nope. Just Candace Brinkwater, third-grade superhero.
That night on the TV, Candace heard a report on the McNasty Brothers, those notorious bank robbers and all-around bad guys. They were still at it. The police were helpless.
“It’s time to stop those guys,” she said, looking down at her extra-long cape.
13
PARTNERS IN UNCRIME
All Melvin’s powers were gone. He couldn’t fly, couldn’t run. True, he hadn’t seen anyone’s underwear in days, but now he almost missed even that.
Almost.
He was no longer Superhero Melvin. He was just plain old Melvin Beederman. And now that he was 3,000 miles away from his friends at the academy, he was more alone than ever.
He searched his memory. What did the code say about losing your powers?
It didn’t say anything. He was completely on his own. Not even the code could help.
Melvin wandered around his tree house thinking.
“Maybe I can start with something easy,” he said to himself. It was all he could think of. Start simple and work up.
Maybe he could rescue a cat from a tree or help an old lady across the street. Before long he would be catching bad guys again.
Maybe.
Melvin climbed down from the tree house. He was careful not to jump. Then he went into town.
The streets were crowded—shoppers, storekeepers, a garbage man named Fred. Melvin looked up at the tall buildings. A couple of people saw his small cape and told him about Milo the Wonder Tailor.
And then he heard it.
“Stop! Thief!”
Melvin saw a man running, holding a lady’s purse.
“Stop that purse snatcher!”
Melvin ran after him. He was nowhere near as fast as a speeding bullet. But it was a cry for help, and the code must be followed.
Melvin ran as fast as he could.
Then a flash of red zoomed past him, headi
ng in the same direction. When Melvin arrived at the corner, breathing hard, he saw a little girl with an oversized cape hanging on to the purse snatcher and smiling. The police showed up a few moments later and took the bad guy away.
Melvin would recognize that cape anywhere.
“That … gasp … is … gasp … my cape,” he said, out of breath. He took off his mini one and handed it to her. “I think this one is yours.”
This made perfect sense. Candace’s cape dragged on the ground, while Melvin’s was way too short.
But instead of being happy, all Candace could think about was the kickball game, the basketball game, catching the milk money thieves … and now a purse snatcher. What about the McNastys? Weren’t they next on her list?
“But I really like being a superhero,” she said, taking off her cape.
“I like it more,” Melvin said. He put on his cape and walked away. Suddenly, everywhere he looked—underwear. He was back to normal.
“But, but, but…,” the girl pleaded as Melvin kept walking.
Halfway down the block he stopped and turned. Wait a minute, he thought. Even Thunderman had a superhero assistant.
He had an idea.
* * *
That night Milo the Wonder Tailor worked late. He took Melvin Beederman’s cape and made it into two capes. He even added a little material so that it still reached down to Melvin’s ankles. And now Candace’s cape no longer dragged on the ground.
And for the first time in history, Los Angeles, California, had two superheroes at the same time.
“Teammates?” Melvin said to Candace.
“Teammates,” Candace replied.
“Let’s go get those McNasty Brothers. Up, up, and away.”
Candace was up and flying on the first try … but not Melvin.…
Crash!
“Be with you in a moment,” he said, brushing himself off.
Splat!
Thud!
Kabonk!
Some things never changed.
14
THE McNASTYS