by Greg Trine
The newspaper headlines read “Kidnappers Attempt Takeover by Stealing Mayor’s Dog.”
It wasn’t long before the chief of police called Melvin Beederman. Melvin was having his breakfast and watching a rerun of The Adventures of Thunderman with Hugo when the phone rang.
“Melvin, we need your help,” the chief of police said. “Someone has kidnapped the mayor’s dog and is trying to take over the city.”
“Ha! I knew trouble was brewing.” Melvin tried not to sound excited. After all, poor Schnitzel could be in danger. But Melvin couldn’t help himself. Finally, he had a real mission, something worthy of his superhero powers. “Don’t worry, Your Highness, I’m on the job.”
“Your Highness?”
“I mean, Your Chief-of-Policeness.”
“That’s better.”
Melvin hung up the phone and turned to Hugo. “Gotta go catch a bad guy or two.”
“Squeakity squeak squeak,” Hugo said. This either meant “You just saved the world yesterday” or “I need a back rub.”
Melvin didn’t have time to figure out what his rat was trying to say. He had a city to save, and a wiener dog to rescue.
“Up, up, and away.” He threw himself out of the tree house.
Like always, he was up and flying in five. He zoomed, he streaked, he zigged, he zagged. He had to find those kidnappers before they did something devious and sinister to the mayor’s dog—or worse, before they took over the city.
The kidnappers had given the mayor one day to make up his mind, otherwise it would be curtains for his beloved Schnitzel.
“Holy I-only-have-one-day,” said Melvin, looking down at the people of Los Angeles and seeing way too much underwear. “That’s not long.”
Holy he-only-has-one-day, indeed! It wasn’t long. Better get cracking, Melvin.
Melvin did. Or at least he tried to. He’d need his partner in uncrime to solve this one.
* * *
Now that Chantelle and Brittany had Schnitzel, they could no longer use the dressing room at Macy’s as their lair. Instead, they used Chantelle’s bedroom, which was right down the hall from Brittany’s.
The two girls kept the dog gagged so that he wouldn’t make any noise. They only took the handkerchief off to feed him. Everything was going as planned. In another day the city would be theirs.
Little did they know that Schnitzel was plotting his escape. That’s not to say his escape attempt would be successful. He was just planning it.
They also didn’t know that Melvin Beederman was on the job, and if anyone could stop them, he could—with the help of his partner in uncrime, Candace Brinkwater, of course.
Brittany turned to Chantelle. “What should we call ourselves?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean when we take over the city. We can’t call ourselves mayor. That’s too boring.”
“How about queen?” Chantelle suggested. “I’ll be queen for a week, then it’ll be your turn. We’ll switch off.”
“Like, that’ll be way cool.”
This was their plan, anyway. And since they were fairly new to the whole take-over-the-city business, it seemed as good a plan as any.
11
DOCTOR DOOLITTLE, I PRESUME?
Tick tick tick. That’s the clock ticking. The narrator is trying to make the reader anxious about the mayor’s dog, Schnitzel.
Time was running out, and Melvin Beederman hadn’t turned up anything. He’d spent the morning talking to people in the mayor’s neighborhood. Maybe someone had seen something—a mysterious car, a stranger in a trench coat with dark glasses and a fake mustache.
Pick a cliché, any cliché.
No one had seen a thing. The kidnappers must be pros, Melvin thought. Which meant that if they didn’t get what they wanted, they’d do what they said they’d do. They’d kill Schnitzel. Or worse—they’d make him do homework!
At three o’clock he met Candace Brinkwater at the local library. He filled her in on the case.
“You know what I think?” she said.
“What?”
“If this dog is in danger, maybe we should skip math today.”
“What about your math grade?”
“What if they kill the dog? Or worse—what if they feed him junk food?”
“Hey, don’t knock it. I eat pretzels all day long.”
Candace thought this over. “Hmm … good point.” She was rather fond of pretzels herself.
They skipped math anyway. The case was too important. So was Schnitzel.
Their plan was to continue doing what Melvin had started—interviewing people in the mayor’s neighborhood. So far, no one had seen anything, but the superheroes had to keep looking.
Tick tick tick. Are you getting anxious? Good.
Time was indeed running out. Melvin and Candace decided to split up. “You take Maple Street,” Melvin said. “And I’ll take Mills and Telegraph.”
All afternoon they interviewed people. Fat people, skinny people, people who climbed on rocks. But no one had seen a thing. The kidnappers were good, all right. They were pros.
Melvin and Candace met up again at the end of the day.
“Any leads?” Melvin asked.
“None. You?”
“Nope.” Melvin walked Candace home. He didn’t feel like flying. He didn’t feel like crashing, splatting, thudding, and kabonking after such a long day of failing. “We might have to work all night on this one, Candace.”
“Anything to keep me away from homework would be much appreciated.”
Late that night Melvin came back to Candace’s house and threw a pebble at her bedroom window. This was part of the Sneaking Out at Night Code. Someone had to throw a pebble at a bedroom window. It was a rule.
Candace opened her window and looked down at her partner in uncrime. “I wish you’d come earlier. I ended up doing homework. Eew!”
Eew, indeed!
Candace joined Melvin and they took off. Or at least Candace did. Melvin joined her on the fifth try, as usual.
“I have an idea,” Candace said as they hovered above the trees.
“I’m listening.”
“We interviewed every person in the mayor’s neighborhood and no one saw a thing, right?”
“Right.”
“What about animals?”
Melvin scratched his head. It was his fault for waking up his partner in the middle of a sound sleep. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. “Animals?” he said.
“Yes, let’s interview the local animals. They notice everything.”
“It’s late, Candace. I better take you home.” Melvin put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off.
“I’m serious. If we interview the animals we may come up with something.”
Melvin gave her a look. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly fluent in dog or cat, let alone lizard.”
“Neither am I, but I know a rat who is.”
“Hugo?”
“Hugo,” Candace said.
Melvin was beginning to understand. Maybe Candace wasn’t sleep-deprived after all. But there was a problem. After Hugo conducted the interviews, how would they get the information from him? Melvin couldn’t speak rat.
“Your plan might not work,” he told her as they flew over to his tree house.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t speak rat.”
Candace grinned. “That’s okay. I can.”
12
THE BIRTH OF A SIDEKICK
The mayor, who was also the mad scientist, was pretty upset that someone had stolen Schnitzel. He loved that little guy, even though Schnitzel had stolen the milk shake … uh … evil potion. Ever since then, the mad scientist had been trying to whip up another one, so that he could make his son, Mike, more evil. He had to do something. Mike had recently invited a superhero right into his lair … uh … home.
Mike, of course, didn’t want any of this mad scientist business. His goal in life was to be
a superhero’s sidekick. He subscribed to Sidekick’s Monthly, where they advertised for sidekicks. He had also ordered a sidekick’s uniform and was in his room trying it on when his mad scientist/mayor father burst in.
“What’s going on here?” his father demanded.
“Uh … I’m trying on my … uh … my costume … for Halloween. Yeah, that’s it. My Halloween costume. How do you like this purple cape, Dad?”
The mad scientist raised one of his hairy eyebrows. “Halloween is months away.”
“You can never be too prepared. You taught me that, Dad. Always be prepared.”
“Be prepared when you’re trying to take over the world!” He looked closely at his son’s sidekick uniform. “What’s with the tights? Are you supposed be some kind of elf?”
The son snorted. “Elves don’t wear capes, Dad.”
The mad scientist went out of the room, slamming the door behind him. It was bad enough that someone had stolen his dog. Now he had a son in tights!
After his father left the room, Mike went back to reading Sidekick’s Monthly. There were lots of interesting articles—“Keeping the Sidekick’s Code,” “Cape Design and Maintenance,” and “Superheroes Are from Mars, Sidekicks Are from Venus.”
One thing was clear from the reading he’d done. In order to get a job as a sidekick, you had to prove yourself first. Mike decided to do just that. He would prove himself to the superhero world and to his father. He would find Schnitzel and bring him back.
He adjusted his cape, gave his tights a tug, and set off.
* * *
While the mad scientist’s son was out looking to solve the case of the missing wiener dog, Melvin and Candace were trying to explain their plan to Hugo.
“Squeak squeakity,” Hugo replied.
“What did he say?” Melvin asked Candace.
“He said he’ll do anything to save a dog. Just don’t ask him to save a cat.”
Melvin picked up Hugo and placed him on his shoulder. “Hold on tight,” he told him. “Up, up, and—”
“Wait a second!” Candace grabbed Hugo. “Better let me carry him.”
“Why?”
“Crash, splat, thud, kabonk? You don’t want to squash our Dr. Doolittle here.”
“Good point.” Melvin climbed down from the tree house. “Up, up, and away.” And, of course, it was just as Candace predicted. He crashed, he splatted, he thudded, he kabonked. On the fifth try he was up and flying, with his partner in uncrime and his faithful pet Hugo alongside him.
“Squeak,” Hugo said.
“What did he say?” Melvin asked.
“He’s just glad that I’m the one who’s carrying him.”
They sped across the sky. Somewhere there was an animal who had seen something the night Schnitzel was kidnapped. They had to find him before time ran out.
Tick tick tick.
“I sure wish the narrator would stop doing that,” Candace said.
Melvin nodded. “I know what you mean.”
13
JETHRO GULL
“I miss our lair at Macy’s,” Brittany said.
“Me, too, but there’s nothing we can do about that now,” Chantelle replied. This was true. Macy’s had been a good lair. You had to love a lair where you could try on the latest fashions while coming up with devious and sinister plans. “For our next crime we’ll, like, move back to the mall. How does that sound?”
“Awesome.”
For now, the two Valley girls–turned-dognappers had to use Chantelle’s bedroom for their lair. While they waited for the mayor to turn over control of the city to them, they discussed the future and the changes they’d make.
“How about Shopping Day?” Brittany suggested. “All high school kids get a day off to go shopping.”
“Totally!” Chantelle said. “And no homework—ever!”
Two airheads putting their heads together was a dangerous thing. Los Angeles would never be the same.
Fortunately, Melvin, Candace, and Hugo were on the job. They spotted two stray dogs sniffing a fire hydrant and dropped from the sky to ask a few questions.
“Squeak squeak?” Hugo said, giving his whiskers a little twitch.
One of the dogs looked up. “Grrrr.”
Candace asked Hugo to interpret.
“Squeaker squeakity,” Hugo replied.
“What did he say?” Melvin asked.
“According to Hugo the dog said, ‘Grrrr.’”
“Tell him to try again.”
Hugo tried again, this time with a little more whisker twitching. You can never have too much whisker twitching.
This time the dogs barked and ruffed.
“They haven’t seen anything,” Candace said after Hugo passed along the message.
And so the threesome moved on. They interviewed a few squirrels, a cat, and a seagull named Jethro. But just like the dogs, they hadn’t seen a thing on the night of the dognapping.
“What do we do now?” Candace asked as Jethro took to the sky.
“Keep an eye on Jethro,” Melvin said. “You know what seagulls do once they’re airborne.”
“I was talking about the case.”
Melvin pointed to two hawks sitting on a tree limb. “More interviews,” he said.
Candace picked up Hugo and lifted off the ground. Melvin did things his way.
The two hawks eyed Melvin and Candace with suspicion. They looked at Hugo and drooled.
One of the hawks squawked at the other. “Is that a wiener dog or a rat?”
“I think it’s a rat, but don’t quote me.”
All Melvin and Candace heard was hawk language, of course. But Hugo knew what they were saying. He also saw their sharp claws and their drool. Lucky for him, he had two superheroes to protect him.
He looked at one of the hawks. “Squeaker squeakity?”
At last, somebody who knew something. The hawks had seen two girls in the neighborhood, one of them holding a gagged wiener dog or rat.
Hugo asked for a description of the girls and their car. Then he translated the information to Candace, who relayed it to Melvin, who jotted it down in a notepad. This was good detective work—complicated, but good.
Now they had something to go on. Now they could solve the case.
14
VALLEY GIRLS
Word got around that two superheroes and a rat were hot on the trail. And these two superheroes were none other than Melvin Beederman and Candace Brinkwater.
“Like, what do we do now?” Brittany asked. She knew full well that bad guys trembled at the sound of Melvin’s name. They probably did the same at the sound of Candace’s.
There was only one thing to do—make bologna sandwiches. The two superheroes grew weak in the presence of bologna. But would it be enough?
“There’s something else we can do,” Chantelle said, finishing the last sandwich. “Follow me.”
They went down to the garage, where their Valley girl/dognapper vehicle was parked. Chantelle turned to Brittany. “Melvin is as fast as a speeding bullet, right?”
“That’s what they say.”
“Have you ever heard of Gamma Drive?”
“Nope. What is it?”
Chantelle popped the hood of the car and lifted it up. “If it’s, like, good enough for evil aliens, it’s good enough for us.”
“How do you know about the evil aliens?”
Chantelle hesitated. She didn’t want Brittany to know she’d left her story on the narrator’s desk. But she told her the rest. “I took a peek at one of the narrator’s manuscripts.” Then she pulled the instructions she’d stolen from her back pocket. “Gamma Drive—this is going to be big!”
“Book seven or eight?”
“I’m not sure. I think it was eight.”
“Will it, like, make us fast as a speeding bullet?” Brittany gave her hair a flick.
“It’ll make us plenty fast,” Chantelle said. “If Melvin Beederman gets in our way, we’ll, like, run him over.�
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Brittany looked at her friend. “I’ve never run over a superhero before, but I’m very open to new experiences.”
“So am I,” Chantelle said, grabbing a wrench. “Let’s get to work.”
They did. They worked and worked and worked. “Are you sure you’re reading that right?” Brittany asked after some time. “Duct tape and a screwdriver?”
Chantelle nodded and pointed to the instructions. “Unless the narrator got it wrong.”
The narrator never gets things wrong!
In the end, the car not only had the superfast Gamma Drive, but it was extremely quiet, which would be good for sneaking up behind superheroes and running them over.
This gave Chantelle an idea. She closed the hood of the car and looked at Brittany. “Why wait for them to find us?”
“Who?”
“Melvin Beederman and his sidekick. We have, like, Gamma Drive now. Let’s hunt them down and run them over. Then nothing can stop us from taking over the city.”
Brittany agreed that this was a good idea. She was really looking forward to being queen of her very own city. And so they grabbed the bologna sandwiches and set off, silently, into the night. With any luck, Melvin would soon go SPLAT like he’d never gone SPLAT before. So would Candace.
The car zoomed, maybe not as fast as a speeding bullet, but pretty close. Close enough to hunt down a superhero or two—especially if they didn’t hear anything coming.
“Too bad we don’t have a cloaking device,” Brittany said. “That would, like, make it easier to sneak up on them.”
“Shoot!” Chantelle said. “I should have read more of that manuscript. Aliens have such cool stuff.”
15
SPEAKING OF ALIENS …
While Brittany and Chantelle were out looking for a couple of superheroes to run down, the evil aliens finally reached Alphacentory. The question is Did they turn the right way or the wrong way? The right way would take them toward Earth. The wrong way would take them someplace else.
The narrator is not telling. This is how he keeps readers in suspense. It’s kind of like that tick tick tick thing, only it involves creatures from outer space.
