For my brother Jim,
whose love of comics and cartoons
helped warp my mind, too.
CONTENTS
COVER IMAGE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CREDITS PAGE
COPYRIGHT
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
PROLOGUE
With Just a Little Oomph
The fact of the matter is I was lucky to be alive. Only one day earlier, I had been at the mercy of Professor Brain-Drain himself, the most powerful villain of them all. Like everyone else in Superopolis, Professor BrainDrain had a superpower. In his case, it was the ability to drain the intelligence from anyone he could get close enough to touch.
Wait a minute. I said that everyone in Superopolis has a power, but that’s not quite true. Everyone has a power—except me. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t have a clue. My own theory is that my parents’ powers canceled each other out. My dad, Thermo, can make his hands incredibly hot, and my mom, Snowflake, can freeze anything solid just by looking at it.
But anyway, back to Professor Brain-Drain. He had been attempting to destroy Superopolis by burying it under trillions of collector cards with his face on them.He was able to do this for two reasons. One: he had invented a small, handheld device called an Oomphlifier that could magnify anyone’s power a million times. Two: he had drained the brain of another villain, called the Multiplier, to whom he had given the Oomphlifier in order to make the cards.
Fortunately, Professor Brain-Drain’s plan was thwarted, and Superopolis was saved, thanks to me.
Okay . . . so that’s not exactly true. In reality a whole bunch of heroes worked together to put an end to his criminal reign of terror.
For example, there was the brand-new team my dad had just formed. They’re calling themselves the New New Crusaders because their team when they were younger was called the New Crusaders. I really think he could have come up with something a little cleverer, personally. Here’s their old entry from the Li’l Hero’s Handbook:
The handbook is great. It’s full of all sorts of handy information about the people, places, and things in Superopolis.
My own team helped bring down Professor BrainDrain, too. We call ourselves the Junior Leaguers. It includes my best friend, Stench, who’s stronger than just about anything. Unfortunately, that strength extends to other bodily functions, as well. His name probably gives you a hint as to what I mean. Then there’s Tadpole, who can extend his tongue almost twenty feet. Next is Halogen Boy, who can make himself glow really brightly depending on how much apple juice he’s had to drink. Sadly, although Halogen Boy can make himself incredibly bright, the truth is he’s just not very . . . well . . . bright. And then there’s Plasma Girl. We never expected to have a girl on our team, but she’s pretty cool. Sure, she loves all that typical girly stuff like dolls and tea parties, but she can also turn herself into a bubbling mass of gelatinous goo. You have to admire a girl like that.
LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK
PEOPLE
TEAM NAME: The New Crusaders. MEMBERS: Thermo, the Big Bouncer, Windbag, the Levitator, Snowflake, Chrysanthemum. PROFILE: One of the more successful groups of up-and-coming heroes. Managed to burn brightly for several years (due in many cases to Thermo’s inability to control his power), at least until they had to get real jobs. CAREER HIGHLIGHT: Both Thermo and Windbag met their wives on the team, doing each of them a world of good. STATUS: Inactive.
Far less impressive, but also present, were five members of the League of Ultimate Goodness. They’re Superopolis’s premier team of superheroes . . . which is a little odd since they’re also Superopolis’s most incompetent team of superheroes. They’re famous mainly because of their lead member—the Amazing Indestructo. The Amazing Indestructo is an incredible hero. I mean, think about it. The guy is totally indestructible. Absolutely nothing can harm him. Up until recently he was hands down my favorite hero. I—and every other kid I know, for that matter—would have loved to be him. That was until I actually met him.
In reality, AI is kind of a creep. He’s more interested in licensing arrangements and endorsement deals than he is in being a great superhero. My teammates and I saw it all firsthand. But who’s going to believe a bunch of kids, right? Of course, he ended up getting all the credit for defeating Brain-Drain.
Still, he did help save me from a fate worse than death. You see, Professor Brain-Drain was determined to drain away all my intelligence. The last thing I needed was some crazy old man leaving me high and dry in the smarts department. But my dad, with some reluctant help from AI, saved me from that fate, while Professor Brain-Drain and his blimp were destroyed in the volcanic fires of Mount Reliable.
Not everything had been destroyed, though. I had come away from the adventure with a small souvenir. Hesitantly, I opened my hand and looked down at the Oomphlifier resting in my palm. I had picked it up during the final battle with Professor Brain-Drain and the Multiplier. It could magnify someone’s power a million times. Maybe even a person who appeared to have no power would show one if it were amplified enough. I pressed my thumb down on the button. I waited almost a full minute for something—anything!—to happen . . . but I didn’t feel a thing.
With a resigned sigh, I tossed the device onto the top of my dresser and then crawled into bed and shut off the light. What would it be like to have a power? I would never know. I pulled my blanket up to my chin, closed my eyes, and did my best to fall asleep.
CHAPTER ONE
The Picking Order
Being a kid with no superpower in a town where everyone has a superpower can make you feel bad enough all by itself. I guess gym class was invented to rip away any remaining shred of dignity. At least that’s how I felt on Friday afternoon as Coach Inflato lined us up for his twice-weekly ritual of humiliation.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I’m no good at sports. In a fair game I can hold my own pretty well. The problem is, where do you find a fair game when everybody else has some sort of power? The truth is that a lot of the kids in my class have pretty useless powers. Still, guess who almost always gets picked last when it comes time to choose teams?
I prepared myself for the worst as the coach bunched us together in one corner of the school gymnasium. It was a typical basketball court sort of setup, with a stage at one end that was used for school plays and presentations.
I would tell you that Coach Inflato is your typical muscle-bound jock, but that would only give you part of the picture. In fact, his muscles are s
o enormous he looks like he would burst, but usually the only thing to explode is his temper.
“All right, kids,” he hollered as he fished a handful of uninflated soccer balls from a canvas bag. “Today you’re gonna keep yourselves out of my hair by playing dodgeball.”
“But—but—” I started to sputter. Dodgeball had been eliminated from grade school gym classes years ago because the already violent game only got worse when kids with superpowers were added to the mix.
“No buts,” Coach Inflato said. “Dodgeball it is.”
I groaned as I saw Cannonball and the Quake grinning. They knew that this gave them free rein to pummel other kids. To make matters worse, Coach Inflato’s normal routine was to get a game going and then disappear until the end of class. With no adult supervision, things always got out of hand.
“Today’s team captains will be—” The coach paused for a moment as he brought one of the deflated balls to his lips and then in one quick burst filled it to capacity with air. “Cannonball . . . and—”
“Chooth me! Chooth me!” I heard Melonhead, the most annoying kid in my class, shout as he splattered seeds against the back of my neck.
“Stench.”
What a relief! With my buddy as one of the captains,I wouldn’t be in any danger of being picked last.
LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK
PEOPLE
NAME: Coach Inflato. POWER: The ability to pump himself up to impressive proportions. LIMITATIONS: Which mostly turn out to be a lot of hot air. CAREER: Exaggerated claims of heroics have never been verified. CLASSIFICATION: One of the greatest athletes in the history of Superopolis—at least according to him.
“Now choose your teams,” Coach Inflato instructed. “Stench, you go first.”
To no one’s surprise, Stench’s first choice was our fellow Junior Leaguer, Tadpole. It was a smart choice. If there’s anything Tadpole hated, it was losing.
Cannonball’s first choice, however, was a complete surprise.
“I choose Sparkplug,” he said, a confident smirk on his face.
An agitated murmur spread through my classmates as Cannonball’s best friend, Lobster Boy, spoke up. “But what about me?” Lobster Boy’s claws clenched and unclenched as a shocked look of betrayal spread across his face.
But the selection process went on. For the next round the captains had to choose a girl.
“I’ll take Plasma Girl,” Stench said immediately.
Another member of our team and another excellent choice.
“Transparent Girl,” Cannonball countered.
Tadpole snorted.
“Halogen Boy,” Stench responded.
While it would have been nice to be the next person selected, I had to admit that it made more sense to choose Hal. Stench knew that there would be no danger of me being picked by Cannonball, so why not first choose the remaining member of the Junior Leaguers who had a power? I knew that he would pick me next time.
“Foggybottom,” Cannonball said next.
A hushed silence fell over everyone. None of us wanted to look over at Lobster Boy, but we could all sense his dismay.
Foggybottom was sort of a mysterious kid who never really spoke much. He had the ability to create a cloud of fog around himself. I’m not certain how he produced it, but based on his name I had a pretty good guess.
As the choosing continued, with Stench taking Limber Lass and Cannonball picking the Quake, it suddenly became clear to me what Cannonball’s strategy was. His choices all had powers that gave them an enormous advantage in dodgeball. Sparkplug could generate a magnetic force field to protect himself. Transparent Girl could make herself practically invisible. Foggybottom could disappear into a cloud of fog. The Quake could knock anyone off balance who tried to aim a ball at her. And then I realized why Cannonball was not going to choose Lobster Boy.
I was eager for Tadpole and Stench to choose me so I could warn them about Cannonball’s strategy. Unfortunately, Stench’s choice was not what I predicted.
“I’ll take Lobster Boy,” he said cockily, as if he had managed to pull one over on Cannonball.
I could tell by the grin on Cannonball’s face that Stench and Tadpole had walked right into his trap.
And here I was, still unpicked. Then I noticed that Cannonball’s gaze had stopped on me. I could feel his beady eyes boring into me, and I suddenly got the sense that he was going to choose me. I was so horrified that I think I even stopped breathing for a second. Looking straight at me, he made his next choice.
“I’ll take the Spore.”
My breath rushed back out with relief. A second later, I also realized I was incredibly insulted that he hadn’t considered me worthy of being picked. I know that sounds contradictory, but I never claimed to be Logical Boy. As I stood there and fumed, I barely heard Stench make his next choice. But after Cannonball picked the Banshee, I was up again.
“Thelect me, Thtenth,” Melonhead began slobbering. “I’m an athet in any thituathion.”
Despite Melonhead’s self-promotion, Stench didn’t hesitate this time.
“I choose O Boy,” he said guiltily.
I stalked over to join my “team.” I was really annoyed.
“Lobster Boy can’t hold the ball with his claws,” I whispered curtly.
I got only a small sense of satisfaction from the pained looks of realization that spread across their faces. Stench went on with his next selections, which included Little Miss Bubbles and the Human Sponge. That left only Puddle Boy and Melonhead. Stench just shrugged and picked Puddle Boy.
“Tho that’th the thituathion, ith it?” Melonhead laughed as he sprayed seeds everywhere. “Thaving the betht for latht.”
The funny thing about Melonhead was that he actually believed this. Cannonball just rolled his eyes and waved over the final (and most confident) member of his team.
“All right,” Coach Inflato hollered. “Just in case you’ve forgotten the rules: If you get hit by the ball, move your butt back to the jail behind the opposing team. If the ball hits the ground before it hits you, you don’t go to jail. If a person catches a ball, the person who threw it goes to jail. The only way to get out of jail is to get a ball and hit someone on the other team with it. The first team to get all their opponents into jail wins.”
Each of the teams began to spread out on either side of the gym’s center court line. Cannonball’s team took the side near the stage.
“When I blow the whistle, the game begins,” Coach Inflato instructed as he tossed two balls each to both teams. “I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me. However, if anyone disturbs me, they automatically flunk this class.”
This hardly struck me as the type of behavior that would be recommended in any legitimate teaching manual, but I didn’t have time to think about it for long.
The whistle had just blown.
CHAPTER TWO
The Artful Dodger
I barely had a chance to blink before Cannonball launched a ball in my direction with all the propulsive force he could manage. Luckily, I saw it just in time to duck. Lobster Boy was standing behind me, though, and Cannonball’s ball smacked him right in the chest, flinging him back almost eight feet.
I glared at Cannonball as he laughed, then I picked up the ball that had hit Lobster Boy and hurled it back at Cannonball. It was too fast for him to catch, but he easily stepped aside.
It was no mystery why he had gone after me first. Ever since the first day of kindergarten, when he had tried to beat me up but was instead clobbered by Stench, he had wanted revenge. He knew he couldn’t come right out and smack me because Stench would give it back to him a dozen times over. But a dodgeball game was a rare chance to hurt me, and he wasn’t about to waste it.
LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK
PEOPLE
NAME: Cannonball. POWER: Human projectile able to hurl himself with destructive results. LIMITATIONS: Does not fare well against immovable objects. CAREER: Currently enrolled at Watson Elementary, excels at
bowling. CLASSIFICATION: Juvenile record still under seal.
I glanced at Coach Inflato under the delusion that he might do something to prevent any of us suffering serious harm. It was as if he knew what I was thinking.
“Dodgeball builds character,” he said before he turned and headed for his office, strutting like the muscle-bound jock that he was.
I quickly shifted my eyes back to the game, and saw the Quake running toward the center line, a ball cocked back in her arm. Each of her footsteps caused the floor to shake as she rumbled forward. Her target, Little Miss Bubbles, turned and ran screaming in the opposite direction.
“Zigzag!” I hollered after her.
But she ran shrieking toward the back in a straight line and the ball hit her squarely in the back. On impact, bubbles erupted everywhere and were soon floating throughout the gym.
The distraction was short, but it was all Cannonball needed to get me back in his sights. I dove forward onto the ground as his ball came speeding at me. I could feel the rush of air as the ball missed the back of my head by inches.
I looked back up instantly, and I was glad I did. Almost the second Cannonball had gone for me, Stench had aimed a ball squarely at him. I was just in time to see it smack him right in the middle of his big, round belly.
“All this does is change the position that I’m going to be clobbering you from, Powerless Boy.” He said as he passed me on his way to jail. “Your team is rotten, and we’re gonna cream you.”
I could hardly disagree as I gazed around at a scene of utter confusion and panic.
Cannonball’s team currently controlled three of the balls. Sparkplug had one, and Transparent Girl had another. They both were targeting Puddle Boy, who froze in place, blocking his face with his hands. A huge puddle formed beneath his feet, just as both balls hit him.
Cannonball, behind us in the jail, had the third ball. I know he wanted to hit me, but I zipped one way and then another, making it impossible for him to get a clear shot. Instead, he focused on the Human Sponge, who let out a shriek when she noticed. Her first reaction was to run, but she didn’t see where she was going and she tripped and landed right in the middle of the liquid that Puddle Boy had just left on the floor.
The Return of Meteor Boy? Page 1
