The Extraordinary Adventures of Ordinary Boy, Book One: The Hero Revealed

by Boniface, William

  “I could save Superopolis, too,” the Inkblot grumbled, “if the consarned thing ever erupted in ink.”

  This brought me back to the issue at hand.

  “Inkblot, are these all the cards that you have?” I asked, trying not to sound desperate.

  “Sure are,” he replied. “I just put ’em out about an hour ago. Only sold one other pack, so far.”

  We all looked at each other in despair. Could it have been the one with our card?

  “In fact,” the Inkblot continued, “there’s the little tyke that I sold it to, right over there.”

  He pointed to a kid who couldn’t have been much older than four. He was standing near a park bench with his mother and was just opening a pack of cards. We all gasped as we saw him reveal first one card with AI on it and then a second that clearly showed Professor Brain-Drain himself. The little kid snarled.

  “Professor Brain-Drain?” he growled. “I hate Professor Brain-Drain. He’s evil!”

  Then, as we stood there helplessly, the kid took the card, crumpled it up, and tossed it into his mouth. That’s when we noticed that his teeth were all sharp points of metal. It only took a couple of chews before he spit the completely ground-up card onto the sidewalk.

  One Professor Brain-Drain card destroyed—only two left in all Superopolis.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Anthill of Terror

  We all stood looking down at the chewed-up remains of one of the only three Professor Brain-Drain collector cards in existence. The little monster who had left it in this state was now strolling away with his mother. As I stared after him, I thought I saw a shadowy figure moving in the trees nearby. But then I blinked, and it was gone.

  “We were so close!” wailed Tadpole.

  “But at least it proves that O Boy’s theory is correct,” Plasma Girl added, trying to sound optimistic. “Now we just have to figure out where the next one is and get to it first.”

  “Do you know where it is, O Boy?” Hal asked hopefully.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about the second type of rock, sedimentary,” I said. “You guys all remember what sedimentary rock is, right?”

  “Um, sure,” said Stench. “But go ahead and remind us anyway.”

  The rest of the gang nodded.

  “Right,” I said, even though I could tell they had no idea. “Sedimentary rock is made up of small particles that accumulate over long periods of time. As weight presses them down, these particles, or sediment, fuse together and become rock. So the next location to check is obvious.”

  “It is?” said Hal.

  “Of course,” I replied. “We can’t get at the sedimentary rock that is buried under layers and layers of earth, but it always has to start out as a top layer at some point.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following you,” said Stench.

  “Let me give you one more hint. One of the most common types of sedimentary rock is sandstone.”

  “The beach!” said Plasma Girl.

  “Right,” I replied. “The sedimentary rock of the future exists right now in the form of sand all over MegaManly Beach.”

  “There’s only one place at the beach that might have AI Collector Cards,” said Plasma Girl, “and that’s Aunty Penny’s Arcade.”

  A boardwalk separates downtown from the beach, and there’s an entire strip of cool shops set up along it. The one we were heading for was Aunty Penny’s Arcade. You could get all sorts of neat things there. But you couldn’t buy them—you had to win them. There were dozens of different games to play to win tickets, which you could exchange for incredible prizes. Well, okay, most of the prizes were pretty chintzy. But who cares! The fun was in winning them.

  The first thing we saw as we entered the arcade was the huge sign that said: THE USE OF SUPER POWERS IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. That’s what I always liked about this place. Everyone else was on an equal level with me. In fact, I usually had an advantage, because most people in Superopolis are helpless when they can’t use their powers.

  The second thing I noticed was the box of Amazing Indestructo Collector Card packs that was sitting smack at the front of the prize display case. I went up to the counter to talk to Fly Guy, the manager of Aunty Penny’s Arcade. Of course, he isn’t actually a fly. In fact he looks completely human—except for his eyes. They bulge out from his head, and each one has dozens of facets that allow him to see what is going on all over the place. He also sort of buzzes when he talks, but he only does that to scare

  the littler kids into thinking he really is a fly.

  “How long have you had these available?” I asked, pointing at the cards.

  “I just put ’em out today, kidzzz,” he buzzed. “Only thirteen prizzze tickets will get you a pack.”

  “How many packs are there total?”

  “Thirty-six,” he answered. “You could be the first to claim them azzz a prizzze.”

  “Fantastic!” I said. “We’re going to win every one of them!”

  “Just make sure you don’t use any superpowerzzz,” he added suspiciously, “or I’ll toss you out of here on your buttzzz.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, there won’t be any danger of that.”

  I returned to where the rest of the team was waiting and explained to them that we could get a pack for every thirteen tickets we won. Unfortunately, if the right pack was the last one in the box, it would ultimately require 468 tickets to get it.

  “It stinks that we can’t just sneak a look at them and find the one we need,” Stench said.

  “That’s not all that stinks,” added Plasma Girl, as she, Tadpole, and Hal began backing away from Stench.

  “Sorry.” He shrugged, reaching for one of his canisters of deodorizer. “That happens sometimes when I get upset.”

  “Unfortunately, we can’t get a look at them unless we win them,” I explained. “Why don’t you go over to the Anthill of Terror, Stench, since you’re always good at that. And we’ll go try some of the games over here.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I can take a hint,” Stench grumbled. Turning, he stalked off in the opposite direction, fuming in more ways than one.

  From a safe distance, I kept one eye on Stench as he wandered over to where an anthill rose about five feet off the floor. It had a three-foot-high plastic wall surrounding it and scary-looking neon letters mounted above that proclaimed: THE ANTHILL OF TERROR!

  Stench picked up a fishing pole that had a magnet swinging at the end of its line. He dropped a quarter into a coin slot next to the game. The anthill immediately started rumbling. A few seconds later dozens and dozens of plastic ants began pouring out of the top and sliding down the sides. The ants were made out of plastic, but some of them also had a metal ball bearing inside. These were the ones that Stench was after. He swung his line over the plastic wall smack into a pile of the churning critters, then reeled it back in with one of the ants sticking to the magnet.

  Lifting it over the wall, he removed the ant and quickly recast his line. Ants were still pouring from the hill, but they were also disappearing into a channel in the base. His second cast landed in the biggest pile of the tumbling “terror” ants. But each time he raised his line there was nothing attached to it. After two attempts, he only captured one more ant.

  The number of ants now coming out of the top began to dwindle. Stench had never gotten fewer than five ants. He threw his line once again into a mass of the seething insects, and once again came up empty. The ants had now stopped emerging, and the ones that were still visible were quickly reaching the base and vanishing. In a last desperate act, he swung his line over one of the last remaining ants and it rose up and attached itself to the magnet.

  “What’s the deal with the Anthill of Terror?” I heard Stench gripe to Fly Guy. “I’ve always gotten at least five.”

  “That wazzz the problem, kid,” he buzzed. “Everyone else did, too. So I took out half the ball bearingzzz.”

  “Does Aunty Penny know you’re giving her a bad name
?” Stench asked.

  “It wazzz her idea. She needzzz the money to pay for her new nozzze job.”

  “That reeks,” Stench mumbled to himself as he dropped his ants into a box alongside the anthill. It spit

  out three tickets in exchange. “At this rate it will take forever to get the four hundred and sixty-eight tickets we need.” Not to mention cost a fortune in the process, I thought.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Winner Takes None

  It was a frustrated and irritated Stench who made his way back to where Tadpole and I were playing Bonk the Squirrels.

  “Did you see how I got robbed?” he asked me. “I only managed to get three tickets off the Anthill of Terror.”

  “That stinks,” Tadpole said. Cautiously, he sniffed the air to make sure nothing else stank. Then, winding up his arm, he pitched the large plastic acorn in his fist at a small circular opening. Inside was a flat metal plate that was painted to look like a taunting squirrel. The acorn hit the squirrel smack in the chest, knocking it flat on its back, and five tickets were spit out of a slot right next to where Tadpole was standing.

  “Excellent,” Stench said as the flattened squirrel sprang back up. “How many tickets do you have so far?”

  “Only ten,” Tadpole answered sadly. “That was my first five-pointer. The others have all been for only one or two tickets. O Boy’s doing better.”

  He was right but only by a little. I had twelve tickets so far. Bonk the Squirrels was usually my best game, but not today. The game consists of a large wall with a tree painted on it and lots of openings cut into the bushy part. Within each circle is a squirrel. Some of the circles are large, making the squirrels easy to hit. The only problem is you don’t get many tickets for hitting those. The circles get smaller as you go higher up the tree. They’re harder to hit, but you can get a lot more points. Of course, up at the top is the smallest circle of all. It’s worth five hundred tickets. Nobody’s ever managed to knock over that squirrel, though.

  “I can usually do better,” I explained as I put in a quarter and got three more plastic acorns to throw, “but they don’t seem to be falling over as easily as they used to.”

  “Fly Guy probably tightened the springs,” Stench suggested, “just like he removed half the ball bearings in the Anthill of Terror.”

  I pitched an acorn straight at a squirrel that was worth ten points. It came incredibly close but caught

  the edge of the opening and ricocheted off to the side.

  “We’re never going to get what we need at this rate,” I said in frustration, “unless one of us can hit the five-hundred pointer.”

  “Give it a shot.” Tadpole shrugged. “You might actually get it.”

  What the heck, I decided. I concentrated as hard as I could and wound up my pitch. With my eye glued to the spot, I threw the acorn, and it went sailing up toward its mark. To the complete surprise of all of us, it slipped perfectly through the tiny opening and hit the squirrel head-on.

  “You hit it!” Tadpole and Stench both said in amazement.

  But the squirrel didn’t fall backward. As the acorn dropped away, the squirrel remained standing, its big buck teeth sticking out from its mocking grin.

  “You totally had it, O Boy!” Tadpole complained. “What a rip-off.”

  “I’m beginning to think this whole place is a rip-off,” Stench added, glancing accusingly over toward Fly Guy. He had his eyes all over us and a smirk on his face.

  “You know what?” Tadpole whispered to us. “If there was a way to get all those eyes off us, I bet I could find out what’s up with that squirrel.”

  “Good idea,” I agreed. “Let’s get Plasma Girl and Hal. I may have a plan.”

  Plasma Girl was playing a round of Earthquake in Doll Land, but her character, Princess Patty-Cake, had just fallen into a crevice.

  “I only managed to save two of the princess’s unicorns before the royal stables collapsed,” she said glumly, showing me the two tickets she had won.

  “Don’t worry about that for now,” I said. “We’re changing strategies. Let’s get Hal.”

  We expected to find Hal at his favorite game, Toss the Cookies, but instead he’d found a new game we hadn’t seen before at Aunty Penny’s Arcade. It was called the Amazing Indestructo Retirement Fund Game and it had lights and buzzers all over it. The only instructions were on a sign that read: HELP THE AMAZING INDESTRUCTO FEND OFF AN INSOLVENT FUTURE! (Insert 25 cents). As we approached, Hal put in a quarter. All the lights and buzzers began to sound, but that was it. There were no controls and no way that I could see to win any tickets. It didn’t take Hal long to confirm this.

  “That’s the sixth quarter I’ve put in this thing and I still haven’t won any tickets,” he said glumly.

  I probably would have stopped after the second quarter, but I didn’t say that to Hal. I looked down at the manufacturing plaque on the base of the machine and wasn’t the least bit surprised to see that it was made by Indestructo Industries. As soon as our current mission was resolved, I was determined to let AI know what the Tycoon was doing to his good name.

  “Don’t worry about that now,” I consoled Hal. “I’ve got a new plan. We need to create a diversion that will distract all the dozens of facets of Fly Guy’s eyes. Stench, I want you to go over to the other side of the arcade and pretend to lose a quarter underneath the Hill o’ Beans. Then start complaining as loudly as you can. When Fly Guy comes over to help Stench, that will be your sign, Hal.”

  “Sure, O Boy. Just tell me what to do.”

  “Run over and offer to provide some light. When you get there, illuminate yourself as brightly as possible. That will momentarily blind Fly Guy in all his eyes. Meanwhile, I’ll let Tadpole know when it’s safe for him to do his thing.”

  “What a great plan,” Hal said as he brought his sippy cup to his lips and took a big gulp of apple juice. Then he and Stench moved off to take their positions.

  When they were out of earshot, Plasma Girl turned to me.

  “Is my job the usual one?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “You got it,” I replied. “Be ready to act as soon as Hal messes up his part of the plan.”

  “Roger.” She saluted me and then turned to follow the other two.

  Two minutes later, I heard Stench bellowing from across the arcade that he had lost his quarter. That was the only part of the plan that worked the way it was supposed to. Fly Guy immediately messed up everything by refusing to budge from his chair.

  “Too bad, kid,” I heard him say. “But thanks for the donation.”

  Unfortunately, Hal never thought to change his part of the plan and was soon running toward the Hill o’ Beans. Thank goodness for Plasma Girl. She had turned herself into a pool of jelly on the floor right in Hal’s path. Sure enough, he slipped on her and went sliding smack into the stack of bean cans that make up the Hill o’ Beans. As they came crashing down around both him and Stench, it finally got Fly Guy to move.

  “No powerzzz!” he buzzed angrily as he got up from his chair and ran toward the mess of bean cans.

  Of course, he didn’t notice Plasma Girl, either, so he, too, was soon sliding into the heap on the floor. Plasma Girl quickly returned to her normal shape.

  “Hal,” she shouted. “Lighten up.”

  Halogen Boy did as he was told, and soon the arcade was flooded with an intense light.

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly my plan,” I said to Tadpole, “but it’ll do. Go ahead.”

  Tadpole shot out his tongue and it snaked its way up to the top cutout in the tree, slipping behind the stubborn squirrel. It didn’t take Tadpole long to figure out the problem.

  “He’th got a peg thtuck behind the thquirrel,” he informed me. “There’th no way to knock the thing over.”

  “Can you remove it?” I asked him.

  “Let me thee,” he answered.

  I glanced around to make sure that no one was watching. All of a sudden, I could have sworn I saw
someone moving about behind the counter where the prizes were kept. At first I thought it must be Fly Guy. I squinted through the brightness at the chaos over by the Hill o’ Beans. But Fly Guy was still there, completely tangled in the mess. By the time I glanced back to the counter, whoever I had seen was gone. I didn’t worry about it right then, though, because Tadpole yelled proudly, “I got it. The peg ith looth.”

  Wasting no time, he used his tongue to push the squirrel back onto its trigger and I soon heard five hundred tickets being spit out of the slot in front of me.

  “We’ve got ’em,” I told Tadpole as he put the peg back into place and pulled his tongue back into his mouth.

  His timing was perfect. The second Hal’s light began to fade, Fly Guy got up off the floor and most of his eyes were on us immediately. All he was able to see, however, was me folding up the wad of prize tickets. I took them straight over to the counter, but as I got there one thing was already clear—the box of card packs had been stolen.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Change Is Good

  By the time we found ourselves being tossed out of the arcade, still clutching our five hundred prize tickets, it was nearly six o’clock, and we all had to be home for dinner. We agreed we would regroup tomorrow at school.

  As I trudged up the sidewalk to my front door that evening, I felt frustrated and confused. First of all, who stole the box of card packs from Aunty Penny’s Arcade? Three times today I thought I saw someone shadowing us. It had happened first at Indestructo Industries, again at Lava Park, and then again at the arcade. No one else had noticed anything, though, so I didn’t tell the team.

  Second, I was at a complete loss about the third type of rock, metamorphic. Then there was the problem of the Tycoon. The fact that he was out there blackening the good name of the Amazing Indestructo was an issue that would have to be dealt with.