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

by Boniface, William

  “I believe their skulls perform that function,” replied Professor Brain-Drain. “What about my own line of Bunsen burners? Children still love Bunsen burners, don’t they?”

  “I’ll check with my market research department.” The Tycoon sighed in exasperation. “In the meantime, all I need is your signature on these contracts to get started.”

  “Ah yes, the contracts.” The Professor’s eyes seemed to zero in like arrows on the oily businessman. “That reminds me. This seems like the perfect time to renegotiate our earlier licensing arrangement. The one that ends in just a few short weeks.”

  “What are you referring to?” asked the Tycoon, who I’m sure knew exactly what the Professor was referring to.

  “The licensing arrangement that I signed ten years ago that allows you to use my image in all your Amazing Indestructo TV shows, comic books, and other paraphernalia. The vast sums of money that the Amazing Indestructo has earned during this period have not gone unnoticed by me—especially as my own, once significant royalty checks have dwindled to practically nothing in recent months.”

  “It was a fair deal,” protested the Tycoon, beginning to sweat even more. “And we still pay you what your contract requires. If your royalties are shrinking, it’s only because your likeness is being used less. But that’s not my fault. In fact, I’m here right now to try and do more with you, not less.”

  Professor Brain-Drain didn’t say a word. His glasses stayed focused on the business executive.

  “B-B-but if you are unhappy about it,” the Tycoon stuttered nervously, “the person to complain to is AI himself. Nothing is done without his approval.”

  My eyes went wide with shock. What the Tycoon said couldn’t be true. The Amazing Indestructo would never have made a deal with his deadliest enemy.

  “You’re lying!!” I yelled. “The Amazing Indestructo would never agree to that!”

  It would have been better if they had said something. Instead they just looked at me and began chuckling. Now, more than ever, I knew we had to escape—if for no other reason than to warn AI about what was happening behind his back. An idea finally came together in my mind. But before I could put it into action, there was a loud roar, and suddenly something came crashing through one of the walls.

  Smoke and dust billowed everywhere throughout Brain-Drain’s laboratory, and both the Professor and the Tycoon rose from their seats in surprise. As the dust cleared, we all realized who had burst in.

  It was the Amazing Indestructo himself. Justice was about to be served.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Acting the Part

  “AI! Help us!” we all cried.

  Our hero had come to save us at last!

  AI turned and looked at us blankly, as if kids in trouble were the last thing he had expected to find here.

  “In a minute, youngsters,” he said. “I’ve got business to settle first.”

  And then he turned away from us. My heart sank.

  “There you are, you dastardly villain,” the Amazing Indestructo intoned. My heart rose again.

  The Professor was standing with the Tycoon looking over marketing plans for Brain-Drain Brain Puffs Cereal—grayish puffs of corn shaped like miniature brains and fortified with two vitamins and oodles of sugar. To my surprise, though, AI strode forward, grabbed the Tycoon by the lapels of his jacket, and hoisted him into the air. He didn’t pay any attention at all to Professor Brain-Drain.

  That’s okay, I convinced myself. He was just handling them one villain at a time.

  “I was told I would find you here,” AI said, clearly annoyed. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “What are you talking about?” protested the Tycoon. “I’m here on official company business. There’s an opportunity to make scads of money.”

  “Money isn’t everything,” announced the Amazing Indestructo. “You know there are areas that are off-limits.”

  I knew it! How could I have doubted my hero? He obviously hadn’t known the awful things that the Tycoon was doing, and now he was here to fix everything.

  “Forget why I came here,” sputtered the Tycoon. “It’s no big deal.”

  “What do you mean it’s no big deal?” hissed the Professor. “It’s a very big deal indeed.”

  “Look, I only set a few limits on what you can do,” said the Amazing Indestructo. “If you stay within those boundaries, you can do whatever you want—as long as it sells.”

  My emotions were being played like a yo-yo. I couldn’t believe the cynical dealings that were behind my favorite toys, TV shows, and snack products—not to mention my one-time hero. There! I finally admitted it to myself. That was it. The Amazing Indestructo wasn’t my hero anymore. He didn’t deserve to be.

  “The reason I’m here,” AI continued, “is that you ignored one of those rules. I’m here because of that card you put into the collector packs.”

  “The Professor Brain-Drain card?” said the Tycoon, confused. “I only made three of them, just like you told me to.”

  “So it was you.” Professor Brain-Drain glared at my former favorite superhero.

  “Not the Brain-Drain card, you idiot,” spat AI in an undignified manner. “I’m talking about the card for Meteor Boy.”

  The Tycoon visibly gulped. The corners of Professor Brain-Drain’s mouth turned up slightly in an evil-looking smirk.

  “I couldn’t think of anybody else,” the Tycoon tried to explain. “And we only made ten of them!”

  “You know the rule. No references to Meteor Boy, ever,” said AI.

  “Ah, yes.” The Professor cackled (and I do mean cackled—this was no chuckle). “Poor Meteor Boy. Any mention of him and his ill-fated first adventure brings it all back, doesn’t it, my old friend? You may be invulnerable to everything, but you can’t shake the guilt that you still feel for that poor lad’s demise. You have tried to make him disappear from the public’s collective memory, yet he still lingers in yours like a specter of shame.”

  The heroic expression on AI’s face suddenly began to quiver, and then it dropped as fast as my opinion of him.

  “You’re the one responsible for what happened to him, not me!” accused AI as he dropped the Tycoon on the floor in a heap and turned on Professor Brain-Drain.

  “Am I really?” the Professor responded, his blank glasses boring into AI’s rapidly blinking eyes. “Why was Meteor Boy even there that day?” I expected the Amazing Indes-tructo to let loose with his patented uppercut and knock the Professor unconscious. Instead, AI fell to his knees and started sobbing.

  “Ah, yes,” Professor Brain Drain continued as he walked up to the slumped figure and laid his hand gently on his shoulder. “You call me the villain. But I never did anything so foolish as expose a youthful sidekick to such danger.”

  “What about us?” I hollered from where we still sat, trapped in the brain-draining device. “I’d call this ‘exposing kids to danger.’”

  But none of them were paying any attention to me. AI had his head in his hands. Who knew he was such a baby?

  “You’re right!” he blubbered. “I’m a horrible superhero.”

  “That’s not true,” the Tycoon spoke up. “You bring goodness and joy to millions.”

  “That’s right,” AI said, suddenly brightening as he lifted his face from his hands. “I am the representation of all that’s good and right.” And then, as if he hadn’t just suffered an emotional breakdown, he stood up proudly and spoke out in his smooth-as-silk voice. “After all, I am the Amazing Indestructo.”

  What was with this guy? Now he seemed totally back to normal. Then Professor Brain-Drain spoke up again.

  “Yet you surround yourself with inferior heroes to make yourself look better,” tsk-tsked the Professor.

  “You claim to fight a crusade against evil, but you make licensing arrangements with your vilest enemies. And you manipulate those who adore you by selling them shoddy merchandise designed to empty their pockets and line your own. You
disgust me.”

  It was really getting hard to tell who was the hero and who was the villain here. Sure enough, AI’s mask of invincibility vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He dropped his face back into his hands and began sobbing.

  “It’s true,” he howled. “I don’t know why I feel the need to lower others in order to raise myself. I’m a dreadful person!”

  I didn’t know a whole lot about psychology, but I knew a major superiority-inferiority complex when I saw one. And clearly Professor Brain-Drain knew how to play AI as easily as a kazoo.

  I decided it was time to put my own escape plan into action. I turned my attention to the Deadly Dumbot directly in front of me. It was the Brain-Drain actor with the mole on his nose.

  “This next scene is the most important one in the movie,” I suddenly shouted at him as if I were a film director.

  The Dumbot looked at me vacantly for a moment without moving. Then I noticed a faint glimmer in its eyes. It turned its head toward the Professor as if looking for guidance, but Brain-Drain was too busy scolding AI to notice. So I decided to pour it on.

  “When I give the word, you’ll move forward and undo the straps that are holding me. And your motivation will be—Best Actor in a Brain-Drained performance!!”

  Even a mindless actor can’t resist the thought of an acting award. The fact that he was operating with an empty brain made it natural for him to follow the orders of whoever appeared to be the director. And right now, there was no direction coming from Professor Brain-Drain.

  “Lights! Camera! Action!” I ordered.

  To my surprise—it worked! The hulking dummy lumbered forward, bent over me, and undid my restraints. As I got up from my seat, I grabbed the Oomphlifier and shoved it into Hal’s hand. The Professor may have accused him of not having much brainpower, but he knew exactly what to do.

  Just then, I was grabbed by the Deadly Dumbot as if I were an award statuette.

  “I’d like to thank my dermatologist …” he started to mumble just as Halogen Boy turned on his power with every ounce of strength he had.

  “Close your eyes,” I shouted to Plasma Girl and Tadpole, squeezing mine shut.

  Even with them clenched shut, I could tell that Halogen Boy, with the aid of the Oomphlifier, was flooding the room with a light so brilliant that it would momentarily blind anyone whose eyes were open. I felt the strong arm of the Deadly Dumbot release me as he used it to shield his eyes. Feeling my way back to the Brain Capacitor, I found the restraining belt on one of my teammates and undid it.

  “Thanks, O Boy,” I heard Plasma Girl say. “I knew you could do it.”

  I immediately shifted to the left and removed Tadpole’s restraint, while Plasma Girl did the same for Hal on the right. I could tell through my clenched eyes that his light was fading. The Professor had been right about the Oomphlifier only having a small charge at the moment. But it had been enough to help us get free. I opened my eyes and saw that the Deadly Dumbots as well as the Tycoon, the Amazing Indestructo, and Professor Brain-Drain were still temporarily blinded. But I knew they wouldn’t be for long.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I suggested. We all turned to run for the exit.

  We’d only made it about a dozen feet, however, when I ran smack into the softest, mushiest belly that a person could have. As I bounced onto my butt, I looked up to see the Crimson Creampuff smiling down at me. The League of Ultimate Goodness had arrived.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  LUG’s in Action

  At this point I had no idea who was a hero and who wasn’t, so my plan was to keep running toward the exit. The Crimson Creampuff was so fat and so mushy, though, that I was having a hard time getting around him.

  “Whoa there, little buddy,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about. The League of Ultimate Goodness is here to defend you. And more help is on the way once Moleman figures out how to dig his way up to the seventy-fifth floor.”

  I noticed that Spaghetti Man had stepped in front of Hal to protect him, and Major Bummer was using his huge behind to shield Tadpole. Whistlin’ Dixie was also there, down on one knee talking to Plasma Girl.

  “Thar, thar, lil’ darlin’, what’s goin’ on here?” she asked in a down-home sort of way, tipping her rhinestone cowgirl hat. “’Tain’t nothin’ the league can’t handle.”

  “It’s the Deadly Dumbots,” Plasma Girl shouted. “They’re coming after us again!”

  Sure enough, the momentary blindness had passed, and not only were the six Deadly Dumbots attacking, but Professor Brain-Drain was fully in control of them again.

  “Well, we’ll all jes see ’bout that,” promised Whistlin’ Dixie as she stood to face the approaching Dumbots. “Wait ’til they get a listen ta my high C.”

  Taking a deep breath, the so-called Siren of South Superopolis whistled out a single note—a perfectly pitched high C. Unfortunately, it wasn’t high enough to effectively do anything, and the Dumbots kept coming. What I found most impressive was that Dixie kept the note going strong and steady even as she grabbed Plasma Girl and started backing toward the main entrance.

  “We’ll handle them,” said the Crimson Creampuff as he and Spaghetti Man stepped in front of Whistlin’ Dixie and Plasma Girl.

  Two of the Dumbots went right for the Crimson Creampuff and began punching him. Unfazed, he merely stood there and smiled. Their fists sank deep into his flabby layers of fat. Of course, he didn’t seem to be fighting back. Maybe his strategy was to just stand there getting beat up until the attackers were worn out.

  Meanwhile, Spaghetti Man was shooting out ropes of spaghetti from his fingertips. They coiled themselves around one of the approaching Dumbots, slowing it down. Unfortunately, it would have taken someone with less than zero intelligence to be trapped for long by wet noodles. Sure enough, the Dumbot simply raised its arms, and the flimsy pasta tore apart and slid to the floor.

  “Holy Bolognese!” shouted Spaghetti Man as he turned and fled past Tadpole and Major Bummer, leaving Hal to fend for himself.

  “Don’t you think you should be trying to stop at least one of those guys?” Tadpole asked the major accusingly.

  “I don’t know why we’re even bothering,” groaned Major Bummer. “We can never win without AI’s help anyway.”

  I overheard this comment from the seriously

  depressed superhero and it suddenly made me think: where was the Amazing Indestructo? He could stop these Deadly Dumbots in a heartbeat. I looked back, keeping myself hidden behind one of Professor BrainDrain’s pieces of equipment. Unfortunately, what I found was that AI was still down on his knees, his head lowered and sobbing.

  I would have to cheer the big guy up and get him out fighting. But just as I stepped out from behind the machine, I felt two invisible arms wrap around me.

  “The Sneak,” I grumbled. “Let me go, you creepy chameleon.”

  “Sssorry, sssonny,” he hissed, “the bossss hasss plansss for you.”

  As he hauled me back over to the Brain Capacitor, I saw that Professor Brain-Drain’s Deadly Dumbots had made short work of the League of Ultimate Goodness. Spaghetti Man was wrapped up in his own strands of pasta, apparently the only person in the world who couldn’t break through them. One of the Dumbots was holding Whistlin’ Dixie by her rhinestone bolero jacket with one hand and Plasma Girl with the other. Major Bummer, who had basically just given up and sat down on his big behind, was being guarded by another Dumbot, while yet another held Tadpole, who at least was trying to break free. Halogen Boy was similarly ensnared. None of my friends’ powers had returned enough to be of any use.

  The remaining two Deadly Dumbots seemed to be using the Crimson Creampuff as a soccer ball. It was pretty pathetic.

  “Well now, that wasn’t very difficult, was it?” Professor Brain-Drain cackled as he stepped in front of me. “Nevertheless, this has been far more trouble than I am used to dealing with. As you can see, I’ve known for quite some time how to handle Superopolis’s greate
st hero.” He gestured over toward the Amazing Indestructo. “I may be his greatest nemesis, but he’s never been mine.”

  He silently stared at me for a few moments through those thick, blank-looking glasses. “You, however, seem to be the primary cause of today’s turmoil.” It was almost like I could see the gears turning in his head as he planned his next move.

  “Sneak, strap him back to the Brain Capacitor,” he finally spoke.

  “Asss you wisssh,” Sneak replied.

  While the Sneak was buckling me back in, this time all by myself, Professor Brain-Drain bent over and retrieved the handheld Oomphlifier that Hal had drained and discarded only a few moments earlier. I watched him plug it into the charging device, which in turn was hooked into the Brain Capacitor itself.

  “Now, let’s see exactly what we have here,” the Professor mused as he lowered the shiny silver dome onto my head.

  This time the helmet was set in place and I heard Professor Brain-Drain switch on the measuring gauge. He gasped.

  “Great gamma globulins!” he exclaimed. “This is impossible.”

  “What’s impossible?” I shouted.

  I was worried that something was wrong. Wait—I should clarify that. I was worried something was wrong other than the fact that an evil genius had me strapped to a machine that would soon suck out all my intelligence.

  Brain-Drain paid no attention to me. Instead, he reached over to the charging device that the Oomphlifier was plugged into, and switched it on. He then reached for the Brain Capacitor’s main switch and turned it on as well. I instantly felt a tingle running through my head. Exactly one second later I heard a bell go ping on the charging device.

  “What’s happened?” I asked with alarm, wondering if my intelligence was all gone. I shuddered at the thought that it could have taken only a second. Then I realized that the very fact I could ask myself those questions meant my intelligence was still intact. The only explanation had to be that the machine had failed somehow. Or had it? Professor Brain-Drain did not look unhappy. In fact he looked positively ecstatic as he raised his left hand and extended a long bony finger toward my skull.