Part 18 (2/2)
”AI Pulls Plug on Brain-Drain,” I announced. ”Professor Probably Perishes,” it said in smaller type below. The picture is what really caught my eye, though. It was a shot of the Amazing Indestructo arriving back at the Vertigo Building carrying my dad, and with me riding on his shoulders.
”Hey, that's the picture Whistlin' Dixie snapped as we returned,” I pointed out.
”Wait until you read the caption.” Plasma Girl smirked.
”'AI saves unnamed father and son from fiery death,'” I repeated. ”Yeah, that he nearly caused! Boy, you can't believe anything you read in the papers.”
”Check out what's below the fold,” Tadpole said.
I flipped the paper around to find another photo. This one was of the members of the League of Ultimate Goodness who also partic.i.p.ated in the fight. Except it wasn't just them. I could clearly see Windbag and the Levitator standing with them. I read the picture caption aloud.
”'The League of Ultimate Goodness partic.i.p.ates in AI's incredible victory, along with members of an unknown group.' Can you believe this?”
”Hey, my dad thought it was great,” Stench spoke up. ”He said most groups would kill for that kind of PR their first time out. Besides, have you heard what they're calling themselves? I actually think 'unknown group' has a better ring to it.”
”Well, if you ask me,” I said, ”the group that proved themselves the most was a team called the Junior Leaguers.”
”You know it,” Tadpole agreed excitedly. ”We took on Professor Brain-Drain, the evilest bad guy of them all, and we brought him down!”
”Well, not completely on our own,” Plasma Girl interjected. ”There were about a dozen other heroes that helped.”
”None of whom would have been there if we hadn't led the way,” Tadpole argued back, as usual.
”Stop quarreling,” Stench said. ”We never would have gone there at all if O Boy hadn't convinced us to act like heroes.”
Stench was right. But the truth was, I felt guilty about leading my team into such a dangerous situation. I was just relieved that it had all turned out okay.
”We did behave like heroes,” Plasma Girl agreed. ”Three cheers for the Junior Leaguers!”
Just then the school bus pulled up in front of us. As soon as the door opened, Halogen Boy came running out, pursued by a group of our fellow cla.s.smates.
”I'll th.e.l.l you my Profethor Brain-Drain card for one thiny dime,” I heard Melonhead sputtering, seeds splattering against the back of Hal's head as he tried to get away.
”Me, too,” hollered Transparent Girl. ”And mine is nicer than Melonhead's.”
”Buy mine,” insisted Lobster Boy. ”Dad told me that if I wanted a new bike, I'd have to buy it myself-and I need the money!”
”I'll sell you all three of mine for a dime,” volunteered Puddle Boy.
”But I've already got one,” Hal protested, flas.h.i.+ng them the card he had bought from the Banshee the day before. He ducked behind us in an attempt to hide from the frantic mob.
”Don't they know that all the other Professor Brain-Drain cards have been destroyed?” Stench muttered as Halogen Boy took shelter behind him.
That made me realize something.
”Don't hide from all these eager sellers,” I told Hal. ”We want to buy up every card we can.”
”Why?” asked Tadpole.
”Just trust me,” I said. ”Hal, it's time to start buying.”
Melonhead caught up with him right at that moment, waving his Professor Brain-Drain card wildly in the air.
”Jutht a thingle tholitary dime,” he insisted.
Halogen Boy hesitantly slipped his hand into his pocket, held it there for a second, and then slowly retrieved a single dime.
”You're getting yourthelf a thteal,” said Melonhead as he grabbed the dime from Hal's hand and shoved the card at him. It was sticky with watermelon juice.
Everyone else elbowed their way closer as, one by one, Hal exchanged dimes for Professor Brain-Drain cards. At lunchtime word had spread among the other cla.s.ses, and by the time school was over we had managed to purchase every one of the remaining duplicate Brain-Drain cards.
As we walked to team headquarters after school, I shuffled through the cards. There were about seventy-five of them altogether. Some had mold on them, some were clawed up, some were in collector bags, and one of them even looked like it had been deep fried. But the important thing was that they all belonged to us.
When we got to Stench's place his dad was working in the backyard. He'd obviously just finished using his power to blow all the leaves into one big pile. Now he was burning them a few armfuls at a time in a big metal barrel. I walked up to it and asked Windbag if he would mind me getting rid of some garbage.
”Go right ahead, O Boy,” he replied, ”I'm just getting the yard cleaned up in case anyone from the press wants to come by and interview me.”
Clearing the leaves really didn't do a whole lot to make a junkyard look nicer, but I didn't say anything. Instead, I strolled over to the flaming barrel.
”What are you doing?” Tadpole yelled as I took the stack of phony cards and dropped them into the fire.
”He must know what he's doing,” Plasma Girl said, holding him back, ”unless Professor Brain-Drain sapped some of his smarts.”
I ignored the comment as I turned and began climbing up the ladder to our headquarters.
”Is that what happened?” Tadpole pressed as they followed me. ”You seemed fine up until Brain-Drain kidnapped you.”
”It's true,” I said, smiling to myself. ”But you weren't there when he started draining away my intelligence on his blimp. If AI and my dad had arrived any later, who knows how much I would have left?”
”Wow,” said Stench, ”that must have been pretty scary. Do you feel like you're dumber?”
”Sure he is,” said Tadpole as he plopped down on the couch. ”Why else would he have just burned all those cards we spent the entire day buying?”
”It doesn't make very much sense,” Halogen Boy agreed.
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