Nick and Tesla's Special Effects Spectacular

by Bob Pflugfelder

  2. Build the arms. Choose four towels (or blankets), each as long as the sleeves of the hoodie. Roll each towel lengthwise and then bend it in half. Wind duct tape around each towel to keep it rolled. Pack the towels into the shirtsleeves, two per sleeve, with one towel forming the upper arm and one forming the forearm. (For stiffer arms, fill the entire sleeve with one long, folded towel or blanket.) Add smaller towels, blankets, etc., to give the arms a natural shape. You want the stuffing to be packed tightly so that it will stay in place when the dummy gets knocked around. Leave some room in the elbow area so that the arms will bend.

  3. To build the legs, repeat step 2, filling the pants with two folded towels per leg. Add more stuffing as needed.

  4. Fill the torso. Group pillows and other stuffing material to form the chest and stomach. It’s best to use a few large pillows instead of many smaller ones so that the dummy’s torso will move like a single, solid mass. Wrap duct tape around the pillows to hold them together, and slip them into the hoodie. Fill in any empty space as needed to create a natural shape and keep everything packed tight.

  5. Create the head. Stuff the hood with one or more balled-up towels or blankets. (If you have a sports ball that’s the right size, you can use that to help create a rounded shape). Pull the hood down to cover the stuffing, and wrap tape around the hood.

  THE FINAL STEPS

  1. Stuff the socks with dishtowels, other socks, and whatever other materials are on hand to form the feet of the dummy. Attach to the pants with duct tape.

  2. Stuff the gloves with plastic grocery bags, torn-up paper, or anything else that can fit into the fingers easily. Attach to the sleeves of the hoodie with duct tape.

  3. Join the torso to the waist, tucking the waist of the hoodie into the pants, and tape in place. (If your dummy will be flying around, use large safety pins to keep the torso and waist securely attached.) Your stunt dummy is ready for action!

  Here are some additional tips:

  • Dress the dummy in the same clothes worn by the actor. To avoid having to share clothes between the dummy and the actor, go to a thrift store and buy two sets of similar clothing (for example jeans and a plain sweatshirt).

  • Use a hat, wig, sunglasses, and/or additional hood to conceal the dummy’s head and face.

  • When filming your stunt dummy, remember that less is more. Even though people will know you didn’t really drop a person off a roof, the scene will be more fun for your audience if it isn’t too obvious that you’re using a stunt dummy. Film from a distance, keep the dummy in motion, or hide it partially in shadows or by scenery. When you edit the scenes of your movie, it’s better to switch back and forth quickly between the dummy (far away) and an actor (close up) than to have a single, prolonged shot of the dummy.

  BONUS PROJECT

  If you want your stunt dummy to be stiffer and easier to pose, try making a “skeleton” out of ¾-inch PVC pipe (you can use pieces left over from building your camera rig). You may need an adult to cut the pipe. Wrap the pipe in towels, slip each segment into place, and then connect the pieces. Depending on which types of PVC connectors you use, you can position the dummy with bent arms or legs, sitting down, etc.

  Nick and Tesla ran to Uncle Newt’s house to get their bicycles. Silas and DeMarco would meet them there, bringing the dummy, props, and other materials they’d need to complete phase two of their plan. Then, together, they would bike back downtown to the movie set.

  “See ya in a minute,” Nick said when he and Tesla reached the driveway. “I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.”

  He swerved toward the front door.

  Tesla gave him thirty seconds before following him into the house.

  She found him where she knew she would: sitting on the floor in their room, hunched over the laptop. He was pounding on the keyboard and double-clicking icons, but nothing happened. The computer was still frozen.

  “So, you had to go to the bathroom, huh?” Tesla said.

  “Yes, and I still do,” said Nick. “I just thought I’d check on the computer first.”

  “All right. You’ve checked.” Tesla bent down and shut the laptop. “Now, come on. There’ll be plenty of time to read crackpot theories later. We’ve got a real problem to solve first.”

  “We already had a real problem. You don’t have to keep finding us even more. I mean, geez, Tez. Sometimes I think you’d rather get in trouble with Silas and DeMarco than try to find Mom and Dad with me.”

  Tesla winced.

  Nick did, too.

  “That was harsh,” Tesla said.

  “I know,” said Nick. “I’m sorry.”

  They stood for a moment in silence, not looking at each other.

  “Maybe you’re right, though,” Tesla said finally. “A little bit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s not that I don’t want to find Mom and Dad. I do. It’s just … I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid they’re mixed up in something that’s too big for us. Too grown-up. Maybe I’m afraid of failing.”

  “You haven’t been afraid to go after kidnappers and thieves and spies and saboteurs.”

  “But that felt different. Almost like it was …”

  Tesla struggled to find the right word.

  When she finally thought of it, she surprised Nick with a smile.

  “Practice,” she said.

  Nick smiled back at her.

  “Practice. I like that. And when we’ve had enough practice … ?”

  “Then nothing is going to keep us from finding Mom and Dad. Absolutely nothing.”

  Tesla reached out and put a hand on her brother’s shoulder.

  “I promise,” she said.

  A couple minutes later, when Nick and Tesla came down the driveway with their bikes, they found DeMarco and Silas waiting for them. DeMarco had a backpack slung on his back. Silas had a superhero slung on his back. It was Bald Eagle, of course. Or at least his stunt-dummy double, decked out in a feathered costume.

  “Are you going to make it to the set like that?” Nick said. “That thing’s kinda heavy.”

  “Aw, this is nothin’,” Silas said. “I once rode my bike three miles down the Pacific Coast Highway and back again carrying an old fax machine, two pounds of flour, and DeMarco.”

  Nick gave DeMarco a quizzical look.

  DeMarco shrugged. “It was a dare,” he said. “You had to be there.”

  “Enough gab,” said Silas. “Let’s get going before—”

  “Hey, kids,” a voice called. “What ya up to?”

  All four of them turned toward the house.

  Uncle Newt was stepping out onto the front porch. As usual, he was wearing a smudge-covered lab coat over a tattered T-shirt and jeans. His wild graying hair was blackened with soot on one side, and his glasses were tilted across his long face at a thirty-degree angle. In his right hand was a mug. In his left hand was a half-eaten Hot Pocket.

  Also, he was on fire.

  Or at least his lab coat was. The fabric on the lower-right side was smoldering and smoking.

  “Mr. Holt!” Silas cried. “Stop, drop, and roll!”

  “Not to be a stickler, Shiloh,” Uncle Newt said, “but it’s Dr. Holt, actually. Physics PhD from Stanford, engineering systems PhD from M.I.T. Oh, and there’s my ethnomusicology PhD from Cal Berkeley, but I usually don’t bring that one up. I mean, what was I thinking? Three years in the jungles of Borneo to master tribal drumming, and then I turn in my dissertation and never touch a bongo again.”

  While Uncle Newt was speaking, Tesla walked over to him, took the mug from his hand, and poured the cola in it onto the smoking coat.

  There was a sizzle, and the smoldering stopped.

  Tesla handed the mug back to her uncle.

  “Oh. Right. On fire,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Tesla.

  She headed back toward her bike, which was lying on its side in the driveway.

  Uncle Newt turne
d to Silas.

  “So, Sidney,” he said, “did you know that you have a giant man-owl on your back?”

  “Yup,” said Silas.

  Uncle Newt brought his mug to his lips and started to take a sip. When no liquid reached his lips, he remembered that his niece had just used his beverage to extinguish a fire.

  “All right,” he said to Silas. “Well, enjoy.”

  And with that Uncle Newt started to head back into the house.

  “Shouldn’t we tell him what’s going on?” Nick whispered.

  Tesla thought it over.

  “Sure, why not.” she finally said. “Hey, Uncle Newt! We’re going downtown to try to catch some sneaky jerk who’s been ruining DeMarco’s aunt’s movie by leaking embarrassing videos and putting itching powder in the star’s costume!”

  “Be back in time for breakfast,” Uncle Newt replied without looking back. “Er—I mean, dinner.”

  And then he stepped back inside and closed the front door.

  “Is there anything your uncle won’t let you do?” Silas asked in awe.

  “Sure,” said Tesla. “Watch reality television.”

  “He also won’t let me wash out the dirty beakers in his lab because he’s been doing a lot of experiments with sodium lately, and water could trigger an exothermic reaction,” said Nick.

  Silas furrowed his brow.

  “Trigger a what?”

  “A ka-blam,” Tesla offered as an explanation.

  “Oh.”

  “Hey, guys?” DeMarco said. “I hate to interrupt this fascinating conversation, but don’t we have a sneaky jerk to catch?”

  “Right,” said Tesla. “Let’s roll!”

  And the four friends—and one dummy—took off on their bikes and zipped up the street.

  Across the street from the movie theater, the small group of protestors had shrunk even smaller. The only people left were the brothers, Stellan and Casey, plus their friend, the girl dressed as a pirate cat (a.k.a. Captain Bloodwhiskers). She was chanting: “Five-six-seven-eight, who do we hate-hate-hate? Daaaaaaaaaaaaaamon Wilder!”

  “Meh,” said Stellan. “Seems a little mean.”

  Casey shrugged.

  “Fine,” said Captain Bloodwhiskers. “We’ll go back to ‘We want a superhero, not a superzero.’ ”

  “I’m tired of that one,” said Stellan.

  “I’m tired of all of them,” grumbled Casey.

  Stellan gave his older brother a “me, too” look. Metalman was their favorite comic book character, but it was getting harder and harder to believe they could make his next movie any better by standing around chanting slogans for the benefit of a solitary, bored-looking security guard.

  “One-two-three-four!” the guard called to them from across the street. “Get a life!”

  “Hey,” Captain Bloodwhiskers said. “Look over there, Stellan. Your girlfriend’s back.”

  “My what?” Stellan said as he turned in the direction she indicated. The girl was pointing at an alleyway across the street, just up the block from where the bored security guard was sitting and working on a Sudoku puzzle book. Stellan could see Tesla standing in front of the alley; behind her were Nick, Silas, and DeMarco.

  She was gesturing for him to come over.

  “That’s Silas Kuskie and DeMarco Davison and those other two kids they were with this morning,” Casey said. “I wonder what they want.”

  As they watched, Tesla placed a straightened index finger to her lips. Shhhh.

  She then brought up her other index finger and curled it three times. Come here.

  Stellan got the message. He looked at his brother, who gave a disinterested shrug, and then walked across the street.

  “Hi,” Tesla said once Stellan reached the alleyway.

  “Hi,” he said. Then Stellan noticed a feathered something-or-other piled on the ground farther up the alley. “Is that a dead turkey?”

  “No,” said Nick. “It’s a stunt dummy in a superhero costume.”

  Stellan’s eyes widened. “Whoa! Did you steal that from the set?”

  “No, it’s not from the set,” Tesla said. “We’ve been kicked off the set, actually.”

  “Why?” Stellan said.

  Silas opened his mouth to answer. Tesla slapped a hand over it.

  “It’s a long story that we don’t have time to go into right now,” she said. “The important thing is that we have to get back on the set. And we’d like you and your friends to help us.”

  “How?” said Stellan. “I mean, why should we?”

  Tesla smiled at him.

  “Because you guys hate this movie,” she said, “and if the people making it don’t want us back on the set, then we must be doing something that’s going to get in the way of the movie, which is something you want, right?”

  Stellan frowned. “I don’t know if that makes sense.”

  “Me, neither,” Silas said, causing DeMarco to thump him on the back of the head.

  “Think of it like this,” Nick said. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

  “Yeah, well …” Stellan said, “suppose you do get back on the set. What exactly are you going to do?”

  “Like I said, long story, no time,” Tesla said. “You saw us walk onto the set with DeMarco’s aunt earlier, so you know that part’s real. Now, you have to decide: are you in or not?”

  “Well …”

  “Time,” Tesla said, tapping an imaginary watch on her wrist. “We have none. In or out?”

  “Okay, okay,” Stellan said quickly. “What do we have to do?”

  Tesla beamed a warm smile. But then her smile turned sly and wily.

  “Trust me. You’re gonna like this,” she said. “You see that parking garage over there? Well …”

  Dalasia Hewitt, the Sudoku-solving security guard, was bored. Only a single protestor was left across the street—the pirate-cat girl—and even she had stopped chanting and now just stood there talking on her cell phone. Dalasia had solved all the puzzles in her Sudoku book, and her shift would not be over for a few more hours. So when some sort of commotion seemed to be happening on top of the parking garage that sat catty-corner to the movie theater, she was quick to get out of her chair to check it out.

  The garage should have been deserted; the production company had secured filming permits that let them close the street to all traffic. Yet Dalasia noticed some movement on one of the top floors. A dark silhouette appeared beside a shadow-draped concrete column.

  “Look! He came!” the pirate-cat said, pointing at the garage. “It’s Bald Eagle!”

  “Who?” Dalasia said. She crossed the street to get a better look.

  “Bald Eagle!” the girl said. “The greatest nerd in northern California! “He always comes when comic book fans need him most.”

  Dalasia spotted a dark figure on the roof deck of the garage. Whoever it was stood just behind the waist-high ledge that ran around the edge of the roof; then the figure swept one arm out stiffly over the street below. An arm, she now saw, that seemed covered with … feathers?

  At the same time, a deep voice boomed from the top of the parking garage.

  “My brethren, I know of your distress and have heeded the call to action! Let the word go forth: Damon Wilder is unfit to don Metalman’s mighty armor, and from this day forward Bald Eagle shall fight beak and talon against the casting of this impostor!”

  The pirate-cat cheered.

  “Nuts,” said Dalasia. “Definitely nuts.” She crossed her arms and waited to see what would happen next.

  “All around the world am I known for my dedication to justice, my unquenchable thirst for righteousness, and my unbending opposition to unnecessary franchise reboots and bad casting,” the figure bellowed. He leaned closer to the ledge and pointed in the direction of the theater. “You shall soon rue the day you brought the undefeatable, the infallible—” Dalasia noticed that the oddball was leaning pretty far over the edge now, and how stiff his movements were. Probably beca
use of the costume, she decided.

  “…incredible, indestructible Bald Eagle down upon youAAAAHHHHHH!”

  And then Bald Eagle tipped over the ledge and plummeted head-first toward the sidewalk.

  The pirate-cat screamed.

  Dalasia reached for her walkie-talkie.

  Bald Eagle … flew.

  For a moment, Dalasia wasn’t sure what she was seeing. Instead of hitting the ground with a sickening thud, the costumed weirdo was now hovering in midair in front of the parking garage, just one story below the roof deck. About two seconds later, she realized why: the guy had a rope harness tied around his upper body; the other end was secured somewhere on the roof. The caped fool was now dangling like a fish on a hook, swinging slowly back and forth.

  “A little help?” called the booming voice, sounding less than confident now.

  Dalasia sighed and reached for her walkie-talkie yet again. She wasn’t bored anymore. Just annoyed.

  “I can’t believe that worked!” DeMarco said with a giggle as he, Silas, Nick, and Tesla slinked along the trailers and trucks bordering the set.

  Nick looked back nervously over his shoulder.

  “We don’t know for sure that it did yet.”

  “There he goes again,” Silas said with a shake of the head. “Mr. Worst Cake Scenario.”

  “Worst-case scenario,” Nick said. He glared at his sister, whom he resented for mentioning the nickname their mother used to call him.

  If Tesla noticed her brother’s dirty look, she didn’t let on.

  “We’re in. So it worked,” she said. “And hopefully Stellan and what’s-his-name will get away from the garage before the cops show up. The problem is, it won’t buy us much time.”

  “Exactly,” said Nick. He pointed at the backpack DeMarco was wearing. “We need to find a place to pull that stuff out. Fast. Because if we’re spotted before we can—”

  “Mr. Worst-Case Scenario,” Silas cut in with a chuckle.

  Nick found the name incredibly annoying, but at least Silas got it right this time.