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

by Boniface, William

  “And then you gave him that idiotic idea about the traffic cones?” Tadpole asked.

  “Yes, I suggested it to him almost a decade ago. I figured it would keep him busy in a harmless sort of way until I had a use for him.”

  “And then the card situation came up,” Plasma Girl concluded.

  “Exactly.” Brain-Drain beamed. “You kids really are quite smart.”

  With that, the Professor calmly clapped his hands twice. I jumped up immediately, but I felt a hand push me back down in my chair, I tried to scream a warning to my teammates, but another hand had covered my mouth.

  Thanks to the Sneak, I couldn’t move or speak, but I could see everything as the motionless figures that we had thought were statues suddenly came to life and went after Hal, Tadpole, and Plasma Girl. I expected them to use their powers, but they were each easily subdued by the silent, hulking figures. From the strained looks on their faces, I could tell that both Plasma Girl and Halogen Boy were trying, but nothing was happening. Tadpole was sticking out his tongue, but it wasn’t extending more than a few inches. The Professor Brain-Drain statue he had poked in the stomach a moment earlier had gone straight for him, clearly looking for a little payback. That’s when I noticed that Tadpole’s attacker had a mole on his nose, exactly like the last actor I had seen play the Professor on TV.

  “I hope you enjoyed your lemonade. It’s a recipe of my own invention and has the wonderful side effect of briefly nullifying your powers. It’s a shame that you’ll be losing your intelligence so soon as well,” Professor Brain-Drain continued in the friendliest tone, “but I promise you, I’ll make much better use of it than you ever could have.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  A Collectible Catastrophe

  “Let me take this opportunity to introduce you to my latest invention,” Professor Brain-Drain commented pleasantly, as he indicated the animated figures that had just taken us captive. “I call them my Deadly Dumbots. It’s not an entirely accurate name since they’re neither robots nor completely dumb. But I liked the name—and they can be deadly.”

  “You mean they’re not statues?” Halogen Boy asked.

  “No. I’m afraid that was a little fib,” confessed Professor Brain-Drain. “My sculpture period ended over a decade ago. These days I’m more into mobiles.”

  I watched Tadpole, Hal, and Plasma Girl struggle against the mindless-looking Dumbots. Without their powers, my teammates were helpless. I was being restrained by the Sneak. His hands and arms kept changing to look like either my shirt or my skin, depending on which part of me he was holding. It was pretty creepy.

  “You see,” the Professor continued, “these individuals all made the same mistake. They assumed that they were qualified to play me on that infernal television show. Unfortunately for them, they were wrong.”

  Walking from one brain-dead Brain-Drain to another, the Professor rattled off a list of their flaws.

  “This one’s voice was too high-pitched,” he said, “while this one’s ears were much too big.”

  In my opinion they looked the same size as the Professor’s.

  “This one is too short. And this one actually has hair,” the Professor said with outrage as he lifted up the Deadly Dumbot’s colander to reveal a full, bushy head. “And as for this one, I didn’t like the way he pronounced the word nuclear.”

  Imagine what his reaction would be to a female Brain-Drain!

  “But as you know,” he continued, “my power is the ability to drain the intelligence of others for my own use. These just happen to be some of those whose intelligence I’ve drained. As I expend brain energy on my projects, it runs low, so I need to constantly replenish it.”

  “You’ve got a whole skyscraper full of victims right here!” I pointed out. “Why take it out on us?”

  “Oh, come now,” he replied in surprise. “The villains in this building are my tenants. It’s not good business to drain the intelligence from people who lease space from you. How will they come up with the money to pay their rent if I drain their brains? Not to mention most villains know that renting space from me comes with the added benefit of keeping their intelligence, so I always have plenty of renters.”

  I had to admit he made a lot of sense. But that didn’t make me feel better as we were strapped into the chairs that surrounded the huge barber pole device in the center of the room. Once we were fully restrained, the Sneak and the Professor’s army of Deadly Dumbots stepped back from us.

  “Even as I speak,” Professor Brain-Drain said, “the Multiplier is above us in my blimp hangar, making duplicates of my card—albeit at an excruciatingly slow pace. I need to charge a new version of the device I invented that can amplify anyone’s power. I call it an Oomphlifier. Like me, it’s a device that runs on brain power.”

  “And just where did the brainpower come from to operate the device?” I asked pointedly. “The Multiplier isn’t smart enough to generate it himself.”

  “Excellent question,” Brain-Drain replied. “The original handheld device was fully charged by me before it was given to the Multiplier. If he had used his Oomphlified powers carefully, he would have gotten a month’s use out of the device. Instead, he squandered it all at once in a pointless attention-getting stunt that not only destroyed the device but also landed him in jail.”

  “He said you gave it to him specifically to make duplicates of the card.”

  “He is correct. I found out last Friday that there would be only three cards bearing my image and I was outraged. I called the Multiplier away from his traffic cone project and had him come here to try out the Oomphlifier. My mistake was in letting him take it along when I sent him to the Mighty Mart to buy up all the card packs he could find.”

  “That’s a pretty expensive, and poorly thought-out, way to find a card,” I said, intentionally trying to annoy him.

  “Yes, it would have been.” He frowned for the first time since we met him. “However, after the Multiplier’s blunder, I came up with the same idea as you, my little friend.”

  “I try to choose my friends more carefully,” I shot back.

  “So I see.” He gave my helpless teammates a sinister smile. “But, as I was saying, we did both think alike in this case. I sent the Sneak over to Indestructo Industries to see if he could pinpoint more precisely where the three cards were. The rest of the story you know.”

  THE OOMPHLIFIER

  A secret device invented by Professor Brain-Drain, the Oomphlifier magnifies its possessor’s power by nearly a million times. In order to do this, it must be fully charged with pure brainpower, making it impractical for most citizens of Superopolis.

  “Except your reason for making the duplicates in the first place,” I said.

  “Oh, haven’t I told you?” He laughed softly to himself. “I can explain that at the same time I tell you about this machine you’re all strapped to.”

  He stepped over to where Tadpole was trapped and lowered the dome onto his head. As he pressed a button on it, the needle of the gauge set into the metal helmet rose to its midway point.

  “You see, I have created a new Oomphlifier,” he explained as he removed a small, handheld device from the pocket of his lab coat.

  “It already has a small charge of brainpower in it, but I need to give it a super charging. That’s where this amazing machine comes in.” He tapped the gauge on Tadpole’s dome. “One of the many things it can do is measure the intelligence of anyone strapped to it. In this case it indicates that your friend here is of average intelligence—not bad but nothing special.”

  Tadpole shot the Professor an insulted glare, but he had already moved on to Plasma Girl.

  “I call it the Brain Capacitor. In a way, it’s a mechanical version of my own power. This device will sap an individual’s intelligence and then store it for other purposes—purposes such as charging the Oomphlifier, for example. And once it’s fully charged, I will give it to the Multiplier so that he can produce cards for me at an exponential
rate.”

  “I overheard the Sneak saying that you were going to create millions of them,” I accused.

  “Did he say millions?” Brain-Drain asked. He lowered the dome over Plasma Girl’s head. “I’m planning on making billions!”

  “But why?”

  “Why?” he said calmly as he pressed the button to turn on the indicator gauge. “Because Superopolis should know that I’m not someone to be overlooked. For nearly a decade, I have remained quietly in the background, allowing the city’s image of me to be formed solely by that cretinous Amazing Indestructo. For a while, it was fine. I had my inventions and my artistic pursuits.”

  “That doesn’t sound very villainous,” I responded.

  “Oh, don’t be so certain.” His mouth turned up in a sinister smile. “A good evil plan can be very inventive and artistic.”

  This guy was seriously creepy, I decided.

  “But frankly,” he continued, “I dropped out of the spotlight because I was bored. Plotting against the half-witted denizens of Superopolis is hardly a challenge. Then these cards were issued. AI had the audacity to release millions of them into the market, but relegated me to a mere three. Even a recluse doesn’t like to be ignored, so I decided to make sure that I’m not taken for granted. Besides, now is a perfect time for the good citizens of Superopolis to become reacquainted with me, since other long-term plans will soon be coming to fruition.”

  I was incredibly curious as to what he meant by “long-term plans,” but then he paused to inspect the arrow on Plasma Girl’s helmet. I heard him make an approving noise.

  “This one is quite a bit above average. That’s very good!”

  “What about the cards?” I insisted.

  “Oh, yes, the cards,” he replied as he moved on to Halogen Boy. Hal watched nervously as the dome was lowered over his head. “I’ll produce as many as I need—maybe even trillions of them! And then I will drop them all over Superopolis. The first ones will simply clog the streets. Then they’ll fill up the sewers. Next they’ll spill out into the ocean. And then I’ll drop even more. They’ll start piling up like snowflakes in a blizzard. There will be mountains of them and—

  “Well, this is a disappointment,” Professor BrainDrain grumbled as he examined the needle on Halogen Boy’s indicator gauge. “This one isn’t going to be any use at all. Well, no matter, where was I … ?”

  “Mountains of them,” Halogen Boy prompted him, apparently unaware that he had just been insulted.

  “Oh, yes. There will be mountains of cards until the very life of Superopolis is choked off by them. And the last thing everyone sees as they suffocate will be my face looking back at them.”

  “You’re insane,” I cried.

  “Now that’s a bit unfair,” Professor Brain-Drain complained. “After all, I couldn’t do it without your help.”

  “What do you mean?” I demanded. I was pretty sure I knew exactly what he meant but I hoped I was wrong.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he said as he lowered the dome onto my head. “The energy for charging the Oomphlifier, and thus duplicating the cards, is going to be drained directly from the brains of you four kids.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  A New Deal

  I looked up with horror as the brain-draining metal dome was lowered onto my head. Once the Professor had my noggin in his diabolical helmet there would be nothing stopping him from turning on his machine, draining the intelligence from all four of us, and transferring it to the Oomphlifier, which the Multiplier would then use to make trillions of collector cards under which he would drown all Superopolis—all the while leaving me and my teammates as brainless Dumbots.

  Luckily, just then, the doorbell rang.

  “Great nattering neurons,” the Professor muttered as he halted with the helmet only an inch from my head. “Who is it now? Well, I do have an extra seat available.”

  He headed toward the door, leaving the Oomphlifier sitting on a table across from us.

  “Maybe it’s Stench with help,” said Halogen Boy.

  “Why would heroes coming to our rescue ring the doorbell?” Tadpole asked. He had a point.

  “All I know is that we have to get out of here,” Plasma Girl whispered with a shudder. “We don’t want to end up like them.”

  We looked around at the half dozen Deadly Dumbots who were once again looking more like statues than brain-drained actors. They were arranged about us in a semicircle, and it was clear that even if we could get out of our restraints, they would capture us again in an instant.

  “Do any of you feel your powers returning?” I asked hopefully.

  “Let me give it a shot,” Plasma Girl said. But the best she could do was transform herself into a mildly jiggling gelatin.

  “And I can only thtreth my tongue about thikth inthes,” Tadpole confirmed as he stuck his tongue out about six inches.

  “How about you, Hal?” I stretched to turn my head slightly to my right where he was strapped next to me.

  In reply he began to glow fairly brightly. “I’m sorry, O Boy. This is the best I can do without being able to get to my apple juice.”

  It was more intense than the lighting in the laboratory but not bright enough to really do us any good. So how was I going to get us out of this mess? Of course I felt responsible. After all, I was the one who convinced my friends to come here. So it was up to me to come up with a plan to save them. Unfortunately, I was only beginning to get a germ of an idea when Professor Brain-Drain returned with his guest. I couldn’t believe who it was.

  “What’s he doing here?” I hollered with undisguised hostility.

  “That’s right,” said the Professor, “you already know the Tycoon, don’t you?”

  Sure enough, the president of Indestructo Industries was standing right here in the secret hideout of the Amazing Indestructo’s most deadly foe.

  “Hey, kids! Good to see you again.” He waved, oblivious, or indifferent, to the fact that we were strapped down like prisoners. “Did my clue help you track down one of the three cards?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “It’s one of the reasons we’re trapped here now.”

  “That’s too bad,” he lied. “But I’ve got to thank you for getting the word out and letting your friends see the actual card. I hear from stores all over Superopolis that the card packs have been flying off the shelves since yesterday afternoon. And that’s not all—”

  PROFESSOR BRAIN-DRAIN

  SHOWER CAPS

  This shoddy item marked a low point in the history of Indestructo Industries. The first flammable version caught on like wildfire, but not in a good way. Following the recall, a second flameproof version was produced with even poorer results. The fact that most people do not have steel colanders on their heads that need protection while showering could perhaps explain this lack of demand. There was also the problem of putting something on your head which has the Brain-Drain name on it. In fact, those few consumers who actually bought one definitely felt dumber having done so.

  “You creep,” I interrupted him. “I’ll never buy anything made by Indestructo Industries ever again.”

  I knew it sounded feeble the second I said it, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  “You won’t have the chance, son,” the Professor replied. “Your brain will soon be drained. Although, in fact, that would make you an ideal consumer,” he added. “Anyway, what were you about to say, Tycoon?”

  “I was going to mention,” he continued, “that the few Professor Brain-Drain products we’ve created over the years have also completely sold out. There wasn’t much to begin with, I admit, but it’s all gone. We even finally got rid of those Professor Brain-Drain shower caps that we put out over four years ago.”

  “I use mine daily,” the Professor responded indignantly. “And I’ve always argued that you don’t produce nearly enough products bearing my image.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” said the Tycoon.

  “Go on,” said the
Professor, clearly interested. He guided the Tycoon over to the table at which he had so recently hosted us. “I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. If I like it, you just might be able to go on thinking.”

  That made the Tycoon do a double take! I know it was kind of a mean thought, but the Tycoon drained of his intelligence might not be such a bad thing. It probably wouldn’t change his power, though, and he’d still be able to make money even as a Dumbot.

  “Kids have gone crazy for Professor Brain-Drain,” he revealed. “They can’t get enough of you! So I’m here to propose the creation of a whole new line of Professor Brain-Drain merchandise.”

  Clearly, the Tycoon was unaware that Professor Brain-Drain’s popularity with kids was plummeting as fast as the price of his collector card. Since it had only just happened in the last few hours, there was no way the Tycoon could know—yet! Well, I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

  “Just let me show you the plans we’ve made,” he continued, removing some large, folded sheets of paper from his briefcase. “Here, for example, is the Professor Brain-Drain Lair of Evil play set.”

  “It looks like an underground cavern,” commented the Professor.

  “No kid wants a play set that looks like a floor in an office high-rise,” the Tycoon informed him.

  “I see,” said the Professor. “And what is this?”

  “These are sketches of the Brain-Drain Power Bike. It can go up to seventy-five miles an hour.”

  “But I travel by blimp,” he informed the Tycoon.

  “Blimps aren’t big with kids. Work with me.”

  “What is this ropelike item?” asked the Professor. “Is it a noose?”

  “Even better! You’ll love this!” gushed the Tycoon. “It’s the Brain-Drain Bungee Cord. Kids hook them on their ears and then wrap them around their heads to hold their brains in—like this!”