The Extraordinary Adventures of Ordinary Boy, Book 1: The Hero Revealed

by William Boniface

  His uncle was the Crimson Creampuff, and Cannonball was incredibly proud to have a relative in the League of Ultimate Goodness. Whenever I felt jealous, I reminded myself that the Crimson Creampuff was one of the least competent members of the League.

  “I’m missing twenty-three cards, including Whistlin’ Dixie, the Animator, and Moleman,” said Transparent Girl, from what looked like an empty seat on Hal’s left. “If anyone has them, I’d be happy to hold onto them for you.”

  Even with our hands still raised, everyone began chattering, comparing notes on how their various collections were coming. No one was paying attention to Miss Marble any longer, which is never a good thing. Sure enough, I felt the inevitable reach of her power begin as a tingle in my left leg. Not wanting my hand to get stuck in the air, I quickly lowered my arm only a moment before I found myself frozen in a state of suspended animation.

  Miss Marble got her name from her ability to freeze a person in place just as if he were a marble statue. The suspension never lasted more than a couple of minutes, but it made for a handy way to get the attention of . . . well, in this case, a class full of disruptive students.

  “Now that I’ve frozen your mouths shut, let’s have a little discussion about something called scarcity.” Miss Marble glanced around the room at her students, who were petrified in poses ranging from acrobatic to downright uncomfortable. “Do any of you know what that word means?”

  I knew what the word meant, but there was no way to put my hand back up or to even speak, for that matter.

  “What’s the matter, kids? Cat got your tongues? Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

  Miss Marble often said the exact same thing after freezing us, and always laughed hysterically at her own bad joke. Of course, we all just sat there, stiff as boards. The feeling began to pass after a few minutes, and soon I was able to move my eyelids. As movement returned to the rest of the class, kids lowered their tired arms and remained quietly in their seats. No one ever wanted to risk a second freezing right away.

  “So, scarcity. How about you, Hal?” Miss Marble continued, nodding at Halogen Boy.

  Hal looked about helplessly. He can glow as brilliantly as an X-ray machine, but the sad fact is that he really isn’t all that bright.

  “Uh, I don’t know,” he said, before deciding to wing it, which for Halogen Boy is never a good idea. “Is it a city that’s really scary?”

  Miss Marble’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. “No, it is not. Puddle Boy, do you know?”

  Puddle Boy just nervously shook his head without saying a word. The puddle beneath his desk grew by another inch.

  “How about you, Melonhead?”

  “Thkarthity?” he said. Seeds splattered from his mouth in a dozen different directions. “Doethn’t it mean generothity? Ath in “Thkarthity beginth at home?”

  “Okay, Ordinary Boy,” Miss Marble said, resignedly. “What does scarcity mean?”

  It annoys me that she always assumes I know the answer. Well, okay, so most of the time I do. She still didn’t need to pick on me.

  “Scarcity is a term that refers to how difficult

  something is to find,” I said. “The fewer there are of an item that lots of people want, the more scarce that item is.”

  “Correct as usual,” she said.

  “Miss Marble?”

  “Yes, Transparent Girl?” Miss Marble asked with a sigh of resignation.

  “Scarcity is a term that refers to how difficult an item is to find,” she pointed out perkily.

  Miss Marble ignored her and pressed ahead. “Now tell me again, Ordinary Boy, what card haven’t you been able to find?”

  “I suspect that it’s a card with Professor BrainDrain on it,” I answered.

  “Has anyone found this card?” she asked the class as a whole.

  Not a single hand was raised.

  “It appears,” she said directly to me, “that this card is very scarce, assuming that it exists at all. If it doesn’t exist, you will all end up on a wild-goose chase and will no doubt spend much of your parents’ money in the process.”

  “But what if it does exist?” I asked hopefully.

  “Then,” she answered, “if you find one, you will have found something that is very valuable indeed.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Straight to the Top

  It was three o’clock and school had just let out. All five of us Junior Leaguers had agreed to meet at the end of the day to plan a strategy. We were waiting for Stench, who as usual needed to use the bathroom right after class.

  While we waited, a large crate came floating up the sidewalk toward the school. It was only as it got closer that I saw it was being pushed along by an old friend of my dad’s, and a former member of the New Crusaders, the Levitator.

  “Hey, Lev,” I waved. “How’s it going?”

  “Ordinary Boy!” he said in surprise as he poked his head around the crate. “Good to see you. How are your mom and dad doing?”

  “They’re great,” I said, and then corrected myself.

  “Well, my mom is doing fine. Dad’s having a hard time getting back into crime fighting.”

  “Aren’t we all.” The Levitator laughed cheerfully. Even when he was down, he was still up—if you know what I mean. “It seems that all I can do for AI is deliver his products.”

  “What is this?” I asked, pointing at the enormous crate.

  “It’s a new vending machine for your lunchroom—courtesy of Indestructo Industries. Not that they won’t make a nice profit in the process,” he added. “It should be all set up for you kids by tomorrow. Take care!”

  As the Levitator made his way toward the school, Stench charged up to us with a determined look on his face.

  “We’ve got to find one of those cards,” Stench blurted out as he reached us. “For three very good rea-sons: A) because it’s valuable; B) because it completes our collection; and C) because it will really tick Miss Marble off.”

  “Yeah, did you see how she was practically daring us?” Tadpole fumed. “But we’re not even completely certain what we’re looking for.”

  “You heard O Boy,” Plasma Girl said. “He’s sure the card is of Professor Brain-Drain. Aren’t you, O Boy?”

  “I am,” I said, and it occurred to me there was a way to confirm it. “And I have an idea. But it means we’ll have to split up.”

  “Whatever you say, O Boy,” Halogen Boy volunteered.

  “Well, first, we should keep checking the card packs in the stores around the city,” I said. “Tadpole, you and Hal go check out the Cavalcade of Candy. They should have lots for you to sort through. In the meantime, Stench, Plasma Girl, and I are going to go right to the source.”

  “You don’t mean—” Plasma Girl started to say.

  “Exactly,” I confirmed. “The three of us are going to pay a call on Indestructo Industries. If anyone has an answer, it will be them.”

  We split into two groups and Tadpole and Halogen Boy headed in the direction of downtown. As Stench and Plasma Girl looked over my shoulder, I pulled out the Li’l Hero’s Handbook and looked up Indestructo Industries in the “Places” directory.

  With the address in hand, we headed off to the outskirts of town. It didn’t surprise us that Indestructo Industries was one of Superopolis’s most successful companies. We certainly bought enough of their products! But when we reached the address listed in the handbook, we couldn’t believe the sleek, shiny office tower that awaited us. As we walked up the main sidewalk leading to the building, we passed under the legs of the enormous statue of AI. On its shoulders was balanced a huge globe bearing the name of the company. It was impressive, but not more than I would expect for the greatest hero in Superopolis.

  INDESTRUCTO INDUSTRIES

  Located at 777 Indestructo Boulevard in the heart of the Indestructo Industrial Park, Indestructo Industries oversees all entertainment, merchandising, marketing, manufacturing and licensing operations for Superopolis’s most financially successf
ul hero, the Amazing Indestructo, as well as the League of Ultimate Goodness.

  In the lobby we saw a directory, and we quickly found what we were looking for: Office of the President, twentieth floor. It made sense that the president would be at the top.

  INDESTRUCTO INDUSTRIES

  20th floor • Office of the President

  19th floor • The Sentinels of Trademark Infringement

  18th floor • The Defenders of Lawsuits

  17th floor • The Federation of Fine Print

  16th floor • The Syndicate of Shell Corporations

  15th floor • The Human Resources Self-Preservation Squad

  14th floor • The Enforcers of Corporate Euphemisms

  13th floor • The League of Licensing, Royalties, & Copyrights

  12th floor • The Proprietary Protectors of Patents

  11th floor • The Association for the Exploitation of Adjectives

  10th floor • The Union for Foodlike Substances

  9th floor • Cafeteria/The League of Ultimate Goodness World Headquarters

  8th floor • The Product Development Force

  7th floor • The Secret Society of Safety Testers

  6th floor • The Toxic Substance Recategorization Team

  5th floor • The Choking Hazard Clearance Guild

  4th floor • The Guardians of Profit

  3rd floor • The Legion of Pencil Pushers

  2nd floor • The Minions of the Mailroom

  1st floor • Aren’t You Here Already?

  “I’m not so sure we should be doing this.” Plasma Girl stopped suddenly. “We could get into a lot of trouble and maybe even get yelled at.”

  As usual, Plasma Girl was thinking sensibly—the last thing a superhero on a mission wants to do. After all, if heroes thought sensibly, they’d stay home where it’s safe. I was about to start my usual pep talk when we heard a raspy voice behind us.

  “You kids must be here for the test-marketing study we’re conducting today.”

  We turned around, and to our complete surprise, there was the Bee Lady! She’s older now (and a lot heavier) and can only get around in a motorized scooter, but when she was younger, she was the first female member of the League of Ultimate Goodness. Just as in her heyday, she still has a real beehive woven into her hairdo. The bees that live in the hive, and which she has the power to control, were buzzing all around her head. Her black-and-yellow-striped spandex costume looked like it was being stretched to the breaking point.

  Plasma Girl has always idolized the Bee Lady. She immediately began to gush.

  “Bee Lady,” she said in short, excited breaths, “what an honor to meet you! You have done so much to pave the way for female heroes everywhere!”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” the Bee Lady replied without sounding like she meant it. “I’m headed out to the parking lot for a cigarette, but you kids go on up to the eighth floor and I’ll be right back to start the test marketing.”

  As the Bee Lady chugged away on her scooter, I ushered my teammates into the elevator and hit the button for the twentieth floor. The car zoomed to the top.

  “Can you believe I actually met the Bee Lady?” Plasma Girl said excitedly.

  “She didn’t seem very heroic,” Stench said. I agreed but kept quiet to avoid the glare that Plasma Girl was now giving Stench.

  “Well, she’s older now,” Plasma Girl snapped. “We’ll see what you look like in sixty years.”

  Before my mind could form an image of an elderly Stench, the elevator doors opened onto a very expensive-looking reception area. There was a woman sitting at a desk, looking like she was doing something to her nails. As we came closer, I realized she was touching the nails on one hand with the index finger of her other. As she did, her nails changed from one color to another. That appeared to be the extent of her power.

  “That is so cool!” Plasma Girl blurted out, clearly more impressed by the receptionist’s power than I was.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” the nail lady said, clearly irritated that we had interrupted her important task.

  “We’d like to see the president, please,” I asked aspolitely as possible. I also flashed my best “adorable child” expression. Adults usually love that. But not her.

  “It ain’t gonna happen, kid,” she said, cracking a wad of bubble gum. “There’s only one way to meet the president, and that’s to have an appointment.”

  “Could we make an appointment?” I asked hopefully. I didn’t bother with the sweet expression this time.

  “Let me see . . .” She pretended to ponder my request for about five seconds. “NO!”

  I couldn’t believe that the Amazing Indestructo, the paragon of all that’s good and right in the world, would have such an unpleasant person working for him.

  “Okay, Stench,” I said. “Maybe you can convince her.”

  The receptionist looked at us suspiciously. Plasma Girl and I knew to hold our breaths, but Fingernail Woman, or whatever her name was, did not. As Stench’s powerful stink reached her nostrils, we watched her turn pale and clutch her desk with her colorful fingertips. A second later she was on her feet and running through the door that led to the executive offices. I grabbed the door before it closed and motioned with my head for Plasma Girl and Stench to follow me. The door clicked shut behind us, and it was safe to breathe again.

  “Okay,” I said, “the annoying woman went to the left, so I say we head to the right.”

  We ran down the carpeted hallway, trying all the doors on each side in hope of finding the one that would lead us to the president of Indestructo Industries. Every door was locked. When we reached the end of the corridor, there was only one door left to try. I reached for the knob, and, to my surprise, it turned. But that was nothing compared to the surprise I got when I opened the door. Because standing there, right inside the doorway, was that epitome of all that is evil, Professor Brain-Drain himself.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Business Is Business

  We all stood there frozen with terror as Professor BrainDrain stared down at us. It was impossible to make out his expression behind the incredibly thick glasses he wore, but there was no mistaking who we were dealing with. He was dressed completely in black except for his white lab coat, and the colander on his head shone eerily beneath the fluorescent lighting. And then

  something truly odd happened. The door swung open a little farther and I noticed that there was another Professor Brain-Drain standing behind him. I poked my head inside and to my utter astonishment saw dozens of Professor Brain-Drains. There were short Brain-Drains and tall Brain-Drains. There were fat ones and skinny ones. There were Brain-Drains with hair, and Brain-Drains with warts. There was even one Professor Brain-Drain that was a woman. Finally, a Brain-Drain with bushy red hair and a potato chip bowl on his head spoke up.

  “Don’t you kids think you’re a little young to stand a chance?”

  “Stand a chance of what?” I asked. “What’s going on here?”

  “The tryouts, of course,” said a Brain-Drain dressed in black leather and sporting a handlebar mustache.

  “There was an open casting call for the role of

  Professor Brain-Drain for AI’s television show,” explained another Brain-Drain as he practiced his tap-dancing routine.

  “We’re all here to audition,” added the woman who was dressed as Professor Brain-Drain.

  “But Professor Brain-Drain is a man,” Stench pointed out.

  “That’s just the kind of conventional thinking that will keep you a slave to society your entire life,” she sniffed with disdain.

  While Stench was trying to figure that one out, I decided it was time to get back to our original goal and began to back out of the room. I motioned to Plasma Girl and Stench to follow.

  “Well, good luck to all of you,” I said as we stepped back into the hallway. Then I grabbed the knob and pulled the door shut.

  “That was really weird,” Stench stated.

/>   Neither Plasma Girl nor I disagreed. We figured the president’s office had to be in the opposite direction, so that’s where we headed. As we passed by the reception area, we saw that the Fingernail Woman had returned. She had found a can of deodorizer and was so busy spraying it about her work area that she didn’t notice us.

  A few seconds later we were standing at the door to an office that proudly announced: PRESIDENT OF INDESTRUCTO INDUSTRIES.

  “Do you suppose he’s inside?” asked Stench. “And who is the president anyway? Do you think it might be AI himself?”

  Plasma Girl and I just shrugged.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” I said, secretly thrilled at the prospect of possibly meeting the Amazing Indestructo face-to-face. I reached boldly for the doorknob—but the door was locked.

  “Actually, there’s another way,” Plasma Girl corrected me.

  Stench and I watched as Plasma Girl’s purplish-pinkish-bluish costume began to bubble and foam. A second later she had metamorphosed into a gelatinous glob, collapsing into a puddle on the floor. The puddle began to move, sliding effortlessly underneath the locked door in front of us. Soon after that, we heard the lock click from within, and the door opened.

  “Is anyone in here?” Stench asked as we entered the enormous office.

  “Not that I can see,” replied Plasma Girl as her skin stopped bubbling and she returned to her usual self.

  The office seemed empty, but I was getting a creepy feeling that we weren’t alone. I turned around quickly to see if anyone was standing behind us, but all I saw was the empty corridor we had just passed through. Then I took a good look at the office.