by Obert Skye
Ms. Fitz and a handful of students got up and left the classroom. The movie wasn’t going to show for two days, but the madness was already beginning.
I knew that the Fanatics had reached an agreement with the government, but what if the movie turned out bad? What if it was worse than the third one? I’m just not sure me and my friends could survive the aftermath of another bad movie.
LAME couldn’t meet in the Geek Cave after school because the NPs escorted everyone off campus and ordered us all to get home immediately.
The four of us walked together and worried aloud about what was happening.
“Is this a good thing?” Xen asked. “I mean, maybe the movie will bring peace. Of course, I’ve calculated the odds, and they aren’t good.”
Owen had something to say:
We all stopped walking to stare at him.
“What?” Owen said defensively. “My parents made me watch the third movie. If it helps, I didn’t enjoy most of it.”
Mindy shook her head. “That’s just sad.”
Mindy hates the Sand Thrower series more than anyone else I know. She hates that it appealed to so many people who she thinks are shallow and awful. The kind of people who have helped tear our world apart. Also, it bothers her that everyone assumes that she loves the books and movies simply because she’s a girl who likes to read.
“A fourth movie is only going to make things worse,” she told us. “The Fanatics will find something to hate about it, and that will be the end of civilization.”
“So, do we still care about Darth Susan?” I questioned.
“I never really cared about her in the first place,” Owen admitted.
“Right,” I replied. “But do we care about what she might be up to? She must have known about the movie announcement before anyone else did. How? She might be powerful at WADD, but the government’s not going to give her that kind of information. Why did she form a fake LAME?”
“All of that matters,” Owen said. “So we should go to the theater compound immediately. Then we can stake out a place in line and vigilantly guard the city and figure out things from there.”
“Like what?” Xen asked.
Mindy frowned. “I don’t know, anything. Breathing. Sleeping. Anything.”
Owen sighed. “Fine. It’s just that the theater compound seems like a good place to keep an eye on things. Darth Susan said she’d be there with LAMER, and she also said that we’re allowed to wait in line. That’s pretty generous. Do you think the fourth movie is already beginning to soften her up? If the announcement can make her nicer, then maybe the movie will change the world for good.”
“Has the government ever done anything good for anyone?” I asked.
“They handed out cups and bandages at that last Piggsburg city fear-a-thon,” Owen reminded us.
“Yeah,” I said with disgust. “But the cups were empty when the runners needed water. They were just a shameless promotional item for the government.”
“And the bandages they gave out were used,” Xen said.
“Besides,” I reminded them, “this isn’t just about the government or the movie. This is about LAMER. We have to put an end to impostors trying to steal our identity!”
“I don’t know,” Owen said. “It’s kind of flattering to have my identity stolen. It’s probably the first time anyone’s wanted to imitate me. Well, unless you count all the times people have done mean impressions.”
“Nerf, Mud, Weasel, and Millie are bullies,” I reminded them. “And if we let this go, they might turn into superbullies.”
“I hate to say it, but maybe Owen’s right,” Mindy admitted. “The movie line might be the best spot for gathering information tonight.”
“Okay,” I said. “Can all of you sneak out of your houses later tonight without your parents noticing?”
“Good,” I said. “Then let’s meet at Owen’s house. Also, we should wear our night outfits.”
Everyone was on board with that suggestion, largely because we liked wearing our night outfits. They were basically the same as our day ones, but all black. Xen insisted his had flames on the side, but since they were also black, you couldn’t see them.
A drone above us began to bark orders for everyone on the streets to move along. We split up and made our way to our disheveled, unstable homes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Spotted and Spoiled
My parents, like the rest of the world, were jazzed about the fourth movie. My dad’s work had shut down for the day because of the announcement. Most of the planet was hopeful that this dumb movie would help fix all our problems.
If the movie was bad, the Fanatics would freak, but I have to admit it was nice to see my parents pumped about something. Normally they just spent time complaining about the weird weather we always had and their jobs.
My dad worked for the government, driving a supply truck. It’s a pretty dangerous job, but only because he’s a horrible driver. He runs into about ten things a day. My mom hates receiving his texts.
I guess it’s lucky that the truck my dad drives is big and banged up. Because of that he rarely gets hurt, and his boss never notices when there are new dents or missing bumpers.
My mom’s job is less collision-filled. She spends her day foraging for food at the grocery store and collecting rocks to recycle at the gravel factory. She also volunteers at the local powdered-soup kitchen. They’re good parents, but I wish I had a brother or sister so that it wasn’t always just me and them.
After eating dinner, I put on a first-rate act of pretending to be tired and going to bed. When the house was quiet, I slipped out the back door, through the broken fence in the yard, and around the house to Oak Street.
I never enjoy being out on the streets at night. Lately the government has been using drones to take pictures of people breaking curfew. They like to use those photos to harass people.
The Fanatics don’t mind the pictures—they just post them online. It’s one of the reasons why the government can’t control them. While everyone stays hunkered down in their homes at night, the Fanatics roam freely, complaining about the third movie and ambushing people with unwanted makeovers.
To avoid all of that, we try to stay in the shadows, or blend in with a pack of wild dogs, or dress in dark clothing like nerdy ninjas.
Now I was dressed in black and moving easily through the streets on my way to Owen’s. Only a few stray dogs payed any attention to me. I really did feel better knowing that thanks to their agreement with the government, there were no Fanatics outside. I got all the way to Owen’s house without being subjected to an abusive selfie. Which was kind of a crime, seeing how cool I looked in my night outfit.
Out of all the AV Club members’ houses, Owen’s was in the worst shape. It was in a part of town where Fanatics and Half-Deads loved to trample and mess up everything. Owen’s dad, Mr. Glip, doesn’t pick up their yard, plus he collects trash and keeps it all over their house. He loves his garbage and hates when we come over, because he thinks we’re going to take something.
So we don’t hang out at Owen’s house very much. But since his parents were off at SadCon, it was a perfect place to make plans.
As darkness settled over Piggsburg, Owen filled us in on what he could hear happening.
“The theaters in the theater compound already have huge lines,” he reported. “The government has set up a bunch of tents, and the crowds are getting bigger by the minute.”
“This movie better be good,” Xen said nervously.
Films really aren’t the same as they used to be. Since the third Sand Thrower flick and the ensuing Theater Wars, the government had gone to war against privately owned theaters. The theaters tried to fight back, but the government was too powerful.
The privately owned theaters were forced to close, and the government constructed massive theater compounds in most towns. The compounds were like small cities with a lot of ugly square buildings surrounded by big cinder-block walls. Now the
government films and shows the movies it wants while controlling who sees what, and when they see them.
Owen was shaking. “There’s probably a few hundred people already waiting in line.”
“Is it me,” I asked, “or are people losing their minds?”
“It’s a little of both,” Mindy replied.
As usual, she was right.
CHAPTER NINE
Hard to Imitate
“Wait!” Owen lifted his ear to the wind. “I can hear Darth Susan. She’s there talking to some students in line.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I’m not sure what’s happening,” Owen admitted, “but she’s telling a Goth that she’s proud of him for waiting.”
“We need to get over there and do some snooping,” I said.
We traveled as shadowy ninjas through the streets, with Owen keeping his ears open. The Piggsburg theater compound was a few miles away from Owen’s house. Not to tear down LAME, but we all were more winded than a real superhero group probably should be after going on a walk.
The compound was on the south end of town, near the corporate gravel and gruel factory.
The theaters were ugly. Plus, the government designed the seats to be hard and scratchy, making it difficult for people to stay seated for long. My dad claims they did that so moviegoers have to get up and walk around the lobby. That way the government can sell them more high-priced and highly horrible theater snacks.
When we got to the compound, I was impressed by the size of the crowd. I was also impressed by how calm everyone was acting. There were hordes of people beneath tents that the government had set up to provide temporary protection from the elements.
All the sections and parts of the line were numbered and divided up. There were also rows and rows of government-sponsored toilets and NPs everywhere.
But it didn’t look like the NPs were even needed. Everyone seemed to be behaving themselves just fine. They were all standing in a line beneath the tents and talking quietly. Ms. Fitz had told us earlier that the peace treaty said,
Well, people were chitting and chatting at respectable volumes, and nobody was shouting or misbehaving. It was eerie to witness Fanatics acting civil while quietly posting pictures and taking snapshots.
Owen tapped me on the shoulder. “I can hear Darth Susan. She’s over there.”
Pretending to be shadows, we crept along the side of the wall.
“I can’t believe that no one is fighting or screaming,” Mindy said, dumbfounded.
“Supercreepy,” I replied.
“I’m okay with it,” Xen told us.
Just past the sixth theater, I saw Darth Susan talking to some Pens who were standing in line. Pens are a group of students at WADD who are always writing things. They’re kind of annoying because they also like to talk about how great they are at writing and tell you everything about the current story they’re working on.
The Pens are one of the less threatening cliques at our school. Most people think that the AV Club should get along with them. But me and my friends like things to be a bit more technical than pens and paper.
Mindy, Owen, Xen, and I snuck behind a dumpster to properly spy on Darth Susan. The dumpster was filled with a group of Fanatics who were softly singing about the Sand Thrower series. The song was awful, but our view of Darth Susan was worse. From where we stood she looked happy and smiley and … kind?
“What’s going on?” I asked in a whispered panic.
Xen burped. “I don’t know, but seeing her smile like that makes me nervous.”
Darth Susan looked at her watch as she talked to the Pens and then smiled even bigger. She glanced up at the sky as if expecting to see something.
“Look!” Mindy whispered.
I peered over the dumpster. People in line were murmuring and talking louder. I also saw something much more irritating.
Standing on the road next to the thirty-fifth portion of the line were Nerf, Mud, Weasel, and Millie. They were in their costumes and walking like they thought they were all that and a tub of dip. The crowd thought they were the real LAME that they had heard about. A few people began to clap and smile.
My blood boiled.
It was horrible that LAMER was pretending to be us. And what made it worse was that everyone seemed to …
Nerf raised his hands and declared to the crowd, “LAME has arrived.”
People applauded respectfully as a few NPs stood by, monitoring the situation for volume and unruliness.
I was angry. It made me feel even worse that we were stuck hiding behind a dumpster while Nerf was in front of everyone, getting praise that belonged to us. He spoke up, using his weird fake voice.
“Feel free to worship us,” he told the crowd. “You have probably heard that we’ve been helping this town these last two months. But don’t think of us as superheroes. Think of us as your superheroes. Piggsburg is a place that’s better, thanks to us.”
My ears began to steam.
Not everyone in town knows about us and LAME. But Nerf was acting like the entire world knew and worshipped them … I mean, us!
I growled softly. “He’s going to ruin our small reputations.”
“We have a reputation?” Owen asked sadly. “I’ve always wanted a rep.”
“You’ve always had one,” Mindy whispered. “It just wasn’t good.”
“I don’t understand.” For a person with such a high IQ, Xen was confused. “How can they pretend to be us? They don’t have any powers.”
Nerf held up his hands again.
“And we would never use such bad grammar,” Mindy said angrily.
I couldn’t take what Nerf was doing any longer. So, I shouted loudly over the top of the dumpster.
“IF YOU REALLY ARE LAME, THEN SHOW US YOUR POWERS!”
A few people looked around, trying to see who had just yelled that.
“Yeah,” one of the Pens in line said. “We want to see your powers.”
“Um, well, the thing, the thing is…” Nerf stuttered.
Nerf looked nervous and less confident. I liked where this was going.
“Please fly for us!” a Fanatic screamed.
Weasel held out his hands and motioned for the crowd to settle down.
Three NPs moved in closer.
The presence of LAMER was getting everyone riled up, and according to the peace treaty, riling things up was off limits.
Owen bristled. “I can hear that he used the wrong to.”
I was impressed. Apparently, Owen’s superhearing worked on grammar.
“At least make some fire with your fists!” someone yelled at Nerf.
“Or shoot lasers out of your eyes!”
“Yeah,” an NP said while stepping closer to LAMER. “Shoot lasers out of your eyes.”
The people didn’t seem mad or angry. They just wanted to witness a display of superpowers.
“Again,” Nerf insisted, “it’s wrong to be a show-off.”
“Show off! Show off! Show off!” the NPs and the crowd chanted loudly.
Millie growled at the gathering, but that only made them more excited.
“Show off! Show off!” everyone screamed.
Nerf was sweating. “I’m sorry,” he yelled. “There isn’t time for us to show off. We must go and help those who are less cool than we are.”
Then, in a move that looked like they had practiced earlier, Nerf, Mud, Weasel, and Millie all simultaneously turned around and took off running.
The crowd clapped for the fleeing heroes as the NPs tried to calm things down.
“No fair,” Xen said as we huddled back behind the dumpster. “I’ve always wanted people to clap for me.”
“I don’t get it.” I was genuinely upset. “Why is Darth Susan having Nerf and his friends pretend to be us, and what is the connection to— Wait.” We had been so caught up with LAMER that nobody noticed the disappearance of Darth Susan. “Where’d she go?”
“I didn’t see,” Xen said, begin
ning to get belchy.
“Can you hear her?” Mindy asked Owen.
Owen shook his head. “Wherever she went, she isn’t talking.”
“Then let’s spread out and find her. She put LAMER together, she knew about this movie, and she’s up to something that might ruin our lives. We’ll split up, stick to the shadows, and text when one of us finds her.”
I went east, Mindy went west, Owen went south, and, due to nervousness, Xen went to find a bathroom.
CHAPTER TEN
Stalking the ’Tary
It didn’t take more than a few moments for me to realize how difficult finding Darth Susan was going to be. The crowd was too big, the night was too dark, and a pollution fog was rolling in and making things look fuzzy. Everyone began to put on their government-issued breathing masks that we were all required to carry.
I took off my LAME mask and put on my breather. The pollution-filled night made me question my life choices. Here I was at a gathering for a movie I didn’t care about, surrounded by people I didn’t want to be hanging around with, and looking for the secretary from my school who I didn’t like.
I was planning to keep complaining in my head, but my eyes spotted something disgusting—lizard poop. Down on the ground there was a tiny trail of the white stuff I knew so well. I don’t know what Darth Susan fed Becky, but for some reason the poop glowed under the moonlight. I was actually happy to see it, because where there was poop, there was Darth Susan.