“Squeak, squeak,” said Hugo with a twitch of his rat whiskers. This either meant “What’s a nice superhero like you doing in a place like this?” or “Can you sing ‘Boogie Fever’ in the key of G?”
Melvin wasn’t sure. He was just glad to see his rat again. Now to make their escape.
The problem was, Hugo was one short rat. And the button that needed to be pushed was halfway up the wall.
“Can you find a way to reach that button?” Melvin asked.
“Squeak,” replied Hugo. This meant “I’m on it, big guy.” Or maybe it was “Are there any cute rats in the vicinity?” Hugo was always on the lookout for attractive rodents.
No alien rats were around, just four superheroes trapped inside a glass cage. Hugo looked around. Outside the cage there were a couple of cabinets, a picture on the wall, some boxes—
Boxes! Of course! Hugo pushed one of them beneath the button and climbed on top. This got him a little closer, but not close enough. He jumped down and grabbed another box, lifting it over his head. He was pretty strong for a rat. He and Melvin often had push-up contests
while watching The Adventures of Thunderman—during commercials, of
course—and now it
was paying off.
Hugo tossed the box on top of the other and climbed up. He reached for the button and—
ZAP!
Hugo found himself staring at the ceiling, unable to move anything but his whiskers.
“Squeak?” he said. This either meant “Why can’t I move?” or “I hate when this happens.” He sure did.
Shoe walked over and picked up Hugo by the tail. “What do you call it?” he asked his four caped prisoners.
“His name is Hugo,” Melvin said. “He’s a rat.” He was going to say, “He’s MY rat,” but decided the less the aliens knew the better.
Shoe sniffed Hugo. He was tired of Zig Newtons and lunarfish sandwiches. He wondered what a Hugo-on-rye would taste like. He gave the rat another sniff, then looked at Melvin.
“POISON,” Melvin said. “I wouldn’t even touch him if I were you. You might want to wash your hands.”
Shoe decided not to risk it. He switched the force field off for only a second, long enough to toss Hugo in with Melvin and the others.
“Nice try, Hugo,” Melvin said, petting his rat. “You’ll be back to normal in a few minutes.”
“Squeak.” This probably meant “I’m so glad I’m not a sandwich.” But it could have meant “Is it just me, or do those alien pretzels smell terrific?”
They did, but Melvin and his com-panions had other things to think about. How to escape, for one? Also, how to find the way back to Earth? For now, all they could do was wait.
And so that is exactly what they did—they sat together in the glass cage and waited.
“Anyone know any good knock-knock jokes?” Candace asked. She would have suggested a game of Go Fish if she’d had cards.
Everyone was fresh out knock-knock jokes, it seemed.
* * *
The landing on planet Dork wasn’t the smoothest in the world. But what do you expect from a bunch of teenage aliens flying an economy spaceship? In a few minutes, Monkey Wrench, Elbow, and Shoe entered the room with the glass cage and turned off the force field.
The three of them had their stun guns out and looked like they weren’t afraid to use them. “Try anything and you get zapped,” Monkey Wrench said.
Melvin just stood there, staring at their disgusting alien underwear. Now what? he thought. Things were getting worse and worse. And he knew exactly who to blame.
The narrator!