CHAPTER 1

Balthazar Bratt peered through his binoculars at the tanker ship in the distance. Armed guards paced the length of the deck, scanning the horizon. They didn’t notice his boat floating in the background. Bratt turned to Clive, his robot sidekick, and thought back to the path that’d brought him there.

Bratt had come so far since 1985, back when he was the child star of the number-one show on television, Evil Bratt. He’d played a child prodigy and criminal mastermind bent on world domination. He became known for two things: blowing bubbles with his pink bubble gum and uttering his famous catchphrase. “I’ve been a bad boy!” he’d sneer after every hideous misdeed.

Bratt became the biggest child actor of the 1980s, striking a chord with audiences all over the world. Soon his face was on lunch boxes and posters. There were Evil Bratt action figures and video games. For years it seemed as if no mug or pair of pajamas could escape his wicked grin.

But Bratt’s career came to an end in season three, when he experienced an unexpected growth spurt. Now taller, and perhaps a little awkward-looking, Bratt battled his enemies, but was no longer a cute little kid. Every time he tried to utter his famous catchphrase, his voice cracked. Soon the show was canceled.

Bratt shuddered as he thought back to those dark days. Instead of falling into the Hollywood abyss, he’d become obsessed with the character he played on television. Soon he was just as infamous and evil as Evil Bratt himself.

“You know what, Clive?” he said between chews of his gum. “Playing a villain on TV was fun—but being one in real life is even better. Heist music!”

Clive slipped a tape into the boat’s tape deck. A sweet, soulful melody filled the air.

“What? Clive!” Balthazar yelled. “What are you doing? How is that heist music?”

“Sorry, my bad.” Clive ejected the tape and flipped it to the “Heist Music” side before popping it back in. Suddenly Michael Jackson’s “Bad” was blasting from the speakers. Bratt pulled on his scuba gear and dove off the side of the boat.

He swam underneath the waves, popping up near the side of the massive ship. He moonwalked across the water and climbed up the side to the deck. When he was just a few feet from the top, he blew a bubble with his gum and tossed it onto the ship. Within seconds, a guard stepped on it.

“Ewww!” the guard yelled. “Wha-whoa! Gah!”

The bubble gum was Bratt’s secret weapon. As the guard lifted his foot, the gum grew to twice its original size; then it expanded even more, covering the deck of the ship. It was like the Blob, only bigger and faster and pinker. Within just a few seconds, it had completely engulfed the guards and was oozing down the sides of the ship.

Bratt hopped onto the deck, moving easily around the gum as the last of the guards were swallowed into the sticky pink mass. Bratt dropped down a manhole and went deeper into the ship, searching for his prize.