Evil Leaves the Cap off the Toothpaste
I dug myself from the rubble. I was bleeding, but not too badly. They had left me for dead, trapped under a ton of collapsed ceiling. The Professor and The Complainer had revived Le Poop and taken the other sidekicks.
One thing that’s really cool about being fast is that sometimes you can do things faster than people can see. So after The Professor blasted the roof, I dove for cover under the Sidekick Super Computer desk.
And I made it.
It didn’t protect me completely, but enough to save my life — and if you ask me, that’s more than you can expect from furniture purchased at a yard sale.
“More money for me!” Pumpkin Pete had gloated when he stuffed the leftover twenty-dollar bills in his pocket. We had spent an entire Saturday driving from garage sale to garage sale looking for new Sidekick Clubhouse furniture.
Every bone in my body ached, but I had a job to finish. I had a whole lot of saving to do, and I was alone.
And then I heard the groan.
It was Exact Change Kid. He had been buried beneath the rubble as well. He was a little more beaten up than me, but otherwise okay. I helped him up.
“Thanks, Speedy,” he moaned. He looked at the mess of rubble and scratched his head. “It’s going to take forever to find all my pennies.”
“Don burry, dahm dure dere are benty mo in da Thidegick Thuber Gouch dofa gushions.”
Exact Change Kid gave me a blank stare. “Huh?”
Spelling Beatrice’s Scrabble tile nose clip! I took it off and tried again.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure there are plenty more in the Sidekick Super Couch sofa cushions. Come on. We’ve got to save them.”
“How?” Exact Change Kid asked.
Sometimes, you don’t worry about the how’s. Sometimes you just have to dive in and hope things sort themselves out. When people are in danger and you are their only hope, it’s really one of those times.
“Look!” I spotted a T tile on the ground by the huge hole in the far wall. Good old Spelling Beatrice had left her tracking tile behind, hoping someone would be able to use it. “We can track the homing Q tile that Spelling Beatrice still has!”
“Quick!” Exact Change Kid said, and I was very surprised, as I didn’t think “quick” was even a word in his vocabulary. “To the Sidekick Super Rocket of Blastingness!”
“We have a rocket!?” I said, shocked.
But Exact Change Kid didn’t answer. He raced toward the hole in the wall, and I ran as fast as I could with my throbbing ankle.
“Oh. Wait a sec,” he said, stopping.
Exact Change Kid walked to a door on the far side of the Sidekick Super Clubhouse and knocked.
“What?” an irritated voice called from inside.
“Who’s in there?” I asked Exact Change Kid, having always thought that that door was just a closet.
“Latchkey Kid,” Exact Change Kid replied and cracked open the door.
“Hey, me and Speedy are going out for a bit, okay?”
“Okay . . . ,” Latchkey Kid replied. He sat on a couch, watching TV, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“There’s some leftover meat loaf in the Sidekick Super Freezer of Frozen Justice,” Exact Change Kid told him. “Just put it in the microwave on high for four minutes, okay?”
“I know! I know!” Latchkey Kid spat back.
“You know, it’s a beautiful day out. Maybe you could go to the park or something?”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“Okay. We’ll see you around nine o’clock,” Exact Change Kid told him. “If it’s any later, we’ll call, and then maybe you can have Mrs. Johnson come over.”
Latchkey Kid didn’t answer. He stared at the TV and took a swig from his soda. Exact Change Kid slowly closed the door.
“Maybe we should call a sitter?” he asked.
“Come on!” I urged and pulled Exact Change Kid through the gaping hole in the wall.
We raced across the Sidekick Super Additional-Parking Parking Lot of Justice.
“Where’s the rocket?” I asked.
Exact Change Kid raced up to a cardboard box and crawled inside.
What awaited me inside was not an elevator that would take us down to the ultra-technology level of the Sidekick Super Clubhouse. It wasn’t a transporter that would beam us to the bridge of the rocket. It wasn’t even a go-cart with a chipmunk running on a treadmill as the engine.
“This isn’t a rocket!” I yelled. “This is just a cardboard box with knobs and dials painted on the inside!”
Exact Change Kid hung his head, broken by the pounding hammer of reality. “I know, I know,” he sobbed. “I was hoping no one would notice.”
I crawled out of the box and kicked it. My foot broke through the cardboard side.
“Oh, great!” Exact Change Kid shouted from inside. “Now it’ll never get off the ground!”
Spelling Beatrice’s tracking tile beeped in my hand. It grew faint. “Come on! The signal’s fading! They’ll be out of range soon!”
The two of us raced from the parking lot and stood on the street corner. I could run there myself, but my ankle was still hurting from being buried under the rubble, and I had to save all my strength for the final battle.
And there would be a final battle. I wasn’t about to give up.
“There!” Exact Change Kid shouted, pointing down the street.
“What?” I said. “It’s just a bus.”
“Just a bus to you. A fortress of solitude to me!”
The bus pulled over at the curb and we raced inside.
“Sir, by the power vested in me through the use of Spandex, I’m commandeering this bus for the battle against evil!” Exact Change Kid told the driver.
“Whatever,” the driver said, pulling from the curb. “That’ll be two dollars and ten cents. Each. Exact change only.”
Exact Change Kid leaped in front of me and thrust out his arms as if he was protecting me from a charging bull.
“Stand back, Speedy,” he said, filled with determination and purpose. “Stand back and watch me shine!”
Back at the Sidekick Super Clubhouse, Earlobe Lad raced into the main room.
“EVERYBODY! LOOK!” He shouted and pointed to a pair of giant lead earmuffs wrapped around his head. “NOW YOU CAN TALK AS LOUD AS — HEY... WHERE IS EVERYBODY?”
The microwave beeped. Latchkey Kid looked up from behind the open door of the fridge.
“They’ll be back around nine,” he said, popping open another can of soda.