And now, a superheroic excerpt from

INVASION FROM PLANET DORK

“Holy this-is-an-emergency!”

Superhero Melvin Beederman had been enjoying a long shower while singing one of his favorite Grateful Fred songs—“Love Is a Nose but You Better Not Pick It.” All was well in his world. He toweled off, rubbed some Melvin Mousse into his hair, forming a perfect M, flexed in front of the mirror, and went to see about breakfast. Was there a pretzel in the house? There was not. That’s what you call an emergency.

Holy this-is-an-emergency, indeed! It sure was. Even Melvin’s pet rat Hugo had something to say on the subject.

“Squeak,” he said with a twitch of his whiskers. This either meant “Get me some pretzels, and make it snappy,” or “You were a little flat on ‘Love Is a Nose but You Better Not Pick It.’” Melvin was never exactly sure what Hugo was saying. He just knew he wanted pretzels as much as his rat did. Maybe more.

Melvin and Hugo lived together in a tree house overlooking the city of Los Angeles, where Melvin saved the world on a daily basis, with the help of his partner in crime, Candace Brinkwater. But this morning, work would have to wait. He needed to stock up on snacks so that he and his pet could start the day off properly, by eating pretzels, drinking root beer, and watching their favorite TV show—The Adventures of Thunderman.

“I’ll be back in a flash,” Melvin said to Hugo, as he launched himself out the window. “Up, up, and away!”

Crash!

He hit the ground hard. He got to his feet and tried again.

“Up, up, and away!”

Splat!

He hit the ground even harder.

Once more.

“Up, up, and away!”

Thud!

And again.

“Up, up, and away!”

Kabonk!

On the fifth try he was up and flying. This was how it went with Melvin Beederman. It always took him at least five tries to get up and flying. But no matter. He was up in the air now and on a mission, which is the same thing as being on a pretzel run, but mission sounds better, so we’ll go with that. As he streaked across the sky, Melvin looked down, and what did he see? Underwear—and lots of it. He couldn’t turn off his x-ray vision, so he saw everyone’s underwear whether he wanted to or not.

But underwear was the least of his problems. Something didn’t feel right. Melvin could sense when trouble was brewing, and right now it was—or at least it was about to be. He didn’t care if trouble was brewing or if it was just thinking about brewing. Trouble was trouble, and it was his job to do something about it.