Nightmare at the Book Fair Page 4

  “What is it?” a senator asked. None of them were rushing forward to accept the gift.

  “It contains a pellet,” the alien said. “We have developed a source of power strong enough to meet the energy needs of your planet for a thousand years.”

  “That’s bull!” yelled one of the senators.

  “Impossible!” yelled another.

  “What are you supposed to do with the spent fuel?” a third senator asked. “Where do we store the waste?”

  “There is no waste,” the thing said. “No greenhouse gases. No pollution. No negative side effects.”

  “It sounds like an infomercial to me,” one of the senators near us muttered. “What’s the catch?”

  “When a civilization is in trouble as yours obviously is, we are duty bound to offer any assistance we can,” said the alien.

  “I suppose in exchange for this pellet you get to rule us,” said a senator. “Is that the way you work this scam?”

  “We ask for nothing,” said the alien.

  “We must confer,” one of the senators announced. “This is a democracy. We need time to talk it over.”

  “Be quick. Time is your enemy.”

  The creature moved to the far end of the chamber, while the senators squeezed into the opposite corner of the room, where we were standing. I could hear every word they said.

  “I don’t trust this guy, if it is a guy.”

  “This pellet thing, if it works, would put the oil and energy companies out of business.”

  “Gas stations too.”

  “We’d have to revamp our entire energy system and redesign it from the ground up.”

  “The automobile industry would freak out.”

  “It will hurt the economy.”

  “…lose jobs.”

  “If we stop buying oil, it will set off a worldwide financial crisis.”

  “I come up for re-election in November. I don’t need this aggravation.”

  “That thing has got a lot of nerve, coming here and telling us how we should run things.”

  “He should mind his own business.”

  “Who knows what’s in that box? Maybe it’s a bomb. How did that thing get past security?”

  “Nobody travels a hundred thousand light years out of the kindness of his heart.”

  “He’s trying to control us. That’s his scheme. Trust me, he’ll have us worshipping him in no time.”

  “It’s a trick.”

  “It’s a trap.”

  “If they can get that much energy into a pellet, can you imagine the weapons they have? He could snap his fingers and wipe us out. That is, if he had fingers.”

  “I say we blow him to kingdom come.”

  “Yeah, let’s kill him now, while we have the chance.”

  Kill him? I huddled close to my classmates, as if that would provide any protection once the bullets started flying. I was safer in the haunted house. I was safer when I was falling out of that plane.

  One of the senators, who had been standing in the back and had not said anything, suddenly spoke up. He was an older man, with glasses.

  “Has it occurred to any of you,” he said, “that maybe this alien is making sense? Maybe we should listen to him.”

  All eyes turned to look at him.

  “Hey, whose side are you on, Whitney? Are you with us or against us?” one of the senators said.

  “How do we know Senator Whitney isn’t in cahoots with the alien?” said another. “For that matter, how do we know he isn’t an alien posing as one of us?”

  “They’ve infiltrated the government!”

  A couple of the senators grabbed the one they called Senator Whitney and put him in a choke hold.

  “Let’s vote on it,” one of the senators said. “All in favor of killing the alien, say aye.”

  “Aye,” virtually all of them said.

  “All opposed?”

  Senator Whitney struggled to speak. Otherwise, there was silence.

  “Majority rules,” said the senator who had conducted the vote. “That’s the beauty of democracy.”

  The senators, as a group, went back to the other side of the huge room, where the alien was waiting patiently.

  “We have a response for you,” one of the senators said.

  With that, he pulled a gun out of his jacket and fired it at the alien. I expected to see the alien collapse, or at least get knocked backward from the blow, but it didn’t even react.

  “You missed!” one of the senators shouted. “Shoot him again!”

  The senator fired again, and again there was no reaction from the alien. The senator pumped out the remaining bullets in his gun with the same effect. The bullets, instead of hitting the alien, were ricocheting around the room. We all hit the floor.

  “I just want to go home!” Lionel groaned.

  “Me too!” I replied.

  “The alien has put up some kind of a force field!” one of the senators hollered. “Let’s get him!”

  As a group, the senators charged at the alien. But as soon as they got within five feet of it, they screamed and fell to the ground. It was as if they had run into an invisible brick wall. They were all over the floor, moaning in pain.

  “I anticipated this response,” said the alien. “Any civilization that would purposefully waste its natural resources and gradually destroy itself with no thought about the consequences clearly lacks the intelligence necessary for long-term survival.”

  “Wh-what are you going to do to us?” one of the senators asked.

  “Put you out of your misery,” was all it said. Then it opened the box it had been holding. A blinding yellow light shot out. The floor started rumbling. The lights above began vibrating. Chunks of plaster started falling from the roof. The building was breaking apart. Something struck me on the head.

  Chapter 6

  Humor

  The Continuing Adventures of Captain Obvious and the Exaggerator

  Something struck me on the head. And then, I farted.

  It was one of those loud smelly ones that rattles the windows and clears a room. But I wasn’t in a room. I was outside. It looked as if I was in the middle of a cornfield or something.

  “Say, who cut the cheese?” somebody asked.

  I looked up, which is basically the only place you can look when you’re flat on your back. There were two guys standing over me. One of them had a big letter O on his chest. The other one had a big E. And they were both wearing tights.

  Now, when you see grown men wearing tights, it can only mean one of two things. Either they’re ballet dancers, or they happen to be guys who just enjoy wearing tights. However, there was a third possibility that had not even entered my mind.

  “We are Captain Obvious and the Exaggerator, the dynamic duo!” they said in unison.

  “And I am Captain Obvious!” said the one with the big O on his chest.

  “I guessed that because of the big O on your chest,” I told him.

  “Obviously!” said Captain Obvious.

  “And, by the process of elimination,” said the other guy, “I must be the Exaggerator, the greatest superhero in the history of mankind.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Well, no,” said the Exaggerator. “To be perfectly honest, that was somewhat of an exaggeration.”

  “I’m Trip Dinkleman,” I said, as they helped me up.

  “Our job is to fight evil,” said Captain Obvious.

  “Duh!” I said. “Isn’t that what all superheroes do?”

  “I felt it needed to be said,” Captain Obvious said.

  “We use our power of exaggeration and pointing out the obvious to defeat evildoers and make the world safe for humanity,” said the Exaggerator. “We are the number one fictional crime-fighting superhero team in the world.”

  “What about Batman and Robin?” I asked.

  “Well, maybe we’re number two,” admitted the Exaggerator.

  “You appear to have taken a nasty spill
there, young fellow,” said Captain Obvious. “What happened?”

  “Well, it all started when I was at my school book fair—”

  “Stop right there!” interrupted Captain Obvious. “Is a book fair some sort of a fair where books are sold?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I told him. “And something fell on my head.”

  “I bet it was a two-ton anvil!” said the Exaggerator.

  “Obviously,” said Captain Obvious.

  “I don’t think there are any anvils at my school,” I told them.

  “A safe?” asked the Exaggerator. “When something falls on someone’s head in cartoons, it’s usually a safe or an anvil.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “A piano maybe?”

  “I think it was just some books,” I told them.

  “Of course!” said Captain Obvious, snapping his fingers. “He was at a book fair. It had to be books!”

  They high-fived each other and seemed quite pleased with themselves.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “I guess it knocked me out or something, because I started having these weird hallucinations where I found myself in the middle of all these different kinds of books. In fact, I think I’m in the middle of one right now. All I want to do is go home so I can try out for the lacrosse team.”

  “That’s the most incredible story I’ve ever heard!” said the Exaggerator.

  “Really?”

  “Uh, no,” he admitted. “Not really.”

  “Do you have to exaggerate everything?” I asked him. “It’s really annoying.”

  “If I didn’t exaggerate everything, I couldn’t very well call myself the Exaggerator, now, could I?” he asked.

  “Obviously not,” said Captain Obvious.

  “Enough of this mindless introductory chit-chat,” said the Exaggerator, as he grabbed my arm. “We need your help. You must join us on a life-or-death mission!”

  “What?” I asked. “Why me?”

  “The world, as we know it, is threatened!” said the Exaggerator.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you exaggerating?”

  “Yes!” said the Exaggerator. “But we desperately need your help. Quickly, put this on!”

  He handed me a costume. It looked a lot like their costumes, but it had a big letter A on the chest. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the A stood for.

  “From now on,” said Captain Obvious, “you will be known as…The Alliterator!”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” I said.

  “Alliterating is saying a string of words that all begin with the same sound,” said Captain Obvious.

  “You mean, like Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers?” I asked.

  “See? He’s doing it already!” said the Exaggerator. “Every single sentence you say must be an alliteration.”

  “Every single one?” I asked.

  “Well, most of them.”

  Against my better judgment, I put the silly costume on. And do you know what? They were right! Something came over me almost instantly. I felt the power of alliteration surge through my body.

  “Singing Sammy sung songs on sinking sand. Sunday smiles shine sunny signs of spring.”

  “I think he’s got it!” said Captain Obvious. “Let’s go!”

  We hopped into the Exaggerator’s car, which was low and black and had flames shooting out of the exhaust pipe. It was really cool.

  “This baby can do three hundred miles per hour,” claimed the Exaggerator.

  “Really?”

  “Well, not quite,” he said. “But it goes really fast.”

  He was right about that. When he hit the gas, my head slammed against the headrest, and I felt the skin on my cheeks flapping in the breeze.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “That’s not very alliterative,” said Captain Obvious.

  “Which way will we wend?” I asked. “West?”

  “Our mission is to apprehend the most dangerous and despicable supervillain in the world,” the Exaggerator explained. “We understand that he is building a giant vacuum cleaner that will suck all the oxygen out of the atmosphere until humans can no longer breathe and we will all die.”

  “Rubber baby buggy bumpers!” I exclaimed.

  “Nobody knows what this evil supervillain looks like,” said Captain Obvious. “Nobody knows his name. But he has a secret hideout that is conveniently located not far from here.”

  We drove a few miles, and I knew we were getting close to the secret hideout when I saw a big sign at the side of the road that said, THIS WAY TO SECRET HIDEOUT.

  “Won’t he have gates and security and roadblocks and stuff like that to prevent people like us from getting in?” I asked.

  “No,” Captain Obvious told me, “there’s a parking lot right out front.”

  So there was. Finally, we reached the secret hideout. The Exaggerator flipped the keys to the parking attendant.

  “How vill vee ever know ven vee view the very vicious villain?” I asked.

  “It will be obvious,” said Captain Obvious. “You hide in the bushes. We’ll call you if we need backup.”

  He rang the bell, and a man opened the door. Peeking through the bushes, I recognized his face instantly. It was Professor Psycho, that lunatic who had tried to steal my face at the haunted house! What was he doing here? Was he now building a giant vacuum cleaner that would suck all the oxygen out of the atmosphere? And most importantly, why did he have a big letter I on the front of his shirt? Was it a disguise?

  “Well, if it isn’t Flotsam and Jetsam!” he said. “What a sight for sore eyes. You Goody-Two-shoes are like two peas in a pod. What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

  “This guy talks funny,” said Captain Obvious.

  “You hit the nail on the head, Captain O,” said Professor Psycho. “They call me…Mr. Idiom.”

  “Idiom?” Captain Obvious asked. “What’s that? An idiot with an M?”

  “Ignorance is bliss, Obvious,” said Mr. Idiom. “An idiom is a common expression whose meaning can’t be understood from the individual words in it.”

  “Oh yeah?” said the Exaggerator. “Well, we know all about your secret plan to build a giant vacuum cleaner that will suck the air out of the atmosphere. We’re going to put you away for a thousand years, Mr. Idiom.”

  “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” Mr. Idiom said, sneering.

  “You are the most evil supervillain in the history of the world,” said the Exaggerator, “and besides that, your breath smells like the rotting corpses of a million goats.”

  “Hold your horses,” Mr. Idiom said, putting his arm around the Exaggerator. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. Take a chill pill. Let’s bury the hatchet and turn the other cheek. Don’t get your dander up. There’s no use crying over spilled milk. Let’s not split hairs. Why burn your bridges?”

  “Enough idioms already!” said Captain Obvious. “You’re under arrest for attempting to suck up the earth’s atmosphere and suffocate humanity.”

  “Oh, put a cork in it, Obvious,” Mr. Idiom said. “It’s time to stop beating around the bush, stop mincing words, and get down to brass tacks. I have a bone to pick with you two. Here’s the bottom line. Your bark is worse than your bite, and you’re full of hot air. You’ve got a chip on your shoulder, and you bit off more than you can chew. The handwriting is on the wall. The chickens have come home to roost.”

  “Are you calling us chicken?” said Captain Obvious.

  “If the shoe fits, wear it.”

  “You are a bad man!” said Captain Obvious, and then he punched Mr. Idiom right in the nose!

  “Oh, that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back,” Mr. Idiom said, holding his nose.

  The next thing I knew, the three of them were fighting, punching, kicking, and rolling around on the ground.

  “The sky is blue!” said Captain Obvious, as he tried to strangle Mr. Idiom. “You have two eyes!”

/>   “Pointing out the obvious is no match for my endless arsenal of idioms,” said Mr. Idiom. “So button your lip and eat your heart out!”

  I figured that the number two fictional crime-fighting superhero team in the world would be able to beat up Mr. Idiom easily, but I was wrong. When the dust had cleared, Captain Obvious and the Exaggerator were sitting on the ground, back-to-back, with a rope tied around them.

  “Now the shoe is on the other foot, eh?” Mr. Idiom said. “You know, you guys just rub me the wrong way. You’ve gotten too big for your britches. I’m tired of playing cat and mouse. It’s time for you to face the music, pay the piper, fish or cut bait. And it’s time for me to lower the boom.”

  “Are you going to kill us?” asked Captain Obvious.

  “Oh, I’m going to kill two birds with one stone,” Mr. Idiom said. “I’m going to strike while the iron is hot and fix your wagon. I’ll pull out all the stops and make you eat your words. This is going to be a piece of cake.”

  “Stop!” the Exaggerator said, covering his ears. “Stop using so many idioms! I can’t take it anymore! I think I’m getting a migraine.”

  “You’ll never get away with this!” said Captain Obvious. “Bad guys always lose in the end.”

  “I’ve got you two over a barrel,” Mr. Idiom said. “You missed the boat, and now you’re up a creek without a paddle. It looks like you’re between a rock and a hard place. I’m in the driver’s seat now. Like it or lump it. You’re behind the eight ball. From now on, I call the shots. It’s time to give up the ghost. That’s the way the cookie crumbles.”

  “Oh, my head!” moaned the Exaggerator. “Too many idioms! My brain is going to explode.”

  “Save us, Alliterator!” shouted Captain Obvious desperately. “You’re our only hope!”

  “Alliterator?” asked Mr. Idiom. “Who’s that?”

  I jumped out from behind the bushes and grabbed him.

  “It is I!” I shouted. “The superhero do-gooder who speaks in alliterations. I slit the sheet, the sheet I slit, and on the slitted sheet I sit!”

  A lot of good that did. Mr. Idiom, or Professor Psycho, or whatever his name was, broke out of my hold and grabbed me right back. Within a minute I was tied up like the other two.