The Extraordinary Adventures of Ordinary Boy, Book One: The Hero Revealed (23 page)

PROFESSOR BRAIN-DRAIN
SHOWER CAPS

This shoddy item marked a low point in the history of Indestructo Industries. The first flammable version caught on like wildfire, but not in a good way. Following the recall, a second flameproof version was produced with even poorer results. The fact that most people do not have steel colanders on their heads that need protection while showering could perhaps explain this lack of demand. There was also the problem of putting something on your head which has the Brain-Drain name on it. In fact, those few consumers who actually bought one definitely felt dumber having done so.

“You creep,” I interrupted him. “I’ll never buy anything made by Indestructo Industries ever again.”

I knew it sounded feeble the second I said it, but I didn’t know what else to say.

“You won’t have the chance, son,” the Professor replied. “Your brain will soon be drained. Although, in fact, that
would
make you an ideal consumer,” he added. “Anyway, what were you about to say, Tycoon?”

“I was going to mention,” he continued, “that the few Professor Brain-Drain products we’ve created over the years have also completely sold out. There wasn’t much to begin with, I admit, but it’s all gone. We even finally got rid of those Professor Brain-Drain shower caps that we put out over four years ago.”

“I use mine daily,” the Professor responded indignantly. “And I’ve always argued that you don’t produce nearly enough products bearing my image.”

“That’s why I’m here,” said the Tycoon.

“Go on,” said the Professor, clearly interested. He guided the Tycoon over to the table at which he had so recently hosted us. “I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. If I like it, you just might be able to go on thinking.”

That made the Tycoon do a double take! I know it was kind of a mean thought, but the Tycoon drained of his intelligence might not be such a bad thing. It probably wouldn’t change his power, though, and he’d still be able to make money even as a Dumbot.

“Kids have gone crazy for Professor Brain-Drain,” he revealed. “They can’t get enough of you! So I’m here to propose the creation of a whole new line of Professor Brain-Drain merchandise.”

Clearly, the Tycoon was unaware that Professor Brain-Drain’s popularity with kids was plummeting as fast as the price of his collector card. Since it had only just happened in the last few hours, there was no way the Tycoon could know—yet! Well, I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

“Just let me show you the plans we’ve made,” he continued, removing some large, folded sheets of paper from his briefcase. “Here, for example, is the Professor Brain-Drain Lair of Evil play set.”

“It looks like an underground cavern,” commented the Professor.

“No kid wants a play set that looks like a floor in an office high-rise,” the Tycoon informed him.

“I see,” said the Professor. “And what is this?”

“These are sketches of the Brain-Drain Power Bike. It can go up to seventy-five miles an hour.”

“But I travel by blimp,” he informed the Tycoon.

“Blimps aren’t big with kids. Work with me.”

“What is this ropelike item?” asked the Professor. “Is it a noose?”

“Even better! You’ll love this!” gushed the Tycoon. “It’s the Brain-Drain Bungee Cord. Kids hook them on their ears and then wrap them around their heads to hold their brains in—like this!”

“I believe their skulls perform that function,” replied Professor Brain-Drain. “What about my own line of Bunsen burners? Children still love Bunsen burners, don’t they?”

“I’ll check with my market research department.” The Tycoon sighed in exasperation. “In the meantime, all I need is your signature on these contracts to get started.”

“Ah yes, the contracts.” The Professor’s eyes seemed to zero in like arrows on the oily businessman. “That reminds me. This seems like the perfect time to renegotiate our earlier licensing arrangement. The one that ends in just a few short weeks.”

“What are you referring to?” asked the Tycoon, who I’m sure knew exactly what the Professor was referring to.

“The licensing arrangement that I signed ten years ago that allows you to use my image in all your Amazing Indestructo TV shows, comic books, and other paraphernalia. The vast sums of money that the Amazing Indestructo has earned during this period have not gone unnoticed by me—especially as my own, once significant royalty checks have dwindled to practically nothing in recent months.”

“It was a fair deal,” protested the Tycoon, beginning to sweat even more. “And we still pay you what your contract requires. If your royalties are shrinking, it’s only because your likeness is being used less. But that’s not my fault. In fact, I’m here right now to try and do more with you, not less.”

Professor Brain-Drain didn’t say a word. His glasses stayed focused on the business executive.

“B-B-but if you are unhappy about it,” the Tycoon stuttered nervously, “the person to complain to is AI himself. Nothing is done without his approval.”

My eyes went wide with shock. What the Tycoon said couldn’t be true. The Amazing Indestructo would never have made a deal with his deadliest enemy.

“You’re lying!!” I yelled. “The Amazing Indestructo would never agree to that!”

It would have been better if they had said something. Instead they just looked at me and began chuckling. Now, more than ever, I knew we had to escape—if for no other reason than to warn AI about what was happening behind his back. An idea finally came together in my mind. But before I could put it into action, there was a loud roar, and suddenly something came crashing through one of the walls.

Smoke and dust billowed everywhere throughout Brain-Drain’s laboratory, and both the Professor and the Tycoon rose from their seats in surprise. As the dust cleared, we all realized who had burst in.

It was the Amazing Indestructo himself. Justice was about to be served.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Acting the Part

“AI! Help us!” we all cried.

Our hero had come to save us at last!

AI turned and looked at us blankly, as if kids in trouble were the last thing he had expected to find here.

“In a minute, youngsters,” he said. “I’ve got business to settle first.”

And then he turned away from us. My heart sank.

“There you are, you dastardly villain,” the Amazing Indestructo intoned. My heart rose again.

The Professor was standing with the Tycoon looking over marketing plans for Brain-Drain Brain Puffs Cereal—grayish puffs of corn shaped like miniature brains and fortified with two vitamins and oodles of sugar. To my surprise, though, AI strode forward, grabbed the Tycoon by the lapels of his jacket, and hoisted him into the air. He didn’t pay any attention at all to Professor Brain-Drain.

That’s okay, I convinced myself. He was just handling them one villain at a time.

“I was told I would find you here,” AI said, clearly annoyed. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What are you talking about?” protested the Tycoon. “I’m here on official company business. There’s an opportunity to make scads of money.”

“Money isn’t everything,” announced the Amazing Indestructo. “You know there are areas that are off-limits.”

I knew it! How could I have doubted my hero? He obviously hadn’t known the awful things that the Tycoon was doing, and now he was here to fix everything.

“Forget why I came here,” sputtered the Tycoon. “It’s no big deal.”

“What do you mean it’s no big deal?” hissed the Professor. “It’s a very big deal indeed.”

“Look, I only set a few limits on what you can do,” said the Amazing Indestructo. “If you stay within those boundaries, you can do whatever you want—as long as it sells.”

My emotions were being played like a yo-yo. I couldn’t believe the cynical dealings that were behind my favorite toys, TV shows, and snack products—not to mention my one-time hero. There! I finally admitted it to myself. That was it. The Amazing Indestructo wasn’t my hero anymore. He didn’t deserve to be.

“The reason I’m here,” AI continued, “is that you ignored one of those rules. I’m here because of that card you put into the collector packs.”

“The Professor Brain-Drain card?” said the Tycoon, confused. “I only made three of them, just like you told me to.”

“So it
was
you.” Professor Brain-Drain glared at my former favorite superhero.

“Not the Brain-Drain card, you idiot,” spat AI in an undignified manner. “I’m talking about the card for Meteor Boy.”

The Tycoon visibly gulped. The corners of Professor Brain-Drain’s mouth turned up slightly in an evil-looking smirk.

“I couldn’t think of anybody else,” the Tycoon tried to explain. “And we only made ten of them!”

“You know the rule. No references to Meteor Boy, ever,” said AI.

“Ah, yes.” The Professor cackled (and I do mean cackled—this was no chuckle). “Poor Meteor Boy. Any mention of him and his ill-fated first adventure brings it all back, doesn’t it, my old friend? You may be invulnerable to everything, but you can’t shake the guilt that you still feel for that poor lad’s demise. You have tried to make him disappear from the public’s collective memory, yet he still lingers in yours like a specter of shame.”

The heroic expression on AI’s face suddenly began to quiver, and then it dropped as fast as my opinion of him.

“
You’re
the one responsible for what happened to him, not me!” accused AI as he dropped the Tycoon on the floor in a heap and turned on Professor Brain-Drain.

“Am I really?” the Professor responded, his blank glasses boring into AI’s rapidly blinking eyes. “Why was Meteor Boy even there that day?” I expected the Amazing Indes-tructo to let loose with his patented uppercut and knock the Professor unconscious. Instead, AI fell to his knees and started sobbing.

“Ah, yes,” Professor Brain Drain continued as he walked up to the slumped figure and laid his hand gently on his shoulder. “You call me the villain. But I never did anything so foolish as expose a youthful sidekick to such danger.”

“What about us?” I hollered from where we still sat, trapped in the brain-draining device. “I’d call this ‘exposing kids to danger.’”

But none of them were paying any attention to me. AI had his head in his hands. Who knew he was such a baby?