35 - Guest Star

Guest star? Did she expect me to fight some lame G-rated villain for her? Or do some babysitting? I raised my brow in confusion. “What do you mean, guest star?”

“Shhhh!” Honeycomb shushed me. She leaned in close and whispered. “Look, these Episodes are all pre-built for the kids. We have to check on the three beehives around the building because Pranky Jones keeps messing with them. They’re sealed off with plexiglass, so we don’t have to worry about getting stung or anything. Just take one of the Playpen Patrol with you. ”

“If I help you babysit, you’ll help me find Jumper as soon as we’re done?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’ll get your number and text you as soon as I hear anything, I promise,” Honeycomb nodded. She stuck out her hand. “You in?”

“Yeah, we’re in.” I shook the bee-girl’s hand.

“Awesome. I saw you on that sailboard. You can fly, so you can have The Cloud. You can collect him before he floats away if he drifts off. Fursona can have Outlet since their suit might be insulated, and I’ll take…Milkbar and Kid Zoomies, I guess.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Yeah.” Honeycomb rolled her eyes. “If you weren’t here, The Narrator would have to keep an eye on him. Either that or…I’ve used a ribbon before and dragged him around like a balloon sometimes.”

Alright. Okay. This was all fine and wasn’t a total waste of time. “Let’s get this going,” I said.

Honeycomb spent the next minute herding the Playpen Patrol into place by their respective guest stars. “Okay. Mrs. N, we’re ready!”

The woman in the tweed jacket looked up from her clipboard and pushed her curly black hair away from her glasses. “And then Pranky Jones struck!”

= = = = =

A tall, purple-haired man popped out of the daycare’s ball pit, and I found myself face to face with a childhood nightmare.

I’d sneaked into the living room one night when I was nine. I couldn’t sleep, and TV sounded like a great idea. Even before I became Understudy, I was really into superheroes. But the Episode I’d watched was a major league one. My first major league one. One I wasn’t ready for—one featuring Mister Twister. I’d had nightmares about his clown make-up for weeks, and I’d never told anyone about it, not even when Rocko contracted me. The odds I’d run into Mister Twister were near zero, especially when he retired when I was in tenth grade.

When he appeared in front of me, I lost it. I was nine again, and instead of menacing Tokyexico, the villain was menacing me! I didn’t know what chance I had against a top-fifty major leaguer, but I wasn’t a nine-year-old Extra anymore. I had powers, and I could fight back!

Mister Twister started laughing. “Ahahaha! Playpen Patrol, it’s time to feel the sting of loss! Wait, no—“

“[Stellar Ray]!” I waved my wand and gave Mister Twister a faceful of light-beam.

[You Hurt Someone! +1 Sad Point for Later]

“Hold up, hold up!” Mister Twister yelled. He held up his hands, revealing a sinister-looking device in one hand. I started waving my wand again, and he fled through a door into another room. “[Shrink-Wrap Surprise!]”

As I chased him through the door, my face bounced into something I hadn’t seen, and a second later, I slammed down on my back, driving the air out of my lungs. “Oooof!”

[HP 5/6]

I picked myself up and started chasing after Mister Twister. But before I could, I heard the tweed-suited woman’s voice. “Understudy, Fursona, Honeycomb, Pranky Jones, and The Narrator sat down to talk calmly while the Playpen Patrol played in the ball pit.”

= = = = =

[Tough Girl! +1 Tough Point for Later]

We’d sat down in a circle around a low table. The soft-cornered plastic furniture seemed like it shouldn’t support Fursona or Mister Twister, but it somehow held up. The woman—I assumed she was The Narrator by Honeycomb’s earlier explanation—cleared a few kid drawings off the table and coughed once. “Alright, Understudy, what was that?”

As soon as she said it, I felt her control slip, and I was me again.

My jaw dropped. How was this my fault? “That’s Mister Twister! He blew up a bus on TV! I had nightmares for years!”

“Heh, yep! Good times,” the purple-haired supervillain said. Then he smiled. The smile was genuine…almost warm. “Kid, I retired years ago. The whole Anti-Nap League did. Mister Twister disappeared. He’s gone. Nowadays, I’m…Pranky Jones!”

Pranky Jones. They were letting a known supervillain—one with no moral code who’d spent years in Almhurst—do kids’ Episodes? My jaw dropped.

“It’s totally safe,” The Narrator said. “None of the villains here want to hurt these kiddos. They’re just here to have a good time while we make fun, educational television. And if they did, I could narrate it all away in a heartbeat.”

“Alright.” My head was spinning. I was three feet away from my childhood nightmare, with nothing but a plastic table separating us, and no one seemed concerned. I made a mental note to look up The Narrator’s power, but if it worked on ‘Pranky’ like it did on Fursona and me, the kids were probably fine. Probably.

I hoped.

“So, what do we do, then?”

Pranky Jones looked at me. “First, I apologize for scaring you, and you apologize for blasting me in the face. Sorry.”

“Sorry,” I said. This was all so ridiculous! The camera drones lurked nearby, and everything we did felt like a kids’ show.

“Alright, now, you’re gonna grab The Cloud, and I’m gonna run. I’m gonna set five or six traps. Make sure The Cloud only hits a couple, but do it sneaky if you can. You can take four or five shots at me, however you want to. I’ve got a lot of superhero damage HP. Then I’ll disappear into a play structure and vanish or something. After that, let The Cloud lead. Got it, kid?” Pranky Jones stared at me.

“Got it.” I took a deep breath.

“Oh, and, uh, sorry about scaring you when you were little, too.” Pranky Jones cracked his knuckles. “Alright, Narrator’s got our backs. Remember, it’s a kid’s show, so make it cheesy! And go!”

“Suddenly, the Playpen Patrol noticed Pranky Jones!” The Narrator said.

= = = = =

The villain dashed past the ball pit, and Milkbar pointed at him. “There he is! Let’s get him!”

“[Newspaper Nightmare!] [Stacked Cup Smackdown!]” Pranky Jones yelled. He ran through a door, which slammed shut behind him.

A second later, Honeycomb called out over the chaos. “Milkbar, Zoomies, you can come with me! We have to check the beehives in case Pranky Jones is pranking the poor insects. Outlet, show the kangaroo where the second beehive is, and Cloud, you can—“

“The Cloud! I’m The Cloud!” The boy started tearing up, and I heard a faint peel of thunder.

“The Cloud, then. You’re with Magical Girl Understudy. Show her the third beehive.” Honeycomb clapped once. Alright, Playpen Patrol, go!”

“Playpen Patrol, go!” The pint-sized superheroes shouted, and off we went.

The Cloud took off toward the door Pranky’d been through. Literally. He left the floor, drifted toward the ceiling, and paused at the door. “Uh, Miss? Help!”

I sighed. The kid couldn’t reach the doorknob while floating near the air vents and tiles. I grabbed his foot and pulled him back toward the floor. As soon as his feet touched the ground, his hand wrapped around the door handle. He jerked it open and ran in.

I heard a terribly loud tearing sound. Then the sound of a hundred Solo cups clattering across the linoleum flooring. And then a sob.

When I tore through the wreckage of the newspapers that’d been taped to the doorframes, I found The Cloud hovering over a mound of red cups, tears dripping onto the floor. He held his knee, so I quickly looked while a camera drone hovered nearby. He was fine. Totally fine. “Looks like you got a little rugburn when you fell. Do you think you can be very, very careful from now on, The Cloud?”

The tiny-tot superhero nodded, unkempt red hair flopping everywhere, and sniffled. “Y-yes, Miss Understuffy. I’ll…I’ll try.”

While I worried over The Cloud’s slightly-skinned knee, part of me was frustrated. This was taking way too long. If the toddler kept rushing off, he’d actually get hurt, or it’d slow us down too much. Then, I got an idea. I helped the kid up, then pointed at Tails. “This is my best friend, Tails. She’s a scaredy-cat—“

<Am not! But I see what you’re trying to do, nya!>

“—and she needs your help to get to the beehive. Can you stay with her so she doesn’t get scared?”

[Good Thinking! +1 Smart Point for Later]

“Yeah, I can!” He wrapped a fist around Tails’ collar. She fidgeted, tail swishing, but didn’t hiss or pull away. Much.

Back on track. We’d only spent a minute caught by Pranky Jones’s first traps. We weren’t too far behind. I gestured toward a long, wide room at the end of the hall. “What’s back there?”

“Oh, that’s where we keep the first beehive! It’s shut right now, though. It’s so much fun! The bees walk down a tube, and then they fly away.”

“That sounds neat. Can you show me?”

As we got close, I realized I didn’t need The Cloud to show me the gigantic beehive behind plexiglass walls. It covered the whole back wall; there had to be a million bees. Maybe more, even. They swarmed down a long, clear tube and flew off outside. I watched, fascinated. “I bet Honeycomb loves it here.”

“That she does, kid,” a voice behind me said. “I figured she’d come here, but I’ll settle for bee-ting you!”

“Buzz off, Pranky Jones,” I said, twirling so my wand pointed at him.

[Silly Joke! +1 Silly Point for Later]

So, bee puns earned Style Points here? Huh. I could use that. I opened my mouth to engage in a silly pun war, but Pranky Jones started laughing before I could. “You think you can joke with me? Don’t make me laugh! It’s time for my [Maniacal Reveal]! I’m a clown, Miss Understudy. [Joke Joust]! Why was the bee’s hair always sticky?”

I groaned in advance, but The Cloud looked at the villain as he started hovering again. “I dunno. Why?”

“Because it used a honeycomb!”

[HP 4/6]

Had his pun…hurt so bad I took damage? This was so much worse than the Panic Pals’ rap songs. I groaned a second time, but The Cloud took one look at Pranky Jones and burst out laughing and squealing. “That’s Miss Honeycomb’s name!”

“What do you call a beehive with no exits?” Pranky Jones yelled.

“I have no idea. [Stellar Ray]!” My wand swished. A light ray zipped into his stomach, drawing an overly-dramatic grunt.

[You Hurt Someone! +1 Sad Point for Later]

Then he turned and ran again. Was he ever going to stand and fight? He pointed toward the door again. “Un-bee-leavable! [Shrink-Wrap Suprise]!”

“When Pranky Jones ran away, The Cloud and Magical Girl Understudy decided to check out the giant beehive,” The Narrator said over the loudspeakers.

= = = = =

The Cloud looked at me, eyes watery. “Are you okay, Miss Understuffy? Pranky Jones didn’t hurt you with his jokes, right?”

“I’m fine. Let’s check out the beehive. He was in here, so he might have messed with it somehow.” I strode over to the plexiglass barrier. Inside, I could see a little door with dozens of wooden frames. Each had honey on them, but the ones nearest to us seemed…empty. “Cloud, could you—“

“The Cloud!”

“—Yeah, The Cloud. Sorry. Do you remember if these all had honey?”

“Yeah, they did. The bees need some for winter. That’s what Miss Honeycomb said. We can only take a little bit at a time because if we take it all, the bees won’t be happy over the winter. ” The Cloud floated over to the window.

I already had my suspicions about how this Episode was going to go. But before I could voice them, The Narrator’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers again.

“And that was when The Cloud realized that Pranky Jones wanted to steal all the honey!”

= = = = =

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