Past, Future, & Present Danger

The Absurd Misadventures of Captain Rescue

(Book 2)

by Joshua Price

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2011 by Joshua Price

No time streams were damaged during the writing of this novel, at least none that will be missed. Trust me, they had it coming.

For Bryanna,

Because dedicating two books to myself would just be weird.

The Professional Log, or Prolog(ue)

Captain Rescue dangled helplessly as splashing erupted from the churning waters below. As the blood rushed to his head, the hero realized just how many nights he spent hanging upside down like this while his cape tickled the back of his neck. Most of the time, it was due to the antics of a certain super villain, but sometimes, just sometimes, the hero did it to himself—completely by accident. He just happened to get his foot caught, and he just happened to wind up upside down.

Looking back, Captain Rescue could see how suspicious the ad was. He probably should have thought twice before picking up the handwritten note someone slid underneath his door, but it said free kittens, and Captain Rescue could not resist free kittens. At the time, he thought nothing of it, but when he arrived at the abandoned cat litter factory and someone knocked him over the head, he thought that, in all likelihood, it was a trap. When he woke up and found himself suspended over a pool of who-knows-what, Captain Rescue found those suspicions confirmed. He struggled out of frustration more than an attempt to free himself as the chains above clanged together. The hero swung back and forth, looking first to the water below and then to the factory surrounding him. Before long, he found her standing on a catwalk and looking just as malevolent as ever.

The super villain laughed. “I am honestly astonished that you fell right into my trap! It was a longshot, but you have proved me wrong yet again, Captain Rescue!”

“But the flier said free kittens…” the hero grumbled.

“Yes, it was a test to see how easily I could trap you!”

“Did I pass?”

Dr. Malevolent smiled. “With flying colors.”

He glanced down just as a large fin emerged from the turbulent waters. “Oh god! Sharks!” Captain Rescue yelped.

“Wrong!”

A familiar whistle filled his ears. “Dolphins?! Aren’t… aren’t they naturally docile?”

“Not these! In fact, they’ve been conditioned to… how do put this is layman’s terms… to bite your face off!”

Captain Rescue cried out in terror as a dolphin leapt from the water and grabbed hold of his cape. With a sharp jerk, the animal ripped it from its spandex clasps.

The hero’s eyes began to well up. “But what about the camping trip!? You said you’d go!”

Dr. Malevolent sighed and slammed her fists against the catwalk railing. “Alright, I’ll make you a deal. If you are somehow able to make it out of my death trap alive, then I will go on this camping trip with you. However, I will probably try to kill you multiple times during it.”

While still dangling upside down, Captain Rescue grew quiet for a moment as he thought the proposal over. “You have a deal,” he finally said.

Dr. Malevolent smiled merrily and lightly tapped the shiny red button before her. The pulley system suspending the hero dropped him a foot towards the water.

“Wait! Wait! Aren’t you at least going to tell me about your evil plans of evilness?”
Dr. Malevolent appeared confused. “This is it. You are my plan. I spent six months out at sea capturing and conditioning dolphins to kill you. I gave you that ad to lure you to this factory, and I had Boris here whack you over the head with a metal pipe so we could string you up and feed you to them.”

Captain Rescue nodded. “I did think there was something suspicious about free kittens at an abandoned factory.”

“Don’t lie, you just expected free kittens, and now you’re disappointed there aren’t any.”

“Wow,” he stammered, “you know me so well.”

“Too well.”

As Dr. Malevolent pressed the button once more, Captain Rescue fell another foot closer to the increasingly turbulent water. As he squirmed and twisted, the hero realized he did not have the flexibility to slide his hands out of the taut rope or the strength to rip them free, but his utility belt did, and it just so happened that Dr. Malevolent left it wrapped around his waist. Captain Rescue slammed his knuckles against the belt and a sharp razor blade shot out. He quickly sliced through the rope—as well as piece of his hand—and the bonds tumbled into the pool below.

Her right hand man reached for the button to release Captain Rescue, but Dr. Malevolent stopped him. “No, let’s watch him struggle a little, Boris.”

“Why won’t you call me Charlie? It’s all I’ve ever asked of you!”

“For starters, that’s not even your real name. Besides, I have enough trouble calling you Charlie when you’re wearing that stupid damned bunny outfit. I’m not doing it when you’re not.”

“But your name isn’t even Dr. Malevolent,” he pouted.

“Just shut up and watch the show,” she answered irritably.

Captain Rescue took a deep breath and gazed at his feet high above him. The hero mustered all his strength, reached up, and then tried to pull himself to his ankles, but it was harder than it sounded. He still had a hard time wrapping his head around how much physical labor was required to do this crime-fighting thing. The hero tried once more; this time he managed to grab hold of the rope around his ankles and was able to hoist himself up. Feeling accomplished, Captain Rescue hastily untied his feet and slipped them free of their binds. Immediately—and quite strangely—the pulley system started to shrink rapidly and the hero hadn’t the foggiest clue why. Milliseconds later, he splashed back first into the pool and faded underneath the churning waters.

Dr. Malevolent leapt into the air, cheering as if she had won the lottery, and then gripped the railing in excitement. The super villain leaned over and watched as Captain Rescue’s head bobbed in and out of the water screaming for help. She couldn’t wait to fish whatever was left of him out of the water. Dr. Malevolent would then take the mangled cadaver back to her evil headquarters for all her evil friends to admire. She slapped Boris’s shoulder and laughed, and then the two scurried down from the catwalk to get a better look at the pool.

***

“Go get that ladder,” She ordered while jumping up and down to catch a glimpse of the water’s surface.

While Boris darted off, Dr. Malevolent stayed near the pool waiting for it to fill with blood, but as the seconds ticked by, the turbulence faded without any signs of that lovely color. Just when the super villain began to think that perhaps Captain Rescue had magically disappeared, a hand broke the surface of the water and gripped the rim of the pool. She let out a startled screech as a drenched lump tumbled over the edge and collapsed against the ground below like a wet washcloth. A trio of dolphins stuck their heads out of the pool and whistled with glee. The hero’s suit was in tatters, but aside from a few bumps and bruises, he appeared unscathed.

“What!” Dr. Malevolent yelled, “They didn’t kill you?!”

Captain Rescue shivered. “No, they didn’t seem too interested in killing me.”

“Then what on earth happened in there?”

“I’d really rather not talk about it.”

Captain Rescue stumbled to his feet as Boris came running up with a ladder in his hands. While ringing the water from his spandex, the hero glared at the two of them. Boris dropped the ladder, which clattered against the ground, and grabbed the same pipe he used to subdue the hero in the first place. He took Captain Rescue by the collar and lifted him from the ground. With the hero in one hand and the pipe in the other, Boris smiled.

“You don’t want to do that!” the hero argued.

“And why not?”

“I’d be forced to do this!” Captain Rescue shouted.

In the blink of an eye, the hero dove into his utility belt, grabbed a small vial filled with a red liquid, and splashed it into Boris’s eyes. The henchman immediately released his grip of both the metal pipe and the hero. The latter of which fell his knees and then slowly got to his feet. With a wicked smirk, the hero watched as Boris stumbled backwards rubbing his sore eyes. While the henchman was still stunned, Captain Rescue grabbed the pipe off the ground and marched across the factory floor as the hunk of metal scraped across the ground with an ear-piercing shriek.

“What the…” Boris moaned, “What did you put in my eyes?”

Captain Rescue lifted the pipe and pulled it back. “Hot sauce!” the hero cried as he cracked Boris upside the head.

The henchman spun around and fell over, revealing Dr. Malevolent cowering behind him. Captain Rescue walked towards her while tapping his palm with the metal pipe.

She took a step back. “Uh, there’s no need to resort to violence.”

He continued his advance without saying a word.

“It was nothing personal—really—I was just doing my job.”

Captain Rescue stopped, his nose almost touching hers, and continued to tap the metal rod against his palm.

“Uh… I’m sorry.”

“So,” the hero finally spoke, “camping trip, are you in?”

Dr. Malevolent sighed. “Sure, fine, whatever. Just don’t beat me.”

Captain Rescue dropped the pipe, grinned, and gave the super villain a hug.

Chapter 1: Why Must There Always Be Skinny Dipping?

“Oh, the wheels on the bus go round and round,” Captain Rescue repeated from the second row seat of the borrowed school bus.

Directly behind him, Dr. Malevolent clenched her fists in an attempt to keep the veins in her neck from bursting and her pounding temples from disturbing everyone around her. She knew replying to just one of the flurry of emails Captain Rescue sent in the months following the zombie outbreak was a bad idea. “Camping trip” this, “we should get together” that, and as another verse of “Wheels on the Bus” began, the super villain reeled around and smacked her arch-nemesis across the face with her inanimate carbon rod.

The hero rubbed his sore jaw. “I thought everyone loved that song.”

“On the contrary,” Dr. Malevolent said as she slid the rod back into its holster, “adults hate that song.”

“But… I love it,” Captain Rescue whined before crossing his arms and pouting.

“You and every other third grader I know.”

“Did you just call me a third grader?” he asked with a childish snarl.

“Yes.”

“Does it bother you that you belittle people like you do?”

She rolled her eyes and said dryly, “No.”

The school bus shook violently as the roads leading towards the campsite degraded with each mile traveled, and sure, Freight’s inability to drive a school bus played a part as well. When they realized nobody had a clue how to drive one of these clunky vehicles, everyone drew straws. Since Freight happened to get the shortest, he won bus-driver privileges, and the giant man would make sure they regretted forcing him into this position by spitefully gunning the bus whenever he saw an opportunity to unleash the most discomfort possible, and these roads made the job easy.

Captain Rescue heard the radio spouting something interesting, so he leaned over his seat and cranked up the volume.

“Reports indicate that an alarming percentage of campers going into the woods within the last few months have disappeared entirely. Authorities are at a loss to explain who’s behind these disappearances. Let this be a warning to any prospective campers out there this weekend.”

“Oh great!” Dr. Malevolent said as she glared Captain Rescue, “Not only do I have to spend an entire weekend with you, we might not make it out of this alive.”

Freight laughed. “I don’t know. We made quick work of a few thousand zombies.”

Captain Rescue’s eyes beamed. “Yes, let’s save this hapless campers and make the new citizens of our fair city love us all over!”

By new citizens, Captain Rescue meant the droves of people lured to their city to replace the ones killed by zombification and then rekilled. It only took a few weeks and a few well-placed internet ads to get this done, but the buffer period left the city a veritable ghost town as people trickled in. Captain Rescue found the entire situation quite exhilarating as he paraded around an abandoned city completely naked, save his mask. No hero would ever leave the safety of a secret base without his or her mask. That was just insane. Without a mask, a superhero would just be a crazy person in a costume.

“So, Captain Rescue,” Dr. Malevolent snarled indignantly, “where is this fabled camp site we’re going to spend a few hours at before we’re all killed.”

“Oh, I dunno, I just thought we’d rough it and pick the first spot that looks decent.”

“Not surprising at all, let’s just stop here. It seems suspicious enough.”

Freight slammed his huge foot against the brake pedal and the bus jolted forward, throwing everyone against the seats in front of them. Once Captain Rescue finished peeling his face off the fake leather, he cheered and scurried into the cool forest air. Following him off the bus was Boris, who descended the steps with a large duffel bag in his hands. Before departing on this little road trip, Dr. Malevolent threatened to fire him if he came as that damn rabbit. Her right hand man did as instructed, but he brought Charlie with him just in case. As Dr. Malevolent followed Boris off the bus, she slammed her shoulder against him, and the super villain could not help but to cringe at the duffel bag and its contents.

After wandering aimlessly through the woods for almost an hour, the campers found just the spot to pitch their tents: an abandoned campsite. All over, tents had collapsed under the weight of forest leaves. Apparently, the original campers fled in a hurry and left behind everything they brought with them, including an overturned cooler. Its contents of rotten sandwiches had spilled onto the forest floor, where ants tried their best to penetrate the cellophane cocoon.

“Do I even want to know where these campers went?” Dr. Malevolent asked as she poked the plastic baggies with her foot.

Freight chuckled. “I doubt it.”

“They’re missing!” Captain Rescue exclaimed as he stood upon the charred campfire, “We have to save them—right after we make s’mores!”

The hero grabbed the reins of the backpack he had strapped over his shoulder and flung it to the ground. He tore into it, and within a fraction of a second, a pile of yummy goodness had risen before him.

“I’m glad you’re putting your own juvenile love for sweets ahead of saving people. You are a true hero,” Dr. Malevolent said as she stared at the disgusting pile of junk food next to the hero.

With a mouthful of pastries and surely about to choke, Captain Rescue mumbled, “Pfft, we just got done saving the world like yesterday. I need a break; I’m pooped.”

“By ‘like yesterday’ you must mean ‘a few months ago.’ And in the meantime you’ve been quiet lazy, as your 40 emails a day would imply.”

“I thought we hit it off pretty well,” Captain Rescue argued as food spilled from his lips.

“No, we didn’t. I want to kill you.”

Her words did not seem to faze him in the least. He just smiled at her as he piled wood onto the fire so he could make s’mores.

“Wait a sec,” Dr. Malevolent said, resurrecting the conversation, “how did you even get my email.”

The hero poked the fire and almost melted his cape. “Your website—the contact information.”

“I guess I should have figured that one out, drmalevolent@evilgenius.net did have a nice ring to it.”

“It most certainly did!”

“Shut up.”

Freight interrupted their banter by running off into the woods alone. Nobody took much notice of his disappearance, and Captain Rescue continued to stifle the fire with one hand as he dug through his backpack for graham crackers, marsh mellows, and chocolate bars. The hero barely paid attention to the cinders flung about, which were sure to send a certain bunny’s suit up in flames. A few minutes later, Freight reemerged from the woods with blood drenching his plaid shirt and denim overalls and a deer carcass slung over his shoulders. Without acknowledging the others, he strutted over to the campfire and tossed the large corpse onto the flames, smothering both the fire and Captain Rescue’s valiant attempt at making s’mores.

“I don’t think we can cook it like that,” Boris said as darkness enveloped him and everyone else.

“Who said anything about cooking it?” Freight laughed, “I just did not want that retard to set the entire camp on fire while he tried to make s’mores. We’re going to eat it raw.”

“Isn’t that really dangerous?”

“For you, maybe. I’m a man.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

As the gang watched Freight feast, they thought that maybe he had spent a little too much time with the zombies. The ghastly sight ruined their appetites. He flayed open the deer’s chest with his bare hands and shoveled pieces of bloody meat into his mouth. Into the cavity went his forearm and out came organ after organ. The man would rip out a single hunk of flesh with his teeth, eat it, and then toss the bloody mess to the dirt. Twenty-five seconds after the encounter started, Freight had picked the deer bones clean. As they watched him, the others had the nagging suspicion that his insanity had only grown since the zombie apocalypse’s explosive conclusion.

To celebrate that outbreak of yore, Captain Rescue decided to host this camping trip for everyone involved. He only received one no, and miraculously it was not from Dr. Malevolent. The hero was disappointed that Stubbs (who did not say no so much as he said—nothing) would not be making the camping trip. The zombie had issues integrating into society due primarily to that new corpse smell. The last thing Captain Rescue remembered hearing about their old friend was that he wandered across state borders to lead a reclusive life away from the better-smelling living.

Apparently, Freight quit the police force, or more precisely—the police force kicked him out. They suspected that he could no longer tell good, from bad, from zombie. Therefore, shunned from the only home he had ever known, Freight wandered the deserted town and grew eccentric and rich from looting. Other than this madman, the only person more ostracized by society was Stubbs, but he was a zombie. So that kind of made sense, and even he, whose kin tried eating everyone, did not have a shotgun for a wife, and boy did Freight love that shotgun. Courtney was a vegetarian, or Freight would have shoveled some of this tasty deer right down her throat.

With the first campfire commandeered by both Freight and a dead deer, Captain Rescue went about setting up a second. The hero tossed a bundle of logs into a makeshift pile that barely resembled that of a normal campfire. He dug into his backpack, pulled out a bottle of lighter fluid, and gingerly squirted every last ounce onto the wood. Captain Rescue lit a match, tossed it onto the campfire, and, as the flames shot skyward, nodded approvingly. After the painstaking journey in which he learned how not to set himself on fire, he went back to making his revered s’mores.

Boris came and plopped down next to the fire. Over his shoulder, Freight had curled up next to the deer carcass and was cradling it, and his shotgun, rather awkwardly. As Boris kept his duffle bag shielded from the flames, he watched Captain Rescue create a marshmallow-rotating rotisserie. Without taking notice of the work the hero was putting into this, Boris grabbed a loose branch, jabbed a marshmallow with it, and then shoved it into the flames. He released a depressing sigh just before pulling the charred snack from the fire and sinking his teeth into it. Captain Rescue raised a single eyebrow for a moment, but chose to ignore the sigh and any feelings that might have accompanied it. Feelings were, after all, icky.

As Boris sighed once more, Captain Rescue slouched in dismay and asked, “What is it?”

“Oh nothing,” he replied distantly as he hugged the duffel bag tightly.

“Good,” Captain Rescue said, closing the subject.

He pulled his marshmallows from the fire and crammed four of them between two graham crackers with pieces of chocolate between each one. He opened his mouth and, in horror, realized that there was no way for him to get the s’more sandwich between his lips. Unperturbed, Captain Rescue shrugged and shoved his face into it anyway. Suddenly, loudly, and quite painfully, the hero remembered that campfires were hot and screamed bloody murder. Across the campsite, Freight, who was lost in thought, leapt to his feet still holding the clattering bones close to him. At realizing there had not been a crisis of any sort, he just collapsed back to the dirt and curled up once more with the deer. Captain Rescue rubbed his lips, blew onto the sandwich, and then gave it another go. This time around, everything happened more smoothly. No pain or screaming.

With s’more time concluded, which he had been looking forward to the entire trip, Captain Rescue entered the next phase of his camping trip: songs around the fire. The hero dug into his backpack once more and unzipped a pouch in the back. He began tossing countless cotton swabs over his shoulder, removing the padding put in place to keep the beautiful miniature acoustic guitar, procured especially for this camping trip, from harm.

Captain Rescue came up with this plan without considering one thing—he did not actually know any campfire songs, nor did he have any clue how to play the guitar. Nevertheless, the pseudo musician cleared his throat in an attempt to garner the interest of his fellow campers, who ignored him entirely. The hero, oblivious to their disinterest, got to work. He might have had no idea how to play a guitar, but he had seen it done a few hundred times across a few hundred venues. Just as he had seen countless rock stars do, he placed his thumb behind the neck and two fingers across the strings. Then, he began to strum the guitar as if it had somehow wronged him and now deserved decisive punishment. Suffice it to say, the sound was quite dissonant. The strumming continued for fifteen seconds as everyone around cupped their ears in defense, and then the singing began.

“Dolphins! Oh Dolphins! They’re coming for us! They’re gonna get us!

Oh dolphins!

They might have killed my parents! They might have orphanated me!”

But I’ll get my revenge.

Yes, I’ll get my Revenge!”

Captain Rescue went into a killer miniature acoustic guitar solo, which sounded suspiciously similar to the slaughter of an innocent little kitten. When finished, he started the next verse:

“Death! Death! Death! Death! To the Dolphins! Dolphins! Dolphins! Dolphins!

They won’t kill me!

I will stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!

Them all! All! All! All! All!”

Under the assumption that the hero somehow malfunctioned and had now begun to skip, Dr. Malevolent jumped into action. Captain Rescue watched out of the corner of his eye as she snaked around and positioned herself behind him. She pulled her hand back and then unleashed a slap, but just before whacking the back of his head, Captain Rescue ducked, jumped to his feet, and was ready to begin the next verse.

“We have to stand up!

We have to fight! We have to fight!

We have to kill them all!

Kill all of the dolphins. Kill them dead!

Captain Rescue went into a psychotic breakdown as he stood over the fire, picked the strings with his teeth, and screamed into the tiny sound hole. Amidst the cacophony of awesome unleashed by the hero, a clatter of bones hit the forest floor. Then in an instant, Freight tore the guitar from Captain Rescue and crushed it like a soda can between his two mammoth hands. The cracking of wood and popping of strings practically killed the hero, and he retreated to his tent with tears streaming from his eyes. Dr. Malevolent congratulated Freight on a job well done, and Boris just sat by the fire cuddling his duffel bag.

“You know what?” Dr. Malevolent said to Freight as she crossed her arms and nodded with a faint smile.

With his plaid shirt and overalls still covered in blood, Freight shrugged and wiped the remaining deer gore from his mouth and chin

“We’d make a pretty good team, with the killing and the zombies and the general love of destruction we both share.”

“I’m a good guy,” Freight replied shortly.

She pointed at the deer bones. “PETA would disagree.”

“Animals aren’t people. I would never hurt another person.”

She pointed at Captain Rescue’s tent. “You sure seemed to hurt him.”

“He does not count.”

‘Well, would you at least think it over?”

“I have.”

She frowned. “Why must morals get in the way of what could be a beautiful working relationship. Can’t you just pretend you’re Robin Hood? Robbing from the rich and giving to the… me.”

Freight turned his back to her and swaggered towards his tent. “I don’t think so.”

Dr. Malevolent gazed into the campfire flames and contemplated other ways in which to recruit the mysterious man into her criminal organization. Maybe this camping trip would give her the chance to bond with him; she could really use someone like Freight. She gazed down at Boris, who was still sitting at the fire cradling the duffel bag—and not someone like that weirdo with his identity crisis. As the super villain opened her mouth to unleash a snarky remark, Boris looked up to her with puppy dog eyes—the epitome of sadness. She clamped her mouth shut, snarled at the man, and then plopped down on the dirt across from him. The two stared at each other for some minutes without speaking a word. They said all they needed to say through a series of squints, snarls, and hand gestures. The gist of the conversation, though, was something like this:

“Let me put on this costume.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“You suck.”

Boris might have been tempted to adorn the suit anyway, thus becoming Charlie, but Dr. Malevolent had threatened to fire both him and the suit many times before (him figuratively—from employment, and the suit literally—with fire). Since unemployment and suitlessness were two things he was not fond of, Boris abided by his boss’s wishes. Before the two could settle their silent dispute, Captain Rescue reemerged from his tent carrying a snack-filled baggie. With his hand obscuring the contents, he strolled to the campfire and stood over the other two. Dr. Malevolent watched him toss one of the grey objects into his mouth and she rose to her feet.

“What have you got there?” She inquired while Boris sulked between the two.

“Oh, just something to snack on,” he answered.

Dr. Malevolent saw a blurry mushroom fly between Captain Rescue’s teeth and said, “I think that, between the deer carcasses and miniature guitar performances, this camping trip has been exciting enough without the use of hallucinogens.”

“Is that what these things do? They’re going to make me light up like one of those halucigin lights?”

Dr. Malevolent ground her teeth in frustration, causing a sound loud enough for Boris to hear as he sat between the two, suddenly distracted from his costume by the sudden onset of hilarity.

“No!” she said, “You will not light up like a halogen light, you’ll hallucinate like a crazy person.”

“Wow,” he replied while gazing into the bag, “the grocery store should really put warning labels on these. I had no idea.”

“Wait… you bought those from the grocery store?”

“Uh yeah, from the produce section! Where else would I get mushrooms? They’re dangerous to just pick from the ground. My mommy told me so!”

“So, you just brought a bag of ordinary mushrooms?”

“I love mushrooms!”

“Well, that’s anticlimactic.”

He handed a mushroom to Dr. Malevolent. “Want one?”

She shrugged, snatched it from him, and popped it into her mouth. After swallowing it down, she smacked her lips and said, “Well, gracious host, what do you have in store for us now?”

Captain Rescue smiled. “I thought maybe we’d go skinny dipping. All of us together; there’s a lake nearby.”

Dr. Malevolent and Boris’s faces went white.

“Uh, actually. Maybe we’ll save the skinny dipping for another night. It is getting awfully late isn’t it? Don’t you want to wake up nice and early so we can do something camping trippy?” the super villain said.

Captain Rescue stared up at the moon and tried judge the time. “Wow,” he stammered, “I didn’t realize it’d gotten so late.” In actuality, it had not gotten late at all; he just had no clue how to use the night sky like a clock.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Malevolent egged him on, “let’s go straight to our tents before it gets any later!”

The hero yawned. “Wow yeah, I’m exhausted.”

Dr. Malevolent practically sprinted to her tent, hoping to get inside and zip it before Captain Rescue realized how early it still was. The hero climbed into his and almost immediately, the tent collapsed around him, but he made no attempt to pitch it again, and just went to sleep within his sleeping bag.

***

Dr. Malevolent groaned; was it really morning already? She knew what that meant: another day with that buffoon. Oh well, she would just lay here in this sleeping bag until someone forced her out of bed, but that, it seemed, would happen sooner than she imagined.

“Get out here, C—” Boris called out, almost using the villain’s first name.

“What have I told you about that?! I regret ever telling you! What is it!?”

“It’s Captain Rescue, he’s been kidnapped.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Dr. Malevolent said while still lying in bed. “Maybe he just wandered off.”

“No. Whoever took him left a note.”

Interested piqued, Dr. Malevolent slipped out of her sleeping bag as the cool air tickled her bare skin. She climbed into her khaki pants from the night before, put on her shirt, and then draped the lab coat over it all. She wove her leather belt through its loops, and then slid her inanimate carbon rod into its holster.

“Let’s see this note,” she said as she came out of the tent.

Near the smoldering remains of last night’s fire, Freight and Boris stood next to each other still in their underwear, and the super villain shook her head at the sight. Boris held a large scraping of bark onto which the kidnappers had scrawled a note. Dr. Malevolent took it from him and tried her best to read it.

“We have the hero,” she read, translating the terrible English, “and we’re going to kill him. Just letting you know.”

Boris scratched his side. “Yeah.”

“That’s no good. Who kidnaps someone and leaves a note like this behind. They couldn’t even put it on paper.”

“So.” Freight scratched his shoulder as the bugs got to both him and Charlie. “Are we gonna go after him?”

“Of course we are, I’m not gonna let just anyone murder that fool before I get my chance.”

Boris heard all he needed to hear. There was no way he could mount a rescue operation like this, as Dr. Malevolent’s lowly right hand man. He crawled into his tent and pulled out the duffel bag. The transformation would happen right here out in the open where everyone could see. He unzipped the bag and a blue hue emanated from within. Rather than taking the costume out of the duffel bag, Boris stepped into it. Dr. Malevolent and Freight looked on as the squirming bunny in the making slipped his feet into the padded shoes. He reached down, grabbed the legs of the suit, and pulled them over his own. Then, Boris grabbed the arms and did the same. In a natural, smooth, and quite dexterous motion, he reached around his back and zipped the costume as if he had been doing it since birth. Transformation nearly complete, he reached into the duffel bag with his plush bunny hands, removed Charlie’s head, and placed it upon his own.

“Let’s save us a Captain Rescue,” Charlie said, and then he glanced at Freight. “Right after you put some clothes on.”

Chapter 2: Naked People Make for the Best Torture

Captain Rescue awoke to darkness, damp soil tickling his toes. “Uh, this can’t be good.”

Above his head, he could feel his hands bound together, and the cool draft in his nether region indicated that someone had stripped him of his costume, but these captors respected the sanctity of superheroness enough to leave his mask on despite the oddness the scene evoked. Captain Rescue struggled to free himself of the binds, but in the seconds it took for that to prove ineffective, the hero turned to his higher power. He was certain that God would help him out of this pickle any second now. In a state of absolute tranquility, he stared into the darkness, positive there would be a sign—any sign, anything. He just hung there waiting. As the seconds ticked by, he became increasingly anxious. After some time he decided the reception down here sucked, and that God would not be coming to his rescue this day.

After he spent a few minutes unsuccessfully trying to free his hands from the taut rope, desperation kicked in. At this rate, the next phase of his escape would be chewing through his wrist, but desperation might not have been the best term to describe his motivations for such a disturbing act. If Captain Rescue suddenly found himself without a hand, there would be but one recourse—a robotic hand. Just one of the many things he wanted that he would probably never get. His body relaxed and he hung there, pondering on the possibilities. He could crush metal with a mere squeeze, or dangle from a tight rope indefinitely. The tips of his robotic fingers could fold away and he could shoot his enemies with tiny bullets. The thoughts made him giddy. It would be like having a real super power, something he thought he would never have the chance to experience.

In Captain Rescue’s mind, he pictured a man and his robotic hand rip the rope from his wrists like mere string. As this pale, naked cyborg fell to the dirt, captors and their flashlights flooded into the room. Before they knew what hit them, the cyborg swept from person to person and tore intestines clean from their abdomens. Just as he wrapped the intestines around himself as makeshift clothing, Captain Rescue was torn from his fantasy by the footsteps of the real captors. He clenched his non-robotic fist and cursed its organic ways.

“Hello?” the hero called through the darkness.

The footsteps neared without a reply.

“I don’t really mind that you kidnapped me or tied me up. I’m actually quite used to being tired up, but why did you take off my clothes?”

A crack of pain shot through his bottom.

Captain Rescue yelped in agony. “Okay! It all makes sense now!”

He could not see a thing, and as another streak of pain shot up from his butt, it surprised him that his captors could.

“You know,” he gasped for breath, “If I had a robotic hand, things would be a lot different right now!”

A deep growl accompanied the next whip crack.

“I don’t know anything!”

“You tell why you in our forest. Or we no stop beatings,” one of his captors said in very poor English.

“It was a camping trip! For fun! I brought mushrooms! Mushrooms!”

“You no here to steal our secrets? To spy on us in our forest?”

“I don’t even know who you are! Or that this was your forest! Why can’t we just get along?! Why must you continue to whip me?!”

“The beatings continue until we sure you no threat to us.”

“Threat?! How could I be a threat to you?! I’m naked! Naked! Naked without a robotic hand!”

Another whipped cracked across Captain Rescue’s bottom and he cried out, but as he did so, another even more high-pitched sound joined in on the symphony. The apparent leader of his captors yelled something and a flurry of footsteps left the room. More high-pitched wails resonated from somewhere nearby. Captain Rescue was certain he had heard these sounds somewhere else, but he could not quite put his finger on it. He strained hard to figure it out, diverting blood from the welts across and back. As his brain took advantage of the most blood it had used in years, it hit the hero.

They were lasers. Lasers just like the ones he had seen that freaky dolphin and those darned turrets using a few months back. His brain continued to take advantage of the oxygen rich blood as he pondered on the possibilities. Had the dolphins come to save him? Had the turrets come to save him? No, no, that seemed improbable, and he giggled at the thought of turrets waddling to his rescue. He squinted hard and tried to make out his whipping captors, but his oxygen rich brain soon reminded him of how dark it was inside the torture chamber and to stop being ridiculous.

While Captain Rescue argued with his brain about who had the superior intellect, a loud crash filled the torture chamber as something burst its way in. The hero could not tell left from right as a barrage of lasers cut through his would-be captors, raining singed flesh all over. Through the light show, Captain Rescue could make out distinctive figures, distinctive hairy bipedal figures, distinctive apes—apes with laser rifles. The legendary race of bigfoot appeared to be saving and torturing him. The hero had no explanation for this, but it flattered him in the warmest ways possible to know that his favorite primates wanted to both torture and save him.

“We have come to rescue you,” a familiar elderly voice said through the darkness.

At around the same time his bigfoot rescuers cut the ropes suspending him, Captain Rescue realized the pains of being whipped. His entire back felt like someone had drenched it in lighter fluid and then lit it on fire, and don’t even get him started on what his butt felt like, but it reminded him of a childhood spent bent over while his father spanked him. Captain Rescue straightened his posture and felt the warm dampness of blood covering his back.

He took a deep breath and said as heroically as possible, “I need my uniform.”

After a short time, the hero felt a clump of spandex wrapped in a utility belt press into his stomach.

“Mind turning your backs while I get into something more suiting?”

Captain Rescue could hear the shuffle of big feet as he got back into his spandex costume. Luckily, the skin-tight outfit stopped much of the blood loss and would, with any luck, keep him from passing out. He wrapped his ornate and trustworthy utility belt around his waist and buckled it tight. Just as the hero attached his heavy leather cape to the costume, his ape allies thrust a bulky, cold, and metallic object into his hands. As he felt it, finally discerning that it was a laser rifle, he wished someone would flip on a damned light. One of the bigfoot must have been reading his mind, because no sooner than thinking those thoughts did a flashlight flip on. Captain Rescue could see a small group of bigfoot standing before him, led by none other than the aged shaman he had already met when he and his friends were chasing down the source of the zombie outbreak. The shaman had duct taped a laser rifle to his staff—probably not the most practical culmination of tools, but it sure did look cool.

“Let’s get you out of here,” the shaman said to Captain Rescue.

“Where are we?” the hero replied as he wiggled around some. The wounds of the brutal beating he had suffered were getting to him, but, as a true hero, he hid his discomfort from the scantily clad bigfoot.

“Underground, surrounded by my brainwashed brethren.”

“Brainwashed? How?”
“Gigantic fish.”

“Fish? Oh! Dolphins! They’re actually mammals.”

“They look like fish.”

“Yes, but in reality, they are mammals. They need to come up for air.”

Captain Rescue grinned. For once in his life, he had the chance to spread knowledge. When he decided to undertake this lifelong grudge against dolphins, the hero spent the better part of a weekend nose deep in encyclopedias (the internet did not exist yet). At the time, he considered himself an expert on the mammals. Since then, he had forgotten much of what he learned.

“Let’s blow this joint!” Captain Rescue exclaimed as he tried to figure out a way to cock his laser rifle, or to discover if it cocked at all. The hero paused for a moment, and then inquired, “How far are we from the surface?”

“Rather far, human, and the path ahead is quite dangerous.”

“Then let’s get started!” the hero cheered as he headed straight for the torture chamber’s exit. Somewhere along the way, he got lost and instead found the damp embrace of a dirt wall.

“Anyone have a spare flashlight?” the hero asked as he spat clumps of dirt from his mouth. Maybe one day he will learn to keep it shut at inappropriate times.

One of the bigfoot handed him an old flashlight. Captain Rescue flipped what he assumed to be the switch and nothing happened. He snapped it back and forth a few times before smacking the end of it with his palm until it decided to cooperate. Eventually it did, and the hero scanned the walls for the exit. The small tunnel dug through the dirt was not nearly as hard to locate as he thought it would be. Around the entrance, the destroyed remains of a wooden door and its frame lay scattered around, left when the bigfoot burst their way into the room.

Without worrying about what could be waiting on the other side, Captain Rescue waltzed right up to the doorway and pointed his flashlight into the tunnel. Down the hall, all he could see was an illuminated mass of hairy brownness; word had spread of the prison break. The hero squealed like a little girl as that brown mass unloaded their laser rifles all at once. He dove away from the tunnel’s entrance just as a red mist whizzed past. He watched the glowing cluster scatter his bigfoot friends, certainly soiling their trousers, but leaving them otherwise unscathed. The dirt wall behind them, however, would never recover.

Captain Rescue, switching off his cowardice temporarily, leapt in front of the tunnel and pressed what he hoped was the laser rifle’s trigger. An array of red lines shot out from the rifle’s barrel and Captain Rescue watched their journey until he realized that other red lines were on their way to him. He rolled to the side just before any sizzling occurred. With a slew of hearty roars, the bigfoot fell in line and collapsed against the dirt walls with their laser rifles ready to go. Then, like a choreographed dance, Captain Rescue’s bigfoot allies leaned into the tunnel, fired off a short burst, and then ducked for cover as their allies did the same. After a few exchanges, the hero caught on to the general theme of the battle and joined in, giggling as he leaned in and out of view. This went on for roughly forty-seven minutes.

After eventually getting bored (he had actually fallen asleep for some time), Captain Rescue yelled over the laser fire, “How are we going to get out of here?”

The shaman pointed his laser-staff down the hallway.

“I figured you’d say that.”

One bigfoot shouted something in their own language and the others nodded. This lead ape waved its hand down the hallway, and his brethren fell in and prepared to advance. As Captain Rescue watched the hairy, dirty beasts prepare to enter the tunnel system, he had the sudden realization that he had been thrown headfirst into a war between the rivaling bigfoot. The hero glanced down the tunnel and briefly took in his surroundings. It was just uneven and winding enough to accommodate some sort of escape.

As Harold and his followers pushed forward, Captain Rescue decided that this was the perfect time for something rash. He would turn the tide of battle using one thing and one thing only: his heroic presence, and nothing represented that presence more than his cape. If Captain Rescue sprinted at just the right angle, it would unfurl into a blinding emblem of truth and justice. He glanced into the firefight one last time, gave a brief exhale, and then sprinted forward letting his cape unfurl in the wind. The hero weaved through the apes, and, unremarkably, found himself too distracted by his attempts at spreading truth and justice to notice he could only run at an angle for so long before something stopped him. In this case, another dirt wall, but like a true hero, he slammed into the tunnel and nonchalantly rolled into the nearest niche as lasers whizzed past.

Captain Rescue caught his breath for a moment and then peaked into the tunnel, taking a moment to count the apes on both sides of the conflict; ten versus—a lot more than ten. He smiled, just the perfect odds for a hero such as him. He could not wait to get back to the surface and tell his friends that he and a rag-tag group of rebels were able to defeat a small army—no thousands—of brainwashed bigfoot. Captain Rescue cooed like a baby at the thought, the thought of acceptance, the thought of love, the thought of heroic deeds. Before the hero finished daydreaming, a wounded soldier collapsed just next to him, bringing a weight to the situation. (Bigfoot were quite heavy.) Captain Rescue knelt down and pulled the wounded ape-man into the safety of the crevice and then leaned out and fired into the mess of brown. As one of those brown beasts fell to the ground, the hero let out a boisterous cry.

Possibly a little too excited, Captain Rescue cried “Charge!” and then jumped out of the crevice and ran down the tunnel firing wildly as his cape billowed once more. His rescuers took notice of his sudden decision to throw caution into the wind and joined in on the fun. The brainwashed bigfoot, possibly too brainwashed to realize what was going on, just stood there while the hero plowed headfirst into them. Captain Rescue led the slaughter as he and his allies tore through the enemy apes using their relatively blunt rifle barrels like bayonets. Within a few bloody moments, the tunnel’s brainwashed occupants lay in a pile. Most of them were still alive—to some extent.

With the immediate threat quelled, Captain Rescue entered the large chamber his enemy was guarding. All the hoopla he and his allies created would soon bring every ape in a fifteen-mile radius to their doorstep, but they still had a few minutes before that happened. In the meantime, Captain Rescue explored the room. Rather than focusing on the two exits and deciding which to take to mount a much-needed escape, the hero turned his attention to the many computer terminals dug into the walls. The apes must have spent their time playing futuristic dolphin video games, and this was something Captain Rescue needed to investigate.

He strolled up to one of the terminals and calmly laid his fingers upon the keyboard. The hero took a deep breath and then started typing like an ace hacker, or more precisely, a crazy person. After a few seconds of aimless button mashing, a window popped up and a spinning mesh depicting an average human male and all his two-thousand parts greeted Captain Rescue. An array of labels and descriptions sprouted out from this model as it spun. The hero squinted hard, but that did not help in deciphering the undecipherable. He pressed a slew of random keys and the model transformed into some kind of grotesque monster. As Captain Rescue stood there in absolute terror, the model grew from six feet to ten feet and its oversized arms fell low to the ground. The hero began panting heavily while he mashed random buttons on the keyboard, trying to make the scary monster go away.

“We need to press forth, friend,” the elderly shaman said to Captain Rescue before he could send this beast back to where it came.

“Good!” Captain Rescue yelped, “Let’s get out of here!” He backed away from the computer and started to meander across the cavernous room. “What’s your name anyway?”

“Harold.”

“Is that a normal name for your kind?” Captain Rescue asked with a short laugh as he tried to expunge the scary monster from his mind.

“No, but I liked the sound of it.”

The hero finally began to overcome his fears just as a flurry of footsteps made their way down one of the two tunnels.

The shaman motioned for the opposite tunnel. “We have to move.”

Their enemy entered the room just seconds after Harold led Captain Rescue and his brethren into one the tunnels. These apes briefly inspected the area and then headed after the posse with their laser rifles at the ready. As the brainwashed bigfoot entered the tunnel, they saw a hairy backside and did their best to singe it, but hit a dirt wall instead as the rebels turned a corner. This game of cat and mouse went on for a few minutes until Harold and his followers came to a hub with three diverging paths.

“Which way?” Captain Rescue asked the shaman.

He massaged his whiskers. “It’s been so long… I don’t remember.”

“Well, which one smells better?”

The shaman sniffed the air and then sniffed each individual tunnel as the approaching rumble of brainwashed apes drew closer. Harold’s nose narrowed it down to two tunnels: the middle one and the one to the right. His nose bounced back and forth between the two trying to figure out which one it preferred.

“This way.” The shaman headed down the right one.

After letting another winding tunnel lead them for some time, the group noticed a light signaling their destination. Soon, they entered a small grain-filled room that happened to be a dead end. Captain Rescue and his posse scoured the room in a state of panic, not sure what to do now that they had crammed themselves into a death trap. At least while stuck here, he and the others would have plenty of sustenance to keep them going while their enemies tracked them down and butchered them all.

“I suppose that lovely smell was the food,” Harold said as he dropped down to his knee and breathed in the vapors from one of the nearby sacks.

A panicking Captain Rescue kicked the floor. “We’re stuck in here! What if they find us?!”

“I’m rather certain we have lost our pursuers,” Harold replied as he slipped his hand into one of the sacks and removed a handful of grain.

A red laser cut into one of the sacks, spilling food all over the dirt ground.

“I would appear to have been mistaken.”

“Quick!” Captain Rescue ordered, “Empty these sacks! We can hide in them!”

“That plan is ridiculous.”
“Do you have a better one, Harold?”

“Men, empty the sacks.”

Harold’s followers gave him a suspicious look and then scratched their heads.

“Do it!” he urged, “And quick!”

The apes did as ordered and grabbed the heavy sacks, dumped their contents onto the dirt, and then climbed inside. Captain Rescue realized how ridiculous this plan was as the last ape climbed into its sack. He slapped the side of his head for dispensing such thoughts and climbed into his sack just as the search party entered. As Captain Rescue listened to the enemy bigfoot speak in their native language, he took it upon himself to translate their words in his mind.

“I could have sworn they came this way.”

“Yeah, we were sure following something down this tunnel.”

“Maybe those ghost stories are true.”

“Bob, what have I told you about that? Stop being ridiculous!”

“But we saw people come down this way! You can’t explain that!”

“Maybe we missed a door or something. Let’s get out of here and find out.”

Captain Rescue could hear footsteps approaching his sack and held his breath.

“Before we leave, we might as well get a snack.”

“Always thinking with your stomach aren’t you?”

The hero could feel hands opening the lip of his sack, so he swiftly grabbed a handful of leftover grain and held it above his head. A hairy hand reached into the sack, found his palm, gathered some grain, and then pulled it out without showing any signs of suspicion.

“Our grain reserves seem to be low; I wonder where it all went. Oh, the floor.”

“Whatever, let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah, there’s nowhere in here to hide.”

Captain Rescue could hear the footsteps fading and exhaled as he lowered his hand. The hero rose from the sack and said softly, “I’m surprised that worked.”

His bigfoot allies rose shortly thereafter and nodded in agreement.

“I guess the act of brainwashing has some adverse effects,” Harold said to Captain Rescue before adding, “Let’s press forth.”

“All right, which way?”

As the shaman pointed to the only exit out of the small room, Captain Rescue stepped forth. “I’ll take it from here.”

Captain Rescue then implored his patented way of wingin’ it. He stuck his head into the tunnel, glanced around, and after assuring himself that the brainwashed bigfoot had not lingered, he and the rebels ventured into the tunnel. Soon, they made their way back to the large room with the plethora of computer terminals. Wasting no time, the hero led the bigfoot down another tunnel, and soon wound up in the exact same storage room as before with grain still littering the floor.

“Oh.” Captain Rescue knocked the grain around with his feet. “I meant to bring us here.”

Harold the Shaman decided that Captain Rescue’s patent way of wingin’ it was not quite adequate. He pushed the spandex-suited man aside and did the one thing he could think of: he let his nose lead the way, followed shortly by his rifle-staff, which he used like a dousing rod as he held it loosely in his hands. The staff led the gang up and down winding tunnels, eventually making it to a large antechamber and proving it had a keener sense of direction than Captain Rescue. Directly across from Harold and his apes was a ramp to the sunlight-drenched surface, which spilled rays down it and into the large room. The only thing standing between them and the surface were a few dozen brainwashed bigfoot.

“Let’s blast our way through!” Captain Rescue exclaimed as he hid behind Harold and tried to appear inconspicuous.

Harold snorted. “There are a lot of them.”

“Good point.”

Before anyone could discuss just how good of a point, the spandex clad superhero and his companions drew the attention of a laser rifle wielding bigfoot. The ape’s finger shot up and called them out as he marched towards them. Under his breath, Harold instructed Captain Rescue to keep quiet. The shaman spoke with the aggressor in their language, and the hero just looked on with a smile.

“What are you doing with the prisoner?” their interrogator asked.

“Transporting him,” Harold replied authoritatively.

Unable to understand what the two were saying, Captain Rescue waved at the suspicious bigfoot with a stupid grin on his face.

“Where are you taking him?”

“He’s going to be sacrificed to the great spirits.”

“The spirits will cherish such a scrumptious offering,” the yeti said as he eyed Captain Rescue and licked his lips.

The hero did not need a translator to understand where this was headed. He assumed a most sexy pose and licked his lips, prompting Harold to knock the small of his back with the staff. Captain Rescue cringed, straightened up, and stopped trying to seduce the primate.

“Yes, as you know, all sacrifices have to be done at an altar on the surface,” Harold continued.

“Very well. Tie him up, though, so he doesn’t run.”

“Good advice,” Harold said as he whacked the back of Captain Rescue’s legs, dropping the hero to his knees.

Still unsure what everyone was talking about, the hero took the act completely wrong and shuffled towards the bigfoot. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth wide. The yeti, in return, shoved the barrel of his rifle down his throat. Harold the Shaman grabbed the hero’s shoulders and yanked him off the ground. Not wanting Captain Rescue’s eccentricities to attract any more attention, they headed straight for the ramp.

“Wait a second!” the bigfoot yelled as they started ascending, “I remember you know!”

“Run!” Harold yelled in English.

Captain Rescue was first out of the tunnel, but that did not last long at all (these primates did have large strides). As the bigfoot weaved around the hero, one of them snatched him up and tossed him over his shoulder. The hero did not know whether to feel like a damsel in distress or a child—he opted for damsel, and as a vulnerable damsel should, he whipped out his laser rifle and fired at the bigfoot closing in from behind.

“Giddy up horsey!” he cheered as he smacked the bigfoot’s ass.

As should have been expected, the bigfoot reacted adversely to Captain Rescue’s disrespectful ass slap. The burly beast dropped the less burly superhero to the ground and then looked at him sternly. The hero raised into the air like a baby wanting its father to pick him up. The baby started to bawl as its daddy ran off into the forest, leaving him to die. Surrounded by forest trees, Captain Rescue slowly pivoted in place until he could see the horde of bigfoot after them.

“Wow, I’m quite important,” he exclaimed before pivoting again, more quickly, and sprinting after the less brainwashed bigfoot.

Chapter 3: Search and Rescue; Run or Die

Charlie stood upon the thickest branch of the tallest tree and surveyed the forest around him. He had climbed up here to get a better view, and because, as far as he knew, no one had ever climbed a tree in a bunny outfit and lived to tell the tale. It would give him quite the story to tell his grandchildren, his rabbit grandchildren. Charlie looked down from the tree-lined sky and could see Freight approaching a giant brown log.

As he lifted up the fallen log and checked underneath it for the missing hero, Dr. Malevolent turned and snarled at him, “Are you just trying to get on my nerves?”

Freight dropped the log. “We must leave no stone unturned. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

“I don’t think that saying is meant to be taken literally. There are a lot of stones in this forest.”

“I choose what is taken literally,” Freight said as he wandered deeper into the forest on the hunt for more stones to turn.

Dr. Malevolent watched the giant man wander into the forest and pondered on his inevitable recruitment into her little organization, a criminal organization she refused to name in hopes of using that namelessness to instill some sense of mystique and mystery. As the corner of her mouth lifted slightly with a smile, there was a loud crack behind her. Dr. Malevolent swung around just as a blue blur crashed into the ground.

“I’m okay,” the blur said as it picked itself up off the forest floor.

“I warned you before you climbed up there, but no, you said that you had to do it.”

Charlie dusted himself off without saying a word, not that he really had the chance.

“I found something!” Freight yelled from off in the distance.

Charlie and Dr. Malevolent looked at each other and then erupted into a sprint. Trees whizzed past, and within a few seconds, they could see Freight towering over something.

“It’s a dead squirrel,” Charlie said stoically as they arrived.

“Yes, but how did it die?” Freight asked with a wild look in his eyes.

“I’ll just ask this once, ‘Did you kill the squirrel?’”

“My skills are too honed for a little critter like this. It would be a waste of my talent.”

Their voices faded away as Dr. Malevolent looked over her shoulder and intently focused on something she heard.

“Quiet!” Dr. Malevolent commanded, “I can hear something.”

“What is it?” Charlie asked.

Dr. Malevolent walked forward, passing between Freight and Charlie and stepping on the poor little squirrel’s corpse. “I don’t know, but it’s definitely familiar.” She walked forward a few more steps, dropped to her knees, and then placed her ear to the ground. “It’s coming from down here.”

Charlie dropped to his knees to do the same, but as he tried to press his ear to the ground, he realized that giant bunny heads made listening to dirt rather tricky. He just rose to his feet, playing the entire thing off and hoping nobody really noticed.

“It’s laser fire,” she said plainly, “I’d recognize it anywhere.”

Freight scratched his head. “Lasers… underground? You don’t suppose those weird apes have anything to do with this?”

“Last I checked,” Dr. Malevolent began, “those monkeys didn’t have the technology for indoor plumbing let alone lasers.”

Right beneath them, a laser shot out of the ground and traveled into the sky like a firework failing to explode. Dr. Malevolent, Charlie, and Freight all dropped to their knees and peered inside the narrow cylindrical hole left behind, bumping their heads together as they fought for space. Down the hole, dimly lit brown blobs ran across their field of vision.

“Well, I guess that answers a few questions,” Dr. Malevolent said as she lifted herself off the ground.

Freight looked up to her. “I didn’t have any questions.”

“That really doesn’t surprise me in the least. But here, let me spell it out for you. Bigfoot. Bigfoot with lasers. Bigfoot with lasers battling something or someone. Captain Rescue missing.”

Freight, remaining as nonchalant as ever, stood up, walked to Dr. Malevolent, grabbed her with one hand, and lifted her from the ground. The giant man pulled her face to his. “I didn’t have any questions and I didn’t need any answers. Do you understand?”

Dr. Malevolent nodded. Through the entire experience she could not stop thinking about how much should needed to recruit this guy, and coincidentally, those were the same thoughts to pass through Charlie’s bunny head. He loved the thought of someone in the organization that could possibly keep the tyrannical leader in check. Satisfied that Dr. Malevolent had learned her lesson in manners, Freight dropped the woman; as she hit the ground, the entire forest rumbled. Freight and Charlie both shot suspicious glances her way.

“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I ate a light lunch.”

“Well, if it wasn’t you,” Charlie started, “then…”

Another rumble reverberated through the forest.

As Freight slid Courtney out of his belt and Dr. Malevolent slid her inanimate carbon rod from its holster, the ground shook once more.

“Yeah,” Charlie continued, “this is all a little too familiar.”

The trees shook as a roar carried through the forest.

“Yeah, real familiar,” he repeated.

Dr. Malevolent glanced down at her rod and then slid it back into its holster. She patted it gently with the knowledge that it would be of little use. The snapping of twigs and cracking of branches grew closer as the intensity of the quakes increased. They looked at each other and were unsure whether to run, hide, or stand their ground. As another roar echoed through the trees, they decided that yes—they should run, but it was too late. Through the thicket of trees, a mammoth pink form strutted into the open without taking notice of trio standing below. Their longtime friend, the pink Tyrannosaurus Rex, had come for a visit. Their hearts stopped beating and then began again in unison. The dinosaur raised its snout into the air and sniffed inquisitively. Maybe these beasts could smell fear—or at least this one could, but then again, this one was pink. Its natural color, as well as logic, had been thrown out the window.

Dr. Malevolent sucked in some air, took a single step backwards, and then stepped on the one fallen twig in a hundred mile radius, causing a snap that echoed through the trees. As the super villain scrunched her shoulders together and winced, the pink head shot downward and slanted with curiosity as it searched for her. The dinosaur took a single step forward, gouging deep gashes into the dirt with its massive talons.

Off to the side, Freight looked to Courtney and then to Charlie, begging with his eyes for the go ahead to unleash a world of hurt upon this oversized pink lizard. As subtly as he could, not to draw the attention of said oversized lizard, Charlie lifted his hands up from his waist and commanded the giant man to stop. With a confused face, Freight looked back at him, and then for the first time ever, the bunny wished that his face could portray an entire range of emotions, and not just stupidly delighted. Regardless, Charlie shook his head softly from left to right, and somehow the message found its way to Freight, who now wished he could instead unleash a world of hurt upon an oversized blue bunny.

The dinosaur, however, had its own hurt ready to unleash upon Dr. Malevolent—if it could find her, which for the moment was not happening. Camouflaged badly against tree bark, the super villain stood motionless as her aggressor sniffed the air trying to pinpoint her location. When its nose proved ineffective, the dinosaur turned to the next best thing. Out rolled its tongue and it waved it through the air searching for a taste of the prey it sought. Dr. Malevolent took one look at that moist, pustule-covered tongue and began strafing around the side of the tree just as that pink hunk of love came in for a lick. She narrowly avoided the tongue as it scraped the tree bark, prompting a deep, unpleasant cough from the dinosaur as it shook its head from left to right.

As the gigantic beast shared its discomfort with everyone else, Dr. Malevolent could not help but to laugh. As any experienced adventurer knew, laughing in and around carnivorous beasts was a sure way to draw its attention. The super villain may not have been the most experienced of adventurers, but as the beast stepped around the tree and its reptilian eyes narrowed on her, she knew no good was to come. The Tyrannosaurus Rex unhinged its jaw and a most thunderous bellow emanated from the recesses of its chest. Dr. Malevolent did not know what to do. Should she run? Should she hide? Should she bulk up in order to appear more intimidating to the predator? She shook her head—that would never work. Just as the thought of taking up residence inside the stomach of a dinosaur settled, a voice called from behind the massive wall.

“Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size?!” Freight yelled.

The pink blur spun around and saw a mountain of a man standing before it, shotgun in its hands. It bent over, tiny arms dangling from its chest, and stood face to face with its aggressor as Dr. Malevolent ran to Charlie’s side. Freight, never ever one to turn down a challenge, leaned forward, pressed the tip of his nose against and the snout of the dinosaur, and growled. The dinosaur opened its mouth so Freight could see the rows of serrated ten-inch teeth.

He turned to the others. “Okay, we can run.”

Dr. Malevolent had already started, leaving her less prepared allies in the dust. She would not allow something so pink to waylay her grand schemes of world domination. The super villain glanced over her shoulder and saw Freight and Charlie closing in fast. Closing in even faster behind them was the pink Tyrannosaurus Rex, which appeared to be having some trouble navigating through the thick foliage even if its feet crushed the vast majority of it. Dr. Malevolent looked forward to make sure no trees were about to greet her head on, and then glanced over her shoulder once more. The giant pink head was failing miserably to catch the slippery pair between its teeth. They were just too quick. Freight even mocked the dinosaur as it tried to eat him, telling it that he would be able to eat the “pink freak” if he were in its shoes.

She swung her head forward just in time to see the giant tree in her path. Some fancy footwork ensued and Dr. Malevolent whizzed right around it as the bark scraped her skin. Behind her, Freight and Charlie split around the same tree, and milliseconds after that, a loud crash accompanied the dinosaur’s decision that going around the gigantic tree was too much effort.

Annoyed from the splinters now covering its snout, the dinosaur honed in and tried harder than ever to catch these mice. As the animal galloped, its peanut sized brain wondered why there had not been any of its usual prey to hunt. It had been stuck with these small, two legged things for months now—some of them quite hairy. Where were those tasty Triceratops or scrumptious Stegosauruses? And why the hell had its skin changed to this weird color? The dinosaur forced these distractions from its tiny mind and focused. It was far too stubborn to let these delectable morsels get away. Sure, there might have been much slower and much dumber prey within this expansive forest, but with each lunge they dodged, with each mammoth stride they wove around, and with each tree the dinosaur had to tear its way through, its convictions became more cemented. It was going to eat these things.

Dr. Malevolent refused to slow down. Every so often, she would glance over her shoulder to make sure that Charlie and Freight had not become dinosaur appetizers. They were safe for now, but that would not last much longer; that damn fossil had ridiculous stamina. They had to find some place out of the way to hide. She pressed herself harder while her relentless arm swinging drove her forever forward. For a moment, she considered sliding off her lab coat, but the super villain quickly did away with that ridiculous notion. Dr. Malevolent would not be Dr. Malevolent without the white lab coat. Even if it meant a prehistoric beast bit her head off. She checked to see how Freight and Charlie were doing, and when she saw that they had drifted farther away from her, she felt oddly proud of herself.

The trees began to thicken, and the excitement within Dr. Malevolent welled. They could definitely hide in here. As she vanished within the foliage, that welling excitement faded almost instantly. She had misjudged the depth of this thicket, and no sooner had the trees swallowed her had they spit the super villain right back out again—and coincidentally into the outskirts of a large clearing. Dr. Malevolent screeched to a halt and spun around, but before she could find her way back into the thicket, Charlie and Freight came flying out. They crashed directly into her and sent the three of them to the ground.

The pink Tyrannosaurus Rex burst through the trees just as they were helping each other to their feet. It hovered over them, clearly under the impression that it had won this chase. All three of them looked behind at once, trying to decide if they could possibly flee in that direction, but the towering cliff that encircled the back half of this clearing made any chances at escape unlikely. Dr. Malevolent started to dash to her left, but the dinosaur was quick to cut her off with a chuckle-like growl. She darted to her right, and the dinosaur cut her off again.

The super villain’s shoulders sank as she looked to Freight and Charlie. “I think this is the part where we get eaten.”

Just before those mammoth jaws could take a bite out of any of them, a slew of shouts fell from the cliff . Since these shouts were certainly not of a prehistoric nature, the three would-be dinosaur appetizers ran in that direction. Their retreat must have wronged the dinosaur in the worst ways imaginable, for it went into an utter rage, foaming at the mouth and spewing spit all over. As its arms dangled uselessly from its chest, it took off after the trio. By the time they closed in on the cliff side, with any luck, the Tyrannosaurus Rex would reveal its crippling fear of vertical walls or things might get rather ugly.

Once at the cliff, the trio plastered their backs against the tightly packed earth and gazed upwards hoping that the source of those shouts would soon give them some way out of this Jurassic mess. Either that or that the dinosaur would simply turn tail and run from its biggest nemesis: the cliff, but as that giant pink lizard headed for them, the beast made no signs of fleeing—or stopping, which opened up a completely new set of issues. Hopefully, its peanut-sized brain would realize any second now that it cannot lead its master headfirst into a giant wall.

Really though, these creatures ruled the planet for millions of years. If they had the inclination to ram headfirst into pure rock, they probably would not have made it that far. The dinosaur threw its mammoth foot forward, dug its talons into the ground, and forced its body to halt. With its prey right where it wanted them, the dinosaur threw its tiny little arms into the air as best it could and let out an ear-piercing shriek that conveyed just how annoying chasing after them had been. Then, those mammoth jaws came in for a bite. Dr. Malevolent, Charlie, and Freight all looked at each other and gulped.

Before any teeth could find their way into any hunks of flesh, a flurry of lasers erupted from the tree-lined cliff side. The would-be prey gazed upwards as the barrage of red lines pelted the dinosaur. It stumbled backwards, startled by these crazy lights it had never seen before. They stung, but it would take more than a few rays of light to pierce its thick hide. As more lasers shot out from the trees, the dinosaur abandoned its prey and roared at its unknown assailants.

Right on cue, Captain Rescue and his ape allies waltzed out of tree cover. While smiling as bright as can be, he fired again at the dinosaur in hopes of driving it away from his friends. At the same time, Harold the Shaman raised his rifle-staff into the air in hopes of making it rain over the dinosaur. For what purpose? He had no clue, that’s just what shaman did, make it rain. The dinosaur stumbled backwards as more lasers bombarded its thick hide, and then it whimpered, hung its head low to the ground, and admitted defeat.

The hero threw a fist up and halted the laser barrage. “Men! We have defeated this beast. There is no reason to slay it.”

Captain Rescue glanced over the cliff side; he had always had an issue with heights, but he had to find a way down there to reunite with his wonderful friends. His eyes lit up as an idea dawned on him. He pushed his cape aside and unfastened the grappling hook from his utility belt, the grappling hook just recently acquired and never used. The hero leaned over the side of the cliff, immediately became queasy, and almost fell off. He stumbled backwards and then righted himself. Captain Rescue looked first to his grappling hook, then to his bigfoot friends, and then back to the grappling hook. He nodded with a smug on his face. The grappling hook fell to the hero’s side and he fired the bouquet of black spikes straight into the ground.

He glanced once more to his bigfoot friends, ignored the worry covering their faces, and simply stepped off the cliff. After plummeting past grey rocks for a few seconds, the hero squeezed the grappling hook’s handle to slow his decent. This plan worked perfectly at first, but after a few seconds, the anchor high above simply popped out of the ground and tumbled over the cliff’s edge. The hero kept his composure for nearly a moment and then became abruptly hysterical.

The pink dinosaur, which was still recuperating from its run-in with lasers, leisurely lifted its head from the ground. Upon seeing the plummeting spandex dot, the dinosaur jumped to its feet. It let loose a sharp, quick cry and then sprinted for the cliff side as its tiny arms swung back and forth like a marathon runner with a number on its chest. Directly in the dinosaur’s path, Dr. Malevolent stood with her back still plastered against the cliff. The super villain shot a quick glance to her allies and then upwards to the falling Captain Rescue. The only decision she had time enough to make was to get the hell out of the way.

With a sharp thrust, the super villain outstretched her arms and shoved both Charlie and Freight out of the way before sprinting forward. She and the dinosaur crossed paths, and Dr. Malevolent weaved effortlessly through its feet. Free of crushing danger, she spun around and watched as the giant lizard dove forward, flipped onto its back, and threw its tiny arms into the air. The dinosaur nimbly snatched the hero’s cape within its hands and then gently set him down upon its chest. A spellbound Captain Rescue stood there as the dinosaur’s serpentine tail, which had been altered by the dolphins just for this purpose, wrapped itself around his torso and the carried him to the ground. The two creatures interlocked eyes and instantly formed a bond that would never sever, much the link bond between a hunter and his trusted hound.

Captain Rescue jumped with glee. “My very own dinosaur! I’ve always wanted one!”

“Oh great,” Dr. Malevolent started, “the damned thing chases us through the forest, but you’re able to woo its tormented heart in mere moments.”

“What can I say?! We are kindred spirits!”

“Your brains are roughly the same size.”

The dinosaur rolled onto its stomach and then rose to its feet. It growled at the super villain before stepping between her and Captain Rescue. The dinosaur wrapped its tail around the hero’s torso and lifted him onto its back.

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “Go ahead, you oversized lizard, keep him.”

The dinosaur leaned its head backwards and nuzzled Captain Rescue, and as he caressed it in return, his new friend emitted a distorted purr that resembled an elephant with a bad case of indigestion. The hero clapped at the animal’s affection, but in doing so, he lost his footing. Captain Rescue teetered for a moment and then tumbled down its back and landed face down in the dirt.

“Where did you run off to anyway?” Charlie asked as the hero as he spat dirt from his mouth.

“Oh, I was kidnapped and tortured by some brainwashed bigfoot until those guys up there rescued me,” he replied while waving to Harold as his followers, who were still on the cliff above.

“Tortured?!” Dr. Malevolent exclaimed excitedly. “How bad was it?”

Captain Rescue lifted the back of his spandex shirt to show off the stylish, thin, and oozing wounds etched across his back.

“You might want someone to tend to that,” Charlie said as he watched the blood drip down the man’s back.

“Eh, maybe later. I’m still conscious so it can’t be that bad.”

As one of Harold’s followers unfurled a rope ladder and tossed it over the cliff side, the dinosaur began growling menacingly at them. The beast did not think highly of the hairy beasts, and to quell its angered heart, Captain Rescue gently caressed its thick hide.

“We need to give you a name!” he cheered.

The dinosaur shook with excitement.

“How about ‘Ralph’?” Captain Rescue asked.

Ralph yelped with joy; he approved of the name.

“Did you really just name your dinosaur Ralph?” Dr. Malevolent snickered.

Ralph spun around and taunted Dr. Malevolent with a throaty growl. Once she got over his putrid breath, the super villain could not help but to imagine how splendid it would be to conquer the world with the help of one of these. With any luck, they came in other colors. Dr. Malevolent always hated pink. It signified everything that she worked her entire career as a super villain to denounce. Feathers would be nice though, she knew many dinosaurs came with feathers. She always had a soft spot for those Velociraptors. They were small, intelligent, and as far as she knew, a lot of them had feathers. Dr. Malevolent smiled; Velociraptors it was.

Harold slammed his rifle-staff against the ground to get everyone’s attention. “We have to do something about my brainwashed brethren. They cannot be allowed to continue.”

“We should kill them all!” Freight cheered.

“I certainly hope it does not come to that, perhaps we can break the spell that they have been put under.”

“By killing something!”

“Yes, I do suppose it will have to include killing in some way, shape, or form.”

“I’m in.”

“We must then plan our next course of action,” the shaman said as he turned to the others.

“Hey wait a second!” an annoyed Dr. Malevolent said, “I didn’t agree to helping you with anything.”

“It is your choice whether or not you lend aid, but if this spirals out of control, the world as you know it may cease to exist.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“My brethren are amassing. For what end, I do not know, but the fate or your city as well as the world is uncertain.”

Dr. Malevolent crossed her arms. “Well, I’ll admit you’ve piqued my interest, but I want to make it clear that I do not care about you or our brethren.”

Captain Rescue cheered. “The gang’s back together once more for another adventure! You don’t know how excited this makes me. I had so much fun the last time.”

The hero opened his mouth to speak once more, but before he could muster any words, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as blood loss rendered him unconscious. Dr. Malevolent shook her head and chuckled as Captain Rescue fell to the ground.

Freight, on the other hand, gasped, sprinted to his side, and yelled, “Is there a doctor in the house!?” He thought about his question for a moment and then shot a concerned glance to Dr. Malevolent.

She chuckled once more, reached into her lab coat, and withdrew a hacksaw. In the most doctor-like tone she could conjure, the super villain said, “We’re going to have to amputate… everything.”

Freight fell to his knees and threw his fists into the air. “You monsters!”

Charlie decided that everyone had gone insane, and to make sure no one amputated any of the unconscious hero’s limbs, he snatched the hacksaw from Dr. Malevolent. The super villain snarled at the bunny as Harold and his bigfoot rushed to Captain Rescue and began tending to his wounds.

Chapter 4: Putting the Special in Special Forces

The hero groaned. For a moment, he thought that perhaps those damn dirty apes kidnapped him again, but he soon realized the darkness he found himself greeting was just his face buried in a pillow. He found further evidence against kidnapping when he glanced over his shoulder to see the faces of Dr. Malevolent, Charlie, and Freight.

“What happened?” Captain Rescue asked.

“Well, you lost a lot of blood,” Charlie replied, “but our bigfoot friends coated your back in some stinky mud. They said you’d be okay.”

Captain Rescue licked his dry mouth. It felt like someone coated his back in dirt, which they had, so the feeling fit. He swung his feet over the side of the cot he’d been laid out on and looked around the cramped olive drag tent that he and his friends were alone in. A few feet away, caduceus emblazoned curtains shielded the only way in or out of the tent.

“How long was I out?” Captain Rescue asked as he tumbled from the cot and planted his feet on the dirt ground.

Charlie led the wounded hero out of the tent and into the camp. “A couple hours.”

In those two hours, the bigfoot, with help from those less harry, erected quite an impressive camp. Harold spared many apes from brainwashing and fashioned them into an army. Several platoons of rebels had formed throughout the camp, doing exercises like stabbing the air with their laser rifles. Off to the side and curled up like a puppy, Ralph had found a nice spot to call his own, and he had not eaten any self-aware organisms since his domestication, so one could say he was doing well.

Followed by his friends, Captain Rescue made his way to a command tent, where Harold and a few of his highest-ranking lieutenants awaited. The bigfoot encircled a miniature model of the surrounding forest. Captain Rescue could easily make out their base camp as well as a village nearby. Within this village was a small figurine of a brainwashed bigfoot with the head of a dolphin.

“What’s the plan?” the hero asked as he picked up the small model to inspect it and its outstanding quality more closely. The amount of detail put into the tiny work of art disturbed Captain Rescue so much that he had to set it down because it would not stop staring at him.

With a stick in his hand, one of Harold’s lieutenants pointed at the small model of their camp. “We’ve decided to send a small reconnaissance party to the enemy,” he slid the stick over to the dolphin-headed bigfoot, “to discover what it is they are up to before we plan any further.”

“Excellent! I wanna go, please let me go.”

“You are wounded, you should stay here and recuperate,” Harold argued.

“That’s boring, let me go please.”

“Well, if you insist, we certainly can’t force you to stay here.”

“I can!” Dr. Malevolent said with hacksaw in hand.

“What the…” Charlie started, “didn’t I confiscate that so you didn’t hurt anyone or yourself?”

He grabbed the hacksaw from her hands, but she just withdrew another from her lab coat. When he grabbed that one, she unsheathed her inanimate carbon rod. Charlie threw his hands up in defeat.

“So… I can go?” Captain Rescue asked while tapping his foot impatiently.

Harold the Shaman sighed. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Yippee!” He darted out of the tent and into the woods as Harold’s reconnaissance party followed close behind.

***

A rustle spread through the underbrush as a pair of white eyes emerged from within. Captain Rescue crawled out from the foliage and dusted the leaves and insects from his costume. He had taken war paint to a whole new level, a terrible level, smearing the stuff across his face without rhyme or reason. In fact, he had not even used paint. The hero just found a mound of something on the forest floor and went to town. From the smell, he assumed that it was not fecal matter.

A group of three bigfoot came down a game trail and stopped next Captain Rescue. They had followed him closely as he moved from bush to bush on some quest to be as stealthy as possible. The towering beasts strutted right through Captain Rescue and bumped him without bothering to acknowledge any inconvenience it might have caused. Not that the hero cared, as far as he was concerned, any touch from the bigfoot was a good touch, unless it was a whip’s touch. Despite all he had been through, with the kidnapping and the torture, he still idolized the legendary beasts.

Harold had given the apes implicit instructions to keep Captain Rescue from harm, so knocking the so-called hero over the head and then allowing him to make the journey back to camp alone would probably breach those instructions. On the way here, they had to rescue him from a multitude of threats, from the mountain lion, to the rattlesnake, to the poison ivy, to the deer. It was a very irritated deer.

The reconnaissance party climbed to the top of a steep hill, where they hoped to catch a glimpse of the settlement in which their brethren abandoned the old gods for new and aquatic ones. It annoyed the apes to no end, and to infuriate them further, they had to lug along this idiot. One of them glanced behind to Captain Rescue, who had to struggle to keep up with their long legs. The ape laughed and the hero just smiled back and waved, catching no wind of its condescending tone. He had been traveling with his bigfoot entourage for some time now thinking that the settlement infested with brainwashed bigfoot bent on human annihilation was still a few klicks away. Not that Captain Rescue had a clue how far a klick actually was. He had just heard the term used so many times in so many war movies that he could not resist using it now in the forest.

Gazing down from the hill’s summit, the party could see the settlement a few thousand feet below. This entire time, Captain Rescue just assumed that where the apes tortured him and the target of their reconnaissance were the same, but as he gazed at the foreboding camp, he realized that was not the case. In this settlement, many of the bigfoot had left behind their underground dwellings and migrated to the surface. Captain Rescue stared into the distance and tried his best to catch a glance of one of the fabled dolphin-headed bigfoot he saw miniaturized back at the camp. He strained and strained to see something, but despite his best and most painful efforts, the hero could not make much out from this distance. He would have to get closer to glimpse one of those wonderful amalgamations.

As if reading his thoughts, one of the bigfoot gave some hand gestures to the others, and they dropped to their knees, hugged the ground, and began their descent. Captain Rescue followed suit and fell to his hands and knees. He crawled across the ground paying little heed to the forest debris poking his stomach. The hero had made great strides in his acceptance of the forest and everything found within. While he would not have been caught dead crawling on the forest floor a few months ago, now he just continued hoping, in the back of his mind, that nothing crawled up his pant leg.

Crawling from bush to bush, Captain Rescue descended the hill in stealth mode. He hoped that not even the birds in the sky would be able to detect him, and the brainwashed bigfoot on the ground would be clueless to their presence. After an uncomfortable five minutes, Captain Rescue and his entourage made their way to the bottom. Conveniently, some ancient glacier had deposited an enormous boulder down here for them to spy behind. While they were getting into position, something rustled in the nearby bushes, and the party took advantage of the house-sized boulder and dropped to their knees to huddle behind it.

“Where are you taking us?!” a voice cried out.

Out of the trees, a group of brainwashed bigfoot emerged dragging with them a string of shackled humans. An ape, large even by their standards, led the pack. This alpha male turned to his prisoners and laughed as he yanked the chain forward, causing them to stumble and fall to the ground. While many of these apes were indistinguishable from each other, this one felt oddly familiar to Captain Rescue. He was certain that he met him six months prior in the forest. The more he pondered on it, the clearer the memories became. He had tried to strike up a conversation with the giant ape, but he was less than friendly. Now, Captain Rescue could see why. He was evil.

“Great,” one of the prisoners said, “we finally prove that bigfoot exist, and the first thing that happens is they kidnap us.”

Captain Rescue watched as the bigfoot continued their journey into the city and immediately recognized the weapons slung over the shoulders. Not too long ago, he had carved his way to the surface wielding one of these laser-spouting beauties. Every so often, a bigfoot escort would take the gun and point it at a prisoner in a most threatening fashion. The acts of cruelty sent impulses through Captain Rescue, impulses directing him to do something brash, something foolish, something heroic.

As he watched the apes manhandle the prisoners, Captain Rescue was unable to resist these urges any longer. The hero jumped to his feet, but before he could save anything, a giant hairy hand grabbed his shoulder. The hero looked up to the apes in anguish. They just pointed to formidable alpha male and then drew a line across their necks with their fingers. Captain Rescue gulped. He valued his neck quite a bit. Disappointed, he sighed, slumped down, and collapsed against the boulder.

“What are you doing? We have to save them!” the hero whispered.

“We stand no chance against that many of them, now is not the time for heroics,” one of them said.

“Wait a second… you guys can speak English?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I just now learning about this?”

“We don’t talk to just anyone, and you are not worthy.”

Captain Rescue smiled. “But I am now?”

“No.”

His smile evaporated.

“We did not want you to get us killed,” the ape added.

The hero sighed, “I have not gotten anyone killed during my entire career as a superhero. I’ve come close a few times! But no one’s ever died.” Captain Rescue pointed upwards to the top of the boulder. “Now give me a lift.”

The bigfoot looked at each other, trying to figure out what the puny little human meant by a lift. Eventually, they gave up and shrugged. Captain Rescue jumped up and down a few times without realizing that the bigfoot were just unfamiliar with certain slang and not utterly stupid. The hairy beasts looked at each other once more and then nodded. One knelt down and weaved his fingers together to give the hero something to climb. Captain Rescue placed his foot upon the organic step and began ascending the boulder in a most clumsy manner, almost falling multiple times. He was no mountain climber, but somehow he found his way to the top. Captain Rescue collapsed face down against the boulder, and then he rolled around playfully on the damp moss like a puppy.

He heard a gruff exhale and glanced over his shoulder to see his hairy friends coming to join him atop the boulder. As an arm gripped the top of the rock, the hero took the small window of opportunity to scurry to the edge. This way, when the apes made it up here, they would assume that Captain Rescue had been hard at work spying on the enemy and not rolling amongst the moss. With his ruse successful, the bigfoot came to lie down next to him and reconnaissance began. The hero, absolutely disgusted with his inability to save the prisoners, watched the group of apes take them into the village. The procession headed down a ramp, and he used all of his deductive reasoning to conclude that the prisoners were being held underground.

What awaited those poor souls down there? Captain Rescue had no clue, but he had a dream. Maybe, just maybe, once those prisoners made it underground, the bigfoot would treat them to feasts and hospitality, not whips and torture. Maybe the shackles had only been there as a method of subterfuge to surprise the prisoners. When they got down there maybe they would find a feast waiting. A scream rang out and Captain Rescue tried to rationalize it. Maybe the hospitality shocked one of the prisoners so much that she found herself unable to contain her enjoyment and screamed out. Yes, that was a much better scenario than the alternative—that the apes dragged her underground to her doom. Another scream rang out. Oh, more enjoyment, more ecstatic prisoners realizing they had not been prisoners after all.

Captain Rescue smiled and turned his attention away from the tunnel and observed the rest of the village. Nearby, the bigfoot were hard at work erecting something, and considering they were not using wood or leaves to do it, it must have been something important, something dangerous. A slew of futuristic materials sat piled next to the groundwork of this mysterious building like a life-sized LEGO project in the making. (Captain Rescue used childhood toys to understand many things in life.) It would be years before the true purpose of this building would come to fruition, but there was no mistake that the bigfoot, with the aid of a certain species of marine mammal, had a long-term plan in mind. Captain Rescue gazed at the building blocks and tried to imagine what its purpose could possibly be. He really had no idea, but knew that he would not have to worry about it for the time being and this set his mind at ease. He chuckled to himself knowing that future Captain Rescue would have to deal with the problem and not him.

The hero’s eyes shifted across the village to an entire regiment of bigfoot practicing in formation, dozens of the apes thrust their laser rifles into the air and then stomped the ground in perfect harmony. Captain Rescue could not figure out why the bigfoot would be putting on such a dance show without an audience. Then it hit him. He wished he had remembered The Rescue Digital Camera to document this wonderful find: the bigfoot had a flare for showmanship. Captain Rescue had to share this development with the others as soon as possible. It all made sense. The bigfoot had kidnapped the campers because the apes knew that no one would come to any show they put on willingly. Apes with laser rifles and synchronized dancing? People would think them mad.

Captain Rescue crawled to the back edge of the boulder, intent on getting down from here and rushing back to camp to inform the gang of his discovery. They, of course, would realize the hero’s foolishness early on. Always a fan of dramatic exits, Captain Rescue tumbled from the top of the boulder and hit the ground with a thud as his bigfoot entourage followed more gracefully thereafter. Then, the hero and his ape entourage pranced off into the forest.

***

Freight huddled alone in one of the cramped tents. In one hand, Courtney lay on her back with her butt pointed into the air. In the other, he gripped a grimy disgusting torn piece of cloth, which meant almost as much to him as the shotgun despite its modest origins. Freight had ripped the cloth from an old t-shirt, and since then he carried it around with him everywhere. Courtney told him how much she loved that little cloth, and Freight adopted it like a son.

He spat onto this adopted son and began thoroughly cleaning his beloved. He had an aching suspicion that her services would be required soon and the man wanted to be prepared. Systematically, he wiped down the weapon’s stock, flipped it over, and then cleaned the top, followed by the barrel, and finally the trigger mechanism. When finished, Courtney shined like the day they wed.

Freight felt the sun beat down on his back and he glanced over the shoulder to see Dr. Malevolent’s head poking into the tent. “What is it?” he questioned.

“Oh,” she began as she strolled into his tent, “I just thought I’d come and see what you were up to, big guy.”

Freight rose to his feet and, with his back still facing the super villain, slid Courtney underneath his belt. The giant man shoved the dirty piece of cloth into his pocket and then turned around to face Dr. Malevolent, who took one look at that glare and slunk away. She reached the curtain and then tried to find the break in it so she could break out.

“I already told you once,” Freight said with a quietly intense voice, “I have no interest in joining your little organization and I’d appreciate it if you’d,” he paused for a moment to censor himself, “go away.”

She pursed her lips. “Yeah, but you didn’t really let me state my case to its fullest.”

“What’s there to state? You want me to help you rob from the innocent.”

“A-hah!” she cheered as she threw an arm into the air. “I only rob from those who deserve it. You could say I’m kind of like a modern day Robin Hood.”

“Yeah, only you don’t rob from the rich to give to the poor. You take it all for yourself.”

“Yes, but the cost of living is much greater than it was a thousand years ago, and furthermore, it’s very expensive doing what I do.”

Freight crossed his arms. “I would imagine that trying to take over the world time and time again and… failing would be quiet costly.”

“Yes exactly, that’s why we need someone like you aboard, someone that can help us succeed.”

Freight laughed and gave a condescending smirk. “I don’t really believe your successes rest solely in my hands. From the sound of it, you just suck, and I don’t think I want to work for someone who sucks.”

Dr. Malevolent’s head fell. She could see this was not exactly going according to plan. The super villain lifted her head upwards once more to take another crack at it. In doing so, she glimpsed the shotgun tucked underneath his belt, and an idea dawned on her. “What happens when you and Courtney want to have a couple kids? How are you going to afford to send them to college, to clothe them, to feed them?”

Freight’s wicked smirk disappeared and the man actually appeared worried for once in his life. “You’re right. I have to start thinking about my future and the future of my family. If all else fails, I guess I can come work for you.”

Dr. Malevolent smiled and nodded. “Excellent, that’s all I really wanted to hear.” She walked towards the exit of the tent and added, “Now we just have to wait for idiot to get back from his little trip.”

Chapter 5: A Journey Back Wrought with the Most Unspeakable of Evils

With a pair of earbuds in his ears that led down to the MP3 player he had stashed in his utility belt, Captain Rescue shook his head to the music. He had not looked down from the sky in well over fifteen minutes, and despite this, he stayed his course, oblivious to anything that might have been obstructing his path. After a few minutes of bumping into trees and then finding his way around them, a bright flash of light distracted Captain Rescue from both his music and the sky.

His eyes shot down to where the bigfoot had unabashedly opened fire on a tree, singeing its bark and sending smoke into the sky. He turned around and questioned the apes with his eyes, but not in the way a normal human being would. Captain Rescue had enough trouble conveying emotions with words, so doing it with his eyes instead was entirely out of the question. His eyebrows appeared as if they had gone into cardiac arrest and his eyes went back and forth between squinting and positions that did not have a name. The bigfoot pointed their laser rifles at him, evoking wet pants, and then they just motioned behind the hero.

Captain Rescue spun around and there it was, waiting for him. It must have tracked him; it must have followed him. His face went white. He thought that he was safe, that he had lost it, but there it stood trembling with its legs spread close to the ground: the irritated deer. He took a step back and the small deer advanced. It could not have been much older than a fawn, but its animosity knew no quarter. Frothing from the mouth, growling, and with a psychotic look in its eyes, the deer had decided that it would be the end of Captain Rescue, and he had never seen anything so frightening.

Trying not to take his eyes off the deer, Captain Rescue shot a glance to his entourage for assistance, but they offered only laughter in return. The apes might have been given instructions to keep him from harm, but what harm could a deer ever do? This left the hero fending off the pint-sized monstrosity on his own. Captain Rescue tried his luck waving at the fawn, hoping to curb its rabid heart. It just barked at him, which was something he felt certain normal deer did not do. He took a step back and then another. For every step the hero took, the fawn took three as it taunted him, as it played with its food.

“Please little guy, I don’t want to have to hurt you,” Captain Rescue begged the fawn.

The trembling deer just continued advancing towards the hero while foam fell from its mouth in globs. As Captain Rescue threw up his dukes, the deer accepted his challenge and began sprinting for him, leaving a contrail of frothing saliva hovering in its path. It launched itself into the air as its thin tiny legs spread wide and its head shook intensely. Just as the fawn was about to crash head first into Captain Rescue, he dropped to his knees and covered his head while screaming like a baby. The deer flew right over him, hit the tree, and then just fell to the ground.

Captain Rescue gradually uncovered his hands from his head and then looked at the motionless deer. He immediately felt deep pity for the creature as the frothing brew filling its mouth leaked onto the ground. He crawled over to it and placed his hand gently upon its neck, caressing it softly. His hand traveled upwards and he patted its forehead while looking down at its closed eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” he cried out as tears welled in his eyes.

As he pulled the unsanitary creature close to him and embraced it, Captain Rescue rocked back and forth squeezing the tiny deer. Soon, he could feel a faint pulse within its fragile body. Alleviation filled the hero’s heart with the realization that it had not died. His head fell and Captain Rescue noticed that the creature’s eyes staring up at him. They gazed at each other for a moment, and then the deer opened its mouth and almost immediately lunged for the hero’s throat. With his right hand, he shoved the snout to the side and then curled that hand into a fist and proceeded to punch the fawn relentlessly in hopes of rendering it unconscious, or dead, or both. He really did not care; his survival instincts had taken over. Captain Rescue released the deer and it fell to the ground. He rose to his feet and looked to the entourage of apes.

“Okay,” he said with a deep exhale, “let’s get out of here.”

The hero headed into the trees, refusing to look back at the deer as it lay there. It was finally over; the beast would trouble him no longer. He could finally be free, but if he had bothered looking back, just once, he would have noticed its eyes staring intently back at him from afar. It had only begun.

***

The thing about Tyrannosaurus Rexes living in a modern world was that they were hard to hide. That was why, as Captain Rescue saw that giant pink head protruding through the tree canopy, he and his bigfoot posse knew that they would soon be safe back at camp. Where no beasts like the irritated deer would be able to find him, and if it did, Ralph would surely eat it. With the knowledge that the safety of friends resided just ahead, Captain Rescue burst into sprint, letting his arms flail gleefully through the air as the apes just looked on in exasperation.

Ignoring the path cut through the trees just to his right, Captain Rescue rushed into the thick foliage that surrounded their camp, and the plethora of branches soon had its way with him. A few moments after it began, the battle concluded, and he rushed into the camp with an infinite amount of twigs and leaves coating him, but it was all worth it. With Captain Rescue’s return so flamboyantly announced, Ralph leapt to his feet. From opposite ends of the open field, the two ran towards each other to embrace as only lovers could. Curiously, Ralph made no signs of slowing, and neither did Captain Rescue for that matter. Just before the dinosaur squashed the tiny human like a bug, he simply galloped over him. Then, like a confused dog, Ralph stopped and looked around, trying to figure out where his master had gone. The dinosaur looked down at the ground and tilted its head inquisitively as he tried to figure it all out.

Captain Rescue whistled and his trusty hound leapt into the air, spun around, and then slammed back down onto the ground. The impact sent a shockwave across the field that knocked over tents and sent his master onto his back. Captain Rescue jumped to his feet unbothered by Ralph’s rumbustiousness and happy to have something in his life that loved him unconditionally other than his deceased mother. He bent over and slapped his thighs, beckoning the dinosaur to him. Ralph threw his head into the air, let out a playful roar, and then stomped the few steps between him and the hero. Once there, the dinosaur lowered its snout and nuzzled the hero affectionately, throwing him to the ground once more.

By now, the two star-crossed lovers had attracted the attention of everyone in the camp. Dr. Malevolent, Freight, and Charlie approached the hero and his mutt with cross faces.

“Well, I see you made it back in one piece,” Dr. Malevolent said. “Oh happy day.”

Captain Rescue had more pressing concerns than the snide super villain. Notably, Ralph’s pustule covered tongue, which had come in for a lick. As much as Captain Rescue loved his mutt, that tongue was not something he wanted touching any part of him. It disgusted the hero more than anything he could imagine. The tongue closed in, and at the last second, Captain Rescue rolled to his side and gave Ralph a mouthful of grass. The hero patted his pet’s cheek as he jumped to his feet.

He turned to face Dr. Malevolent and finally answered her, “Yes, yes, I’m back in one piece, and I bring news.”

“Well, let’s head back to Harold and the other apes.”

The gang left Ralph to play in the dirt by himself as they headed towards the command tent. After a few seconds, the dinosaur’s head shot up and he glanced around before realizing everyone had abandoned him. Disappointed, his head then slumped down, but after a few seconds, the lizard forgot the others even existed and found some scrumptious grass to lick. In about the same amount of time it took Ralph to strip the grass from the ground, the gang stood before Harold and the other members of the reconnaissance party.

“So, what did you learn?” Dr. Malevolent asked, expecting something ridiculous.

Captain Rescue proved her right. “The bigfoot like to put on shows. In fact, we saw them practicing one. They were all grouped together, dancing in formation and waving their guns around.”

Dr. Malevolent coughed, choking on air, and then just laughed. “You fool, it’s highly doubtful that the bigfoot were working on their big dance number.”

Freight cracked his knuckles and smiled. “They were preparing for war!”

Harold nodded. “They’re planning something big.”

Captain Rescue’s face went white. “So those people I saw being led underground were actually in trouble?”

Dr. Malevolent gave a disinterested nod. “Most likely, yes.”

“Oh,” he said solemnly as his heart sank. Captain Rescue started to back out of the tent in defeat.

“Wait a second, where are you going?”

“Oh… uh… We’re not done here?”

“No, of course we’re not done.”

Confused, Captain Rescue just looked at her.

“Oh you’re helpless.” She turned to Harold. “Can’t believe I’m turning to you for information, but what did your men learn?”

Harold, stricken with a sudden case of senile ape syndrome, looked around and tried to remember where he was and what he was doing. Then, his eyes went wide as the puzzle pieces came together. “My brethren are planning an attack. We don’t know who, when, or where, but a great catastrophe is inbound.”

“Yeah!” Captain Rescue piped up, “they were building something.”

“Oh, now you decide to be helpful. What, pray tell, are they building?”

The hero fell to his knees and placed his hands together in prayer.

“That’s not what ‘pray tell’ means at all.”

“What? Why use the word pray if you don’t want someone to pray.”

“It comes from the archaic meaning of pray, which basically means ‘to implore’.”

Captain Rescue stared back at her with an expressionless face.

Dr. Malevolent clenched her fists in frustration. “Just tell us about this building you saw and try not to sound too retarded.”

The hero jumped to his feet, taking her instructions not to sound retarded backwards. He grabbed her lapel and pulled her close to him. With an ample amount of spit accompanying his words, Captain Rescue yelled, “It’s going to be huge! It looks like something out of a science fiction movie! We have to do something!”

Proving that super villainy had its strengths, Dr. Malevolent grabbed both of the hero’s wrists, turned them inward, and instantly dropped him to his knees. He gazed upwards in pain, but he was still happy due to the view. She gazed down at the stupid grin on Captain Rescue’s face, and with a disgusted sound emanating from her throat, the super villain released the hero. He tipped over backwards and lay there smiling on the grass.

She turned her attention towards Harold. “What do you know about this building they’re making?”

“I’m a shaman, not an engineer.”

She nodded. “And your engineers wouldn’t know how to build anything with materials other than dirt and leaves.”

Freight just grumbled as their conversation melted away. All around the mammoth man talkers talked and he did little to catch what they were saying. Tiny tidbits filled his ears, tidbits about protecting themselves, keeping an eye on the enemy, training for war—all these tidbits and nothing about kicking their asses. Freight just wished they would shut their mouths and move forward with whatever plan they had in mind, if any. He hated nothing more than standing around talking things over. Freight was a man of action. If he could, he would waltz out of this tent and through the forest, where he would single handedly snuff the bigfoot from existence.

Suddenly and without warning, Freight could no longer hear these tidbits over the sound of a foghorn. The others ceased their incorrigible mouth moving and looked at each other with concerned faces, and within a few seconds, silent shouting ensued, drowned out by the noise. The foghorn led them out of the tent and into the camp as the gang tried to locate the source. All around, the apes ceased their training and congregated along the forest’s edge, and Ralph, certainly not a fan of loud noises, stuck his snout high into the air and roared at the sun. It just stared back down at the dinosaur and refused to shut off its foghorn. Ralph eventually gave up and hung his head in shame, where he found additional delightful grass to lick.

Freight glanced towards the tree-lined cliff side, where he soon noticed a slight glimmer, a reflection. The longer he stared, the more movement and activity he could see. The giant man slapped Dr. Malevolent and Charlie and then pointed at the trees. He left Captain Rescue to his own devices, which were surely malfunctioning by this point. The commotion along the cliff side soon drew everyone’s attention, and the entire camp became an agitated anthill, stepped on by some gigantic, invisible child. Captain Rescue lay flat against the grass, taking the metaphor a little too literally and hoping that when the bigfoot came to murder them all, they would assume that the hero was already dead.

One by one, bigfoot emerged from the trees and lined the cliff side, encircling the rebels and leaving them little room for escape, not that scaling a sheer cliff would be the best method of escape. Somehow, their enemy had launched an assault in mere hours. Freight couldn’t really wrap his mind around how quickly they did this, but he sure was impressed. These apes were either organized, fast, and quite badass, or something more peculiar was afoot, something transcending time and space. Perhaps these bigfoot had help from an otherworldly source, such as super-intelligent dolphins from the distant future.

The foghorn finally ceased and so did the subtle movement of brainwashed feet amongst the trees. Soon thereafter, something large emerged from within, the alpha male bigfoot Captain Rescue saw dragging a group of prisoners into the settlement. While many of the other apes adorned their signature loincloths, the alpha’s masters allowed him to adorn a more intimidating ensemble. The bigfoot wore a dark black jumpsuit with silver plates of armor covering all of his important bits. Uncovered, however, was his carpeted chest hair, which a part down the middle of his shirt revealed. His dolphin overlords modeled the armor straight out of the many science fiction movies they researched while planning the brainwashing and subsequent occupation of the human race.

The weapon mounted on his shoulder dwarfed even him; a futuristic rocket launcher held in both hands. From within the silver monstrosity, an unknown projectile peaked out. An emitter embedded into the side of the launcher displayed a virtual targeting system that showed all relevant information. Right now, without a target, it just read target something so you can kill it. The alpha stared down at his enemies with a wide smirk across his face. He waved his mammoth rocket launcher across the battlefield, over the bigfoot, over the heroes, and over Captain Rescue playing possum in the grass. Finally, the giant weapon pointed directly at its target, not the bigfoot, not the heroes, not even Captain Rescue, but on Ralph, the only real threat against him and his brainwashed horde.

A series of beeps began and grew faster and faster as the rocket launcher locked on its target. Clueless to what this alpha ape had in store for him, Ralph was busy roaring at the sun. The weapon finished its locking sequence and the bigfoot pressed the fire button, which released a projectile that whizzed through the air. Everyone dropped to their hands and knees, expecting this to be an explosion for the record books. Soon, the tip of the intimidating rocket opened and a long thing metallic spike slid out.

Ralph realized that the sun was not his main concern and that a dangerous projectile screamed towards him just as the metal spike pierced the thick hide above his shoulder. His snout shot towards the tree line and he started to roar, but the sound did not make it far. The giant dinosaur had already begun to teeter and lose his balance. He opened his mouth to roar once more, but before anything could happen, Ralph’s legs gave out from under him. The dinosaur crashed onto its stomach before losing consciousness and beginning to snore. The alpha bigfoot lowered the oversized tranquilizer and the battle began.

Chapter 6: Possum Perspective

Captain Rescue heard yelling from every direction, but he refused to look up from the grass. For all he knew, his friends were dying one by one, but the hero wasn’t sure he cared. He had larger concerns, namely the few hundred apes that were intent on killing him any way they could. Wavering from his possum plan now would be most foolish. So instead, he just crammed his face further into the dirt as grass filled his mouth. With any luck, this would muffle his whimpers and cries as lasers flew overhead. Captain Rescue stayed perfectly still for a few minutes until he heard footsteps crushing the nearby grass.

“Do you plan to help us out?” a familiar voice asked.

“No,” Captain Rescue replied to Charlie, his words muffled by the grass filling his mouth, “I’m fine down here, thanks.” The hero felt a foot knock his side, but it caused little pain. Those plush shoes were not made for kicking, that’s for sure. After a few seconds without a verbal reply from the bunny rabbit, Captain Rescue added, “So… how goes it?”

“I don’t exactly have time to carry on a conversation right now, what with all these monkeys trying to kill me.”

“Actually, they’re apes if anything. Like you, me, and the gorillas!” Captain Rescue corrected.

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“Evidently not!”

“I just meant monkeys as an insult, like when people call you idiot.”

“Oh, I get it.”

Charlie kicked him once more. “Now shut up, I’ve got work to do.”

Captain Rescue did as the bunny asked and shut his mouth. He then opened it, let the grass out, and closed it once more. He listened for some time—to Charlie, to lasers, to monkeys, and after five or so minutes of absolute boredom, Captain Rescue opened one eye and looked around at the world outside. The hero, while certainly no math genius, could tell they were outnumbered as these monkeys swarmed in from every direction his one eye could see.

All around, hordes of scantily clad sides of meat fell fighting for what they believed in—that death outweighed being brainwashed by dolphins, and most intelligent creatures would agree. Captain Rescue watched Charlie briefly and began to wonder why none of these apes had shot him dead yet. One would think that a bright blue bunny rabbit would make for an easy target, but apparently, this was not the case. If Captain Rescue was sharp, he might have considered that the brainwashed apes had orders to take him and his friends alive, but Captain Rescue wasn’t sharp, so this insight was lost on him.

The hero freed his mind of thoughts he likely never had in the first place and searched the fray for Freight and Dr. Malevolent. He soon found the two standing side by side. At first, Captain Rescue assumed they had spent the battle bonding while he spent it possuming, but it was not long before the hero learned the truth. Freight, who was clearly not enjoying himself, was trying to slink away from the super villain. She, in return, made escape exceedingly difficult by following him around like a lost puppy.

Captain Rescue turned his attention away from the pair just as a bigfoot leapt for the bunny and went in for the kill. Charlie grabbed the ape and flung it to the ground before gutting it like an animal. The possum tried his best not to vomit from the grotesque mess. Captain Rescue had not seen anything so frightening since, well, the zombies, but they were already dead and already quite disgusting. So, by the time he and his friends got around to bashing their skulls in, zombies lost a lot of the disgusting charm to be found in the deaths of the much livelier apes.

After using his tongue to clean his vomit-lined mouth, Captain Rescue glanced at Ralph, who still slept comfortably drooling over the grass. As his dinosaur’s slumbering got to him, the hero started to whistle with boredom before making farting noises with his mouth. He had no idea that battles could last this long, and in an attempt to alleviate his boredom, Captain Rescue cupped his hands over his ears and started to open and close them rhythmically, creating an entertaining reverb. His ear echoes ended abruptly as an ape’s corpse fell on top of him. Its head landed right next to Captain Rescue’s and its dead eyes stared into his living ones. As the blood began to soak him, the hero gagged and screamed like a scared child.

Charlie, who still stood over the hero, asked him, “You okay down there?”

“Do I look okay!?” Captain Rescue replied.

“You look… uncomfortable.”

“Well, get it off me!” the hero squealed.

Charlie laughed and knocked the hairy ape from Captain Rescue with one of his plush boots. As the bunny went back to killing, he saw a red laser just narrowly miss his head. Then, the unthinkable happened. Like a feather lost on the wind, Charlie’s plush ear floated slowly to the ground, making the battle all around simply fade away. He watched in great sorrow as the ear fell to the ground and kicked up dust as it settled. Choking back tears, Charlie picked up the severed ear and slid it into his pocket in hopes of reattaching it later—if he survived. Now, nothing was certain. Not life, not death, not even the sanctity of plush ears.

The bunny looked up from the ground and found a most unpleasant sight: the snarling face of a brainwashed bigfoot as it tackled him. The battlefield suddenly flipped to its side and Charlie crashed to the ground. He caught a short glimpse of the motionless Captain Rescue before an oversized hairy hand quite literally smashed his face in, denting the pliable plastic and sending his head ringing. As he felt a follow up slam into his side, Charlie jerked his knee into the ape’s groin. The bigfoot’s head lurched forward and instinctively the bunny went to head butt him. As his soft head bounced off the ape’s thick cranium, Charlie realized just how stupid he was to head butt anything. Another fist connected with his side, sending pain through his stomach.

Then, out of nowhere, a purple blur smashed into the brainwashed bigfoot and knocked it from Charlie. He then watched as Captain Rescue wailed on the ape with his leather-clad fists. The hero took his eyes off the monkey for a moment, glanced over his shoulder to Charlie, and smiled widely. The hero grabbed the tuft of hair covering the bigfoot’s chest and lifted the ape from the ground. Captain Rescue spit into the brainwashed cretin’s eyes and then threw it to the ground. The man dusted his hands of the primitive beast and rose to his feet a hero. He strutted over to Charlie as his cape billowed in the wind and laser fire streaked past, and then he extended his hand to the bunny rabbit, locked their hands together, and pulled his friend to his feet.

Captain Rescue gave a satisfactory nod before switching his heroic side right back off again. The arrogant smirk he wore melted away to lunacy and the slight double chin he had tucked away to form his chiseled jaw fell back out. Subconsciously, he must have known that if he left his heroism on for too long, the very real possibility of getting himself killed would arise in some way, shape, or form.

The hero’s eyes grew wide and he grabbed Charlie’s shoulders. “We’ve got to get out of here before we’re killed!” Captain Rescue released the bunny, fell to the ground once more, and then buried his face in the grass.

Right on cue, Dr. Malevolent and Freight screeched to a halt before them. She still gleamed with feminine beauty and showed no signs of the last two hours spent fighting for dear life and for the opportunity to conquer the world once again, or at least—the opportunity to try. On the other hand, Freight must have spent the last thirty minutes in a much different manner, for now blood drenched him from head to toe. Charlie glanced to the pristine super villain and then stared at Freight, who just gave a clueless shrug. The giant man didn’t have a clue how to explain his appearance. The sight evoked memories of their first meeting with him, only now he wore a lumberjack outfit and not a police uniform, which, oddly enough, suited him more anyway.

Captain Rescue lifted his head from the grass and cried out, “We’ve got to retreat, retreat I say!”

“Retreat?!” Freight replied with a hearty laugh, “Look around, little man. There is no retreat!”

Captain Rescue looked around, and sure enough, he had spent too much time with his face buried in the grass to realize that this battle was already lost. Tears filled his eyes as he thought of the poor prisoners he just failed and would soon have to meet. Before Captain Rescue finished contemplating on that, he felt a sharp pain strike his side. Someone had kicked him, and while he refused to look up from the ground, judging by the size and general shape of the weapon used, he recognized it instantly as Dr. Malevolent’s foot. This was, after all, not the first time she had kicked him.

“Leave me alone! We are done for!” Captain Rescue cried from the ground.

She sighed. “Nothing is ever done. What kind of pathetic hero are you? Do you know why we fall, idiot? We fall so that we might…”

“This isn’t a movie!” he wailed, “Save your motivational speeches! We are dead, we are all dead!”

He finally lifted his head from the ground and looked to the brainwashed bigfoot closing in from every direction. Captain Rescue then glanced at their ape allies, who were gradually collapsing to where the heroes were. Heroes who, for the record, were just standing around staring at each other rather than helping to repel the enemy.

“See.” Captain Rescue motioned to the hordes of brainwashed apes encroaching on their limited territory. “We’re all dead!” He buried his hands in the grass once more and got back to weeping like a child.

Charlie surveyed the corpse littered battlefield and shouted to the others, “Seems like they want us alive!”

Dr. Malevolent laughed a hearty super villain laugh. “What gives you that idea? The mountain of corpses surrounding us?”

“Well, yeah, and the fact we’re not among them. They could have easily killed us by now.”

Their conversation amplified Captain Rescue’s weeping as he considered what would happen to them if the apes took them alive—no doubt more torture. He brought himself some temporarily relief as he remembered that his back had little space left for whipping, but that relief left just as quickly when it realized he had other more important parts left to whip. He collected his composure, dumped it out on the grass, and then went back to playing dead. It was his only way out of this mess.

Harold emerged from the corpse-littered battlefield and stopped before the heroes. Blood speckled every inch of his rifle-staff, and he had a wild, battle-hardened look in his eyes. That old fart still had a few years left in him.

“It would appear that things have gotten rather dire,” he stated plainly.

“Dire?” Dr. Malevolent joked as she kicked one of the hairy corpses at her feet. “That’s a slight understatement, wouldn’t you say?”

Like a sun to their solar system, Captain Rescue lay face down in the grass with his fellow humans and Harold orbiting him. The shaman’s followers closed in and protected the important people while they made their last stand, a last stand that would not last too long. One by one, the rebels fell to laser fire, a fate much better than being brainwashed into servitude. When the last of Harold’s followers died, a single foghorn trumpeted across the battlefield, and the brainwashed bigfoot ceased their assault and encircled those who remained.

Everyone accepted their defeat by dropping their weapons to the ground and throwing their hands into the air. Freight, however, did not live by such constricting rules. No battle was lost while he still drew breath. The man would give every one of these mangy monkeys a taste of Courtney’s medicine. With an animalistic roar, Freight sprinted into the thick of hair and went to town. When Courtney finally ran out of ammunition, the giant man turned to picking up the nearest lifeless corpses and flinging them at the enemy. It took four of the bigfoot to subdue the crazed man and force him to his knees.

Still on the cliff and out of harm’s way, the alpha ape grabbed one of the ropes and slid down, letting his thick calloused palms prevent his hands from splitting open and showering blood all over himself. He met the ground with a booming crash, leaving a subtle crater in his wake. Immediately, his army of brainwashed bigfoot parted and gave him a direct path to the prisoners. Three of the apes forced Freight to kneel, and to his knowledge, he had never kneeled for anyone or anything before. The prideful man watched the leader ape strut down the path created for him by his men. He ignored the corpses under his feet and stepped on them as if they did not exist. The ape soon stood with its waist against Freight’s face, and then the beast knelt down to look the feisty man in the eye. The alpha picked up Courtney from the ground and rolled her over in his hands, inspecting her handiwork closely.

Freight had a thing or two against someone manhandling his wife and spoke up to prove it, “Don’t you touch her! I will kill you!”

The alpha just laughed and shook his hairy head, then smacked Freight across the face with his own shotgun.

Freight easily shook it off and yelled back, “Is that all you’ve got?!”

The alpha laughed once more and then turned the shotgun vertically and slammed its stock down on Freight’s head. He went limp immediately, but it would take a lot more than that to kill him. He tossed the shotgun to one of his underlings and then motioned to the other prisoners.

“Tie them up,” the alpha said.

The apes bound Harold’s, Dr. Malevolent’s, and Charlie’s hands and feet together and lined them up behind Freight’s unconscious mound of a body. Captain Rescue, in possum form, was still motionless off to the side. Their leader gave a sharp whistle and a pair of bigfoot that carried a long metal pole emerged from the crowd. They marched up to the alpha and saluted with respect while holding the pole perfectly steady. Their leader pointed first at the bound heroes, then to the pole, and then nodded with a wicked smirk across his face. His underlings scurried over to their prisoners and began tying them to the pole like trophy game from a big hunt. The alpha whistled once more and another pair of underlings ran up to the pole, lifted it, and all four placed it upon their shoulders, leaving everyone but Captain Rescue dangling. He was still lying face down in the grass waiting for the perfect opportunity to leap up and rescue everyone, an opportunity that would probably never see the light of day.

The pole bearers started to exit the battlefield, but the alpha ape stepped in their path and eyed them down. His underlings looked to their leader without a clue what he meant. He crossed his arms, stared at his men, and then motioned with his head for Captain Rescue. The brainwashed bigfoot just stared back at their master under the assumption that the hero was dead. The alpha rolled his eyes in annoyance and then marched over to the possum.

“Ouch!” Captain Rescue yelped as the bigfoot kicked him in the side. He jumped to his feet and threw up his fists. “You wanna go?” he taunted the alpha, “I’ll go!”

The bigfoot just stood there with his arms crossed and an expressionless look across his face.

“Okay, if that’s how you wanna play it!” Captain Rescue shouted and he tossed a punch. His fist slammed against the armor covering the ape’s chest with a thud, and the hero yanked his hand back and shook the pain away.

“Would you cut it out already?” Dr. Malevolent shouted as she hung from the pole. “Just let them tie you up so we can get moving.”

The alpha nodded in agreement.

“No, you’ll never take me!”

The alpha shrugged and threw a single punch, and Captain Rescue dropped like a rock. Then, his men scurried up to the unconscious hero, tied him up, strung him from the pole, and then headed off for the settlement, where these prisoners would be promptly executed.

Chapter 7: The Final Hours of the Condemned

“You better let us out of here and give me back my wife, or by God, you damn dirty apes will be sorry!” Freight yelled as he slammed his fists against the sturdy metal bars of their prison cell.

Behind him, laid out upon a bench and still unconscious from his boxing match with the alpha bigfoot, Captain Rescue groaned. Freight’s thrashing had finally awoken sleeping beauty. The hero opened one eye and tried to recollect the shenanigans that brought him here. As he swung his legs over the edge of the bench, his brain pieced together the memories. It all came rushing back to him: the battle, the defeat, being knocked out. Then Captain Rescue could remember awakening for a moment dangling from that pole as the bigfoot carried him and his friends through the forest. He had to admit the hanging sensation felt rather enjoyable the brief moment he could revel in it.

Captain Rescue sat up, pushed himself forward, and then fell to his feet. He straightened his back and stretched as his eyes gradually adjusted to his surroundings. When he realized those surroundings were a deep dank hole, he did a quick systems check to assure that he had not been recently whipped or tortured in any way. While no doctor, all his bits felt like they were in proper order; save his pants, which sat loosely upon his waist. He looked down and gasped at his missing utility belt.

“Oh, look who’s finally awake,” Dr. Malevolent teased after noticing the upright and conscious hero.

Captain Rescue opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was unintelligible gibberish. As it turned out, his brain was slow to boot and establishing vocal functions came last. Dr. Malevolent rose from the corner she had called her own for the past couple hours, stared back the invalid, and tried to decide if the whole experience was another fabrication meant to annoy.

Finally, with his brain almost at full capacity, Captain Rescue just slid his tongue from his mouth and blew at Dr. Malevolent. She turned her head away from him, questioning why she even tried interacting with the idiot in the first place. Captain Rescue then focused on their bigfoot allies, who were grooming each other as apes should while they sat huddled in the corner of the room. As Harold sat facing the wall, the two apes directly behind him sifted through his fur with their thick fingers. Occasionally, one of them would pick something from the matted ape hair and then toss it into his mouth. Captain Rescue considered joining in until he remembered that instead of hair, dirt and ghastly wounds covered his back.

As the hero approached the cell’s entrance, he kept as much distance from Freight as possible as he banged on the bars. Captain Rescue glanced into the adjacent hallway. It looked like their only method of escape, unless they wanted to dig their way out, which was certainly a possibility since their prison cell had an overabundance of dirt. He watched the slew of hairy apes patrol up and down the hallway, and then he waved at the ones guarding the cell doors. With any luck, Captain Rescue could initiate some kind of dialog and convince them, with the help of his crime fighting expertise, to free his friends and him.

“Hey, come here!” he said to one of the apes.

The bigfoot just slammed their fists against the cell and yelled something in their native tongue. He scoffed at them and backed away. In an attempt to come up with some scheme to get them out of here, Captain Rescue started to scratch his head, and then the scratching soon carried to his ear, where he slid his finger inside and rooted around. Soon thereafter, an idea suddenly hit him, and Captain Rescue ran over to Harold.

“You talk to your spirits all the time, right?” he asked the shaman.

“Yes, I commune with them regularly.”

“Can’t you get them to let us out of here? To help us somehow?”

“It’s not that simple, the spirits do not lend aid that easily, circumstances have to be of the utmost severity.”

“Utmost severity? We’re trapped in a prison cell about to be executed… or worse, eaten!”

“We bigfoot do not eat humans, and if the spirits felt we were in any sort of danger, they would have saved us by now.”

“Your spirits are useless!” Captain Rescue growled as he slammed his foot against the ground in frustration. “I’ll find a way to get us out of here, a way that doesn’t include your spirits!”

“Oh,” Dr. Malevolent laughed, “and just what might your great plan be?”

Captain Rescue glanced to the guards outside the cell and then turned to the others. “In a moment, I will collapse and pretend to convulse, the guards will rush in to see what’s up, and then we will overpower them!”

Charlie, who had spent the last few hours fixing the spots where apes had smashed in his soft plastic head, spoke up, “I have a better idea.” He lifted the bunny head, inspected it one last time, and then shoved it onto his shoulders regardless of the fact it was still missing an ear.

“I’m all ears!” the hero replied enthusiastically.

The bunny rabbit sighed at first, jealous that the hero was all ears while he was just one, but then Charlie smiled and opened his stomach-bound pouch and dug around. After a few seconds, out came a large light bulb in black casing. He pointed the strobe light at Captain Rescue, who could not figure out, for the life of him, what exactly was going on. Charlie flipped it on and almost instantly, the hero fell to the ground twitching uncontrollably.

“Guards!” Charlie called.

The nearest guard ignored him while Captain Rescue continued to twitch.

“Guards!” he repeated.

With a throaty grumble, the brainwashed bigfoot approached the cage. He took one look at Charlie and the twitching hero and then shrugged his shoulders without saying a word.

“But he’s in dire need of assistance! Shouldn’t you open the cell to check on him?”

The hairy primate grunted, “No.”

“Your superiors won’t be upset if you let a prisoner twitch to death?”

“No, since you will all be dead soon enough.”

Freight shook the metal bars. “Damn you dirty apes, damn you all to hell!”

The bigfoot went back to their posts, leaving behind the heroes and their twitching ally. The plan a bust, Charlie and the others went to go sit along the far wall, leaving Captain Rescue right where they left him. With any luck, he would not need medical attention and the twitching would stop on its own eventually.

“So,” Charlie asked from inside the cage, “how long until you execute us all?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Well, at least the service here is speedy.”

***

“Do your worst to me, I dare you!” Captain Rescue screamed with his stomach pressed against the bars as a slew footsteps crept up the tunnel. “If you even try to string me from a tree of any sort, I will murder each and every one of your with a toothpick! A toothpick I say!”

“Would you cool it, you fool,” Dr. Malevolent growled from the back of the cell. The others were taking to their oncoming execution in stride.

“Why are you acting so calm!?” Captain Rescue shrieked as he slammed his fists against the cell door. “They’re going to kill us!”

“I doubt it.”

“What, how could you have any doubt about this?!”

“I’ve been in situations like this before, we all have, at the last second something will happen. We’ll be fine.”

“I’ve never been in a situation like this before!”

“Yes you were. Just the other week when I strung you over a pool of ravenous dolphins and you didn’t die.”

Captain Rescue thought about that fateful night. “I wish I had.”

“That’s not the point. The point is you didn’t.”

Their discussion ceased as a group of five bigfoot stopped in front of the cage. One of them pointed a laser rifle at Captain Rescue and waved him away from the door. The hero stumbled backwards as his captors opened the cage and stepped inside, holding the heroes at laserpoint. Freight, who did not like having anything pointed at him, made his move. With the help of his forearm, one of the rifles flew out of a guard’s hand, and in one fluid motion, Freight snatched it out of the air as it tumbled, lifted he gun, and opened fire on one of the apes, turning its chest bright red. Before he had the chance to singe any additional flesh, the butt of another laser rifle found its way to the back of his head. Fright collapsed like a string-severed marionette.

Dr. Malevolent grunted. “But the fool had only just woken up. If you keep knocking him out like that, he’s going to develop brain damage.”

“What about me?!” Captain Rescue cried out, “What about my brain damage? I keep getting knocked out too.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine,” Dr. Malevolent replied sarcastically.

With the heroes secured, the alpha bigfoot now had the chance to make his grand entrance. His men parted and he ducked into the cell, trying hard not to bump his noggin; something he had done when entering the cell of other prisoners that robbed him of the intimidating air he had worked so hard to maintain. His bare feet strutted across the cell floor to Freight, and then the alpha placed a single foot upon the man’s back and claimed the territory as his own, no flag necessary. He dug his hairy heel into his back, kneeled down, and picked up the discarded weapon lying next to him.

He pointed the laser rifle at the remaining heroes, taunting them to try something foolish so he could claim their territories as well. As the heroes stared back at the bigfoot and his space age weapon, they figured now was not the time for foolishness and held their arms up. Just as a cruel taskmaster would, the alpha fired into the ceiling, letting the dirt sprinkle over them. The alpha motioned for the door and his underlings forced their prisoners into a cramped line. Captain Rescue was in the front, and a couple apes grabbed Freight’s legs and dragged him to the back of the line while bumping his head against the uneven ground.

As the dead men walking set off through the underground prison, they passed by countless prisoners kept in countless cells. At first, Captain Rescue tried his best to avoid eye contact with the hapless campers that the apes would surely do unspeakable things to sooner or later. The hero’s avoidance did not last long and soon he stared longingly at the prisoners. He had failed them and he knew it. What he did not know, however, was that nobody put any faith in him in the first place.

Eventually, and with much heartache, Captain Rescue pulled his eyes away from those he had failed and looked at the ground in utter shame. Some time passed, and when he finally lifted his head again, his surroundings had shifted. The prisoners now passed through a brightly lit area of this underground settlement, former living quarters from prior to the brainwashings. Captain Rescue peaked into one of the nearby room and saw something that made the color drain from his face. Inside and strapped to an operating table was one of the campers. Three apes donning operating scrubs hovered over the test subject and poked and prodded him as if he were nothing more than a lab rat.

Distracted by the test subject’s shrieks, everyone turned and watched the room as their escorts led them forward. As more shrieks echoed through the prison halls, the bigfoot scientists came and closed the door, signaling that the heroes need not concern themselves with these matters. Captain Rescue kept his neck craned towards that operating room and refused to let go. One last shriek rang out, bringing tears to the hero’s eyes. The screech gradually morphed to something indescribable, unearthly, and monstrous. Captain Rescue snapped his head forward and whistled nonchalantly as if nothing happened.

Brown dirt walls were the only sights visible during the last leg of the trip to the surface. Before long, they ascended a narrow tunnel that had light shining at the end. Outside and in the forest once more, the soon to be executed heroes gazed up at the sun one last time. From all around, dozens of the brainwashed bigfoot congregated to witness their executions. The guards, led by their alpha of a leader, brought the heroes to a series of posts erected in their honor. One by one, the apes strapped the war criminals against them without even giving Harold and his followers a chance to repent. Surprisingly, Freight didn’t give them any trouble, probably because he was still unconscious. The bigfoot just tied him to one of the posts and left him on his butt.

“You’re not even going to offer us blindfolds?” Captain Rescue wailed as they strapped him to the pole and backed away. Laughter erupted from within the crowd of brainwashed bigfoot. Clearly, the noble primates preferred the condemned to see the barrage of laser fire headed for them.

Once again, Captain Rescue began to weep uncontrollably. “You can’t do this! I’m a hero! I can’t die like this, not like this!"

As their executioners lined up across the field, Harold began to chant, “Oh great spirits! Heed my call! Come save us from utter ruin!”

“Oh!” Captain Rescue yelled in tears, “Now you call your spirits!”

The executioners raised their rifles and took aim.

“Spirits! Do not let it end like this! Come, save us!”

Standing off to the side, the alpha ape drew a laser pistol from underneath his belt and pointed directly at Harold. The elderly ape opened his mouth to chant once more and the pistol decisively shut it, leaving a smoldering wound in Harold’s chest as the shaman slumped over dead. With the death of his favorite monkey as well as his own coming soon, Captain Rescue broke down and bawled like a child. Then, out of nowhere, the skies began to darken, bringing night to a sunny day. A combination of Harold’s chanting and Captain Rescue’s lamenting must have spoken to the spirits in just the right way. Before long, lighting shot down from the heavens. The alpha bigfoot stood there, stern faced and without worry, but his underlings were not so steadfast in their determination—soon they would abandon the opportunity of murdering a few superheroes in fear.

The alpha stared down at his small laser pistol and then stormed up to Captain Rescue before pressing the barrel to his forehead. The hero closed his eyes tight and waited for everything to go black. After what felt like an eternity, Captain Rescue figured that his death had been instantaneous and that the afterlife awaited him. Carefully, he lifted his eyelids and readied himself for those pearly gates.

“What?!” Captain Rescue cried as he looked down the barrel of the laser pistol.

The alpha bigfoot just stood absolutely still, teasing the hero.

“Can you believe this guy?” he asked Dr. Malevolent, who stood at the pole next to him.

“I don’t know if it’s him you should be trying to believe,” she replied in a most surreal manner.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Look around, you idiot.”

A task easier said than done considering the enormous hunk of ape standing before the hero, but he craned his neck to the side and tried his best to look around. Before long, but still longer than it took everyone else to realize, Captain Rescue concluded that time had come to a sudden halt. He began struggling with the ropes tying him to the post. Any second now, time could find a way to fix this mess and the bigfoot could get back to their task at hand, killing him and his friends.

A rush of frustration overtook Captain Rescue and he gave his arms and sharp tug. They effortlessly jumped forward and crashed together in front of him. The hero looked down and tried to figure out what the hell just happened. When he saw no rope around his wrists, the hero spun around and inspected the post, which had up and vanished. He glanced to his left and right and saw his friends having similar experiences. He spun back around and smacked his face against the inert bigfoot’s pistol. Captain Rescue rubbed his sore jaw and then kicked the bigfoot in the shin for good measure.

The hero darted to the center of the field and looked at the others, who were staring skyward. Captain Rescue did the same and saw that the dark storm clouds had already begun to dissipate only to have an eerie orange mist take their place. He watched the creepy cloud slowly descend like fog. Soon, it covered the entire settlement and stretched as far as the eye could see. The hero, unsure whether or not this orange stuff was hazardous to his health, cupped his hand over his mouth. Before long, the orange cloud began coalescing before them. The fog grew thicker and thicker until it no long resembled a formless mist, but a round blob. This orange blob soon sprouted arms, a head, and a thin wispy tail. Everyone’s favorite genie, Greg, had come out of nowhere to the heroes’ aid.

“You!” Charlie bellowed as he pointed at the genie.

“Yes?” Greg replied as if there were nothing peculiar about his actions.

“What are you doing here?!”

“What does it look like I’m doing here?”

“It looks like you just saved our asses!” Captain Rescue cheered as he tried to give the gaseous genie a hug, but tumbled straight through him.

“Yes, well. I would appreciate it if you would not try to touch me.”

Dr. Malevolent pushed the hero aside. “Hold on, I thought you hated us.”

“Hate? Does a small boy hate the ants within his ant farm?” Greg said like a philosopher. “I think not. You creatures interest me.”

“So, you’ve been watching us?”

“For some time now.”

“So,” Charlie began, “you’re indifferent, but you decided to save our lives anyway.”

“It sure looks that way.”

“Why?” the bunny laughed.

“Well, if that old creature over there didn’t get himself killed,” Greg said as he pointed to Harold’s lifeless corpse, “I thought maybe I could have asserted myself as one of their ‘spirits’.”

Finally bored of passing his hand through the genie’s gaseous tail, Captain Rescue spoke, “So, now what?”

“Well, I can’t keep time on hold forever.”

Charlie glanced at the motionless apes. “Exactly how long do we have?”

“Thirty seconds, give or take.”

Dr. Malevolent laughed nervously. “You just let us stand around while the clock ticked? We’re never making it out of here alive now!”

With a battle cry of utter gibberish, Captain Rescue sprinted for the alpha ape. He leapt into the air and dove into the bigfoot, which time had crafted into an immovable object. The hero bounced from the makeshift statue and flew backwards. The genie shook its head and then crossed its arms and nodded once. Captain Rescue concluded his journey by slamming into a smooth golden floor. He rose to his feet and took in the oval room. At one end, a series of knobs and levers, and at the other end, Greg’s living quarters, complete with a brand new plasma television. In the middle, Freight’s unconscious body.

“This is your lamp!’ Captain Rescue said excitedly before noticing his utility belt graced his waist once more, “And you returned my utility belt! I think I love you.”

“As much as your strange affection warms my heart, don’t touch anything,” the genie replied tersely.

“Hold on a minute!” Captain Rescue said as he stumbled from shock, “If we’re in your lamp, then that must mean we’ve been shrunk!”

“Yes, that’s how this functions.”

The hero grasped the sides of his head and fell to his knees. “How can I think if my brain’s smaller!”

“Hasn’t stopped you yet, now has it?” Dr. Malevolent scoffed.

Captain Rescue’s attention span had already moved on to bigger and brighter things. “You have a vending machine!”

“Yes, don’t touch it, it’s vintage.”

Greg’s words fell on deaf ears as Captain Rescue headed towards the captivating machine. He pressed his ear against the cold metal and listened to it hum. Finger by finger, he slid his thick black leather gloves from his hands and then tucked them underneath his utility belt. Smiling in adoration, Captain Rescue reached in and gently caressed the dimly lit buttons along the menu. The hero tapped one of the buttons and listened in glee as a glass bottle rolled down the chute singing a lovely melody as the glass tapped against the metal. The drink then sat there at the end of its journey, beckoning the hero to take it in his hand.

Captain rescue reached down, took the glistening bottle, and reveled in its chilly perspiration. The experience brought back such fond childhood memories of asking his mother for money to buy a soda from the corner store. Memories of a life before dolphins ripped her flesh from the bone. He slid the tip of the bottle into the opener mounted into the door and pressed down. It popped with a fizzle. Then like a beautiful girl in a commercial, Captain Rescue lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long gulp. Almost as soon as the bottle left his mouth, the hero released a resounding belch that spewed spit all over the face of the vending machine. He leaned his back into the machine and discreetly tried to wipe it away.

“This is why I asked you not to touch anything,” the genie said.

The hero hung his head in shame and apologized under his breath, “Sorry.”

“Now get away from it before you damage it any further.”

Captain Rescue nodded solemnly and wandered over to the magical lamp’s bow, where all the complicated yet quite colorful controls were—no doubt a more dangerous place for him to loiter. He set the bottle down on the control panel and took a close look at the array of buttons before him. None of them appeared to have any sort of label or description of what they did; they just stared back at Captain Rescue in colorful wonder. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to resist pushing them at random. Over his shoulder, he could hear the grownups start to talk.

“You have to take us back to the city so we can warn the armed forces about the army of yeti planning something massive,” Charlie said to Greg.

The genie huffed. “Sure, this is your personal taxi service anyway.”

“Well, I certainly doubt you want to keep us here any longer than you need to.”

“Right you are, rabbit.”

“Yeah!” Captain Rescue cheered from the control console as he swung around and dragged his cape across the panel. “We have innocents to save! There’s no time to waste.” A few seconds after his rousing declaration, the hero could feel a dampness spreading across his butt. “Oops,” he said quietly while trying not to draw the other’s attention.

“I told you not to touch anything,” the sharply eared genie groaned, “now what did you do?”

Captain Rescue frowned and stepped aside, revealing a sparking control panel, and off to the side, smoke drifted around a soda bottled lying on its side. When the hero gave his rousing declaration and swung around, his cape knocked the bottle over and spilled its contents all over the console. The sugary syrup had begun draining into the delicate machinery, which caused it to go haywire.

Dr. Malevolent gritted her teeth. “You idiot. Do you honestly have to break everything you touch?” She turned to the genie. “This isn’t good, is it?”

“No, no it’s not.”

Captain Rescue grabbed his cape and used it to wipe down the console. “Are we going to crash?!”

“Well, not exactly,” the genie began, “we’re not exactly in motion. So we can’t exactly crash.”

Captain Rescue let go of his cape and turned away from the console. “I don’t get it.”

“This lamp bends time and space to arrive at its destination.”

Bewilderment overcame the hero. “That sounds dangerous!”

“Well, yes. It’s advisable that you don’t spill anything on the sensitive controls.”

“So,” he began, “we are crashing but we won’t feel it and we don’t know where we’ll crash.”

“Or when.”

“When?!”

The genie nodded, “Yes you can’t go around bending time and space and expect to end up anywhere near where you started.”

“So, we could have already crash landed?”

“Technically, we crashed moments after you spilled your drink all over my lamp.”

“It wasn’t all over,” Captain Rescue pouted.

“Yes, but it was all over the parts that mattered,” Dr. Malevolent mocked.

The hero threw up his hands in defense. “Don’t blame me because the genie has stuff in his magical lamp that breaks easy. You’d think that a being with infinite cosmic powers wouldn’t need a magical lamp to get around.”

Charlie nodded in agreement with the hero for once in his life. “Those are my thoughts exactly. Why do you need to rely on technology?”

“As you might be able to guess, bending time and space is tricky. The particulars, however, are beyond your simple minds to comprehend without extensive and boring explanations that I don’t really want to give.”

The genie took a deep breath, even though it didn’t need to breathe.

“Let’s just put it this way: my powers are limited to one universe and one universe alone, and I need the lamp to access other, more exciting universes as well. Then there’s time travel, to do anything fancy, like freezing time or going backwards and forwards, I need the lamp.”

Captain Rescue raised his hand.

“What is it?” the genie growled.

“Don’t you mean ‘universe’ since there’s only the one?”

Dr. Malevolent laughed, “No idiot, Greg is clearly stating that there are many parallel universes.”

“Bingo.”

“Okay well,” the bunny said over Freight’s snoring in the center of the magical lamp, “Putting the intricacies of the universes aside for a moment, how long ‘til you fix the lamp and we can go home from wherever we are?”

Greg thought about it for a moment. “Not too long.” He then turned to Captain Rescue as the barrage of questions continued.

“Where are we anyway?” the hero asked.

“How am I supposed to know? You brought us here.”

Captain Rescue glared at him and then ran to the front of the magical lamp. “Wait a second, how do we get out of here?”

Greg lifted his bloated orange arm and pointed at the spout. “Start climbing.”

Captain Rescue searched for something to climb—a ladder, a rope, an escalator, an elevator, anything. He stared at the genie with a suspicious look in his eyes and then suddenly realized the sarcasm at play. “You’re not very funny at all,” he scolded.

Greg started to wave his arms in a dramatic fashion, conjuring the powers before him, and an exit hatch magically appeared in the wall of the lamp. The genie could have done this instantly without the flamboyant hand gestures, but he really just wanted to show off. In fact, the hatch was always there, Greg just liked to hide it because it clashed with the décor.

He pointed at the hatch and coldly stated, “Get out.”

Chapter 8: A Detour to End All Detours

The heroes poked their heads out of the hatch and tried to figure out where or when they had landed. Considering an alien atmosphere did not suffocate them or melt their insides, it was safe to say they were still on Earth. Even if everything did have an eerie pink afterglow, and even if it looked like civilization was in utter ruins.

“Uh,” Captain Rescue stammered, “where are we?”

Greg floated up behind him. “It sure looks like the Earth, more less.”

A groaning crept up from behind as an awakened Freight came to investigate the commotion. He took one look at the ruined city, with its collapsed walls, broken windows, and debris-littered streets, and uttered a single statement, “Am I dead?”

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “Not yet, but you can thank this idiot here for where we are.”

Freight gave Captain Rescue one quick shove and pushed him through the hatch and out of the magical lamp. Its influence gave way and the hero ballooned to his normal size almost instantly. He gazed down at the tiny lamp and its occupants and couldn’t keep from laughing. Captain Rescue glanced at the ruined city around him and Greg, not ready to let the little guy out into the world quite yet, yanked the hero back into the lamp.

Startled and a little freaked out, Captain Rescue soon realized what just transpired and shook his head of the confusion. “Whoa,” he said plainly, coming back to his senses.

“Okay,” Charlie said, “I’ve seen enough, let’s go home.”

“I’m afraid it’s not going to be that easy,” the genie replied.

“Uh… what?” the confused rabbit stuttered.

“Well, firstly,” Greg began as he motioned for the lamp’s interior behind him, “it’s going to take some time to fix these controls.”

“Can’t you just use your powers to fix them?”

The genie laughed. “That’s the second problem. Something is dampening the best, most exciting ones.”

“How does a genie get its powers dampened?”

Captain Rescue gasped. “Those creepy dolphins have a thing against genies!”

“And who could really blame them?”

“Wait,” Dr. Malevolent began, “he’s right? That’s what’s dampening your powers?”

“Sure looks that way, unless you have a better idea.”

“I guess it makes sense, you did rescue us from our execution and teleport us from the camp. They probably didn’t like that.”

“Evidently not.”

The super villain scratched her chin. “Do you have any idea what’s causing this dampening of your powers? And if so, what we can do to fix it?”

With a grumble, Freight slipped in before Greg had the opportunity to reply, “Whatever it is, I hope we can blow it the hell up.”

“Yes, I do believe that whatever is causing it will need to be blown up,” the genie said. “I would imagine it has something to do with the suspicious pink glow everything has.”

“Yes,” Captain Rescue replied with narrow eyes, “We have encountered pink before. It’s a very bad color.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Freight leapt through the hatch and became his normal size before hitting the ground. “Weird,” he uttered softly after shivering from the sudden influx of size.

“I know… right?” Captain Rescue said as he stuck his head out of the hatch. It and his shoulders instantly began to grow without the rest of his body following suit. The hero fell forward under the weight of his gigantic bobble-head, which slammed against the pavement and pulled his miniature body with it. The disproportioned dimwit quickly equalized and his body tumbled from its upright position and hit the ground with a thump. He picked himself up from the ground and then checked to make sure all of his bits were the same proportion.

The blue plush foot of a bunny rabbit planted itself in the ground next to him. Charlie shivered the icky feeling of being resized from his fur and then looked down at the tiny lamp below, trying to rationalize how he could have ever been inside of it. Within the tiny open hatch, he could see Dr. Malevolent staring up at him. Charlie waved down to her just as she stepped from the lamp and grew in front of him.

“Well,” Dr. Malevolent said as a jittery wave passed over her body, “that was the single strangest feeling I’ve experienced in my life.”

Captain Rescue stepped in front of her and shoved his pinky into her face. “Does this look like it’s the right size?”

She brushed the finger away with an exasperated sigh. “I have never really taken the time to inspect your pinky in the past, and I do not intend to do so now.”

Captain Rescue held it to his face. “I could swear this pinky was smaller before.” He stared at it for another moment and then chuckled. “Swear… pinky… pinky swear.”

“Your odd ability to find humor in the mundane aside, I really doubt the experience would have made your pinky any bigger than it already was. So it must all be in your head.”

He stared at his pinky for another brief moment and then accepted her reasoning. “Well, okay.”

A streak of lightning arched across the sky, pulling Captain Rescue’s attention away from his pinky. He looked for clouds, but to his surprise, this burst of energy did not originate from some mere storm. High in the sky an energy field stretched as far as the eye could see, giving everything the strange pink hue. The source of this energy field was off in the distance; the bigfoot had apparently completed work on their futuristic LEGO structure, for now an immense black spire rose beyond the clouds. From its heights, rippling energy pulses flowed outward and down through the energy field.

“So,” Charlie began, “I think we found our genie dampener.”

“It sure looks that way,” Dr. Malevolent agreed as more lightning arched across the sky.

Freight pointed at the spire and spoke directly to it, “We’ll be coming for you, coming to blow you up!”

“I don’t think it can hear you from this distance,” Captain Rescue said to him in a matter of fact tone.

“Hey,” a disembodied voice said, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

Greg suddenly appeared before them with the lamp in his hands. “Take good care of this in that pouch of yours, would you?” the genie said, handing the lamp to Charlie. “If you break it, you’ll never get home.”

“Wait,” Dr. Malevolent stopped the genie, “don’t give it to him. It’ll get lost in that bottomless pit of despair.”

“What?” the genie answered.

The bunny still had no idea the origins of his very suave bunny suit, or the mysterious pouch stitched into its chest. A compartment that, when opened, could hold a few hundred cubic feet of yarn. Not that he would ever fill it with yarn, but he could. As a demonstration to the genie, Charlie opened the patch and removed a ten-foot pole.

“Interesting magic,” the intrigued genie said.

“Yeah,’ Charlie agreed, “I really have no explanation for it.”

The genie just shrugged and then handed the lamp to Dr. Malevolent. “You keep it then.”

She slid the lamp into her pocket. “I will protect it with my life.”

Greg almost teleported into the lamp, but then stopped and decided to be a little more theatrical. The genie spread into a formless cloud, but before he could head into his lamp, Captain Rescue cried out.

“What!? You’re not joining us!”

“I’ve got work to do,” the formless cloud said, “fixing the mess you started.”

“But…” Captain Rescue began before stopping to think for an excessive amount of time. “Can’t you just wait till we fix your powers, and do it like instantly?”

“Not instantly, but faster than your mind can grasp.”

“Then stay with us!”

“No, I think I’ll just relax inside my lamp and let you ingrates do all the hard work.”

The formless cloud seeped into the magical lamp.

Captain Rescue stomped his feet. “Fine!”

Business sorted, the emotionally wounded superhero tried to recall their location from one of his previous adventures. The lamp had crash-landed right next to the doghouse of some obscure home in some obscure suburb. The grass covering this backyard had long since died and all that remained was a lot of brown dirt. Chipped away paint coated the nearby house, which had fallen to disrepair as its curtains flapped through the blown out windows. To top it off, scorch marks polka dotted the house. Captain Rescue’s eyes returned to the doghouse. He stepped around to its front and peered inside, where whitewashed dog bones lay curled up in an eternal nap.

After shedding a few tears for the canine, he and his friends left the backyard through the rusted gate that was permanently fused into an open position. Captain Rescue held his arms up and carefully passed through it, careful not to touch the metal. He had no idea what could have made its home on that dirty red mess after all these years. Not to mention the ever present threat of tetanus, and the hero knew all too well the dangers of tetanus. If left unchecked, it would render him an inhuman monster.

He released a relieved exhale as he surmounted the rusted gate obstacle and entered the front yard along with his friends, who did not seem to grasp the threat of tetanus as he did. Captain Rescue forced his eyes away from the rusted metal and focused his attention to the neighborhood. A few decades ago, it would have been the picture perfect place to raise a family, but now the neighborhood frightened the crap out of Captain Rescue—not that he was not used to that feeling already. He actually reveled in it. Fear was the perfect deterrent to any unnecessary danger, and it was the main reason Captain Rescue was still alive, that and fate. The four time-displaced misfits trekked through the yard and came to the sidewalk. As they glanced up and down the street, they noticed the huge chunks missing from the curb and rubble littering the street.

Charlie turned to the others and spoke, “What in the hell happened here? And where are all the people? You don’t think… zombies?”

Captain Rescue laughed. “Zombies? In the middle of the day? That’s ludicrous!”

Dr. Malevolent took one look at him, one hard, annoyed look, and then kicked him in the shin. “Are you retarded? Zombies can come out during the day. They’re not vampires.”

“Then how come our experience with them took place at night?”

“Uh… because, that’s just when it happened. It wasn’t anything special.”

“Fine… fine… but when the sun goes down and we get swarmed by zombies, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“The only thing we’ll see coming out at night are apes! Lots and lots of apes! Now just shut up.”

Freight rubbed the shotgun slid underneath his belt and cracked a smile. “That’s just what I was hoping for. Something to kill!”

“You’re always looking for something to kill. It’s what I like best about you,” Dr. Malevolent said with a smile.

“You know what I like best about you?”

Dr. Malevolent sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Yup, saw that coming,” the super villain said as a loud clank derailed her train of thought. “Uh, what was that?”

“What was wha—” Captain Rescue said loudly as Dr. Malevolent cupped her hand over his mouth.

“I don’t think we’re alone,” she whispered before a disgusting look covered her face. “And stop licking my hand, you freak.”

“Sorry,” Captain Rescue said as he pulled his tongue back into the recesses of his mouth.

She motioned for the nearby abandoned home and the heroes sprinted down the concrete path leading up to the door with the tattered remains of the lawn surrounding them on both sides. Freight followed behind the others while on the lookout for anything to shoot. As he began climbing the steps, they shattered and crumbled under the weight of his manliness, but Freight, never one to let anything like gravity get his way, just leapt effortlessly onto the porch. They entered the house and instantly realized that this was probably a bad idea. All that remained of the once homely home was the living room. The roof had caved in and cut off the entrance from the rest of it, which meant the front door was the only way in or out of the house. Unless they wanted to clamor through a window, a window with serrated teeth-like glass. The clanking was just outside now, and the heroes looked for places to hide.

Captain Rescue dove behind the wire frame of a couch for cover. As he stared through it, and subsequently through the front door, the yard, and the torn fabric dangling from the metal coils, he realized what terrible cover this was and started looking for somewhere else to hide. The hero opened a door in the corner of the living room and sealed himself inside a closet before turning around to discover the entire side wall missing. The hero looked into the garage and through the missing garage door.

His face morphed from frustration into horror and bewilderment. A dolphin, wearing its signature exoskeletal armor, patrolled down the sidewalk with four apes in tow. Captain Rescue carefully stepped away from the missing closet wall and reached behind, thumbing for the doorknob. He took hold of it and twisted it slowly, then pushed the door outward as it creaked across the wooden floor. Captain Rescue stepped out of the closet and looked at the others with wide eyes. He could tell right away that they too had seen the dolphin walking up the sidewalk.

The gang kept quiet as they pressed themselves against the front wall of the house. They kept a close eye on the patrol while trying their best to stay inconspicuous. Freight brushed away the torn curtains and watched the dolphin patrol approach the house. Even though he wanted to leap through this window and go to town on his enemy, he knew that they would take little more than one man and his shotgun to defeat. Freight stepped away from the window, but as he did so, his foot just happened to land on the one wooden plank weaker than the others. A loud crack resonated as it snapped in two and sent his foot through the floor. He ripped it from the hole he had created, adding to the cacophony.

Outside, the patrol stopped and faced the house. The bigfoot stood at the ready as their dolphin leader lifted its snout into the air and began clicking, scanning the length of the house with its nose.

“What the hell is it doing?!” Freight asked as softly as he could, which was still quite loud.

“Echolocation,” Captain Rescue said, putting his dolphin research to good use, “I think he’s looking for something.”

Dr. Malevolent threw her hands into the air. “Geez I wonder what that could be!”

The dolphin raised its mechanical arm, pointed towards the house, and unleashed its hairy hounds. As the apes commenced their charge, their laser rifles sparkled in the sunlight. While the rifles from the past looked similar to projectile-based weapons that shot shiny red lasers instead of bullets, these looked like a laser rifle should. Shining chrome barrels with sleek black stocks formed the weapon’s body, both abundant with curves, resembling that of an aerodynamic aircraft. Coils lined the rifle’s barrel, which honed energy into a deadly charge.

Also improved upon were the bigfoot themselves, which now had muscles rippling through their scantily clad hairy bodies. The dolphins tried their best to get their pets to dress properly, but the apes would not hear any of that nonsense and stuck with their simple loincloth as well as harnesses over their shoulders to hold their laser rifles. Ultimately, the dolphins did not mind the decision one bit. The bigfoot propagated like rats and clothing each and every one of them would have been more trouble than it was really worth. The hairy apes reached the steps leading up to the house and took notice of the freshly broken concrete.

“We might have an issue,” Charlie whispered to the others, “there’s not exactly another way out of here.”

Captain Rescue’s brain prodded him into replying to the statement. “Wait, yeah there is! In the closet!”

Dr. Malevolent glared suspiciously at him. “In… the… closet?”

“No… it’s… uh… just follow me.”

Captain Rescue ran over to the closet as the others followed closely behind and opened it, revealing the missing wall that led to the garage.

“You’re a genius,” Dr. Malevolent said without realizing until afterward that she had complimented him.

Captain Rescue beamed as he led them into the closet and then closed the door from behind. While the dolphin loitered on the sidewalk, the gang crept into the garage and hugged the wall as they headed towards the rear of the house, where a door led into the backyard. As they left the garage, they could hear the bigfoot within tear the place apart with their laser rifles, signaled by the sizzling explosions. They darted across the backyard, through the dirt and beyond the doghouse mausoleum.

As they darted through several backyards, Dr. Malevolent brought up an interesting point. “Y’know… I think they probably knew we were here.”

Captain Rescue made a strange noise with his mouth, meant to relay either his disbelief of her statement or his inability to speak properly while at full gallop. “How could… they have ever known… we were here?”

“Do you see any other patrols or… anything at all?”

“Uh,” Captain Rescue pondered, looking around in every direction while simultaneously avoiding any tripping hazards along the ground. “I guess not.”

Dr. Malevolent did not let the jostling of her body while she ran hamper her flow of speech, unlike a certain captain, “I ascertain that our enemy, with all their futuristic technology, somehow detected our arrival from the past and dispatched that patrol to hunt us down and torture us.”

Captain Rescue gulped and suddenly stopped as he everyone else did the same. He spoke through his quivering lip, “Did you just say… torture?”

“Yes of course, what else would they do to us if we were to be captured?”

“Well I dunno, but… more torture?”

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “Yeah, and if you don’t want to suffer a fate you’ve already experienced once, we had better hurry up and go home.”

Captain Rescue took a deep, heroic breath and placed his hands upon his waist, thrusting his chest into the air. He lifted one hand and pointed at the spire towering not far into the distance. He nodded once to Freight, to Charlie, and then finally to Dr. Malevolent and then began a manly march.

Chapter 9: Ice Cream and Lingerie

The gang made it through the dilapidated neighborhood without encountering any more dolphins or their muscle bound escorts. Within a few minutes, they arrived at the remnants of civilization. A few years back in time, this street would have been the place to be. In many ways, it still was the place to be—the place to be captured and taken back to some futuristic torture chamber where dolphins would flay the skin from their bones, because that’s just what they did.

The storefront-lined street appeared as though it dated a tornado, and judging by the carnage, their relationship had been a tumultuous one filled with passion, anger, deceit, and betrayal. When it finally ended, the tornado grew vindictive and began jumping up and down on each building to teach the street not to fool around with its heart. It certainly looked like something that dramatic occurred. The details might not have been quite the same. Maybe instead of a tornado the street dated a hurricane or an earthquake, but either way, it was ugly. Only a handful of stores survived this relationship; the others had crumbled under the weight of shattered love. These survivors had their insides strewn out along a street that had not seen traffic in some time. A single streetlight with tennis shoes dangling from it kept watch over it all.

Captain Rescue instantly recognized the scenery. He had once saved an elderly woman from hooligans right here, but the senior citizen was not very appreciative of his heroic deed, something that had bothered him to this day. He risked life and limb to rescue her. Why hadn’t she at least thanked him? Sadly, Captain Rescue had misinterpreted the incident; the hooligans were only trying to help the poor woman cross the street. They knew it, she knew it, and the only person out of the loop was Captain Rescue, who fought the miscreants off with a can of pepper spray. He looked down the street and tried to figure out why the poor old lady had been so irritated with him.

The gang climbed onto the sidewalk and Captain Rescue kicked a loose brick that flew through the air and then hit the ground with a resonating clank. It only took a few milliseconds for him and the others to realize that this sound originated not from the brick, but from another dolphin patrol coming down the street. Without wasting too much time, they rushed into the remains of a lingerie boutique. Captain Rescue picked up a loose brassiere, held it up to his chest, and admired the view. Freight sighed and yanked the hero’s ankles out from under him. He fell to the ground while the lingerie hung in the air for a moment and then fell on top of him.

The patrol was just around the corner now, and Captain Rescue pulled that dirty old brassiere over his head to better shield himself from their prying eyes and echolocation. As their enemy neared, the gang began to hear something else amongst the clanks of mechanized legs—a dragging of chains. The dolphin came into view and so did the ragged humans shackled in a line behind it. The sea mammal did not bother looking into the lingerie boutique, probably because turning like that would have been too much for both its spine and the armor to accomplish.

The downtrodden humans stared at the ground without looking away, even if their flexible spines would have allowed them the movement with ease. A girl with disheveled hair that blocked most of her view looked into the store as she passed. Captain Rescue, close to the ground and mostly out of sight, peered into what he could see of her eyes. Immediately, she stared back. The hero waved cheerfully and then brought his hand to his mouth, telling her to keep quiet. She nodded subtly before turning her head forward to make sure she drew no attention to the hidden heroes.

A pair of bigfoot brought up the tail end of the patrol, and then they left without so much as a glance into the lingerie boutique. As the clanking faded away, Captain Rescue and the others got to their feet. He walked to the front of the store and carefully peered down the street and giggled while watching the bigfoots’ muscular buttocks move up and down.

Captain Rescue turned to the others and counted with his fingers before looking very perplexed. “Wasn’t there only four of us?”

Dr. Malevolent nodded without saying a word, instead using her eyes to convey her annoyance.

“Then who’s that?” he asked while pointing between Dr. Malevolent and Freight to where a young woman stood who blended into the wrecked store. She wore ragged clothes and presumably had not showered in generations. A messenger bag slung over her shoulder had its flap open and revealed the items scavenged from the city’s remains.

The girl held up her hand. “Hello.”

“Wait a second,” Dr. Malevolent said as she eyed her up and down. “Where on earth did you come from?”

“I was in here looking for supplies when you came in, so I hid in the corner.”

She laughed. “Supplies in a lingerie shop?”

“Supplies are scarce,” the girl answered with a shrug.

“I guess so,” Dr. Malevolent agreed. “You must be good at hiding.”

“It’s why I’m not chained up or dead.” Her eyes fell to Captain Rescue and she stumbled backwards. “Wait a second… I know you.”

He placed his hands on his waist and assumed his heroic stance. “I am Captain Rescue!”

“You abandoned us! Left us to these monsters!”

“Uh…” he said sulking down. “Sorry?”

Dr. Malevolent stepped in, “How long has this occupation been going on?”

“Three years!”

The super villain was stunned. “Three years? All of this carnage in just three years?”

The girl placed her hands over her eyes and wept.

Captain Rescue stepped up and placed his hand upon her shoulder. “Fear not, noble girl, for I will save you from this oppression!”

She looked up to him as tears streamed from her eyes. “I knew you would return some day! I just knew it!” The girl rested her head against Captain Rescue’s chest and he shivered as her tears soaked his spandex.

“Are you alone out here?”

“No, there’s a small group of us hidden not far from here.” She wiped her tears away and composed herself.

“How do you survive in a place like this?” Charlie asked her.

“We stay underground most of the time and people like me come to the surface to scavenge.” She motioned for the messenger bag over her shoulder.

“Take us to your hideout; we could use all the help we can get,” the bunny commanded.

She nodded. “Follow me.”

“Okay!” Captain Rescue clapped his hands together. “Let’s get moving!”

He faced the lingerie boutique’s exit and pressed forth, ready to save these poor people from the clutches of their powerful adversary, the super intelligent dolphins from the future. Before Captain Rescue made it out of the shop, a brassiere wrapped itself around his ankle and tripped the hero. He slammed against the dirty ground and cursed, sure that this was a trap set by his enemy to make him look a fool. Not that he needed any outside influence for that; Captain Rescue did it quite well on his own.

Dr. Malevolent left the store and shielded her eyes from the bright pink sky that had come alive with electric energy pulsating through it. Lightning arched downward from the field as solar flares arch from the sun’s surface. She thought about the dolphins and their ongoing struggles to conquer humanity. The zombies might have been a step too far, what with all the death and destruction, but enslaving all of humanity? That was Dr. Malevolent’s kind of evil, and she hoped to one day emulate it.

Without saying a word, the young girl darted off to the right, in the same direction the patrol and their prisoners went. At the end of the block, she took a left, and led them through an especially ruined section of the city. Entire buildings had ejected their contents onto the street, and navigating through the dangerous maze would be tricky. As the gang snaked their way through the debris, Captain Rescue, certain that tetanus was just a pinprick away, avoided everything on the ground. One misstep and he would be on his back writhing like a madman. He shuddered at the thought.

Their escort led them to the end of this block then stopped and turned towards a giant pile of debris right on the corner; the remains of an ice cream parlor. The survivors had found a place to hide inside an old fallout shelter from the fifties, but getting in and out of it was rather precarious. Over time, the scavengers had fortified the rubble into the perfect entrance to their hideout. Someone only occasionally died from having a slab of concrete fall on their head, and that had not happened for months.

Captain Rescue practically wet himself. Not only did rusted rebar protrude from the rubble, the entire pile appeared as though it could collapse at any moment. The girl stopped some ways in and looked back at him with excitement in her eyes. Captain Rescue stared at her and cursed himself silently for being so susceptible to an innocent in need. He bottled up his trepidation and buried it deep inside where it would not bother him as he risked life and limb climbing through this death trap.

The hero exhaled, ducked down, and entered the small tunnel through the debris. Against his better judgment, he looked upwards at the spike trap inches above his head. A loose network of wooden planks strengthened the rubble pile and kept it from dropping down and crushing them. Captain Rescue looked behind him as Freight did his best to squeeze in. The giant man kicked something with his knee and the entire structure shook. Captain Rescue let out a startled shriek and then peed his pants. He knew that he should have relieved himself before departing on this adventure. The hero sighed as he and the others left the death trap rubble pile and entered the broken down ice cream parlor.

Captain Rescue stood tall, turned to their young escort, and then spoke, “Where’s the bathroom?”

She laughed and then pointed to her left, where Captain Rescue could plainly see a small plaque next to the doorway of a man and woman standing side by side. He nodded and headed towards it before disappearing around the wall to clean himself off. Their escort led the others behind the counter to an employee only section of the parlor. A doorway, which had no door to accompany it, led to an office area. The desks, chairs, and office supplies all had a few years of dust and grime coating them.

From the bathroom, Captain Rescue began singing a verse of the song he made during their camping trip, “Dolphins! Oh Dolphins! They’re coming for us! They’re gonna get us!

Oh dolphins!”

Dr. Malevolent yelled back to him, “Would you shut up and get in here.”

He ceased his serenade and looked down at his soiled spandex. After using brown water to wash them dirty, Captain Rescue stuck his hand into the paper towel dispenser, unsurprisingly found it empty, and cursed under his breath. He reached around and grabbed hold of his cape. This certainly wasn’t the first time he used it like a washcloth to dry himself off. His cape was Captain Rescue’s most versatile crime-fighting tool, and he had lost count of the many unique ways in which it had helped him in the past. The hero let go of his cape and it fell back to its natural position, and then he looked at it in the mirror, shaking to get the creases just right, and to hide the small scorch marks.

Captain Rescue exited the bathroom and looked over the counter and through the door to the others. He placed his hand upon the metal roof and tried to decide if he wanted to jump over it like a badass or go around like a chump. He laughed; Captain Rescue would never be a chump. The hero leapt into the air and the thin metal canopy instantly collapsed like tin foil. He fell into the array of ice cream buckets below, and, as he tried to climb to his feet, those buckets did everything but cooperate. Captain Rescue flailed about like a fish out of water as he tried to get up.

Freight grumbled and went to his aid. The giant man took hold of Captain Rescue’s cape and hoisted him into the air while he refused to knock off his kicking and flailing. Freight pivoted in place, moving him away from the ice cream counter and back over stable ground. He initially planned to set Captain Rescue down gently; unlike Dr. Malevolent, Freight harbored no ill feelings for the crime fighter. He just found him a little annoying, but as Captain Rescue refused to cease his incorrigible commotion, Freight just shrugged and dropped him to the ground. His knees buckled and the hero fell forward, just narrowly missing the counter and the subsequent spilling of brain matter that would have followed.

Captain Rescue got to his feet as if nothing happened. He strolled into the office area, where their young girl escort hovered over a large filing cabinet. She waited until the hero stood next to her before pushing it over and letting it rest upon the nearby wall, revealing the staircase leading into the fallout shelter. As Captain Rescue stared down at it, all his fears of tetanus flowed to the surface. He looked at dirty staircase and then to the young reverent-eyed girl. Captain Rescue knew what he had to do. The hero reached down and grabbed his thick, black leather gloves, which were still tucked underneath his utility belt.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?” the super villain said as she watched him thrust the thick leather gloves onto his wrists.

“You may say that, but I can’t fight crime if I contract an infectious disease.”

Dr. Malevolent laughed and then spoke softly, “The only infectious disease you have or will ever contract is sheer stupidity.”

Captain Rescue stuck his tongue out at her as a child would to their arch nemesis on the playground. Before he could further state the threats of germs in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, the young escort started shimmying down the ladder. She glanced up to them at about the halfway mark and waved. As the others scurried down the ladder, Captain Rescue just stood there staring at the rungs below. Each one was a venomous snake that would strike out and sink their fangs into the hero when he made his descent, but luckily, those fangs could not puncture leather. Losing himself a bit, Captain Rescue leapt into the narrow shaft and tried to latch onto the rungs, but his downward momentum had another idea. He tried to grip the rung, but the leather slipped right off. Captain Rescue rammed into the others, and away the snowball went.

The cluster tumbled down the shaft, bumping and nudging against the wall and each other. To avoid being on the bottom when they smacked the ground, the small escort maneuvered to the top in the blink of an eye. Seconds later, and with a resounding crash, Freight and Charlie broke all of their falls, leaving the two of them and everyone else unscathed. Luckily, Freight was man enough to survive a fall from practically any height, and since plush covered Charlie from head to toe, he rather enjoyed the fall. Resting on top of the two fall breakers, Dr. Malevolent could feel Captain Rescue and the slight dampness in his pelvic region against her arm; the faint remnants of urine mixed with water that he had tried ever so hard to clean up. She looked at him, he looked back at her, and they froze there.

She cleared her throat. “What is that?”

He grimaced. “I uh… I spilled some… water on myself in the bathroom.”

Dr. Malevolent glared at Captain Rescue and then shoved him from the pile. He rolled across the dirty concrete, unwittingly wrapping himself in his cape. The hero arrived at the young girl’s feet and then stumbled to his. He thrashed about and tried to devise a means of escaping the prison his cape had created for him. As he struggled, his leather-covered fingers protruded from the wrapping and wriggled about. Captain Rescue spun around, trying to find the bottom of his cape so he could grab it with his teeth and yank himself free, but in doing so, the twirling unraveled the prison in a matter of seconds. The dizzying momentum caused Captain Rescue to tumble back to the ground and then glance upwards. Through the young girl’s ankles, he could see the giant vault entrance to the fallout shelter.

Chapter 10: People in the Future Sure Are Crazy

Captain Rescue waltzed into a large grey room just beyond the fallout shelter’s entrance. He took one look at the tiny hole in the back and clenched his fists in anger—another ladder. The hero threw both of those fists into the air and shook them in a ridiculous and uneven pattern like a sociopath trying to convey the message of anger, but failing miserably. The others just left him here in this fallout shelter lobby and descended the ladder. Captain Rescue eventually gave up trying to convey emotions he had no comprehension of and dropped his arms to his sides, looked around, and wondered where everyone else had gone.

Captain Rescue approached the ladder and gazed down at the heads of his friends descending into darkness. His eyes traveled to the clean metal rungs and he breathed a sigh of relief. He would not have to worry about infectious diseases this time around. In fact, the rungs looked clean enough to eat off of, and he had to fight the urge to kneel down and lick one of them. Captain Rescue suppressed his impulses, got to his hands and knees, and, carefully grabbed hold of the rungs before climbing into the shaft and beginning his descent.

As he traveled down, the hero could see a faint pink blob emerging underneath his nose. His tongue had disobeyed a direct order and acted on its own. He yanked his head back and the mutineer retreated into its hideout. From there, the trip downward was a constant struggle to keep his tongue in his mouth and away from the shiny metal. Before they knew it, Captain Rescue’s feet found the concrete floor at the base of the ladder, and the hero, caught off guard by the constant struggling, yelped subtly.

He relinquished his grasp of the shiny metal rungs and planted his feet firmly against the concrete. Captain Rescue turned around to find the entire population of the fallout shelter waiting for him. His eyes grew wide and he looked at the young escort, who just smirked at him.

The hero looked back to the crowd and then spoke, “Uh… hello?”

“You have returned!” one of them cheered.

“I know! It’s been three whole years, and I felt each and every one of them!” Captain Rescue exclaimed as the crowd just rushed in and embraced him from every angle.

“You will bring us freedom!” another shouted.

“We will no longer be oppressed!”

Something deep inside Captain Rescue clicked and he raised his arms into the air. “Yes, my people. I will save you all! I will make you free! Follow me!”

Off to the corner, Dr. Malevolent cringed. All of this time, all she had ever wanted was to conquer and rule, to have hordes of people at her fingertips, but somehow this oaf had already done it. Sure, it took a catastrophe and an influx of genetically modified bigfoot with lasers; led by genetically modified dolphins from the distant future, but he did it. Captain Rescue was the messiah these people needed. But at the same time, they did seem awfully clingy, and Dr. Malevolent still preferred to lead with an iron fist rather than—whatever you would call this.

Captain Rescue picked a child up off the ground and held him into the air. The boy twitched with glee and shivered from head to toe as the hero embraced his tiny body. He did not know exactly how to react to this magnificent gift given to him, and, once released, the boy just ran off twitching with excitement. More children erupted from the crowd and swarmed Captain Rescue. He had to fight his years of crime fighting inexperience to keep from instinctively diving into his utility belt for something to stave off the attack, but luckily, he learned the children just wanted to play.

Four of the little tykes ran up to the hero and latched themselves to his arms and legs. Captain Rescue laughed loudly and then romped around like Godzilla, letting the energy of the crowd engulf him as he roared playfully. While Charlie and Freight wandered off, Dr. Malevolent just stood there with her arms crossed as she oddly enjoyed the charade.

“Oh, we have visitors!” an elderly and quite weathered refugee said as she approached. The young scavenger girl that led them here handed the bag of supplies to the older woman and received an appreciative nod and hug in return.

“I always knew you would return,” she began, “but where did you go?”

Captain Rescue assumed his stock heroic stance and answered warmly, “Where we went matters not. What matters is that we’re here to save you fine folks.” He placed his hand upon her shoulder and smiled warmly.

The elderly woman looked towards him suspiciously. “And how do you expect to do that?”

Captain Rescue placed his hands upon his waist and spoke valiantly, “We will take this fight straight to the enemy and put a stop to them for once and for all, so that you fine people can live in peace for the first time in… three years.”

Dr. Malevolent laughed to herself at the statement. She knew something Captain Rescue apparently did not: that their only viable course of action was to go back in time and prevent this course of history from ever happening, thus nullifying the last three years and causing these people, in this state, to cease to exist. Their past selves would just continue on living their happy little lives without knowing anything of the oppression that would have been forced upon them if Dr. Malevolent had not intervened and saved the timeline. If only they knew how pivotal a roll she would soon play in their indirect salvation, these people might have dropped to their knees and worshipped her right next to Captain Oaf.

As the oppressed future-humans began graveling before their messiah, Dr. Malevolent fluffed the entire thing off and wandered away to give the hero and his worshipers some alone time. Unsure what to do with herself now, Dr. Malevolent wandered over to where Freight and Charlie mingled. The time had come for taking another stab at recruiting Freight into her sinister order—she had gotten so close the last time.

“So,” she began as Freight and Charlie turned towards her, “I see you and my bunny of a right hand man are getting along nicely. You should work for him and me. I promise that when the time comes for us to rise up over the people, we will still treat them well. It’s the least I could do to keep them from graveling before that guy.”

She could see the interest welling in his eyes. “I’ll give you his job.” Dr. Malevolent motioned for the bunny. “You can be my right hand man.”

Absolute shock overtook Charlie and his wide bunny smile. “But what about me? I’m your right hand man.”

“Well,” she thought it over, “how about this, you can continue to work for me as… my left hand man and you can continue to wear the costume.”

‘That’s uh…” Charlie said as he scratched his whiskers, “an awfully enticing deal. What’s the catch?”

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “The catch? The catch is you have to wear that awful costume. You can be our mascot.”

“That’s a little demeaning.”

“You’re the one who waltzes around in a bright blue costume. I don’t think you’ve really got anything to worry about.”

A child’s “Woo hoo!” echoed through the fallout shelter, and Dr. Malevolent glanced over her shoulder to see Captain Rescue tossing a youngster into the air and catching him as the crowd applauded. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her new employee, and the demoted mascot.

Freight cleared his throat. “So I can boss him around.” He motioned for Charlie with his head. “The right hand outranks the left hand.”

“Well, you can, but I don’t know if I’d recommend it. He can be awfully feisty.”

The crowd gasped in horror, and Dr. Malevolent looked their way just as Captain Rescue comforted his onlookers. “It’s okay! He’s alright, he’s alright. He bumped his noggin but everything seems okay!” He helped the little boy get up from the ground, and then turned him around to face the crowd so they could see that no damage had been done save the stars orbiting around his head. The boy waved weakly to the crowd and then shook his wee little noggin and smiled brightly.

“We should get out of here. There’s work to be done,” Freight grumbled.

Dr. Malevolent turned her attention away from the crowd and looked at him with serious eyes. “And rob the crowd of seeing their hero at his finest—dropping children on their heads?”

Yet again, the crowd gasped in horror. “Oh, geez. I am so sorry. I need to get these gloves of mine regripped. Stuff just slips right out of them!”

“Okay yes,” Dr. Malevolent changed her mind, “we need to get out of here before they realize Captain Rescue is not all he’s cracked up to be… and kill us all.”

The young girl that led them here emerged from the crowd, and Dr. Malevolent waved her over. She jogged towards them with a wide smirk across her face. “Isn’t it so lovely to see the hero so candid?”

Dr. Malevolent choked on the air passing into her lungs. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good way to look at it. Candid.”

This was about all Freight could stomach of this idle chatter. “Listen, kid. That giant tower nearby, we need to blow it up.”

Her eyes beamed. “Oh, will that free us?”

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “In a roundabout way, yes… yes it will.”

The girl pursed her lips. “It will be tricky! We are told to stay away from that giant building because of how many of them are there. Attacking it head on would be a bad idea.”

“Nothing is a bad idea with enough firepower! Where do you keep your laser weapons?” Freight growled at the girl.

“Uh, laser weapons?” she asked.

Freight’s lower lip quivered. “You don’t have laser weapons?”

The girl shook her head. “We’re survivors not fighters.”

He grabbed the sides of his head and almost yanked his hair out. “Then what are we doing here?!”

“Well, if you want weapons. The gorillas have a place they store supplies nearby, you might be able to find some weapons there, but there are loads of patrols between here and there.”

Dr. Malevolent turned to see if the village idiot had gotten into any more trouble. To her surprise, he had not. In fact, Captain Rescue had pulled up a chair, and he now had a book in his hands while he read to both the children and adults sitting Indian-style all around, sparkles in their eyes. The book’s title eluded her, but the fact he possessed the ability to read surprised her enough for that not to matter. She laughed. Knowing him, it was probably a picture book, and he was describing the pictures he saw to the crowd.

“So, these patrols,” Charlie pulled the super villain’s attention away from story time, “I suppose it would be a bad idea to try to fight our way through them.”

“Yeah!” the girl said loudly, “they kill an occasional scavenger!” Then, unexpectedly, her face went white. “There’s a way around them… but it’s not safe.”

“Well,” Charlie continued, “is it more or less safe than being vaporized by patrols.”

“It depends. You could go through,” she paused in fear, “the haunted maintenance tunnels!”

Dr. Malevolent crossed her arms. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Believe in them or not. No one who’s ever entered that tunnel has come out.”

“So,” the super villain laughed, “how could you know they’re haunted if no one that’s ever entered them has come out to tell you so?”

The girl thought about the statement. “They don’t come out! That’s proof enough the tunnels are haunted.”

Freight shrugged. “Ghosts don’t scare me. Let’s go through these tunnels, steal some weapons, set some charges, and then blow up the supply depot when we go in to take out the tower.”

“And just where are we going to find these charges?”

“Uh,” Charlie started, “I might have a fix for that.”

She looked down at the stomach pouch. “Why aren’t I surprised that you’re carrying around deadly explosives.”

“They’re not armed! I keep them relatively safe.”

She laughed. “Relatively…”

“Perfect, then the plan is set,” Freight concluded.

Dr. Malevolent clapped, “You are quite the military strategist, but I have one question.”

Freight looked at her.

“What are you scared of?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Oh, there’s something, and I’m going to figure it out.”

Freight laughed. “Go ahead and try.”

Before Dr. Malevolent could start listing common fears, Captain Rescue scurried up to them. “Hello friends!”

She turned to him. “Oh, did you enjoy story time?”

“Story time?” he repeated while scratching his head.

“Yeah, the book you were reading to all those people.”

“Reading? Book?” he looked around.

She had to refrain from slapping him across the face. “I don’t understand how your brain works, you lunatic.”

“Are we even sure it does?” Charlie added.

She nodded to him. “You might have been busy having an out of body experience while your body read to this people, but we made a plan.”

“I hope it involves freeing these people!”

“Yes, in fact, it does,” Dr. Malevolent said, “Which way to the maintenance tunnels?”

“I grew up around here,” Charlie added, “but things have changed a lot since then—in more ways than one.”

“Wait a second!” Captain Rescue stammered as he turned away from his adoring public just as they began asking him to bless their children. “You grew up in the future?!”

The bunny, too entertained by his assumption to disprove it, simply replied, “Yes, yes I grew up in the future.”

The hero stumbled backwards. “Amazing. How did you go back in time?”

“I cannot say, for it’s a secret.”

“I’ve got my eye on you,” the hero added with a stare.

Charlie just laughed and turned to their escort. “Let’s head out.”

“I’ll show you the way, but no way am I going in there,” the young girl added.

Dr. Malevolent shrugged. “Fair enough. Now let’s get out of here before these people deify Captain Rescue.”

Their new God turned to kiss the cheeks and hands of the people.

“I think they already have,” Charlie said.

“More reason to skedaddle,” Dr. Malevolent urged, turning to the young girl, “Lead the way, whatever your name is.”

“It’s Shannon.”

“Lead the way… Shannon.”

Captain Rescue spoke to the reverent-eyed followers. “We must now depart, you noble peoples. Rest assured that we will not return until we’ve made the world a better place or we will die trying.”

The gang made for the ladder as Captain Rescue’s fans followed close behind. They were taking his departure exceedingly hard as noted by the tears welling in their eyes and their begs for him to stay. As Captain Rescue ascended the metal ladder upwards, the worshipful people gathered at the bottom and held their arms upwards as he waved down to them, and with that, he set off on the next part of his journey.

Chapter 11: Apes Must Not Look Up

The gang made it up the clean ladder, through the vault door, and started to ascend the disgusting ladder. Captain Rescue kept his eyes closed under the assumption that not looking would somehow keep him safe from all of those infectious diseases that haunted his dreams. After some time, he overcame his fears and opened his eyes only to find Freight’s mammoth man-ass. He stared at that chiseled rump for a while until pink daylight eclipsed it as Charlie shoved open the trapdoor filing cabinet.

Captain Rescue pushed his arms through the narrow opening and placed his hands upon the surrounding ground. Dirt; grime and dirt. The hero fought back his gag reflex, felt around for the cleanest possible spot, and lifted himself through the trapdoor. Once on his feet, Captain Rescue raised his disgusting dirt-covered hands into the air and squealed like a pig before frantically searching for something to wipe them off on. For a moment, he petitioned Charlie and his plush suit, but he could quickly see how terrible of an idea that was by the bunny’s mannerisms.

He sighed, closed his eyes tightly, and then wiped clean his grime-encrusted hands on his costume. The hero opened his eyes and could not help but to notice how clean everyone else was. Did they somehow discover a secret to ascending disgusting ladders into disgusting ice cream parlors? That had to be it. He retaliated against their cleanliness by glaring wickedly at each and every one of them, and they retaliated against that with absolute confusion.

Charlie glared playfully back at Captain Rescue, accentuated by his bright bunny smile. “If you’re done being… weird, let’s get a move on.”

“Oh, believe you me. I’m done.”

“I highly doubt that,” Dr. Malevolent sneered.

Charlie turned the young girl. “Okay Shannon, how far to the allegedly haunted maintenance tunnels?”

“What a second! Nobody said anything about ghosts!” Captain Rescue clamored.

“Oh, so you’ll wade through a few hundred zombies, but ghosts,” Dr. Malevolent joked, “are just too much?”

“Zombies can be killed!”

“And ghosts… ghosts are already dead,” she argued.

Charlie cleared his throat repeated himself, “Shannon, how far to the allegedly haunted maintenance tunnels?”

Captain Rescue raised his hand.

Charlie shook his head, bunny ears flopping softly about. “What is it?”

“What does allegately mean?”

He chuckled at the pronunciation. “It means the tunnels probably aren’t haunted.”

“Oh!” Captain Rescue became suddenly alleviated. “Then what are we waiting for? Lead the way, kiddo!”

Their young escort stood in the doorway of the ice cream parlor, even though the door itself, and much of the frame, had gone missing. The heroes, drenched in pink sunlight, embarked upon the journey for the possibly—but unlikely—haunted tunnel system. Shannon darted down the road and Captain Rescue pointed in her direction. The gang stepped onto the street and marched with conviction, with purpose, with style. Just next to the parlor, an alley cut through a series of buildings. The young girl led them to the fire escape of a small three-story building, its ladder hanging freely a foot or two from the ground.

“We scavengers laid out a series of bridges across buildings to help us navigate the city,” she said as she pointed to the scaffolding.

“Here we go again.” Captain Rescue sighed as he approached the fire escape.

He was not exactly thrilled that he had to put his hands around yet another ladder that could conceivably harbor all sorts of foul substances. Captain Rescue glanced to his black gloves and quietly said a prayer for them that they might make it through this ordeal unscathed. Captain Rescue took a depth breath and then wrapped his fingers around the ladder’s rungs, paying little heed to the armies of germs crushed beneath his leather-laden hands.

Captain Rescue took another deep breath, jumped, and latched onto the rungs with both hands in an attempt to hoist himself up, but with the upper body strength of a toddler, he ended up kicking his legs as he dangled from the ladder. After a few seconds of futile thrashing, Captain Rescue felt a pair of hands clutch his ankles and hoist him up. He glanced over his shoulder to see Freight and everyone else glaring at him. At the behest of his friends, Captain Rescue began his ascent. Carefully, slowly, painstakingly, he eventually reached the top of the ladder and pulled himself onto the flat metal grate of the fire escape. Captain Rescue rolled onto his back as if he had just run a marathon. Almost immediately, he realized that underneath him swarms of microscopic organisms crawled around, infiltrating his every crack and crevice. Captain Rescue then devolved from an exhausted marathon runner to a turtle turned upside down. His arms and legs flailed about as the hero tried to knock the germs from him.

Freight reached to top of the ladder and then climbed onto the fire escape. He stood there staring down at the flailing Captain Rescue and then swiftly kicked him in the gut. The hero wrenched in pain and then jumped to his feet before rubbing his side and pouting. The others climbed aboard the metal ship and stared at each other; and then, it creaked. Their young escort had never had this many people on here at once.

Freight pointed upwards as the fire escape started to sway. “Race you guys to the top.” The giant man began to scale the steps as the framework shook.

“Hey!” Dr. Malevolent yelled up to him. “Maybe it would be best if we proceed slowly so this entire contraption doesn’t collapse!”

Freight ignored her as he galloped up the steps.

“Okay. Or we could rush up the stairs and hope we get to the top before we all die.”

“Much better!” he yelled down to her.

“I’m your boss now, you know that right?”

“Not until we get back to our own time and you start paying me, you’re not!”

She gripped the railing as the fire escape shook with the force of a hurricane, but all the commotion dissipated as Freight made his way to the roof and looked back down at the others in victory of the winning this single person race. The flimsy metal continued to jostle and groan as the rest of the group ascended its steps. Captain Rescue did his best to avoid letting any one foot touch the ground for an inordinate amount of time. The final one to reach the rooftop, the hero stared back at the grimy fire escape.

His mind began to focus intently on the dangerous hunk of metal. Captain Rescue’s eyes narrowed into a squint. If laser-vision were to ever make its way into his repertoire of superpowers spontaneously, now would be that time. His face grew red and the veins popped out of his head and neck. Just before rupturing every blood vessel in his face, he ceased his attempts at bestowing himself with super powers and just kicked the fire escape. Its retaliatory cry absorbed the ominous clang of a dolphin in its mechanized armor. Captain Rescue, not satisfied enough with the first, kicked it again—and that was the straw that broke the fire escape’s back. In a crash that must have drawn the attention of every patrol in a two-mile radius, the entire contraption collapsed like a folding chair. He stepped away from the ledge and whistled nonchalantly, hoping not to draw too much attention to himself.

“You imbecile!” Dr. Malevolent lashed out.

“They sure don’t make those like they used to,” he said with a shrug.

Shannon pointed to the wooden blank bridging this building with the next. “We should get moving before they come to investigate the noise.”

Dr. Malevolent stretched like an Olympic athlete, sprinted for the wooden bridge, and then vaulted completely over it before landing gracefully on the other side like a cat. She spun around and curtsied to the other building.

“Well, aren’t you a show off,” the bunny said as he jogged over the wooden plank, his single bunny ear flopping away.

Dr. Malevolent nodded. “There’s really nothing that I don’t excel at.”

“Well, you’ve yet to take over the world despite countless attempts.”

“Yes well… I excel at trying.”

Freight stepped onto the wooden bridge, which bowed underneath his weight. As if to display his manliness to the others, he waltzed across it and ignored the creaking and bowing as the bridge struggled to keep from snapping. He reached the other side and everyone turned and faced Captain Rescue, who still stood on the opposite building as he fought back his fear of heights.

Dr. Malevolent yelled to him, “Okay, scaredy cat, just don’t look down.”

While keeping his head craned towards the sky, Captain Rescue took a deep breath and stepped onto the plank. After just one inch, Captain Rescue began panting. He zigzagged down the bridge, walking until his toe could feel it disappear, at which point, he would correct and then meander in the opposite direction. The hero reached the end of the plank and stumbled onto the rooftop. He looked at everyone before him, their faces cross with annoyance, and then, from out of nowhere, a fist came and connected with his face. Captain Rescue collapsed as if the bones in his body had liquefied. Freight picked up the unconscious hero and slung him over his shoulder.

“I’m not going to wait five minutes every time we have to cross one of these bridges,” he said.

The gang heard a series of stomps from a dolphin and its mechanized suit below.

“Speaking of which,” Freight added, “we best get movin’.”

The next bridge took no notice of the light escort darting across it, or the super villain vaulting over it, and furthermore, it did mind the bunny rabbit’s plush feet tickling it. The bridge had a change of heart as upwards of five hundred pounds of Freight and his shoulder mounted ornament stepped aboard. Immediately, the bridge bent to its breaking point. In a fraction of a second, Freight looked down, looked at his shoulder, and then tossed Captain Rescue. The unconscious lump flew through the air, slowly twisting onto its stomach before it touched ground on the rooftop and skidded to a stop.

Everyone but the lump took a moment and listened to the commotion below as bigfoot and dolphins from all over converged on their position to investigate the crashed fire escape. It was a rusted piece of junk, so with any luck, their enemy would assume that it collapsed on its volition. As the gang peered at its remains, they realized the last thing any of them wanted was for one of those armored menaces to notice their watchful eyes, so they backed away from the roof’s ledge since. Chances were they could make it to the haunted maintenance tunnels before any of these patrols realized they were on the move.

Shannon led the time travelers from building to building and across the bridges between them. She and the other scavengers traversed the city in style, only stepping foot on the ground to search for supplies within the wrecked buildings before scurrying their way back to the rooftops through whatever means they could find—ladders, fire escapes, piles of trash stacked in a strategic manner. With any patrols presumably blocks away, she stopped at one of the buildings and turned to the others.

“The tunnels are just below us.” Shannon pointed to the ledge of the rooftop, where a drainage pipe led all the way to the ground. “After you.”

Freight dropped Captain Rescue to the ground, sat him up against the roof ledge, and started to slap him across the face.

After about thirty seconds, the slumbering hero awoke and glanced around. “Huh? What? What did I miss? What happened? Why does every inch of my body hurt?”

“Oh, you were just taking a wee little nap while I tossed you from building to building,” Freight said to him, “but now we’re here, so rise and shine.”

While Captain Rescue was busy coming to his senses, Shannon grabbed hold of the drainage pipe, jumped over the ledge, and then was out of sight.

The hero walked up to the pipe and giggled. “That looks fun.”

“By all means,” Dr. Malevolent said, “you go first.”

Captain Rescue shook the fog from his mind and answered, “I do believe I will.”

He tried to mimic Shannon’s flawless execution by latching onto the drainage pipe and then flinging himself over the rooftop’s ledge. A fading scream and a thunderous crash indicated that it had not gone quite right. Freight, Charlie, and Dr. Malevolent glanced over the ledge and could see Captain Rescue three stories below in a garbage filled dumpster.

“I’m okay!” he yelled up to them.

Charlie and Dr. Malevolent slid down the drain page pipe like professionals, even with the bunny’s plush fur making it impossible to grip. They stared up at Freight, wondering why he had not followed yet. Perhaps he was afraid. Perhaps drainage pipes were his weakness. Perhaps Dr. Malevolent had him right where she wanted him. Freight stared over the ledge as Captain Rescue climbed from the dumpster and waved up to him. He shrugged, jumped, and let the dumpster break his fall too. Freight climbed out, flexed, and they followed their young escort to the haunted maintenance tunnels’ entrance. Perhaps he really wasn’t afraid of anything.

Shannon backed away from the door. “You’re on your own from here on out! I’m not going any farther. Good luck!”

Without another word, their young escort darted down the street fearing that if she waited around any longer, something would come out of the depths and eat her soul. The haunted maintenance tunnels sat sandwiched between two buildings, inset into a narrow brick wall. The weathered label upon the doorway read “_a_nt_nance”, although at one time it was sure to have read Maintenance.

“I wonder who Aunt Nance is,” Captain Rescue said as he read the label to the best of his ability.

“She’s dead.” Dr. Malevolent said coldly as Captain Rescue whimpered and Charlie approached the door.

The bunny slipped a plush glove from his hand, grabbed hold of the doorknob, and then tugged at it, but the door refused to open. The years had not been kind to the door and its frame, and now the two had fused in an everlasting embrace of love—a bond not easily severed. Charlie decided to do something about this. Taking his other plush glove off and handing it to Dr. Malevolent, he grabbed the knob with both hands and placed his foot upon the doorframe. He gave the door a mighty tug, which broke their embrace and caused it to cry out as it opened and flooded the tunnels with light. The urban spelunkers scanned the entrance, checking for any ghosts that might be waiting to make their acquaintance, but the tunnels seemed unsurprisingly quiet. Then, without further ado, they entered the allegedly haunted maintenance tunnels.

Chapter 12: The “Allegately” Haunted Maintenance Tunnels

Proving that he had not been born in a barn, Captain Rescue closed the door behind him, engulfing the tunnels in darkness once more. From this point forward, the seconds passed slowly and the hero grew increasingly anxious. He was sure that ghosts would soon possess his body and force him to do the most ridiculous things, things more ridiculous than what he could manage on his own. Just prior to calling for an exorcism, Captain Rescue remembered something. He pushed his way through the others and unbuttoned a pouch along his utility belt.

“I’ve got just the thing to lighten up the place.” He took out a snake-like flashlight and flipped it on.

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “I’d hate to see the thing that’s compensating for.”

He swung around, shining the narrow beam of light into her eyes. “I really don’t like what you’re implying, ma’am. This is a sophisticated crime fighting tool.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s compact, easy to conceal, easy to use, and only takes one triple-a battery.”

Captain Rescue had not quite finished defending his pygmy flashlight when an even greater one engulfed its beam. While the two were busy bantering, Charlie had dug into his bottomless pouch for the heavy-duty flashlight he had stashed away. Captain Rescue stared at it and then at his miniature one. He discreetly switched his off and then slid it back into his utility belt.

Charlie’s flashlight cut through the darkness drenched tunnels, and from what he and the others could glean, they employed an excess of grey and silver. From both the concrete ground and walls to the thick metal pipes along the ceiling. While claustrophobic and a bit eerie, there did not seem to be any ghosts lurking about, but ghosts never seem to make themselves known right away.

“So, these are the infamous haunted tunnels we’ve heard so much about,” Charlie said as he scanned with his flashlight.

Captain Rescue scratched his head. “I don’t think I heard about them before we got here.”

“I was being facetious.”

“Fah-see-shush?”

“You are incorrigible.”

“In-cor—”

“Shut up,” the bunny interrupted. “These tunnels really don’t seem that bad.”

“They sure don’t,” Dr. Malevolent said as she marched forward.

After a childhood filled with desensitizing horror movies, the claustrophobic concrete and creaking pipes did not bother her in the least. On the other hand, as they snaked through the confusing tunnels, Captain Rescue gradually lost his nerve. He only had a loose grip on it in the first place. While the others navigated the tunnels with an air of nonchalance, Captain Rescue had to fight every step of the way to keep from becoming an emotional wreck. The farther the gang traveled, the more convinced he became that ghosts would soon come, steal his soul, and leave him a withered husk. He found each moment plagued with subtle sounds that overwhelmed his senses creeping in from every direction. A creak here, a whistle there, both morphed by his psyche into something far more sinister.

While Charlie kept the heavy-duty flashlight steady and let the light crawl through the tunnels, Captain Rescue tried his best to keep calm. His eyes stayed away from the scary darkened bits and focused only on the soothing light, but every so often, he would see a faint shape moving somewhere close by. Captain Rescue tried to convince himself that his senses were teasing him, picking on him, but he could not fight the sensation that something wicked would soon transpire.

After a few minutes, Captain Rescue saw what he thought was a sinister shadow snaking around one of the silvery pipes. He gasped and let out a screech. “Did you guys see that?!” He pointed towards the ceiling.

“All I see is an idiot making a fool of himself,” Dr. Malevolent snarled. “The only scary thing you’ll find in these tunnels is me if you don’t pull yourself together.”

With chattering teeth, Captain Rescue pointed at the stainless steel pipes while keeping his eyes fixated on what his mind tricked him into seeing. He followed them for some time, until he found himself impeded by a gigantic plush bunny that had stopped in front of him.

“Is it a ghost?!” Captain Rescue cried out.

Charlie gave a faint laugh. “Uh… no, I’m just not sure which way we need to go.”

Captain Rescue glanced over the bunny’s shoulder. The forked path ahead gave no hint which way to proceed. He began to whimper. “We’re lost! We’re hopelessly lost! We’re never going to make it out of here alive!”

Freight pointed at the fork, lending his opinion. “The pipes only follow one of the two paths. Let’s follow them.”

Charlie shrugged. “I guess that’s a good a plan as any.”

“But the pipes,” Captain Rescue said softly, eerily, “they are haunted.”

“And if we get lost in these tunnels and you die, you’ll be the one haunting them.”

“Onward!” Captain Rescue commanded, “I will not die down here! Not today! Not Ever!”

“Now that’s the spirit,” Charlie said as he pressed forth down the stainless steel endowed path.

The gang kept quiet as the bunny rabbit and his flashlight led them on. The tunnels called out to Captain Rescue, causing him to see ghosts wherever he could. He fought these temptations to the best of his meager ability. They had been in here nearly an hour, and aside from Captain Rescue’s incessant ghost hunting, they had not seen a single bit of evidence towards any kind of paranormal activity, but all of that that was about to change. Captain Rescue watched Charlie’s flashlight briefly illuminate a humanoid form going down a hallway.

“What was that!?” he cried out.

Dr. Malevolent snorted. “Here we go again.”

“No, I saw it too,” Charlie shined his flashlight into the hallway as it passed on their right, but the blurry form had vanished.

“A ghost!” Captain Rescue exclaimed.

“Don’t be silly,” Dr. Malevolent scoffed, “ghosts don’t exist.”

“That’s still up for debate!”

“Debate it all you want, if ghosts exist we would have found some kind of substantial evidence by now.”

“I’m sure you didn’t believe in bigfoot either… until they captured and tried to execute us!” Captain Rescue snapped at her.

Dr. Malevolent growled at his unexpected use of logic.

They continued on thinking that what they had seen was only a manifestation of Captain Rescue’s anxiety rubbing off on the others; not that they would ever admit it openly, but these tunnels were the epitome of creepy. Even with Dr. Malevolent’s desensitizing childhood, she found them unnerving, and Freight could feel the inkling of anxiety creeping through his spine, but his life spent bottling up anything that might not be considered manly meant that was just where stayed—bottled up. Regardless of their mental states, the adventurers’ adventure would soon take an unexpected turn, for a certain kind of spirit infested these tunnels, just not the ones they were expecting. Just ahead, a motionless figure stood in their path.

They stopped dead and Charlie called out to it, “Hello? We thought we were alone down here.”

The figure just stood there with its back to them as it twitched subtly.

“Is it a ghost?” Captain Rescue asked quietly.

The bunny rabbit shrugged as they neared the motionless figure, which wore a suede jacket and dark grey khakis, moth holes and dirt stains covering both. This person’s greasy and matted hair concealed much of its face and neck. Stench lines practically emanated from him or her; they had clearly spent the last few years hiding out down here.

“Hello?” Charlie asked again.

Sluggishly, the figure rotated. They noticed right off the bat that its face was missing the lower portion of its jaw, and a hunk of its tongue hung loosely from the back of its throat. It gurgled at them, brains spinning within its pale white eyes.

“They’re like chips!” Captain Rescue squealed.

“You can’t eat just one?” Charlie asked as he stepped backwards and the lumbering corpse shuffled towards them.

“Wait,” Captain Rescue stopped, “you eat zombies?”

“Nevermind.”

Freight grabbed his shotgun to deal with this zombie the way God intended, by plastering its brains across the hallway, when Charlie pushed the barrel down and said, “We don’t wanna make any noise, what if there are others nearby?”

Freight nodded and tossed Courtney into the air, letting her flip end over end, and then in one fluid motion, he snatched the barrel and crashed the end of it into the zombie’s soft-shelled skull. The corpse moaned and lurched forward just as Freight whacked it once more. It grew silent and twitched until he pulled the shotgun out of its cranium, at which point it fell to the ground. Freight nodded in approval of his actions, and then walked up to the corpse. Using his mammoth foot, he pushed the zombie aside as it left a trail of thick, congealed blood.

After kneeling down and using the zombie’s dirty suede jacket to clean his beloved, Freight bellowed, “HOW I MISSED THESE LOVELY THINGS.”

“It’s like a switch you just turn on, isn’t it? One minute you’re a rational upstanding citizen and then next you’re a crazy madman.”

Freight cracked his knuckles. “THERE’S JUST SOMETHING ABOUT THE SMELL OF BRAINS ON CONCRETE.”

“Well, I guess you could argue that zombies are a little easier to handle than semi intelligent apes with lasers.”

Freight nodded. “AND BOY DO I HATE MONKEYS.” He pushed ahead of Charlie and then turned around for a moment, snatched the flashlight from his hands, and finished by saying, “I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE.”

Charlie sighed and grabbed his flashlight back. “I’m not letting you take anything anywhere while we still have subtlety on our side. I don’t think any of the zombies know we’re here yet.”

“EXCEPT THAT ONE,” Freight said as he pointed towards the corpse lying on the ground, whose finger still twitched spontaneously.

“Yes, except that one. Let’s keep moving. It’s probably a stupid idea to stay in one place for long.”

Charlie’s grasp of the situation was second to none. He knew that while the urban spelunkers had not made much of a splash yet, they had certainly given off a distinctive stench known only to the nose of a zombie, a smell that signaled that fresh flesh worth munching was nearby. The bunny rabbit kept the slow but steady pace, careful not to make too much noise, but also careful not to dawdle for an undue amount of time. With each nook and cranny, he took a moment to inspect it with his flashlight before pressing forth. The seconds without a further encounter turned into minutes, and then those minutes piled atop one another like a heap of zombies. Perhaps that one corpse was just a fluke, some leftover from a certain outbreak a few years back.

“You know,” Captain Rescue began, “it’s probably a good sign that we haven’t seen another zombie. Maybe there’s just the one!”

“Yeah,” Dr. Malevolent laughed, “or the zombies are clustered so tightly together that when we do finally find another, he’ll be with fifty of his friends.”

“Why do you have to be so negative?”

“To offset your positivity, of course.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Captain Rescue pouted.

“That’s just too bad.”

Charlie pointed to a specific red pipe along the ceiling. “Let’s follow that red one there.”

“Why the red one?” Dr. Malevolent questioned.

“I don’t know, seems like a good idea.”

Dr. Malevolent just shrugged. “Okay! I guess the worst-case scenario here is that we get hopelessly lost. Hopelessly lost and then eaten. Lead on, rabbit!”

Led by the red pipe, they turned right down a hallway. Just ahead and smack dab in the middle of their path, a small group of six zombies had sat down to play Go Fish together; only they had eaten their cards, which left them hungry for more palatable dishes such as brains and flesh. Captain Rescue and his friends had just those delectable treats inside their fleshy vessels. Charlie stopped and motioned for everyone to back up discreetly. He hoped that the undead had not sensed them, but if the undead were good at one thing, it would be sensing the faintest hint of human flesh upon the air. They had already started the slow process of rising to their feet.

Charlie leaned over and whispered into Freight’s ear, “Do your thing, but try to keep it quiet.”

The gigantic man smiled, cracked his neck, and then swaggered towards the zombies as they got to their feet and commenced their shuffle towards him. One zombie instinctively led the others, and they soon fell into a triangular formation. The lead zombie outstretched its arms as it neared Freight, but before the zombie had a chance to realize what happened, the muscle bound man tore out its neck, leaving its head dangling from a loose connection of flesh and bone. After a few seconds spent comprehending its headless state, the zombie crumpled to the ground. His buddies crouched beside him and poked the zombie inquisitively before erupting into mournful moans for their lost Go Fisher. Freight wasted no time in grabbing the nearest zombie by the head, lifting it clean off the ground, and then slamming it cranium-first into the concrete wall. The zombie’s head popped like a grape, spreading its gooey brains all over. Freight released his grip, leaving the zombie glued to the concrete by means of its brain matter.

The newly promoted lead zombie looked at its two snuffed friends, went into a rage, and shuffled as quickly as it could towards Freight. It threw out its arms and lunged forward just as the giant took a single step backwards, avoiding the zombie as it tripped and stumbled to the ground. It lifted its head just as the supreme zombie slayer’s mammoth foot came crashing down on top of it. The corpse twitched spastically as Freight ground his heel into its skull until it grew still.

The three remaining zombies crossed gazes and pieced the situation together. While this man was definitely well beyond their capabilities to eat, they would be stupid not to try anyway. Freight was an awfully big slab of meat, one that they could have feasted on for days. All three zombies, as if somehow coordinating as a team, lunged forward in hopes of overpowering the giant man, but this giant man had the strength of five not-so-dead men. In the briefest of seconds, Freight kicked the center zombie backwards, grabbed the heads of the other two, and smashed them together like a pair of rotten eggs. Malodorous brain matter splattered all over the narrow maintenance tunnels as the lifeless bodies fell together and slid to the ground as one.

The last remaining zombie rose to its feet and moaned; its howls loosely translated to, “You bastard, who am I going to play Go Fish with now!”

Freight, proving he had somehow become fluent in zombie, looked at Charlie as the zombie lumbered towards him. “YOU GOT ANY CARDS?”

The bunny shrugged, opened up his pouch, and dug around for a deck. Soon, he pulled one out, gently opened it up, and withdrew a single card, which he handed to Freight. The giant man took aim and then launched it at the undead creature. The playing card embedded into its skull as the zombie stumbled backwards. It twitched and took another step forward just as another card found its way into the zombie’s skull, causing it to teeter faintly before collapsing atop one of its friends.

“Where would we be without you,” Charlie said as he and he others tiptoed around the corpses.

“DEAD!” Freight bellowed.

Dr. Malevolent knelt down and investigated the carnage. “You appeared to have done some… practicing since we last fought these things.”

“MAYBE.”

“What exactly did you practice on?”

“SMALL ANIMALS.”

“Really?”

“NO.”

Dr. Malevolent placed her hand over her heart and sighed. She may disregard the safety of human beings, but innocent little animals were another story. Every weekend she was not fighting off a zombie outbreak, or fighting to get back from the future, she volunteered at animal shelters—in disguise of course, she would never let anyone know of her soft streak for innocent animals. Her enemies would certainly use that information against her.

Charlie glanced up at the pipe-lined ceiling and remembered his plan to follow the red ones. He left the corpses behind and pressed forth, but after thirty seconds or so, a wrinkle in this faultless plan presented itself. Just beyond where Freight left those lovely desecrated corpses, the path forked in two. Both paths had pipes along their ceiling and none of which were red.

Dr. Malevolent pointed to the pipework. “Well, there goes that plan. What say you now, great leader?”

Charlie lifted his flashlight and shined it down the left tunnel, revealing more pipes and more grey concrete. He shined it down the other tunnel and illuminated the few dozen zombies crammed into it.

“Let’s go the other way,” he said calmly.

Without wasting much time, they headed down the zombieless tunnel. Behind, dozens of the undead creatures had roused from their idle loitering and were now headed straight for them. To counteract this advance, the urban spelunkers put a little spring in their step. As they all knew by now, zombies were damned slow, so Charlie had absolutely no problems keeping the pace as he led the charge. Freight closed in behind, occasionally looking over his shoulder in anticipation of the chance to blow some undead to smithereens. Already, the moans had begun to fade and the giant man let out a disappointed grumble. How was he going to kill any zombies if he and the others were busy going in the opposite direction; these flesh-eating monstrosities would have to alter their strategy to have any hopes on catching these scrumptious sacks of fresh meat. Coincidentally, as the heroes fled around a sharp corner, the zombies proved that is just what they did. A mess of them now moaned and shuffled straight for them.

With a manly whine, Freight begged permission to go ape shit on these corpses. Charlie began to nod, but before his chin fell, Freight adorned Courtney and commenced the slaughter. Within a matter of seconds, he had obliterated a large hunk of zombies in their path, but more quickly took their place. Freight just kept shooting. Zombies just kept dying. And more just kept appearing with no end in sight. Hiding within the group, Captain Rescue decided to pull his weight. The hero pushed his way forward and eventually stood right next to Freight. After smiling at the not-so-gentle giant, he waited a few seconds for Freight to reciprocate, but when he did not, Captain Rescue gave a subtle frown and then went into his utility belt. He withdrew a golf ball sized white capsule and then launched at the impending dead. The capsule exploded and spewed white paint all over the zombies.

Charlie shined his flashlight at them. “What did that accomplish?”

“Turn out your light,” the hero replied excitedly.

Charlie flipped off his flashlight and the zombies glowed brightly.

Captain Rescue added, “Now we can see them in the dark!”

The bunny flipped the light on and off a few times, enjoying the show. “I suppose that has its uses.”

Freight took a moment’s break from slaughtering those already dead and looked down at his shotgun. He petted the barrel and shouted, “YOU MISSED THIS DIDN’T YOU.”

The shotgun went off into a cluster of corpses as if replying.

“I KNEW IT.”

Charlie looked at Freight’s shotgun and said, “We’re lucky Freight doesn’t leave home without that thing.”

“THAT THING IS MY WIFE.”

“Why does it matter?” Captain Rescue asked.

Freight’s decimation of zombie after zombie continued as Charlie replied, “’Cause we’re, for the most part, unarmed.”

“Well, we’re superheroes, we don’t need guns.”

“What are you going to do… glow-in-the-dark them to death?”

“If that’s what it takes!” Captain Rescue cheered enthusiastically as he tossed another capsule at the zombies.

“And besides, you seemed just fine with that laser rifle.”

Captain Rescue said, through more exploding zombies brought on by Freight’s skillful execution, “Laser rifles aren’t guns, and besides, I didn’t even need it. I’ve grown as a hero.”

“Really, how?”

After wiping away a severed hand that flew into his suit, Captain Rescue began his speech: “The dolphins! These are trying times for humanity, and if we wish to survive the oncoming storm of dolphins, we must band together and hone our skills. We must fight the beast at its source; we must crush it before it crushes us.”

Charlie interrupted him before he could be allowed to ramble any longer, “’Hone our skills’? Really, go kill one zombie, just one.”

“Certainly,” Captain Rescue said as an eyeball smacked him in the face. He stretched briefly and then leaned over, ready to sprint head first into the dwindling horde of zombies.

Charlie grabbed his cape. “I was kidding, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Dr. Malevolent, who had been doing her best to knock the occasional zombie head off with her inanimate carbon rod, leaned in towards Charlie and Captain Rescue and said, “By all means, if you want to get yourself killed, be my guest.”

Freight cut in, “THAT WON’T BE NECESSARY.”

As the three observers followed close behind the machine of a man tearing through heaps of zombies, Dr. Malevolent began to seriously wonder how on Earth he became so much more proficient a killer. Not that he wasn’t the last time they did this dance, but this was simple ridiculous. She did not recall any other zombie outbreaks since the last, but he seemed to be a tenfold version of himself, and that was a lot of Freight.

Dr. Malevolent pressed her heel into the twitching head of zombie. “We need to get you some kind of costume. You’re basically a superhero now.”

Little did Dr. Malevolent know, that’s just what this lumberjack ensemble was supposed to be—a costume. Freight spent hours one afternoon hunting down the clothes he wanted in the fabric he wanted in just the color he wanted. Sure, the overalls and red plaid shirt made him look like a lumberjack, but for some crazy reason, that’s what he wanted, and nobody stood in the way of this man and what he wanted. Trains such as Freight do have a hard time coming to a stop, and Freight never stopped.

They pushed forward as the train did all the work, and the others stood by in astonishment. He cut down zombie after zombie as if they were mere trees and he, a mere lumberjack. Freight operated like clockwork; in twelve seconds, he would unload Courtney, and then in another six seconds he would grab shells from the magical ammunition factory in his pocket, load her up, and get back to work. These six seconds of downtime, however, were more than enough for the zombies to advance just a little closer, and, as the minutes ticked by, the narrow maintenance tunnels became even narrower. Captain Rescue did his part, though, and flung capsule after capsule. That way, if the lights went out, they could still see the advancing hordes, even if the one and only flashlight had heavy-duty batteries that would probably last the rest of the decade.

Before Freight and his shotgun could have too much fun, a zombie stumbled out from the horde, crashed into Charlie, and knocked the flashlight clean out of his hands. In slow motion, the tip smacked into the concrete and the lights went out. Instantly, glow-in-the-dark zombies illuminated the tunnel—an oddly beautiful sight. Awe-inspiringly stylistic zombie slaying ensued for a few moments as Charlie snatched the flashlight from the ground and gave it a few good whacks until its beam of light soothed their hearts once more.

They pushed farther and the nearly decommissioned flashlight caught of glimpse of something promising. Between two of the brainless beasts, Charlie noticed a heavy metal doorway with a thick bulky handle. While zombies were certainly known to burst through almost any doorway, this one appeared unscathed by zombie claws. Charlie called to the others, but the moans of shuffling zombies drowned him out. Finally, he pulled their attention with a ferocious bunny yell and yanked open the door. After the others rushed through, Charlie slammed it shut over the fingers of a dozen zombies, slicing them clean off. As the bunny twisted the handle closed, the zombies began slamming against the door, demanding that their fingers be returned at once.

Charlie motioned for the hallway behind them, suggesting they get out of here lickity split. As the bunny headed down the corridor, Freight stayed behind and eyed the door intently. Charlie sighed, grabbed his arm, and away they went. The mammoth man let the bunny drag him in a most dramatic fashion as he extended his arm towards the door and reached out to the zombies behind it—longing for them as a fat kid longed for clichés. Freight felt Charlie’s grip loosen and he looked forward. The hallway concluded with a small grey concrete room that had a generator humming in the center; a dead end. Excitement came to Freight as he realized fate would soon reunite him with his long lost zombie cousins.

Charlie turned the room upside down looking for another exit, a ventilation shaft, a ladder, anything. They were trapped and the bunny kicked the generator in defiance. “Well, now we’re screwed.”

Captain Rescue fell to his knees. “We’re gonna die down here! The zombies are going to eat us alive.”

“THERE’S ONLY ONE WAY OUTTA THIS,” Freight bellowed, “THE WAY WE CAME IN.”

Dr. Malevolent laughed hard. “Very poignant words, you should do motivation speeches.”

Freight ignored her and began his slow swagger back down the hallway, where dozens of zombies banged on the door to let them in. He would give him what they desired—more than they desired—and he kissed the tip of his shotgun wife for good luck and, just in case, goodbye. As his swagger continued, the tunnel appeared longer and longer while the door grew farther and farther away. Freight reached his destination and everything returned to normal. He cracked a smirk and leaned in for the handle, but as he did so, the banging of angry zombies abruptly ceased.

With a curious eyebrow furl, Freight drew his hand away just as Captain Rescue and the others came up from behind. The hero ran up to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening for the zombies. After a few seconds, he pulled away and said to Freight, “Did you kill them already?”

Freight frowned, said, “NO!” and then reached forward to open the door.

Captain Rescue swatted his hand away. “We can’t just open the door! What if they’re out there waiting for us?”

Freight shoved him aside. “THAT’S JUST WHAT I INTEND TO FIND OUT!” He grabbed hold of the handle and started to open the door just as something on the other side began to knock.

“What is going on!?” Captain Rescue cried as he smacked his palms against the side of his head and grabbed at his hair.

Freight rested the shotgun on his shoulder, lifted his fist to the door, and gave three knocks back. Whoever was on the other side then gave three in return. Freight just shrugged. Then, with Courtney at the ready, he grabbed hold of the handle, gave it a twist, and pulled the door open. Surprising them all, there stood Stubbs with a huge gash down the center of his head and duct tape sealing his midsection. His zombie brethren stood motionless around him and paid no attention to the meat bags on the other side of the metal door.

“Stubbs!” Captain Rescue exclaimed, “I missed you!”

Stubbs let out a hoarse laugh. “I don’t blame you. I’m one of a kind.”

Freight decided now was not the time to reacquaint with old friends. He pointed to the zombies all around. “WHY AREN’T THEY TRYING TO EAT US?”

Stubbs shrugged. “I told them not to.”

Dr. Malevolent stared him down. “And how did you manage that?”

“I don’t know. I guess you could call me their queen. One day I saw one of them about to kill itself, so jokingly I told it to stop… and it did.”

“So, they’re completely harmless now?” Charlie asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t try to hug any of them,” the zombie replied as Charlie grabbed Captain Rescue and yanked him away from one of the zombies.

All the sudden, Dr. Malevolent felt her pocket begin to twitch. She pulled out the lamp just as orange smoke started to spill from it. Soon, Greg the Genie, wearing a mechanic uniform with a dirty rag in his hand, floated before them.

“Nice outfit,” Dr. Malevolent said to the genie.

“Yes, I’m just trying to show that there are some of us here who actually get things done,” Greg replied as he floated through Stubbs and noticed the unferocious undead. “Well,” he added, inspecting them, “that’s just weird.” He glanced to Stubbs, “You did this?”

“Yeah, kind of. They just listen to me.”

“Well, that’s dandy.”

“Now, would someone please fill me in?” the zombie requested.

Dr. Malevolent took a deep breath. “We come from three years in the past, brought here by accident thanks to Captain Numbnuts here. We’re trying to find a way to destroy the gigantic tower nearby that’s preventing us from going home. Once we get there, we’re going to keep this future from ever happening.”

“Wait,” the zombie began, “so if you succeed in your mission, all of this will have never happened?”

“Yes,” Dr. Malevolent said shortly. She expected that the zombie would give them some trouble now that he knew they were trying to scrub him from existence.

“Well okay, the last three years have sucked anyway.”

Dr. Malevolent smiled. That went better than expected.

Charlie grabbed Captain Rescue’s cape and tugged him away from the stagnant zombies once more. “If only this one would listen.”

He swatted the bunny away. “But they’re so interesting, standing there not trying to eat me.”

“Yes well, if you get too close they might change their minds,” Stubbs warned.

An idea dawned on Dr. Malevolent. “You know… we’d have a far easier time saving the world if we had an army of zombies at our finger tips.”

Charlie nodded while his solitary bunny ear bounced around playfully. “That’s a very good point. We would have a much easier time saving the world with you at our side.”

“I think I’d rather spend my last few hours of existence saying goodbye to these fair tunnels,” the zombie replied.

Freight cracked his neck. “THAT’S PERFECTLY FINE, WE DON’T NEED YOU OR YOUR SMELLY FRIENDS.”

“Do you know what this means, though?” Captain Rescue said, “Stubbs here will appear just when the situation is most dire. Just when we think we’re all dead, Stubbs will come out of nowhere riding a goat and be our savior.”

Dr. Malevolent could not help but to laugh. “A goat you say?”

“Yes, a goat would be most majestic,” Captain Rescue nodded.

The zombie chuckled. “Well, until that moment comes, you should carry on with this mission of yours. I’ve never kept them from eating something this long. Not sure how long it will last.”

“What’s the quickest way out of here?” Charlie asked the zombie queen.

Cracking a minor smile, Stubbs pointed left down the hallway. A few yards from the door originally thought to be the entrance to their everlasting tomb, a ladder ascended to the surface. The zombie closed his eyes for a moment as the whites still showed through the hole-riddled lids. Within moments, his brethren started shuffling together, clearing a path from the doorway to the ladder. Stubbs nodded at the adventurers, stepped out of the doorway, and motioned for the exit.

“Before I retreat back into my lamp for some much needed work, there’s something I need to take care of,” Greg said to the bunny rabbit.

“And what is that?” he inquired.

The genie laughed, snapped its fingers, and made Charlie’s severed ear spontaneously reappear.

“You are a godsend.”

“It’s all part of my master plan to enslave you pitiful humans through random acts of kindness.”

“It’s working,” the bunny replied as he inspected its ear.

“I can tell; it’s no wonder you let hairy apes and dolphins take over.”

“Hey!” Captain Rescue yelled, “They have lasers! We don’t have lasers.”

Stubbs coughed. “Flesh eating zombies. Exit. Go.”

“Well,” Charlie said, “I guess this is goodbye.”

Freight jabbed his index finger against the zombie’s chest. “COUNT YOURLESS LUCKY I DIDN’T KILL ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS.”

He raised a fist to the motionless corpses as he marched for the ladder. The zombies paid no attention to him and just stared blankly into each other’s pale white eyes. He climbed the ladder and shoved open the manhole at the top while the others said their warm goodbyes.

“Farewell, old friend!” Captain Rescue said to Stubbs, “May we meet again... when you save our butts!” He waved at the zombies as he ascended the ladder upwards.

“See you later, stinky,” Dr. Malevolent said without a hint of emotion as she ran up the ladder.

Charlie just shrugged to the zombie as he left the maintenance tunnels behind and climbed up the ladder. He crawled through the manhole and closed it shut just as the zombies below resumed their symphony of moans.

Chapter 13: They’re Like the Other Food Group

The maintenance tunnels funneled the gang straight into a certain urinal cake factory, one Captain Rescue identified immediately since he built his super-secret base directly beneath it. Within moments, he realized that if he was not careful, Dr. Malevolent might stumble upon the entrance. Then, she would learn all his dirty crime fighting secrets—all three of them. The six-year-old computer with an internet connection; the cabinet of crime fighting gadgets, bought with said computer; and then his butler, Alfredo, who actually did most of the crime-fighting legwork.

Captain Rescue’s thoughts then turned to that old friend. Was Alfredo dead? Would his shriveled up corpse no longer offer the hero lemonade and sugar cookies? The tears welled in his eyes, but he found solace in the fact that there was always the chance Alfredo survived the dolphin occupation. Perhaps the safe room kept him safe and sound. Captain Rescue thought about that for a moment. Did they even have a safe room? He couldn’t remember. Are they easy to make? Are they cheap? These were questions that he would have find the answers to when he got back to his own time.

Then again, what if natural causes killed Alfredo? He was old, after all. Captain Rescue’s mind wandered as he contemplated mortality, and then he laughed aloud at the thought of Alfredo’s skeleton standing upright with an apron hanging over his forearm and a platter resting upon the tips of his whitewashed fingers. Captain Rescue realized the enjoyment being had from Alfredo’s hypothetical death—and sighed.

“What are you laughing and then sighing about?” Dr. Malevolent questioned.

“Uh… nothing,” he said in a blatant attempt not to draw attention to Alfredo, or the secret base beneath their feet.

“Oh, so you’re just prone to randomly laughing and then sighing for no apparent reason?” She paused for a moment and then added, “Oh, who am I kidding. You’re practically insane; of course you’re prone to it.”

“Yeah, that’s it… I’m insane.”

His brain and he then had an argument about whether Dr. Malevolent could find his hideout in the past if she discovered it here in the future. Captain Rescue’s reasoning was that since the past and the future were two different things, with two entirely different locations, she could not possibly find the hideout in their own time. His brain tried as it might to convince the hero that these thoughts really did border on sheer insanity, and it eventually showed him the way by pointing out that, by Captain Rescue’s logic, knowing where his secret base was in the past meant not knowing where it was the future. That shut him right up.

Ironically, the entrance was not even in this building, or on factory grounds. The hidden road leading to his secret base was about a mile away underneath a rarely used back road. Captain Rescue did not quite comprehend the mechanics that made it work, but whenever he pressed a button within his crime-fighting vehicle, The Rescue Machine, the road would lower. This ramp would lead him into the underground tunnel, and the best part was that it hardly broke down—most of the time.

Shafts of light cut through the chunks missing from the urinal cake factory’s roof, giving the crates all around a beautiful pink glow while a certain spire loomed in the background. The treasures held within these boxes could be summed up in two very appropriate words: urinal cakes, boxes upon boxes upon boxes of urinal cakes; urinal cakes of many different sizes, colors, smells, and compositions. It was a urinal cake fan’s wet dream—all one of them, and he just so happened to be right here. As inconspicuously as possible, Freight set down his shotgun, grabbed a few handfuls of urinal cakes, and shoved them into his pockets.

“What are you doing?” Dr. Malevolent asked him.

Freight looked like a kid whose mother had caught him doing something wrong. “I… uh… um… yeah.”

“Did you just pocket a bunch of those cakes?” she teased.

“I thought maybe they’d come in handy at some point.”

“How on Earth could they ever come in handy?”

Freight shrugged. “You never know when you’ll need a good cake.”

“I’m pretty certain the answer to that question is: never.”

Freight just glared at her and then resumed rummaging through the cakes.

“Now,” Dr. Malevolent turned away from the cake fanatic, “Let’s figure out where this supply depot is so we can blow it up.”

“Well, it’s certainly not underground,” Captain Rescue said with a forced and awkward laugh just before his face adorned a glare that could frighten children.

Dr. Malevolent just frowned at him. She had a hard time taking anything he said seriously, even these subtle hints towards the location of his secret base.

“We’re not going to find it standing around here like this,” Charlie said before looking at Freight, “or digging through boxes of urinal cakes.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good,” he replied with bulged pockets.

“Yeah,” Captain Rescue exclaimed, “let’s get out of here!” His mind was other places anyway. The more time they spent here, the bigger the chance Dr. Malevolent would stumble upon his super-secret base, or that he would give it away—their relationship just was not ready to take that step. As it stood now, she would likely try to blow it and the hero to smithereens. From the back of the factory amongst the urinal cake stocks, Captain Rescue made for the door, not realizing that there was no reason he should even know where it was.

“Where are you going?” Dr. Malevolent said as her condescending tone cut through the air like a bullet.

“To the door, where else?”

“Oh. How do you know where it is?”

Captain Rescue panicked. “I... uh… I used to work here when I was a kid.” He kept walking, hoping she would not linger on it.

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “Aww, cute little Captain Rescue tending to the urinal cakes.”

“That’s me” he said, walking as briskly as he could, “cute little Captain Rescue loving his urinal cakes!”

As Freight jumped in, a wave of relief overcame Captain Rescue, “You love urinal cakes too?!”

“Why yes, yes I do,” he lied, “they are the most wonderful things in existence. I used to spent hours as a child stacking them as high as they would go.”

Freight’s words cracked, “Ah yes, urinal cake castles, those were the best of times.” He then groaned, and a few seconds later added, “No Courtney, those times pale in comparison to how wonderful you and I have it!” Freight slid his shotgun out of his belt and gave the barrel a loving pat.

Continuing with his brisk pace, Captain Rescue turned a corner, and down the hall, the lobby awaited. He grew increasingly anxious as the double doors neared, their shattered glass jagged and sharp like this dolphin driven apocalypse. The sooner he got out of here, the sooner he and the others would find hairy bigfoot and not-so-hairy dolphins to distract them from the urinal cake factory and his hidden secret base, the hub of operations, the most important aspect of his hero lifestyle. If it were to ever fall, Captain Rescue would be doomed, absolutely doomed.

The hero could feel his flushed skin and the perspiration drenching his armpits. He kept his back to the others, hoping that once he made it outside into the cool pink air, he would be able to hide his anxiety. Captain Rescue entered the lobby and moments later he kicked open the front door, shattering the glass even further. He rushed outside panting like a marathon runner who had just completed the big race dressed in a hazmat suit. As the others came out of the urinal cake factory, Captain Rescue stood straight up and tried his best to act nonchalant as the nervous sweat dripped from his brow.

Dr. Malevolent took one look at the hero and then let loose a hearty laugh. Then, like a tour guide, she pointed towards one of the roads. “And if you follow that road, you can find the secret entrance to Captain Rescue’s hideout!”

“What!? How did you know about that?” he replied with a childish whine.

“Well, you’re not exactly subtle. I just followed you one day, and there it was.”

“It’s destroyed, you destroyed it didn’t you?!”

“When would I have had the chance to blow up your secret hideout?”

Captain Rescue’s eyes practically rolled into the back of his head as he pondered the question.

After about thirty seconds, Dr. Malevolent shook her head and laughed. “See, we’ve been together for the last few days.”

He glanced at her. “A few days? It’s been THREE YEARS!”

She cringed. “Three years? It’s only been two days for us.”

“But you could have blown up my super-secret base at any point in the last three years.”

“Do you have any comprehension of how time travel even works?”

With an utterly offended look, Captain Rescue cried out, “Of course I do, I’ve seen Back to the Future!”

Freight stepped between them, a cross look upon his face. “Would you two stop flirting for one second so we can save the damned world?”

Captain Rescue threw up his hand. “Wait! I just have one last question.”

She let out a quick sigh. “What is it?”

“How come you haven’t stormed my secret base and killed me yet?”

“Because, believe it or not, despite my tyrannical malevolence, I have honor. I’m not going to just sneak in there at the dead of night and slit your throat. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh.” Captain Rescue rubbed his throat. “I guess that’s admirable. You must not really hate me that much.”

“No, believe you me, I hate you. I just want to watch your suffer for an inordinate amount of time before you finally keel over. It brings me joy.”

“So, you’d miss me when I’m gone?!”

“I would miss the frequent attempts at killing you, not the person. But we digress; let’s get a move on so we can save the world.” She looked at Charlie. “Now where’s this supply depot we’re going to rig to blow.”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t have a clue. It’s gotta be somewhere close by though, and I’m sure it’s hard to miss,” Charlie replied with a shrug.

They followed the factory’s sidewalk to the bent and twisted front gates. Some urinal cake fanatic must have come bursting through them in search of his or her favorite snack. Outside the gates, the road split either left or right with a vacant lot directly across the street. Captain Rescue, ready as ever to save the world, tried to decide which direction to lead the small band of time-travelers. To his right, the road that led towards his super-secret base, something he certainly wanted to steer clear of. Despite her fond words, Captain Rescue still felt the distinct possibility that if Dr. Malevolent came anywhere near secret base, she would still try to blow it sky high—or as sky high as someone could blow something so far underground.

With that off limits, Captain Rescue looked down the opposite road, if it could even be considered one. Some dolphin-born force of mayhem had split it in two. From inside this road-gash, a peculiar pink broth boiled upwards, spilling onto the road and sizzling as it instantly boiled away. As inviting as the road might have been, Captain Rescue decided against it. He was no fan of boiling pink mixtures.

He pointed to the vacant lot beckoning him and shouted to his friends, “Onward!”

Captain Rescue pranced across the street trying in his own unique manner to be as subtle as possible, like a ninja. It did not work well. The hero had about as much in common with a ninja as an elephant did. He made it to the lot and dove headfirst into tall grass that had not seen a mower in well over three years. As his cohorts crossed the street, Captain Rescue slid his hands through the undergrowth, spread it open, and then stuck his head out, spying on them from afar.

Dr. Malevolent strutted up to him and asked, “What are you doing down there?”

“I am being vigilant. You never know where the enemy might be lurking.”

“If they’re lurking anywhere, it would probably be somewhere on the other side of this lot, but congratulations on vigilantly watching us cross the street.”

Captain Rescue slinked back into undergrowth and disappeared entirely. After a few seconds, he popped up reinvigorated and pretending that the last two minutes had never happened. He spun around and then waved over his shoulder, ordering the troops onward. With one foot forward, Captain Rescue began the march. After about thirty paces, he halted and glanced over his shoulder, but to the hero’s dismay, his army only mocked him from afar.

“We must stick together while we traverse the Field of Death!” he yelled to them. “There is no telling what lurks within this grass, our lives could be at stake!”

The others started to move forward while they laughed at the boisterous Captain Rescue. He stared back at his army and silently urged them to pick up the pace before something grabbed him from the underbrush and dragged him away.

He jerked violently, jumped to his side, and yelled, “I think I felt something grab my leg!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t your shoe?” Dr. Malevolent called across the field, trying her best to sound genuinely concerned.

Captain Rescue looked down. “Oh, I think you might be right.”

The others trekked across the Field of Death while the hero kept a watchful eye to the ground, on the lookout for anything snaking through the grass, be it a snake, a dolphin, or his shoe. Captain Rescue, head still pointed downwards, felt someone crash into him. The hero glanced up to see Freight grinning down at him.

“I think we’re safe for now,” Captain Rescue said authoritatively as he paid no attention to Freight’s attempt at playing the bully.

Dr. Malevolent threw her arms into the air. “Oh great Captain Rescue, where would we be without your leadership? I hazard to guess!”

“Would you keep your voice low?” Charlie hushed her. “We’re practically in the middle of a war zone; we don’t want them to know we’re here.”

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “Oh don’t worry, I’m sure if there were any of those timefaring dolphins nearby we would know about—” the nearby clang of an armored dolphin interrupted her. “I stand corrected,” she said with a straight face.

Without saying anything further, she dropped into the grass and hid herself from the incoming patrol. Charlie did the same as his costume collected all sorts of dirt along the way, and as Captain Rescue rescinded into the grass, Freight just stood there. He had not yet gotten the opportunity go head to head with a dolphin and now seemed like the perfect chance. Charlie could see the gears within Freight’s head cranking away with plans of bloodshed, so he whacked the giant man and stared up at him, recommending he get down here before the dolphin blew him up. Freight grumbled and dropped to his stomach.

Through the grass, they could barely make out the dolphin as it approached. To their surprise, the creature was alone—no ape escorts and no prisoners in tow. Freight nudged Charlie and motioned for the dolphin, begging silently for the chance to have at it.

Charlie shook his head and whispered for all to hear, “We should follow it, let it lead us to this supply depot so we can rig it to blow.”

“We can’t just kill it?” Freight growled.

“I’m not exactly sure that’s a task we can accomplish with just your shotgun.”

Freight looked surprised. “Who said anything about Courtney?”

Dr. Malevolent peered at the dolphin through the grass. “We’re not even sure where it’s going.”

“Well, it can’t be going anywhere too far off alone like that. I say we see where it’s headed; with any luck it’ll lead us straight to that supply depot.”

“Fine! After you!”

As the dolphin turned a nearby corner and faded from view, the gang darted out of the grass and followed in hot pursuit.

Chapter 14: Two Hours Later

From behind the cover of a streetlight, Dr. Malevolent and the others watched the dolphin patrol aimlessly. She looked to Charlie, annoyance in her eyes, and said, “The damn thing is going absolutely nowhere, and we’re practically back at the urinal cake factory! This is the last time we ever listen to you for advice!”

“Well, we’ve been following it for this long, it’s gotta get to its destination soon. There’s no reason to give up now!”

“Fine! But if we have to revisit this conversation in another two hours, I’m just going to knee you in the groin.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Still safe behind the streetlight, the silent pursuers watched the dolphin turn at the end of the block, shadowed by a giant pink spike that had burst forth from the heaving Earth and sliced straight through the corner building. Despite the frightening impaling, the building somehow remained intact. Free from prying dolphin eyes, they darted down after the patrol. As the gang passed by the spike, Captain Rescue gazed up at it. The hero couldn’t help but to wonder how it would feel to have something like that impale him. Because thinking and walking was not something he did well, Captain Rescue started to lag behind the others. They turned the corner, and, after concluding that an impaling would most certainly hurt—a lot, Captain Rescue caught up and walked directly into Freight and Charlie, who had come to an abrupt stop.

Captain Rescue slid his hands between the two men and parted them like a pair of curtains. He took one look at the path ahead, gasped, and then pushed the two men back together, obstructing his view once more. The dolphin had made it to its destination, the mythological supply depot they had heard so much about, but the depot only proved that those damn mammals never did things the easy way. At about the size of a city block, the outpost had traveled through time and space and been plopped directly in the middle of the street, which, of course, wiped this portion of the city from existence. Clean cuts through the buildings surrounding the depot revealed their innards like cross-section models. Walls, doorways, chairs, tables, refrigerators all had perfect cuts with their better halves missing. Jagged pink spikes made a few of these buildings less than intact, but such is the way of a dolphacalypse. The oppressors were not sure where these crystalline structures came from, they were just some random symptom of wiping matter from existence. Captain Rescue gazed at the walls surrounding the outpost. Thin black framework comprised much of the fortification with pulsating energy fields of futuristic awesomeness filling in the gaps.

“How are we going to get in there,” he whined, doubting they could just waltz through the force fields without the skeletons becoming temporarily visible, just like in the cartoons.

Charlie pointed to one of the buildings overlooking the outpost. “Why go through the deadly force fields when you can go over them.”

Captain Rescue eyed him down. “Doesn’t that seem a little dangerous to you?”

“Less dangerous than electrocution.”

“Yes, electrocution sucks,” he replied, reminded of his many run-ins with the feeling.

Dr. Malevolent cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but if you’re not having too much fun planning out the infiltration of this here dolphin hotspot, then might I suggest,” she paused for dramatic purposes, and then began to whisper loudly, “THAT WE GET OUT OF THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET BEFORE THEY SEE AND VAPORIZE US.”

Freight nodded in appreciation of her ability to channel his fervor as they headed towards the spike-punctured row of identical suburban home. The infiltrators approached the nearest one, but the door refused entry, locked to keep the swarms of dolphins out during the occupation. Just next to the doorway, and through the large living room window, a pink spike tore through the house. Dr. Malevolent slipped in through the small opening and unlocked the door for the others.

Once inside, Captain Rescue stared curiously at that very spike, wondering what would happen if he were to touch it. Would he gain super powers and be a true hero, one that could divert the earth’s orbit by flying into the ground? Or perhaps, would he just get cancer and die? Either way, it was a risk he was willing to take. Captain Rescue brushed his cape aside and marched towards the peculiar pink crystal bursting forth from the ground.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Charlie tried to warn him.

“I have to do this, for me, for us, for humanity,” he replied heroically.

Captain Rescue reached out his hand, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then extended a finger. He tried to touch the crystal, but found only air. Locating the spike with his eyes closed proved quite troublesome. His hand swung about while it tried to find this super power-endowing hunk of crystal, but when that failed, Captain Rescue just lunged forward. He collided with the spike and then hit the floor.

Dr. Malevolent stood over him, smirking. “So, stupid,” she teased, “you feel any super-er?”

He sat up. “Now that you mention it… maybe? The room is spinning so fast. Can you see me? Maybe I’m moving at the speed of light.”

She kicked him and laughed. “Nope, you seem to be moving at your normal sluggish speed.”

Captain Rescue frowned. “I was certain that the crystal would give me super powers.”

“You seem like the type gullible enough to believe toxic waste gives super powers.”

“What are you blabbering on about? Everyone knows toxic waste gives super powers.”

“Yes, if you consider cancer and a slow, painful death a super power.”

Captain Rescue jumped up from the ground and waved the super villain aside. “I will hear no more of your lies.”

“Fine. Have it your way.”

The still super powerless Captain Rescue followed the others upstairs. Once the gang made it to the second floor, they received a good view of the next house through this one’s missing wall. The city planners built these houses so close together that a person could practically walk between them, and that’s just what Freight planned to do. As he strutted down the hallway, the bedroom doors opened up and saluted his manliness. At the complete opposite end of the masculinity spectrum, Captain Rescue scurried from behind as the doors slammed shut in his wake. Freight stared through the missing wall and at the next house. While not gone, a sizable hole in the wall made getting over a painless task, but Freight did not do anything painlessly. He cracked his neck, flexed, and then leapt forward, missing the hole completely and crashing through the siding encased house.

Freight got to his feet and brushed the drywall from his clothes. He then spun around and threw the remaining dust from him before beckoning the others over. They crossed through the hole left by their mountainous forerunner, and then Freight continued his journey by casually pointing over his shoulder and sprinting down the hallway. He repeated the entire destructive process and left another Freight shaped hole in the next house. Once the others made it into this last house on the left, he darted across the house and ushered the gang to a window overlooking the supply depot.

“Guns,” Freight said plainly as he pointed to a small shed-like building that matched the spire’s dark grey color.

“What are you yammering on about,” Charlie replied with a hint of annoyance.

“There are guns in there.”

“And how on Earth could you know this?” the bunny laughed.

“I know guns.”

“This somehow gives you the ability to ascertain where said weapons are housed?”

“It’s a perk.”

Freight ceased all discussion and shoved his elbow through the window without scathing his thick, manly hide.

Dr. Malevolent looked down at the outpost below. “How in the hell are we going to get down there?”

“Like men,” Freight laughed as he squeezed through the tiny window like an octopus squeezing through a tiny hole while scientists observe the fascinating results. He then threw himself forward and landed inside the supply depot with a manly thud, unknown to dolphins and apes alike.

Dr. Malevolent slid through the window, gazed downward, and then simply walked off its sill. While arching her back like a diver, she fell gracefully through air before hitting the ground with a smooth roll. She looked up to see Captain Rescue standing on the ledge with his arms stretched out in front of him like that of another diver. Dr. Malevolent smiled with the knowledge that something truly amazing was about to transpire. Captain Rescue, still under the impression that he could possibly have super powers, swan dived out the window. He probably expected to soar magnificently through the air like a bird, but when he began to plummet like a rock, Captain Rescue panicked. He threw his arms to his sides and started flapping frantically like a flightless bird discovering through trial and error that it was, indeed, flightless. Standing in the center of his ever-growing shadow, Freight stepped to the side just as Captain Rescue smacked into the ground. The others stood around the hero checking to see if he still had a pulse as Charlie landed next to them.

Freight pointed at the shed he felt certain housed space aged weaponry that would make his wife all sorts of jealous. With any luck, his instincts would not have led them astray, and this shed would be a miniature armory of sorts—and not an outhouse, the kind of outhouse that housed only weaponry that shot water upwards to clean your happy parts. First, though, they would have to get there. While not brimming with the enemy, the coast was certainly not clear. The last thing any of them (but Freight) wanted was for the dolphin overlords to notice them, which would certainly lead to unnecessary bloodshed. Charlie led the way knowing that Freight would take all sorts of unnecessary risks. Risk, after all, was Freight’s middle name. His parents gave it to him hoping that it would make him a strong man, a brave man, a manly man. It worked.

Charlie hugged the nearby building and led the others forward. When they got to the front, the bunny gazed around the edge to see what was inside. He gulped at the dozen or so apes sleeping within. As it were, bigfoot were night owls; it made avoiding humans in the wild exponentially easier. If he kept quiet and made haste, Charlie could make it passed the two buildings between here and the shed with ease. As they made it past the slumbering apes, Freight, unable to resist his manly urges any longer, jumped ahead and hugged the small shed as he made his way to its front side. He kept his back to the wall as he inched his way around, keeping an eye out for anything that could possibly shoot him before he had the chance to shoot it. Freight and the others made it to the simple yet futuristic key panel guarding the entrance from any unauthorized access.

“Great,” Dr. Malevolent scowled, “how are you going to get in here now? Did anyone bring their keycard?”

Freight glanced around one last time and then punched the panel. It flickered and sparked and then granted him access.

She gave a short laugh. “I guess that works.”

The darkened shed’s lights activated as Freight stepped through its threshold. The giant man twitched with excitement and was barely able to contain himself. Just as he prophesied, the shed contained a plethora of weaponry, and he wasted no time in scouring over it all. Like a kid in a candy store that housed candy that could vaporize anyone that tried to “eat” it, the giant man ran back and forth through the cramped armory. Rack upon rack of rifles, pistols, and strange spherical devices (grenades of some sort) tickled the giant man in just the right way. Freight grabbed the largest rifle he could find and tried it on for size.

He set it down, lifted his shotgun, and sighed. “No, of course I’m not trying to replace you. I wish you’d stop talking like that. You’re my number one!”

Freight nodded at his shotgun and listened to what Courtney had to say.

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll use you with one hand and a laser pistol in the other.”

He nodded some more.

“Then we have a deal!”

“You’re completely crazy aren’t you?” Charlie joked.

Freight’s loving smile evaporated, and he stared at Charlie. “Okay, guy in a bunny suit.”

The giant man grabbed one of the slightly oversized pistols clearly intended for big hands, but his were close contenders. Worried that he would break the thing and vaporize him and everyone else in the room, Freight held it lightly while he inspected it with child-like glee. It was reminiscent of old fifties era sci-fi pistols, a handheld tesla coil. The barrel had a series of circular metallic rings floating freely around it. Freight pointed the pistol at the ground and watched the rings slide slowly down the barrel. He gave it a good shake and watched the rings bounce about as he laughed innocently.

At the barrel’s tip, a glossy black sphere glowed faintly, and kept the metallic rings of sliding off. As Freight gave the trigger a slight tug, a miniscule outburst of some kind of plasma dripped from the tip like a leaky faucet and sizzled against the metal floor. Freight sighed, thinking that the weapon was a dud. He pulled the trigger and held it. The sphere at the barrel’s tip began to glow brighter and brighter as the weapon shook more and more violently. Freight released the trigger and a giant glob of plasma burst from the tip and scorched the floor, leaving it malformed from the heat. Approving its awesomeness, the giant man shoved the tiny little pistol underneath his belt opposite Courtney.

Captain Rescue snatched up a laser rifle that was similar to the one he had used three years prior to help save his friends from the rampaging dinosaur he then befriended. The hero’s mind began to wander. He thought about that dinosaur and the brief love they had shared. Captain Rescue hoped that Ralph still lived and that he had not been taken out back and shot. The thought of a few dozen bigfoot leading an animal as large as Ralph into some clearing in the middle of nowhere made him laugh, and then at the thought of what happened next, he wept like a child.

Charlie took a moment to dig into his bunny pouch and removed a couple blocks of plastic explosives. Dr. Malevolent gave him an odd stare, still surprised that he would carry something so dangerous. With the explosives in hand, the bunny reached underneath the weapon racks looking for a good place to plant the explosives. He slid them into a small cranny and then primed them both to blow when he tapped the detonator he still had hidden inside his suit. Then he and Dr. Malevolent grabbed as many weapons as they could carry. Rifles strapped over their shoulders, pistols down their belts, grenades in their pockets. They were going to war, and with any luck, their enemy wouldn’t know what hit them, but as they turned to leave the shed, the heroes realized it was they who didn’t know what hit them. A few dozen soldiers, both bigfoot and dolphin, had surrounded the shed.

Freight went into a rampage, dropped to the ground, and unleashed the power of his pistol unto all those who would stand in his way. Without rhyme or reason, he shot globs of plasma at his enemy and watched as the stuff melted giant hunks of flesh and took of limbs. Just when he was beginning to think that with this little gun he could take out an entire army, Freight saw a small spherical grenade bounce into the shed.

“Damn it,” he said aloud, shortly expecting to experience what being vaporized felt like.

The grenade went off, filling the shed with a blinding white light, which impaired his ability to tell up from down, left from right, living from dead. Freight saw a window of opportunity here and quickly pulled open his trousers and shoved the tiny laser pistol down them. When his senses returned he could see that the chances of fighting their way out of here had been all but extinguished. Standing before the stunned heroes, and towering over the rest of the bigfoot, a familiar ape smirked down at them and was happy to make their acquaintance once more.

“I was wondering when you four would turn up again,” the alpha male said.

“You know,” Captain Rescue said, “we never did get your name.”

“You may refer to me as George.”

Captain Rescue laughed; even he got this reference. “Tell me, George… are you curious?”

George looked down at him, straight faced. “Curious about what?”

Captain Rescue stammered, trying to think of a witty retort, “Curious about… the weather!”

“No.”

Next to him on the ground, Dr. Malevolent gave the hero a good swat. “Would you cut it out before he kills us.”

“I’m pretty sure if he was going to kill us he would have thrown in something a little more dangerous than a light grenade.”

“Light grenade… that’s rich,” Dr. Malevolent mocked.

Freight suddenly became hysterical, using his wife as a distraction from the laser pistol he had shoved down his pants. “WHERE IS SHE, WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HER. GIVE ME BACK MY COURTNEY.”

George laughed. “Is this what you’re looking for?” he asked as he held up the shotgun.

“You can’t have her, she’s mine!”

One of the bigfoot looked to George, who nodded back at him. This ape grabbed Freight by the shoulders and picked him up from the ground. The alpha knelt down and looked the giant man in the eyes. He then proceeded to sock Freight in the kidney. He lurched forward and silently sucked up his pain like a man.

Freight laughed. “I see… you’ve been studying human anatomy.”

George held the shotgun up, a trophy of his victory.

“Take her,” Freight said confidently, “she’ll never talk, not to you, and before long, I’ll just get her back and then shove her straight up your ass.”

Freight cringed as Courtney complained about how unpleasant that experience would be.

“Honey, I meant it figuratively. I would never do something so traumatizing to you. I love you too much for that.”

George cracked Freight upside the head and he collapsed with the laser pistol still safe in his pants.

Without appearing too frightened, Captain Rescue glanced at Freight and said, “Ooh, me next, me next!”

George gave him a curious stare and then offered the hero the same treatment. Captain Rescue slumped over, unconscious. “Search the rest of them,” he added.

One of the bigfoot grabbed Dr. Malevolent and began frisking her thoroughly, feeling her pants up to her coat. “What is this?” he asked upon feeling the lump in her coat.

“Oh, that’s nothing at all, and it’s certainly of no interest to you.”

The bigfoot reached inside and removed the lamp.

“See, just an ordinary lamp.”

The ape glared at her and then began to give the lamp a vigorous rub.

After a sarcastic laugh, Dr. Malevolent said, “Well, I guess you’ve been versed in the art of lamp rubbing.”

The bigfoot remained calm as Greg’s orange gas began to drain from the lamp. He coalesced still wearing his mechanics outfit and holding a grease rag.

“Yeah what is it?” Greg started to ask the heroes until he saw the situation. “Really, can’t I leave you ingrates alone for more than a few minutes without you bungling it up?”

He looked down at Captain Rescue’s unconscious body. “Well, at least the stupid one is fast asleep.”

George held up the lamp. “I have this now, doesn’t that mean you’re under my control?”

“Do I look like a puppet to you?” Greg laughed. “I cannot be controlled or manipulated. I’m not out of some movie. I am an all-powerful being.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to execute you.”

“Execute a genie? Are you mad? You can’t execute a genie, and all trying would do is piss me off.”

George glared at the genie. “Get back in here.”

“Or else...?” Greg taunted.

The ape held the lamp between his two hands. “Or else I will crush this thing.”

Greg looked at Dr. Malevolent and Charlie. “If you would excuse me, I trust you’ll be able to find a way out of this pickle on your own.”

Before either of them had the chance to reply, Greg blinked away, leaving the two of them alone with the bigfoot.

George nodded at his subordinates.

One of the lesser bigfoot went to knock Charlie out, but his plastic head made it tricky. After five or six smacks, they eventually took off the hat and, with a swift whack, rendered the human underneath unconscious before putting the hat right back on. Dr. Malevolent looked around at her unconscious comrades and then closed her eyes tight and tensed up before feeling the butt of a rifle crack against her skull and the lights go out.

Chapter 15: Another Day, Another Cell

Dr. Malevolent groaned, sat up, and rubbed her sore head. Huddled in the in the back corner of the cell, the super villain looked around without a clue how long she had been out. In the meantime, the bigfoot had transported them to some kind of holding cell, a sickeningly clean white room lined with futuristic plastic panels across the walls and ceiling. At the front of the room, an energy field locked them inside. She stood up and stretched the grogginess out of her. Off to Dr. Malevolent’s side, an unconscious Freight lay on the floor while the others were busying themselves with the futuristic room.

Captain Rescue stood at the front of the cell trying to muster enough courage to stick his finger into the strange energy field that had them trapped. For now, he only stared and marveled at the random designs that appeared and then disappeared as the force field pulsated. Apprehensively, he lifted his hand, held his breath, and pointed. Like a little boy teasing a small insect, Captain Rescue’s finger shot forward. To his surprise, it passed through the force field without shocking its owner and revealing his skeleton.

“You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep playing with that thing,” Charlie said.

Too distracted by an unforeseen development, Captain Rescue ignored Charlie’s words. At a shoulder’s length away, he could see his finger sticking back out of the force field as if it were a mirror image flipped around. He wiggled his finger about and watched it move. The hero stuck the rest of his hand into the force field and it emerged almost immediately. Captain Rescue reached his opposite hand forward, tickled his palm, and giggled at the amount of fun he could have with this marvel. He pulled his arm out of the force field and scratched his chin while planning the next steps in these experiments. He shoved his entire right arm into the force field, and after a handful of milliseconds, it shot back into the room and punched himself in the left shoulder.

“Whoa.” He rubbed his sore shoulder with the spatially displaced arm, a quirky sight to say the least.

Captain Rescue pulled his arm out of the field and inspected it to make sure the journey had not caused any damage. When he was sure enough that all of his molecules were still intact, the hero shoved both arms through the energy field. The pair shot back out and punched him square in the chest. He stumbled, righted himself, and then took a deep breath. Captain Rescue erupted into a sprint and charged headfirst into the field. Both it and the room quieted as the hero made his journey, a journey taken more quickly by his arm and his finger. After a couple seconds, Captain Rescue came rushing back out of the energy field.

He came to a stop and bent over panting. “I think I saw God.”

Too enamored by his efforts to refute this claim, the others just kept quiet. Slowly, Captain Rescue backed away from the field and pressed himself against the wall. He took another deep breath and galloped forward. Just before passing into the field, Captain Rescue launched himself into the air like someone trying to fly. With a whoosh, he flew into the swirling force field. Soon afterwards, he came careening back out. The hero smashed against the smooth white floor and slid until the wall stopped him. He got to his feet and brushed himself off.

“Are you done having fun?” Charlie inquired.

Captain Rescue looked genuinely offended. “Fun? I am conducting experiments to discover this thing’s weakness.”

“Really? It sure seems like you’re just having fun,” the bunny argued.

“I am doing my best to get us out of here the best way I can.”

“Well, as long as you’re doing your best, then we have nothing to fear.”

“Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page here,” Captain Rescue said as he shoved his leg into the force field. It flew back out and kicked him in the knee, buckling it and sending the hero to the floor. The commotion finally stirred the sleeping giant. Freight groaned and sat up, still a little out of it.

“Where are we?” he asked as he rubbed his sore head.

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “Another cell, of course!”

Freight shook his head, gasped, and shoved his hand down his pants.

“What on earth is going on in there?” she questioned.

Freight smiled at her and then pulled out the small laser pistol.

“Wow, that’s part disgusting and part amazing, I’m impressed.”

Freight rose to his feet with laser pistol in his hands. He quickly scanned the room, walked to the force field, and then inspected it.

“What on Earth are you doing?” Dr. Malevolent asked. “Just call the guards here so we can shoot them.”

“I have a better plan,” Freight said.

He looked out into the hallway, saw the control panel on the other side of the force field, and smiled. The giant man then positioned himself directly behind it and pointed his small laser rifle at the wall while the others stood by and watched the master work. Freight started to charge the weapon as before, and after a few seconds, it began vibrating violently. He unleashed the pint-sized pistol and it melted a couple inches into the wall.

“You’re a genius,” Dr. Malevolent complimented.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Freight replied as another glob of plasma inched closer to the control console.

Another couple of shots and the lumberjack struck gold by melting the control console’s innards. The force field flickered and then dissipated. He smiled at the others just as a rush of footsteps approached. A pair of bigfoot ran into the cell and Freight gunned them both down like a professional assassin, quickly firing off a shot into each of their chests. The apes fell to their knees and dropped their laser rifles to the ground. Freight nonchalantly tossed the pistol to Dr. Malevolent before picking up one of the rifles and handing it to Charlie and taking the other for himself.

“COURTNEY!” Freight bellowed as they left the cell and entered the cellblock, but the smooth white walls held little room to hide a personified shotgun.

What it did hold, however, were dozens of similar force-fielded cells like the one they had called home for the last few hours. Inside, human prisoners looked as though they had seen better days, days in which dolphins from the future were not holding them captive. Upon seeing the helpless innocents in need, Captain Rescue switched into savior mode. He ran straight for one of the cells, passed through the force field, and seconds later came back out.

Charlie sighed. “Here we go again.”

Captain Rescue, if anything, was a fast learner—most of the time. He slammed his elbow into the control panel, which short-circuited and the force field disappeared. Inside, the three prisoners waved the heroes away.

“Get back!” one of them yelled.

“Have no fear, citizen, we’re here to save you,” Captain Rescue said heroically.

“You don’t understand! They did something to us, it’s not safe!”

“Just stay calm and keep up with us, we’ll have you out of here in no time,” the hero replied as he broke open more cells while ignoring their warnings completely.

A flurry of footsteps echoed down the hallway as more bigfoot came to investigate the prison break. Charlie and Freight quickly and mercilessly gunned them down as Captain Rescue broke more prisoners out of their cells, more prisoners that insisted they be kept inside and away from his friends and him. The hero kept pulling the humans into the hallway and coercing them into following him and the others. They ignored his words, broke away from Captain Rescue and the others, and gathered against the wall at the end of the hallway.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Dr. Malevolent asked. “There’s clearly something wrong with these people.”

Captain Rescue brushed her off. “There’s nothing wrong with any of them. They’re just scared. They’ve been cooped up for years now with nothing to do but get poked and prodded by sea cows. They probably don’t even know what’s going on.”

From down the hallway, one of the prisoners yelled to him, “Quickly, get out of here! I can feel it boiling inside me, we don’t have long now. Run!”

“See, they’re just scared, they want us to get them out of here as quickly as possible.”

Dr. Malevolent’s jaw dropped. “That’s not what he said at all. Are you even listening? And also, dolphins aren’t sea cows. Manatees are usually called sea cows.”

“How do you figure? Manatees stay in the coastal waters, Dolphins are the ones usually found out to sea. Hence, sea cow!”

As the two argued on the technicalities, one by one the prisoners bent over moaning as their insides wrenched. The pain clouded their minds and drove them instantly insane.

Dr. Malevolent continued to argue with Captain Rescue, “Yeah, but manatees are the ones that actually look like cows. Literally. They look like a ‘sea cow’.”

“But they don’t live out at sea. I would accept ‘water cow’, but dolphins live out at sea,” he replied.

Behind them, the prisoners had begun their transformation as their skin grew bright red and painfully thickened into some kind of hide. Freight and Charlie kept watch on the opposite end of the hallway, picking off the handful of apes that came around the corner. Eventually, they glanced over their shoulders and noticed the monsters in the making. The two of them motioned for the bickering duo and laughed quietly to each other before turning back around and killing more apes.

Dr. Malevolent, clueless to the prisoners, strained to wrap her head around Captain Rescue’s logic. “How did you come to call dolphins sea cows in the first place?”

“Well,” he hung his head, “when they killed my parents, I had to come up with something to call the monsters.”

Behind, the other monsters began to morph and twist into freak abominations as their thick hide-like skin cracked and their bodies grew.

Dr. Malevolent, still clueless, shook her head. “So, dolphins kill your parents and you decide to get back at them by christening them ‘sea cows’?”

The prisoners, if you could still call them that, now towered near the hallway’s ceiling with their swollen arms dangling close to the ground. One by one, the monsters began lumbering towards the escaped prisoners. Along the way, they bumped and growled at each other primitively.

Charlie tapped her on the shoulder. “If you two are done, we have ourselves a situation.” He motioned to the enraged abominations at the other side of the hallway.

Captain Rescue turned around to scold him for interrupting when he saw the prisoners. “HOLY HELL, WHAT THE [INCOMPREHENSIBLE NONSENSE] ARE THOSE?” his brain spewed out as it filtered the curse word. He continued staring at them and then his eyes went wider than before. “Tetanus! They have tetanus! Don’t’ let them touch you!”

Dr. Malevolent’s backed away. “Tetanus?! Are you insane?! Whatever they are, whatever happened to them, we should probably get out of here. Quick.”

Before anyone could agree, the super villain sprinted in the opposite direction as fast as she could with Charlie and Captain Rescue right behind her. Freight lingered for a moment with his laser rifle at the ready. He fired at one of the monsters and saw the laser burst bounce to the wall, reflected by their thick skin. Freight leisurely turned around and faced his back to the abominations before sprinting off at full gallop. He tossed the worthless weapon to his side, but after a few seconds, he stopped and went back for it thinking that it might still come in handy.

The fleeing fleers turned down the first hallway they could find in an attempt to break line of sight with the prisoners turned freaks of nature. They hoped that if these abominations could not see them, it would prevent them from ripping their heads clean off. Down the hall, a symphony of moans played out, sending shivers down their spines. The bigfoot within this prison had apparently learned of the situation, because now they seemed less interested in recapturing the escaped prisoners and more interested in getting the hell out.

“You just had to go and let them all out of their cages didn’t you?” Dr. Malevolent growled.

“I’m sorry!” Captain Rescue cried out as inhuman moans carried through the halls. “I just wanted to rescue them!” He heard a particularly gruesome wail and then added, “Would someone please rescue me?!”

As Captain Rescue saw a massive red form lumber into view, and then another and another, all of which drooling uncontrollably all over themselves, he had the sudden realization that this was not the first time he had glimpsed such things. He thought back to the video game he had seen while escaping his capture. It amazed Captain Rescue how far graphics had come in only three years. The others started to glance back as well, and the abominations, no fan of being stared it, grew increasingly enraged as they slammed their giant fists against the ground, leaving behind bloody, broken white tiles.

“Why is it that wherever we go, you’re pissing things off?” Dr. Malevolent yelled to Captain Rescue while sprinting as hard as she could.

“I just have that kind of personality, I guess!” Captain Rescue yelled back.

“Yeah… you do!”

They swung around a corner and stopped a moment to catch their breath.

“They remind me of a video game I saw the bigfoot playing back when they captured and whipped me,” Captain Rescue said.

“And you didn’t think it was pertinent to tell us? That they were experimenting on human prisoners?”

“Experimenting?! They were just playing a video game!”

She grabbed the back of his head and shoved it around the corner. “Do those things look like a video game to you?”

“I know what you mean! Technology advances so quickly. They look so real. It’s outstanding.”

Dr. Malevolent shook her head to exorcise his words from it. “What? They are real.”

“THEY’RE REAL?”

“What are you, stupid? Of course they’re real.”

Captain Rescue glanced around the corner again. “No wonder they look so good.”

“How close are they?” Charlie asked.

“Close.”

Charlie glanced around, and sure enough, the abominations had closed in. “Yup, let’s move.”

They raced down the hallway trying to outrun the abominable red flood. As the gang stumbled around a corner, they noticed a stairwell beckoning them halfway down this hallway. There was no telling where it led, but hopefully these monsters would be incapable of scaling stairs. Captain Rescue, who had somehow pulled ahead in this little relay race, felt the plush hands of a bunny rabbit grab his shoulders and, like a backseat driver, lead him to the stairwell.

“Oh God,” Captain Rescue yelped as they ascended the stairs, “are we going to end up like that?”

“You might, but I think the rest of us will be okay,” Dr. Malevolent snickered.

“What!? Why do you say that?!”

Dr. Malevolent patted him on the shoulder. “Who knows what they did to you that fateful night you were captured.”

“You’re right!” Captain Rescue gripped the sides of his head. “I think I can feel it!” He squinted, “Yes, my mind! It feels weird. I think I’m turning into an abomation!”

Dr. Malevolent, laughing at his mispronunciation, slapped him against the back of his head. “You’re fine, idiot. That’s just the realization of your own stupidity.”

He breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Whew! I was really worried.”

Before Captain Rescue could get bored of these steps, they reached the utmost floor. A pair of opaque white doors opened with a rush of air and the heroes spilled into another narrow hallway with cells lined on both sides. Hairy apes were nowhere to be seen, which implied that they had fled from the abominations and now the gang was on their own. With the roar of those enraged monsters no longer within earshot, they slowed their pace and kept their eyes on the cells, watching for anything else that, if free, could gouge their eyes out. The first cell on their left housed nothing but a harmless goat.

“Help!” a voice cried out as they passed by.

Feet screeched to a halt and everyone backpedaled.

“You’ve got to get me out of here!” the voice added frantically.

Dr. Malevolent coughed, almost choking on the air. “What the hell.”

The goat had donned an excruciatingly sorrowful look. From behind the force field, it begged, “Don’t leave me in here!”

“You can talk!” Captain Rescue exclaimed.

“Who cares, just let me out of here, they’ve done dreadful things to me!”

Dr. Malevolent shook her head. “You’re probably safer in there; we might have just released a slew of crazy people.”

“I can take care of myself!”

She laughed. “If that were the case, you wouldn’t be in there in the first place.”

“Poppycock! When they first captured me, I was nothing more than a stupid goat. Now, I am so much more. I am… super goat.”

“He’s so cute,” Captain Rescue cooed, “can’t we keep him?”

“Well,” Dr. Malevolent scratched her cheek, “I guess if you’re aware of the dangers, there’s no harm in letting you out; and no, we’re not keeping him”

Captain Rescue frowned. “Okay.”

“Yeah! I can help you guys get out of here, and then I will be on my way.”

Freight shrugged and gave the cell’s control panel a good whack with the butt of his rifle. It flickered briefly and then dissipated. The goat walked out from the cell, gave the heroes an appreciative nod, and then simply erupted into a sprint as it headed down the corridor.

Halfway down, it yelled back, “So long, suckers!”

Freight picked up the rifle and took aim, but Dr. Malevolent pressed the barrel downwards. “Why bother. It’s just a goat.”

He dropped the rifle to his side. “Some malevolent super villain you are.”

“Hey now, there’s a time for malevolence and a time for accepting that…it’s just a goat.”

Freight threw his indifferent arms into the air.

“And besides, chances are it’ll run into abominations and be torn to pieces,” she added.

Captain Rescue and the others continued with their self-guided tour of the research laboratory, or prison—whatever it was. The dolphins had conducted experiments on countless animals; most of which looked normal at first glance, but Captain Rescue giggled hard at one of the experiments: a tiger with furled wings. In reaction to his giggle, the cat spread its wings and hissed. He held up his hands and apologized profusely as the tiger furled its wings once again and wandered to the corner of the cell to lie down and curl into a ball.

“So,” Dr. Malevolent began, “where exactly are we going and what are we doing once we get there?”

Charlie shrugged. “I thought we’d head to the roof.”

“…and jump off?”

“We’ll figure that part out once we get up there.” Charlie pointed to another stairwell. “To the roof!”

Captain Rescue started to panic. “But what if this prison is three hundred stories tall?”

“No,” Charlie said, “the only building even remotely near three hundred stories was that spire.”

“What if we’re in the spire?!”

Charlie pointed at a nearby window, outside of which a plainly visible spire stretched towards the heavens.

“What if that’s a mirror?”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

Dr. Malevolent smacked the both of them upside the head. “Shut up.”

Before they went off in search of this roof, Charlie got in one final note, “At least we know they brought us to the spire’s grounds. We just have to get there.”

Annoyed that he had discounted her order to shut up, Dr. Malevolent stared him down and pointed to a nearby stairwell. They scaled the dimly lit and slippery smooth steps that were sullied by the occasional scuffmark by goat hooves. A couple flights went by and they soon came to a nondescript traditional grey doorway, one endowed with quite the knob. Captain Rescue gave it a twist and there it was.

The roof had a smooth white level surface and a few structures that were most likely air conditioning and whatever else futuristic prisons needed to function. Charlie stepped to the edge of the rooftop; they were well over two stories from the ground, and getting down there would most certainly be tricky. First, though, he had to deal with the uncontrollable weeping coming from the stairwell exit. Charlie swung around half expecting to find Captain Rescue on his hands and knees crying his eyes out, but no—it was Freight.

“What’s the matter, big guy?” Charlie asked in a nurturing tone as he knelt down beside the giant man.

“My wonderful Courtney, she’s gone!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get her back… even if we have to crack open the skull of every bigfoot on the planet to find her.”

Freight’s sorrowful expression turned to joy. He patted Charlie on the back and said, “Thanks bunny.”

“Anytime, big guy.”

Charlie turned back to the rooftop ledge. “Now, the real issue at hand, aside from personified shotguns: how are we going to get down from here?”

Captain Rescue flexed. “We’re superheroes, we’re going to jump.”

Dr. Malevolent pointed over the side. “Be my guest.”

He nodded and stepped towards the ledge.

Charlie yanked Captain Rescue away from certain death. “If you jump from this height, you’ll split the ground underneath your feet and shatter the world.”

“Wow, I had no idea.”

“Yeah, that’s why we have to rappel down.”

“With what exactly?” Dr. Malevolent snorted as Captain Rescue inspected his earth-shattering feet.

Charlie opened his bunny pouch, dug around for rope, and noticed the detonator in the process—he had almost forgotten about it. The bunny grabbed them both and turned to the explosive one.

“I guess now is the perfect time for a distraction.” He gave the switch a flip.

An explosion centered at the supply depot rocketed across Dolphin City. It had not gone according to plan though; there was a blinding white light, and a huge shockwave that shook the very bedrock under their feet. Apparently, the weapons and explosives contained within the armory had amplified the explosion. Either that or Charlie had used a metric shit-ton of C17 (C4’s genetically engineered brother).

As a warm shockwave lifted her hair into the air, Dr. Malevolent gave the bunny a furious stare. “I sure hope you didn’t dose us with a lethal dose of radiation.”

“Radiation?” Captain Rescue’s eyes lit up. He threw his arms into the air and cried out, “Super powers!”

Dr. Malevolent mockingly threw hers into the air as well. “Cancer and death!”

Charlie, proving that he had a gadget for every situation hidden in his suit, pulled out a Geiger counter and showed it, and the normal levels of radiation, to Dr. Malevolent. She childishly mouthed bad words at the bunny rabbit as he wrapped the rope around one of the rooftop structures and commenced their descent just as alarms triggered by their distraction went off all across Dolphin City.

Chapter 16: Break Out, Break In, Break Free, Break Dance

While still adorning the mechanic uniform that had a grease rag sticking out of the front pocket, Greg floated around in his magical lamp. Next to him, the control console sparked and smoldered from its run in with a not-so-superhero. Despite his stylish outfit, the genie had not bothered to start repairs on anything yet. It was all for show, and once his corporeal counterparts knocked over this tower, the genie would be able to fix it instantly. In the meantime, Greg would avoid the dangers lurking outside the safety of his wonderful little lamp.

The genie made his way to the front of it, and his gases started to ascend the snaking spout. At the very top, he could see the jet black eye of a dolphin staring into his humble abode. Greg decided to stay inside and avoid any face-to-face confrontations with the beast. For all he knew, those dolphins had devised some means in which to kill a genie, something he thought was not possible, but, as a sensible incorporeal being, Greg was not going to try his luck. He much preferred the alternative: all his gaseous life, the genie had heard stories that after a certain point in their lives, his kind simply grew bored of corporeal life, floated off into oblivion, and were never heard from again. Of course, parents tell their children similar stories when pets die. So, who knows?

“What do you think you’re looking at, fish-face?” he called up to it. The dolphin stared for another few seconds and then pulled away, retreating back to wherever it came from.

“You know where to find me when you feel like chatting!” Greg yelled up to it.

He descended the spout upon realizing that antagonizing fish-face was probably a bad idea. The last time he offended one of these corporeal babies, Charlie stomped on his lamp. Greg’s orange face cringed, those were memories he did not want to relieve. He only hoped the inbred meatbags would destroy the tower promptly so he did not have to.

***

Pink storm clouds had begun to gather in the darkening skies above Dolphin City, or perhaps they only appeared pink because of the domed force field stretching as far as the eye could see. Pink clouds, grey clouds, whatever color they were, it was far too much for the time-displaced heroes to stomach. Who knew the future would be so damn—girly? They had to fix this, to fix time, or at least change it so that the world did not suck quite so badly. Charlie waved to the others as he ducked around the side of the prison while flashes of red danced across the city as it went on full alert.

“As George said when he and the other apes captured us, they took the lamp to their leader, who’s probably at the very top of that spire,” he said, planning their next course of action.

Captain Rescue kicked the dirt. “The top?! Really?”

“Yes, that’s where all evil dictators keep their seats of power.”

Dr. Malevolent nodded in agreement.

Charlie turned his attention away from the spire and gripped the rope still dangling from the top of the three-story prison, research, and freak-show hybrid of a building. After Charlie gave the rope a sharp tug, it tumbled from the roof elegantly and landed in a neat pile upon the ground. Charlie grabbed this magical rope, tightened its looped around his arm, and then tossed it back into his pouch with all the other enigmatic wonders.

“What just happened?” Dr. Malevolent asked, looking to the roof, then to the ground, and then to Charlie’s pouch. “You let us climb down something so loosely anchored to the roof?”

“It’s all in the knot,” the bunny replied evasively, shrugging as he pointed at the spire. “Let’s save the past.”

They looked out over the hotbed of dolphin domination before them. Buildings littered the city like white polka dots, white polka dots that were flashing red in accordance with their explosive distraction. The prison of most insidious horrors they had just broken out of was in the very corner, more than a thousand feet from the spire. Getting to that towering monstrosity without any of the countless patrols noticing, capturing, and then torturing the gang would be quite the adventure.

Captain Rescue began staring upwards just as a crash of thunder echoed across the area, followed shortly by surprisingly gorgeous pink lightning that etched the sky. Seconds later, a heavy rain started to fall, tinted pink from encompassing field. Captain Rescue watched the sky as raindrops splattered against his face, filling filled his mouth and drowning him slowly like a turkey. Dr. Malevolent looked at him, rolled her eyes, and then slapped him on the back of the head, throwing it forward and spilling the water that had collected there.

He gasped for breath. “I think… you might have just… saved my life.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” she joked.

Just before the heroes could begin their hopscotch towards to the dark and impending spire, the prison suddenly grew bright red, redder than the rest of the city, as it broadcasted their escape. Within a few moments, the area would most certainly be swarming with an army of scantily clad bigfoot bent on their annihilation, not to mention their everlasting defense of their loincloth ways.

“Well,” Dr. Malevolent said, stepping away from the building, “that was rather delayed.”

“Delayed or not, let’s get moving before we find ourselves eaten alive by angry ape-men,” Charlie replied in a hurry as he headed for one of the nearby buildings.

Freight and Dr. Malevolent followed the bunny, leaving both the building turned siren and Captain Rescue behind. Since the hero was too preoccupied with catching raindrops that tasted nothing like pink lemonade in his mouth, he might have missed the plan. Just before Captain Rescue could succumb to the water sirens and drown, Charlie rushed up to him, slapped him in the back of the head, knocked the water out, and then dragged him to where Freight and Dr. Malevolent stood with annoyed looks upon their faces. The two of them slapped some additional sense into the hero just as droves of furious ape-men converged on the flashing red building. The enemy paid no attention to the escaped prisoners hidden within the shadows just a few dozen feet away. Still stubborn enough to believe the apes might want to do something other than torture him, Captain Rescue waved to these ape-men, and Dr. Malevolent slapped his hand downward, instructing him silently to knock it off. Once the hero finished unsuccessfully making first contact, Charlie led the gang down the side of the building, still hidden within its shadow, impossible for anyone not on the lookout for brightly colored clothes to spot.

The bigfoot surrounded the nondescript prison with no knowledge that Captain Rescue had freed the horrors contained within. They flanked the entrance and prepared to open the plain white doors. The lead apes looked at each other and nodded—their laser rifles ready to scorch some superheroes. One of the bigfoot leaned in and pressed a few buttons on the console, which beeped as the doors slid open. The apes entered the prison with their laser rifles in the upright and cocked position expecting to find the costumed crusaders hiding somewhere within. At about the same time the last of the apes entered the prison, they started to stream back out again, followed shortly by a small army of bloodthirsty mutants. The ill-prepared bigfoot scattered as the abominations pummeled them with giant red hands. Since their strength rivaled that of an exoskeleton-clad dolphin, it was not a pretty sight. The monsters grabbed hold of any bigfoot they could find, lifting them clean off the ground and tossing them through the air as they screamed for their ape-mommies.

The heroes kept their distance and watched the story unfold. After a few minutes of pointless lasering, the apes realized their rifles had little effect on the abomination’s hardened skin. After a few more minutes, they discovered the best strategy was to use the butts of their rifles to keep the enraged beasts at bay until someone with a clue showed up. Hopefully, not only would that person bring a clue, but also a weapon powerful enough to bring these bloody, smelly monsters down.

Charlie decided that sticking around any longer was a bad idea, and the bunny slipped around the side of the building. As he turned the corner, followed shortly by everyone else, he slammed into something large and hairy. He looked up to see George’s cross face staring down at him. Upon his shoulder, the ape carried the largest weapon any of them had ever seen, and it made Freight’s mouth water. The weapon, and even calling it that was a gross understatement, could have probably blown holes through entire planets. Even if that turned out to be a gross overstatement, it would at least blow holes through anything standing in the bigfoot’s path, be it science experiments gone wrong, or oversized bunny rabbits.

Charlie smiled up to him. “Hi George, I guess you’re… uh curious… what we’re doing here, out of our cells.”

George just grunted.

“Well… if you’d excuse us, we’ll be on our way.”

Without giving the giant ape a chance to shove that giant weapon straight up his ass, Charlie turned and ran, taking the others with him. George yanked the weapon from his shoulder took aim for the bunny rabbit, who turned the corner milliseconds before the ape could pull the trigger. He grunted once more and turned his attention to the mess of abominations tearing his men limb from limb. George lifted the weapon and set his sights for one of the monsters. As the ape pressed and held the trigger, four claws mounted at the weapon’s tip started to power up, conjuring a ball of glowing red plasma within its mechanical grasp. George held the trigger and the orb grew larger and larger until he finally released it.

Propelled by space-age dolphin technology, the orb moved forward at a leisurely pace. After enough travel time had transpired to bore Captain Rescue if he were paying attention, the orb collided with one of the abominations, instantly disintegrating it. George tapped the trigger and miniature orbs shot out, barraging the monstrosities as it melted small hunks of their flesh, weakening as well as pissing them off. This demonstration implied one thing and one thing alone: that if George were to hold this weapon’s trigger for long enough, he might actually be able to blast holes through planets, so perhaps that wasn’t a gross overstatement.

Across the battlefield and hiding in plain sight, the gang stopped to rubberneck under the shadow of a tall five-story building. Just to their side, an alleyway cut between the city’s wall and this building would provide a means of escape when and if they needed it. Considering how much everyone, including apes, hated rubberneckers, the gang would likely need this escape route shortly. In the meantime, Freight watched another orb travel across the battlefield at a brisk pace as it evaporated the pink raindrops that fell into it. The giant man watched in awe as an abomination turned to look at the orb and then grunted primitively. The orb crashed into its target, which simply froze for a moment, grew bright red, and then disappeared, leaving behind a charred circle on the ground and a puff of dark black smoke. The wideness of Freight’s eyes matched that of his smile. He sure loved weapons and the many ways in which they nullify their target.

“Amazing!” Freight bellowed across the battlefield. George’s head snapped straight towards the excited man, who suddenly realized that his actions had probably escalated the situation.

Charlie shook his head in both annoyance and dismay and then waved at the gigantic ape once more, who pointed his devastating weapon in their direction. The bunny gulped and said, “Okay folks, show’s over, let’s get out of here before we get orbafied.”

Charlie turned and sprinted down the narrow alleyway, leading the way for the others as George led the way for the dirty apes under his command. Ahead, a backdoor into this five-story building opened automatically as they sprinted by it. The bunny glanced over his shoulder to see George and a group of bigfoot racing around the corner. The heavy weapon upon the ape’s shoulder caused him to lean ridiculously, but he kept his balance, showing the humans that he could not be trifled with, for not even weighty super weapons could slow George down.

With his head still looking behind, Charlie saw his allies screech to a halt and, not to feel left out, the bunny did the same. His head jerked around and he coughed an awkward cough, an oh shit cough. From the other side of the path, more hairy apes were now running straight at them with a furious kill all humans look in their eyes. The first and only real option ran through the bunny’s mind: the doorway a few feet behind them. He pushed through the gang as they stood there with dumbfounded looks upon their faces. Charlie grabbed the first arm his hand could find on the way in. Captain Rescue shrieked in terror as he felt something possess his motor functions. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that it was a bunny rabbit—and not a rampant poltergeist that followed him back from the haunted maintenance tunnels.

Freight and Dr. Malevolent realized where the other two were going and followed them quickly into the building. The automatic door closed shut and without missing a beat, Freight turned and fired his laser rifle into the control console, which went from green to red and started to smolder and spark. Freight leaned against the malfunctioning door just as furious apes started to beat against it. He smirked widely, congratulating himself on a job well done, and then stepped away from the doorway and into this building. The lights within instinctively reacted to their presence, granting illumination to the lobby they now found themselves in. The innards had much in common with that of a hospital. An unimportant, yet interesting, side note to all of this: bigfoot sure kept the place sparkling clean, from the sparkling white floor, to the sparkling grey panels along the wall. Who would have thought under-evolved apes that formerly lived in dirt hovels would be such clean freaks.

A portrait hung on the wall to their right depicted a dolphin in its unnatural glory. As the creature sat in its leather chair, a bookshelf behind it contained notable novels from all of mankind’s history. A lamp, of the non-magical illuminating variety, was on a table just next to the dolphin. In one flipper, it held a glass of amber liquor, and in another, an unlit cigar. The dolphin stared forward, filling whoever glimpsed into its eyes with dread. Captain Rescue shivered at the evil painting and turned his attention away from it. As he and the others headed further into the building, the clatter of their feet against the white tiled floor met with the repeated lasering by apes trying to get in. The noise created an almost musical sound that Captain Rescue had no problem nodding his head to, pretending he was at a concert.

At the end of the lobby, the gang turned down a hallway that stretched all the way to the other end of the building. On their right, a wall inset with a sparklingly clear window. Captain Rescue pressed his face against it, trying to figure out what was on the other side. Beyond the glass was a clear cell filled with a cloudy gas that obstructed their view of whatever was inside. As they came to the center of the hallway, the gang pair of automatic doorways that led into the center of the building. Next to the doorway, a panel against the wall glowed green. Captain Rescue glanced to the others, seeking permission to press it. The others just shrugged indifferently at him. It was not as if they had other, more pressing concerns; it would not be long before the apes broke their way in here, especially if George simply disintegrated the malfunctioning door with his super weapon. Captain Rescue pressed the panel, which beeped as the doors opened. He stepped through its threshold, followed closely by everyone else.

Inside the building’s belly, a large containment cell stretched a few stories upwards. Captain Rescue pressed the palm of his hand against the outer shell and then did the same with his face, straining to look through the fog at whatever this mysterious container contained. He exhaled deeply and watched the fog cover the plastic-like material before inhaling to shrink it. Captain Rescue was completely oblivious to the string of gasps that came from his friends as he sat there breathing against the cell, watching condensation appear and then disappear. The others kept perfectly quiet, afraid to say anything. Gradually, the hero realized that something quite large had been leaving its own condensation directly opposite his.

Captain Rescue gulped and stepped back. He peered into the cell, but the thick fog hid this mysterious prisoner. He reached forward and put his hand to the plastic-like material. Slowly, a pink form emerged from the depths of the fog and placed a scrawny pink hand up to this. Captain Rescue cooed like a little infant as Ralph pressed his snout against the cell, leaving a trail of moisture as he breathed against it. The dinosaur seemed lethargic, almost sedated, and soon curled up on the ground near the heroes.

“We have to get him out of there,” Captain Rescue cried desperately.

“Are you entire sure that’s wise?” Charlie replied as he leaned in towards the giant cell.

“I don’t care!”

“What if they brainwashed him to eat you.”

“Then I will be eaten,” Captain Rescue replied confidently.

“You’re awfully attached to a dinosaur you barely know.”

“I have known him for over three years.”

Dr. Malevolent twitched. “Not this again.”

Charlie put the puzzle pieces together: “That weird gas must be some kind of sedative to keep him from being too rambunctious or causing any trouble.”

Captain Rescue snatched the laser rifle loosely held by the bunny rabbit and slammed the butt of it against the cell. While this etched scuff marks across the face, the giant box made no signs of giving way. He ineptly flipped the rifle around, almost dropping it, and pulled the trigger. Laser-spray splattered against the cell like raindrops, giving those scuffmarks scorches to go along with them. All this work and the eggshell showed no signs of breaking and releasing the giant bird kept within.

Freight growled and pushed Captain Rescue aside, he would take it from here. The man placed the butt of his rifle upon the ground and rested it against his leg. He then placed his hands upon his square chin and gave his neck a loud pop. Freight picked the laser rifle back up, held it high into the air with both hands, and then stretched from left to right as his back popped in accordance. Mostly likely just showing off, he spun the rifle in his hands like a baton, eventually letting it stop with the butt facing Ralph’s cell. Freight leaned backwards like a lever ready to snap and then launched his arms forward. A low thump echoed through the room as the rifle collided with the cell, but the entire structure remained intact.

Captain Rescue chuckled, thinking that not even Freight could crack this egg. However, as everyone was quickly learning, nothing existed that Freight could not break—this included. Stretching out from the point of impact, cracks started to inch their way outwards, infecting the cell like a disease. Line upon line drew its way around, soon covering every inch of it. Freight cracked a smirk and then flicked the shell with his finger. It collapsed, spilling tiny glass shards on the ground like a droplet of water.

The thick grey smoke filling the chamber immediately flooded into the rest of the room. Within seconds, lethargy overtook the heroes, who suddenly felt compelled to lie down in the corner of the room and take a short catnap. Captain Rescue shook his head, trying to stay awake. Before his eyes rolled into the back of his head, he remembered something. The hero dove into his utility belt and pulled out a handful of tiny nose-sized respirators. He handed the crime fighting gadgets to the others. As they shoved the tiny white objects into their noses, Ralph lifted his head from the clouds and breathed fresh air for the first time in years. The pink Tyrannosaurus Rex let loose a formidable roar just as an explosion rocked the building’s entrance.

Chapter 17: Don’t Send a Monkey to do an Ape’s Job

George ducked as he entered building through the debris-riddled hole. Following in his wake, dozens of his underlings swarmed in with their laser rifles at the ready. The ape was sure that, by now, those humans had not only freed the dinosaur, but also the tranquilizing gas filling its prison. With any luck, George would find them all fast asleep and ripe for disintegration with the mammoth super weapon still perched on his shoulder. Maybe then, he could get a portrait of his own.

He turned left down the hallway, retracing their footsteps and letting his mind wander as he considered the portrait possibilities. Duplicating the dolphin’s artwork exactly would be lazy; he would have to do something original, something creative. Perhaps he could commission an artist to paint him standing upon a pile of dead humans. No, better yet, standing upon the ones he now chased with the stupid one’s stupid face clearly visible. The super weapon raised victoriously into the air with both hands.

George turned down the hallway, the dinosaur’s prison just on the other side of the wall. All was silent and the thinning fog made it difficult to tell what was going on inside the room. He strained to catch a glimpse of those damn humans, their giant pink friend, or anything in between, but all remained quiet. George stared into the containment room, waiting, watching. Then, flying out from the depths of the fog, the giant pink head of a Tyrannosaurus Rex struck the wall, sending his men stumbling, but George, much like Freight, never lost his balance. He glanced through the cracked glass before him and had just enough time to brace himself and his face as the dinosaur crashed once more into the wall, practically knocking it over and raining shards of glass on him and his men. The ape looked down the hallway to where the double sliding doors leading into the containment cell had fallen over and gas spilled into the hallway.

“Find them!” George bellowed in his own language. His men climbed through the broken windows and fallen doors. “And try not to get eaten while you’re at it,” he added.

The ape lifted his weapon, aimed it at the destroyed wall, and then began charging it. After a few seconds, he released the trigger and watched the orb melt into the debris, instantly disintegrating a large portion of it. George stepped into the room and waved the gas from his face. The ape scanned the area, looking for either his men or the dinosaur. A roar pierced his ears and he looked around, sure that the damn lizard was somewhere nearby. George spun around half expecting the beast to have somehow crept up behind him. It had not. He faced into the destroyed cage once more just as a single laser burst flew out of the fog and struck his shoulder. The ape did not budge a muscle as his suit absorbed the impact.

A caped purple figure pranced through the fog, visible for but a moment. George fired a slew of small red orbs at it, hoping to catch stupid and put him out of his misery for once and for all. As the orbs cut through the fog, vaporizing the grey smoke they came into contact with, an idea popped into the ape’s head. With his super weapon, he could easily get rid of all this fog and make his job, as well as the job of his simple-minded underlings, exponentially easier. Like a suave gangster with a tommy gun, George sprayed tiny red orbs across the room, eating away at the fog.

He pointed the weapon at the ceiling, started to charge it, and then waited. After the orb reached a ridiculous and frightening size, George released it and watched it float gradually upwards like a sunrise. The orb instantly disintegrated a portion of the ceiling as sunlight and pink rain poured into the building. The ape lips went crooked. He was unsure if this was a good or bad thing, but the bigfoot was willing to stand by the outcome regardless. George was an ape of conviction. So it did not appear accidental, he fired additional orbs of roughly the same size upwards, creating an undue amount of circular sunroofs.

George looked down. He could actually see now—see his allies lying dead on the floor, see those pesky humans hiding behind their even peskier giant pink dinosaur. He could see, as a large section of the ceiling collapsed, that installing all of those sunroofs was a bad idea. The ape, while no architect, should have suspected that disintegrating random pieces of a building would cause some major structural repercussions. Taking his minor failing in stride, George made his way around the rubble pile as more pieces of the ceiling fell strategically, and quite dramatically, all around him.

Within a few seconds, he could see his targets again and took aim just as the pink monstrosity took notice of him. It immediately tried to scare him off with one of those roar things it did. George would not let some lizard’s vain attempt at intimidating frighten him. He took aim and fired a miniscule orb that darted across the room, crashed into its hide, and did a whole lot of nothing. He held the trigger, charging up, and then released another orb that ambled its way over to the dinosaur. At the last second, Ralph ducked and the orb passed over his shoulders. The swirling energy hit the wall behind the dinosaur, carved a nice hole, and exposed the space-age material within.

George showed no signs of fear as the dinosaur began sprinting for him, its mouth curved into a snarl. The bigfoot lifted the weapon once more, charged an orb, and let it go a few seconds later. As the surprisingly nimble lizard easily evaded it, George looked down at the super weapon wondering who invented something so asinine. Anything with half a brain, be it human, dinosaur, ape, dolphin, or otherwise could easily avoid the projectiles. George should have read the instruction manual, he had no idea what the weapon’s true purpose was. He just liked big things. Staring down at the unwieldy weapon, he realized he probably had its purpose entirely wrong. Perhaps, the asinine inventor meant for it to clear debris. If that was the case, it did its job quite well.

George shrugged, dropped the useless weapon, and looked up just before a certain dinosaur crashed into him. Without missing a beat, the ape leapt out of the way. Then, in a feat of some kind of intelligence, the dinosaur spun around, crashed its snout into George’s chest, and sent him rocketing into the air. As Elvis left the building, he could see the loud, annoying human stories below scurry up to the giant weapon and pick it up. George rolled his eyes as he exited through one of the sunroofs he installed and entered the sky above the city. It was as if some unknown force had plucked him from the ground and now carried him away. Then, it let go. The ape felt himself plummeting fast towards the ground, and he only hoped that his armor could absorb the impact, or he would most definitely die. Then, the ape smacked the ground and everything went black.

***

George was unsure how long he lost consciousness, if at all. He sat up, grass stains lining his back. The ape looked towards the building that had just ejected him and then found himself startled by the dozen or so bigfoot that had crept up behind him and were now yelling at the back of his head for orders. Still dazed, George pointed at the dinosaur’s prison, giant sections of the roof missing, and yelled, “They’re in there!”

That, however, was soon to be a misnomer. At about the same time his underlings made a mad dash for the building, something came crashing through the wall—a certain purple-clad superhero riding atop a certain pink dinosaur. The giant lizard stood in the gaping hole and towered over the apes with rubble all around. It opened its jaws wide and roared a warning in their general direction, letting them know that if they did not back away now, the dinosaur would eat every one of them.

Chapter 18: Some Things Do Go According to Plan

With a tremendous roar, Ralph punched through the shattered remains of his prison and galloped headfirst into the cluster of dumbfounded apes before him, pinning a slower one underneath his massive talons while the others scattered like ants. Chuckling with prehistoric superiority, Ralph lowered his head, grabbed the bigfoot between his teeth, and gave it a sharp tug that tore it clean it two. Ralph tossed the severed and momentarily conscious torso into the air, and it spun end over end gushing blood like a fountain until hitting the ground inches in front of George, issuing him a direct challenge. The torso looked up to its leader; everything happened so fast that he had no idea his legs were gone or that blood spilled from the wound. His lights permanently went out as George stepped over him, ready to give these damn humans the fight they wanted.

The ape, ready to punch this lizard’s lights out, burst into sprint. Ralph gave a quick and thunderous roar and then lunged forward, unintentionally kicking the severed legs aside. They headed straight for each other while the bigfoot in their path leapt out of the way. While large himself, George was no dinosaur. Maybe the ape knew this, maybe he didn’t, but the fact he had no hesitation when sprinting straight for one only proved how deluded he was, deluded by awesomeness—and possibly the misconception that he was a prehistoric beast.

Just before the two crashed into each other, George leapt into the air and grabbed hold of the dinosaur’s tiny arm. Then, utilizing his primate prowess, he swung upwards letting his feet led the way to the dinosaur’s pink jaw, and then the two met in a monstrous crash. Ralph faltered, but righted himself quickly. The ape went around for another pass and gave the dinosaur another kick to the face. Again, the dinosaur faltered, but Ralph was no slouch and easily shook it off. Then, George got a little greedy. When he went around for thirds, Ralph snatched his leg between his teeth and threw the monkey off to the side as Captain Rescue cheered his dinosaur on. George hit the ground, rolled, and then got to his feet with his leg still intact due to the space-age armor protecting it.

While skimming the grass with his head, Ralph gave another monstrous bellow as George just stood there. After the dinosaur finished showing off, the ape took a step forward limping subtly. While the armor kept Ralph from tearing his leg off, it still hurt, and he might have even broken something. The ape decided to avoid the dinosaur and let it have its fun. He just laughed; George knew that despite their giant pink ally, his men had these pesky humans pinned down. It might take the rest of the day for the four of them to kill all of his men, and even then, he had many to spare.

***

With George’s super weapon perched upon his shoulder, Freight disintegrated ape after ape. As the nullifications enveloped him in a euphoric blood rage, he began laughing like a mad man as the bigfoot glowed bright red and then faded into the nothingness. He could get used to this future thing; or better yet, he could bring it back with him. Freight caught a glimpse of George standing arrogantly amidst the nullification and took aim for him. He let a decently sized orb charge before finally releasing it, watching as it headed straight for the monkey. For a moment, he thought he had George, who did not attempt to move. Instead, he just stood there smirking with his arms crossed. Freight watched the swirling ball of plasma hit the ape and do absolutely nothing, completely absorbed by his armor.

The giant man looked around. The damn dirty apes were closing in, and there was nothing he could do about it. To his left, Charlie took cover behind a pile of rubble while picking off what apes he could while trying his best not to get his head blown off. To Freight’s right, Dr. Malevolent was nowhere to be seen. Then, as if she knew he was looking for her, a single glob of plasma flew over his shoulder. Freight glanced behind to see the super villain hiding inside the building as she gave the small laser pistol a workout. Captain Rescue, strangely enough, was the only one really doing anything special, but he had a dinosaur, so that didn’t count. Then it hit Freight, they were not escaping, they were not going to get out of here alive. This was a last stand; they were going to die here. Freight shrugged indifferently. He always wanted to show death who was boss.

***

Captain Rescue cheered from atop Ralph’s shoulders as he and his pet fought off an army of bigfoot. Sure, he loved the apes; sure, he wanted to be their friend, but they were trying to murder him. As a laser burned a hole through his cape, the hero decided he did not need any more friends, which sucked for them. Captain Rescue was a great friend, and he would have Ralph here teach that small lesson the hard way.

He gave the dinosaur’s shoulder a pat as his head swept across the apes, knocking hordes of them over. Captain Rescue could do this all night, but it seemed George had other ideas in mind. Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Rescue could see a pair of apes carrying a large two-barreled weapon. He kept watching as the two apes handed it over to George, who lifted it onto his shoulder and aimed directly for Ralph. The hero slapped his dinosaur and pointed, and as Ralph shot a glance at George and his super weapon, the ape smiled and fired off two tether-bound cylinders.

The hero was unsure of this strange weapon’s purpose as the two shafts spread out and pulled the tether taut. He kept watching as the cable hit Ralph’s legs and immediately started to wrap around them. Captain Rescue held on for dear life as the dinosaur lost his balance and rocked from left to right. Finally, Ralph fell and threw the hero from his back. Captain Rescue smacked into the ground and rolled across the grass before coming to a stop and flinging his cape out of his eyes. He and his compadre exchanged glances as Ralph let out a compassionate cry and thrashed about. The dinosaur was intent on keeping the crowding bigfoot from getting too close to his master. He cried out again, urging Captain Rescue to get away while he still could. The hero climbed to his feet and outstretched both of his arms longingly as he backed away from Ralph.

“I’ll come back for you, I swear!” he yelled to the dinosaur.

Ralph cried out again to let Captain Rescue know that he loved him. He grew still as the bigfoot crowded around him as the hero sprinted towards Freight and the others.

Captain Rescue fell to his knees and beat against Freight’s chest. “Do something! You’ve got to do something!” he begged as the tears welled in his eyes.

Freight kicked the puny little man off him and shook his head. “We’ve got bigger problems.” He pointed over his shoulder.

Captain Rescue looked behind to see an army of bigfoot racing towards them. He let out a surprised cry and then darted into the nearby building through the hole in its wall. Dr. Malevolent and Charlie were already there, huffing and puffing.

Captain Rescue wiped his eyes clean and looked towards the others. “What are we going to do now?”

“Die!” Dr. Malevolent laughed.

Freight shrugged and nodded. “Yeah… that sounds about right.” The giant man sighed, and then revealed a bit of himself: “I wish Courtney were here so we could die together. At least I have… The Nullifier.”

“You named it?” Dr. Malevolent asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“I wish Ralph was here!” Captain Rescue cried out as the tears streamed from his eyes. He snatched Charlie’s laser rifle from his hands and slid the barrel into his mouth. Mumbling, he said his final goodbyes, “This is it, farewell. It was wonderful knowing you all!”

Just before pulling the trigger, an immense explosion rocked this building and the rest of Dolphin City. Captain Rescue slid the barrel out of his mouth, a trail of saliva connecting the two. The hero cringed and ran his tongue around his mouth to get the taste of laser out of it.

“What on Earth was that?” Charlie questioned.

Dr. Malevolent gave him a heartfelt suggestion: “Well, why don’t you go out and find out.”

Charlie snatched the laser rifle out of Captain Rescue’s hands, wiped the barrel clean with his plush hands, and then said, “I don’t mind if I do.” He slung the rifle over his shoulder and strutted to the giant hole in the wall. A surprised cough preceded his words, “You guys are gonna want to see this.”

Dr. Malevolent, Freight, and Captain Rescue crept up behind him, glanced over the bunny’s shoulder, and were floored by the sight. Someone had blast a giant hole into the nearest city wall, through which countless zombies now streamed. Their noble leader led the way; a corpse to end all corpses; a man who had lived more during his death than most do during their lives, Stubbs. He rode on the back of none other than the most majestic creature known to both man and corpse, an oddly familiar talking goat. The blast and ensuing corpses caught the apes off guard, and now their flank had a nice chunk missing out of it. After his mindless minions had the situation under control, Stubbs rode over to the gang. He saluted like a military commander on a battlefield and then laughed, hopped down from the goat, and gave it a good pat.

“Don’t pat me like I’m some common household pet!” the goat snarled.

Stubbs threw up his arms. “Sorry!” Behind him, the zombies clashed with the bigfoot in a cataclysmic battle.

Clearly antsy, Captain Rescue motioned at the bound Ralph and then looked at Stubbs. “I love you; I’m glad you’re back, and you too,” he added with a look at the goat, “but please tell your… zombies… not to eat Ralph.”

The whimpering dinosaur was growing increasingly anxious as zombies, bigfoot, and bigfoot zombies fell all around him.

Stubbs placed a comforting hand upon Captain Rescue’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, old friend. Your dinosaur is safe. Those monkeys, however, are as good as dead.”

Captain Rescue smiled a crazy smile and gave the zombie a giant hug, smearing his deteriorated body all over his costume.

“Please,” Stubbs said, his voice muffled against the hero’s spandex, “before you scape every inch of me away.”

Captain Rescue jumped away from the zombie, suddenly realizing how much of him now coated his costume. “Wow, I’m so sorry. Do you want any of this back?”

“No… you keep it.”

The hero’s face went cross as he began brushing away the bits of rotten tissue from his spandex. “But I don’t want any of it!”

Freight cleared his throat and stretched before flinging The Nullifier onto his shoulder. “I’m going out to play.”

After watching the battle transpire for the last five minutes, the giant man ached to get in there and nullify some apes. Freight stepped through the wall’s threshold and wasted no time in firing swirling red orbs of doom at anything that moved. The boredom in his eyes faded to excitement and a wide grin gradually adorned his face. He was having the time of his life.

Stubbs and the others stepped up behind him, and as the zombie watched Freight nullify one of his brethren, the corpse said, “Would you kindly refrain from killing too many of my people?”

“But they’re already dead,” Freight grumbled. He went back to slaying bigfoot, but as he watched apes lying dead on the ground get up and start eating their living counterparts, he added, “What do you care? You’re going to come out of this with more of ‘your people’ than you went in with!”

“Come on!” Captain Rescue urged, “we’re wasting time here!?”

“What are you yammering on about?” Dr. Malevolent sighed.

“Ralph, we have to free him!”

When Captain Rescue realized by the look on their faces that no one had any plans to help him free his best friend, he shoved Freight from behind and knocked The Nullifier from his hands. The hero pushed the mammoth man aside, grabbed his weapon, and headed straight for Ralph. Since The Nullifier was far too heavy for Captain Rescue to lift, he let it drag across the grass behind him as it left a noticeable path in its wake. As Captain Rescue neared, the dinosaur ceased his trashing and instead began whimpering.

He knelt down next to the Ralph’s legs and the cable wrapped around them. Not trusting himself enough to use pick up or aim the weapon, Captain Rescue placed The Nullifier’s tip next to the cable. His best friend grew still knowing that if this went badly, he might lose a leg or two, legs that he had grown to love. Captain Rescue held his breath and tapped the trigger once. A tiny red orb disintegrated a small portion of the cable. He tapped the trigger once more, holding a fraction of a second longer this time. The cable snapped in two, freeing his best friend. With an excited roar, Ralph sprang to his feet, wrapped its tail around Captain Rescue, and hoisted the hero onto his back. With the two of them reunited, now they could rampage through this city and destroy anything that stood in their way. As the hero positioned himself upon the dinosaur’s back, Freight darted up to them, grabbed The Nullifier, growled, and then darted away.

An added advantage of being perched upon a dinosaur was that Captain Rescue could now see far and wide. A few dozen yards away, he noticed George fisticuffing with zombies of both the human and ape varieties. Since the bigfoot had about the same levels of badass in him as Freight, chances were the zombies stood no chance. Captain Rescue and Ralph would have to take care of this monster by themselves. It was not long before George stared up to the hero and his steed. As his and Ralph’s eyes interlocked, Captain Rescue pointed at the armor-clad monkey, instructing his dinosaur to sic ‘em. A sharp roar echoed as Ralph began his slow and steady romp across the battlefield. His giant taloned feet crushed anything that got in the way, leaving a trail of corpses and the occasional poorly placed building in his wake.

Marching from the other side of the battlefield, a certain ape was ready to commence round two of their little boxing match. George kept his eyes locked on the dinosaur; he was going to defeat this beast once and for all, and he wasn’t going to break eye contact until he did it. As his feet pounded the soft grass, a zombie lunged at George. His hand shot out, grabbed the creature by the neck, and simply threw it to the side while continuing to stare at the pink behemoth. As the two neared once more in preparation for another intense duel, Ralph lowered his head and let loose a roar that sent a shockwave of intimidation across the battlefield, knocking over everything in his path.

As George marched on, the ape kicked aside bigfoot and zombies that were trying to get back to their feet after the roar threw them to the ground. Once the two had come reasonably close to each other, the ape leaned forward and suddenly erupted into full sprint, commencing his charge. Foot after foot pounded against the grass, popping the occasional zombie head and smearing putrid goo all over. In response to George’s abrupt aggression, Ralph decided to show the puny little monkey how a real badass sprints. The dinosaur began by throwing its massive head into the air and roaring. Then, it threw one foot forward, slamming it into the soft earth, and the zombie that happened to get caught underneath.

The two forces headed straight for each other, and when this collision finally occurred, hopefully the resulting chaos would not tear the very fabric of the universe asunder. George leapt into the air and put one arm forward as a superhero would in flight. The ape wanted to knock this dinosaur off balance, to bring it to the ground, but Ralph, both the smartest Tyrannosaurs Rex in existence and—the only, had learned from his mistakes. As George careened towards him, practically flying, the dinosaur lunged forward, and, with a sharp jerk of its snout, snatched the monkey right out of the air.

George suddenly felt enough pressure bearing down on him to inflict some real damage regardless of the space-age armor protecting him. As bones shattered and the fragments pierced every organ in his body, the ape realized how foolish he was to pick a fight with a prehistoric beast. And that, in all likelihood, he was not one himself. As Ralph opened its mouth, George slipped from between his razor sharp teeth and fell to the ground. The dinosaur lifted its massive foot into the air and then slammed it down on top of the ape, adding icing to this mortally wounded cake. Ralph pulled his foot away and gazed down in triumph.

George glared at the dinosaur that had done him in and the superhero climbing down from his back. Captain Rescue hit the ground kneeling as his cape draped over his shoulders. All of the scorch marks and holes covering the symbol of heroism gave it loads more character than the hero would ever have. Captain Rescue rose to his feet and stared at George with a bright smile across his face. As blood filled his lungs and the ape gasped for breath, Captain Rescue strutted to him and placed a foot upon his chest.

“So Curious George,” Captain Rescue began, “how does it feel to be on the losing side?”

“Losing?” the obstinate ape gasped as the life drained from it. “You’ve gained nothing with my death.”

Captain Rescue grinded his foot into George’s chest as he cringed in quiet pain. “I’d say I’ve gained some… good feelings!”

The ape let out a blood-filled laugh. “Those good feelings won’t help you against my masters. You cannot beat them, they are too powerful.”

Captain Rescue threw his arms into the air. “Look at the destruction we’ve caused, they can’t be all that powerful!”

In his last gasp of breath, George lifted his arm and pointed at the hero. “There’s nothing you or your friends can do to stop them now; things have already been set into motion.”

The ape grew quiet and dropped his arm to his side as he finally died.

“Whew, that took long enough.” Captain Rescue kicked the corpse. “You are damn boring.”

The hero surveyed the battlefield, laughed, and then kicked George one last time. All around, zombies had eaten the bigfoot into submission. Any ape not slain and reanimated had fled for cover. Out of the corner of his eye, the hero saw Freight randomly nullify a bigfoot zombie and then shrug his shoulders indifferently as Stubbs demeaned him.

“Over here,” Captain Rescue yelled. “Come look what I did!”

They jogged over to him and the dead ape.

“Oh,” Dr. Malevolent began, “you did this?”

“I sure did!” Captain Rescue exclaimed.

She pointed at Ralph. “Are you sure he didn’t have anything to do with this?”

“Well, I mean… he helped,” the hero replied as Ralph gave an excited roar. The dinosaur was proud of his accomplishments, and who could blame him. It was not every day you get the opportunity to kill a bigfoot, but the amount killed today would certain make up for that.

“Did he say anything profound before he died?” Charlie asked Captain Rescue.

“The stupid monkey just tried to rain on my parade.”

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “I can’t imagine why ‘the stupid monkey’ would ever want to do anything like that! And, for the record, pretty sure these guys are apes not monkeys.”

Captain Rescue put on his arrogance cap. “I know that! It’s just more demeaning to call them monkeys.”

“I guess that’s a valid point, you monkey.”

“Hey! I’m not a monkey!”

“I know that! It’s just more demeaning that way.”

“Oh,” Captain Rescue said depressingly as he realized what just happened.

Before their victory set in, Freight raised his arm and pointed straight at the nearby spire. “You’re next!” he barked.

Captain Rescue looked at the tower and then looked at Freight. “You know, I think it might actually be able to hear you now.”

“You shut up!” Freight continued, “or I’ll clear a spot in my schedule for you! Now, zombie, get your smelly friends out of the way before I clear a spot for them too.”

Stubbs gave him an odd look, turned to his brethren, raised both his arms into the air, and then spread them slowly as all the zombies reacted accordingly.

“Did you really have to do that thing with your arms?” Charlie asked.

“Of course not, but I have a thing for showmanship.”

Freight marched towards the spire.

As everyone, even Stubbs, joined in behind him, Charlie turned to the zombie. “Oh, you’re joining us?”

“Yeah, sure. Got a problem with it?”

“Not at all, but what will happen to your pets when you’re inside the building?”

“Uh… autopilot on?”

Charlie nodded and then they walked in silence through the zombies. It was an odd scene; as if the zombies were crowd members and they were floats in a parade. Captain Rescue waved to the undead like a beautiful starlet riding upon a beautiful float. The corpses just stood there staring at them, surely wishing that they could eat the humans despite the invisible force holding them back.

Freight stopped when the spire came within a dozen yards of them, and its immense heights blotted out the sun. He lifted The Nullifier and placed it upon his shoulder, and then spoke slowly, ominously, “I… suspect… lasers.”

They must have heard them, those dastardly lasers, for as soon as he finished his words, a red burst of energy shot out from the tower and vaporized a random zombie.

“Ah yes,” Freight spoke, “they know we’re here.” He stepped in front of the others and pointed to the tower. “I will handle this. You all stay back and try not to die.”

Freight marched forward with The Nullifier perched upon his shoulder. As the laser vaporized another zombie, the symbol of manhood pointed his weapon towards the building, charged an orb, and then fired it off. A flash of red accompanied an eerie, disturbing electronic wail as one of the lasers bit the dust.

“Come get me, you robotic pansies!” Freight bellowed.

Another red laser shot out from the spire, and he simply sidestepped it before it could vaporize him. Freight aimed The Nullifier once more and murdered another laser. After more than five minutes of indiscriminate carnage, only the symbol of manhood stood tall; over a dozen lasers were not so lucky. Even so, Freight treaded lightly, sure that these robots had an encore planned for him, and sure enough, as he and the others approached the spire’s entrance, a turret shot out of the building and was vaporized before it even had a chance to think—and computers think fast.

Dolphins did many things well. From conquering humanity (Dr. Malevolent could learn a thing or two) to enslaving semi intelligent apes. Because of this, it was no surprise that this tower frightened even Freight. Staring up at the immense black structure, the man could feel his stomach churn, a startling notion even for him. His psyche then proceeded to beat the living crap out of this fear, and all was well. Like a mix between the other futuristic structures and something straight out of Hell, the spire loomed before them. At its very pinnacle, some evil dolphin was probably watching them through some space-age device.

The gang stood before a door of some kind, but no knob or panel existed to twist or press, and there was no bell to ring. Simply put, the gang had no idea how to get inside the tower so they could retrieve the magical lamp, but Freight had a solution for every problem, an unnecessary and excessive solution, but a solution. He pointed The Nullifier at the supposed entrance and held the trigger until a massive orb glowed before the gang. When the problem solver released the trigger, the orb basically ate the doorway and left a gaping hole in its place. Freight smirked and entered the spire.

Chapter 19: Back From the Future

Freight burst into the spire and swung the heavy weapon around, but the lobby had little for him to flex his nullification muscles on. He threw the weapon over his shoulder and sighed as the others came in behind him. All around, strange décor covered the walls, white abstract lines upon smooth black panels—probably intended to hypnotize any caught in their gaze. The entrance stretched about thirty feet into the spire as perfectly smooth and circular columns lined the left and right sides. At the far end, a solitary elevator was the only way out of here, unless Freight started making holes of his own.

Feet clattered against the glossy black floor tiles as they traversed the lobby, and the abstract white lines, alive and aware of their presence, flowed in rhythm to their footsteps. As the group stopped, so did the lines. Captain Rescue waved at them, and in return, they formed a disembodied hand and waved back. The hero and the lines continued greeting each other as his friends resumed their journey across the lobby. Once Captain Rescue’s feet finally resumed their shuffle, so did the lines. The gang reached the halfway point and the rather large elevator opened its doors, luring them closer.

“Hold on a second!” Dr. Malevolent said with a very apparent twinge of annoyance.

Charlie immediately knew right where the good doctor was headed. “Yeah, it’s probably a trap.”

“And you’re okay with this?”

“I like traps,” Captain Rescue’s absentminded voice trailed off as he pondered on the many ways one could kill him.

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t really see any other option. We need that lamp.”

“And if the elevator kills us?”

“Well… then we won’t need the lamp.”

Dr. Malevolent just shook her head and laughed at his sarcasm.

The doors opened and closed a few more times in an impatient attempt to hurry the gang up. Heedlessly, Captain Rescue pranced into the elevator and waved everyone else in, but before they could enter, the doors closed around the hero, and he yelped like a frightened child. Lights above the death trap began to flicker as Dr. Malevolent glanced down at her watch in boredom. With the elevator shaking violently, Captain Rescue began to scream bloody murder until everything went quiet. Then, shoots to the left and right of the death chamber opened and a thick red liquid drained out.

Dr. Malevolent wiped a spec of blood from her eyelid. “See, I told you it was a trap.”

The doors opened once more, revealing an empty elevator. Just when the death of Captain Rescue had begun to set it, he jumped out from the corner and yelled, “Boo!”

“You are something else,” the super villain sighed.

Captain Rescue ignored her words and patted the elevator. “Good one, buddy.”

The elevator chirped gleefully.

Freight stuck his finger into the red puddle and then licked the tip. “This blood—it is real.”

In response, the elevator played a series of low, ominous chirps.

Captain Rescue shrugged as the others climbed into the elevator.

“Would you leave that hunk of junk behind,” Dr. Malevolent said as she pointed at Freight’s nullifier.

“Why would I ever do something that foolish?” Freight replied as he hunched over and backed his way into the elevator. The Nullifier scraped across the ground, cutting marks into the tiles.

As the pair of elevator doors shut and melded together as one, a single button emerged from within the seamless dark grey wall and beckoned their touch. Captain Rescue, who could not really resist touching anything that beckoned him, reached a hand forward and almost pressed the button when Dr. Malevolent swatted his hand away.

Before she could say anything, Captain Rescue spun around snarling at her, “We came here to save the world, now we’re in an elevator with no exit, and the only thing we can do is press this button! So, let me press it!”

She threw her hands up. “Your funeral!”

He smacked the button with the tip of his finger. “Damn right it is!”

The elevator began its ascent immediately as the lights lining both sides blinked upwards.

Captain Rescue whistled nonchalantly and soon asked, “So elevator, how high are we going?”

The elevator made a series of beeps, starting at a low pitch and growing higher.

“Oh, that high?”

The elevator beeped once and ascended even faster. As floor after floor zipped past, Captain Rescue could feel himself getting heavier, but he had no clue why—an understanding of this gravity thing eluded him to this day. He straightened his posture and clenched every muscle in his body to avoid pancakeification. When the ride finished, the elevator stopped abruptly and Captain Rescue felt himself become immediately lighter, almost lifted off the ground. The button disappeared back into the elevator and the seam separating the two doors reappeared. The elevator waited there for a few seconds, teasing the gang before opening up. Then, just like one of its more simple-minded counterparts, it rang a high bitched chime and slid open its doors. The heroes were immediately blinded by an immense amount of whiteness. In a dark stronghold such as this, it was no wonder something so white was so unexpected. After the gang left the elevator, it beeped goodbye, closed its doors, and disappeared into the wall.

The fashion designer who decorated this futuristic castle of death must have forgotten about this empty chamber, because it contained no furnishings what so ever. The gang stepped forward as their feet clattered against the smooth white floor, which connected directly to the smooth white walls, and those smooth white walls connected directly to the smooth white ceiling. The elevator had dropped them off in a claustrophobic cube of whiteness. As the gang approached the center, unsure of what exactly the purpose of all this was, a small hole appeared in the ceiling and then expanded to a size large enough to fit something like a dolphin through, and then their enemy appeared.

Floating on smooth dark grey batwings, a dolphin descended into the claustrophobic cube of whiteness. This creature had taken genetic modification to the next level, the bonus stage. It had done away with both flippers and its fluke and replaced them with human-like arms and legs. The dolphin/human/bat hybrid stared down at the gang as its eyes sparkled with condemnation as well as insanity. No armor of any kind protected this dolphin, or clothes for that matter, it was just the way God never intended it to be. In one hand it held the magical lamp they needed to get out of this psych ward, and in the other, for some reason, it had Freight’s shotgun.

The lumberjack pointed his beloved and bellowed an ultimatum, “Hand over the shotgun, and maybe the lamp, and I won’t tear those wings off.”

The dolphin cackled maniacally, and then replied in a high-pitched wail that matched its high-pitched, ear-piercing voice, “THIS? This thing? You want it? You can have it! I thought maybe it was special, the way you talk to it all the time, but it’s just a weapon, a boring weapon!”

The shotgun tumbled from the batolphin’s hand. Freight jumped into action as he released his grip on The Nullifier and let it fall to the ground. The giant man leapt into the air and snatched Courtney. He held the shotgun close and kissed it, a passionate kiss of two lovers reunited. Freight flipped it around and fired at this freak of an adversary, who darted out of the slug’s paths in the blink of an eye. He frowned and shoved the shotgun under his belt for safekeeping.

“I am far too powerful for you and your puny little weapon to defeat!”

Dr. Malevolent raised her hand. “Actually, we can just take the lamp and leave, and you can continue to do whatever it is you’re doing here unimpeded.”

“Do you actually believe I am that foolish?”

“Uh,” she paused, “I’d hoped so, yes.”

“Then you were gravely mistaken, for this tower shall be your tomb!”

The heroes could feel the entire spire erupt into a mild earthquake that shook them off balance.

“What’s this witchcraft?!” Captain Rescue bellowed, scared he would soon be turned into a toad.

“This… witchcraft,” the batolphin cackled, “is simply dolphin engineering at its finest. You see, this spire isn’t just a building, it’s an extension of me.”

The gang could suddenly feel the entire building start to shake and vibrate, and then rhythmic pounding, as if it were walking.

Charlie laughed. “Where… are you taking us?”

The dolphin glanced around suspiciously, insanely. “Nowhere, just out for a stroll!”

“So, uh,” Captain Rescue began, “if this entire building is a body, and we are in the middle of it, then… are we in your stomach?”

“Yes! Yes! Stomach, perfect comparison!”

Charlie gulped. “I certainly don’t like the sound of that.”

“So,” the flying creature said as four shoots opened and a bubbling opaque liquid began pouring down from the ceiling, “without further ado, prepare for digestion!”

Captain Rescue’s teeth clattered. “That would be stomach acid then wouldn’t it.”

“Why yes, I would imagine so,” Charlie answered.

The acid poured onto the reinforced floor and then started to inch its way towards them, leaving the gang with a finite amount of time before it ate them alive. Not a fan of being eaten alive, Captain Rescue screeched and hopped into Freight’s arms. In return, the giant man just growled and dropped him to his butt. In a panic, the hero got to his feet as the acid crept closer. He began jumping up and down hoping that maybe, just maybe, he could sprout wings and fly. If this dolphin could do it, there was nothing other than reality preventing Captain Rescue from flying too—except, of course, extensive genetic manipulation and future-madness. His garden variety of madness just would not cut it.

As the acid crept ever closer, Freight preventatively lifted The Nullifier off the ground and onto his shoulder.

Dr. Malevolent grabbed the weapon by the barrel. “Would you please get rid of that thing?”

“No, I will not.”

With one hand, Dr. Malevolent grabbed the weapon’s tip and tried to yank it from him, but Freight refused to let go. Her other hand entered the fray, and the two snarled at each other as they fought over the behemoth weapon. Then, without warning, it began creating an orb and the two of them, to avoid unwarranted nullification, abruptly ended their feud. Dr. Malevolent took a step back and removed her finger from the trigger as a swirling red orb flew towards the ceiling. The gang watched as this orb struck the smooth white material and instantly disintegrated it, leaving behind a nice hole and a light bulb over the weapon.

Freight pointed at the corner of the room, where a column of acid spilled onto the floor, “Let’s Swiss Cheese this mother fu—”

“Language!” Captain Rescue interrupted.

Freight took aim for the base of an acid waterfall and released an orb that melted straight through the floor. The lumberjack then melted holes beneath the other three waterfalls. He waited patiently, and just before the acid could burn its way through the soles of their shoes, the sea began to recede. The noxious liquid drained through the floor and into the rest of the building to wreak untold havoc. Freight pointed The Nullifier at the flying dolphin.

“Your move,” he taunted.

The dolphin’s wings beat faster and faster in frustration, and then it let out a defeating cry. “This minor victory… will not save you! You’re doomed! All of you! Doomed!”

“You are all sorts of insane, aren’t you?” Freight asked as he fired a thick, expansive volley of tiny orbs as the dolphin. The creature tried as it might to avoid them, but a few of swirling red orbs pierced its thin batwings. As the dolphin began careening out of control, Freight dove into his pocket, grabbed one of the urinal cakes, and took aim.

The dolphin righted itself, hovered haphazardly in midnight, and let out another maniacal cackle. “That? What do you plan to do with that? I haven’t used the restroom in years!”

Freight grinned at the insane creature. “This? This isn’t for you.”

The dolphin looked curiously on as Freight pulled his arm back. Then, with a manly thrust, he launched the urinal cake at the batdolphin. At nearly the speed of a bullet, the cake rocketed through the air. Then, with a resonating ding, it hit its mark and the lamp flew from the dolphin’s hands. It tumbled end over end as the flying creature darted for it, impeded by its wounded wings. Dr. Malevolent let out a startled gasp as Freight wrapped his hand around her waist and launched her into the air. She went with it anyway and crashed shoulder-first into the wounded dolphin, snatched the lamp out from under it, and landed like a cat upon the ground. It let out an ear-piercing cry, and then, without saying goodbye, the dolphin began to spin violently fast before suddenly disappearing as it jumped to some other time and place.

Freight and the others had only moments to bask in the glory of their success over the forces of evil before the entire spire started to come down around them. The acid had seeped into every nook and granny, giving this spire a bad case of the cramps. Now, it was coming down all around them—and violently.

“We’re all gonna die!” Captain Rescue wailed as he got to his hands and knees and buried his head between his legs.

“What on earth are you doing out there,” the familiar voice of a genie said from inside its tiny lamp. Greg then suddenly appeared hovering before them. “What did you idiots manage to get yourself into now?”

Without saying a word, Freight pointed The Nullifier at the nearest wall and fired a massive orb to create a makeshift window for them to look through as they fell to their deaths.

“The situation,” Dr. Malevolent said with hurried composure as she pointed out the window, “is spiraling out of control.”

The bright pink sky faded to dark green zombie-covered grass as the robotic building fell. The destructive process dispelled the expansive energy field, which turned the sky blue and returned Greg’s more useful powers. Outside, the collapsing building created a scene that flew at them like a photographer pressing the zoom function. One by one, zombies gazed upwards and stared at the building about to crash down on their heads.

Captain Rescue, still on his hands and knees, crawled over to the genie and begged him to save their lives. “Please, you’ve got to do something! Save us! Save us!” His face went blank for a moment as he suddenly remembered something. “Save Ralph too!”

“I really don’t think there’s enough room in the lamp for your dinosaur, as much as I hate to say it, or actually, I derive much enjoyment out of your suffering.”

Captain Rescue opened his mouth to speak once more, but could not. He glanced around, confused, realizing no one else could talk either.

“Now, that you’ve all shut up,” Greg started, “or, now that I’ve shut you up, the plan all along was to save you pitiful creatures, so just sit tight, and yes, I’ll save you dumb dinosaur too.”

Captain Rescue could not find the words to describe the panic he felt (literally), so he just pointed at the perfectly circular window, in which the ground flew at them at an alarming rate. The genie had no intention of letting any of them die, but every intention of letting them think they were, so Greg just floated there in the center of the room while watching Captain Rescue gradually lose himself to panic. On the other side of the room, the gravity-commandeered nullifier flew from Freight’s hands and might have impaled Dr. Malevolent if she were not so quick on her feet. Just before allowing the ground to leave grass stains down to their colons, the genie blinked and instantly teleported everyone into the lamp, which—as a matter of fact—was still inside the spire as it collapsed. With the dampening field no longer dampening, the genie was free to repair the lamp instantly and whisk them away to some place safe.

After a blinding white light, Captain Rescue’s frantic panting slowed as he realized the walls surrounding him were no longer that of a collapsing building. The genie had done it. Or—had he? The hero’s face went white. Maybe this was death. Captain Rescue leapt to his feet and patted himself up and down to see if all his pieces were in order and that those pieces were not in the afterlife. After becoming reasonably sure that he was not six feet under, Captain Rescue sighed happily and looked around at the golden lamp protecting him. He slowly composed himself, and just in time.

“Ugh!” a voice across the lamp grunted. The hero spun around to see Stubbs on the floor missing both his legs.

“Stubbs!” Captain Rescue exclaimed. “What happened to your legs?!”

The zombie glared at him. “I don’t know. They were there the last time I checked.”

“Uh… oops?” Greg said as he hovered over to the zombie.

Captain Rescue fell to his knees beside the zombie, and then shot a furious stare at Greg. “What did you do to him, you monster!”

“As much as I’d like to say this was intentional. It wasn’t. Teleporting living… or unliving... entities through time and space is tricky.” He turned to the living and laughed. “I guess you guys should be happy that happened to the dead guy and not any of you!”

Stubbs growled, “Can’t you do something to fix it?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t lose your head, you filthy zombie, but yes, I can fix it.”

As Greg began thrusting his arms into the air, lifting an unimaginably heavy object, twisting, eel-like light enveloped the zombie and then picked him up off the ground. The energy swirled around Stubbs, and within a few seconds, reconstruction of the zombie began. Piece by piece his legs came together and soon resembled their former shambling selves, but it did not stop there. As the spectacle continued, muscles, ligaments, organs, veins—all of it—began to fill the zombie’s body. Scars disappeared, hair reappeared, and cracked lips returned to their lovely pink selves.

Stubbs fell to the ground completely remade. “Am I… am I… alive?” the zombie stuttered still trying to understand what just happened.

The genie laughed. “No, I’m not a god—at least not quite. You’re still dead as a doornail. I’ve just ceased decomposition entirely and made you as good as you can be without blood pumping through your veins.”

The zombie, if you could still call him that, smiled brightly.

“Don’t get too excited, you won’t heal. So if you do something stupid, which you undoubtedly will, you’ll have to live with the damage for the rest of your life.” The genie paused for a moment. “Actually, you won’t age either, so you could live as long as you manage to keep yourself together.”

Captain Rescue frowned. “Why does he get the super powers?!”

Before anyone could reply, the hero screeched as he felt something tickle his pant leg. He glanced down and saw a miniature Ralph rubbing against him affectionately.

“Buddy!” Captain Rescue cheered, “You made it! You’re safe! And you’re… small!” He reached down and picked up the cat-sized dinosaur then cradled it in his arms. The hero turned away from Ralph, afraid that the dinosaur would hear his following words. “He’s not stuck this size is he?” Captain Rescue whispered to Greg.

“Not permanently, no,” the genie replied.

The hero breathed a sigh of relief and then looked down at his dinosaur. He shot a glance to Greg, and then back to the dinosaur, and then back to Greg again.

“Out with it, you retard,” Greg growled.

“Could you… possibly… change his color? To something… not pink?”

The genie grumbled, “What would you like?”

“His natural color will do just fine!”

Sarcastically, the genie pointed at the dinosaur and then made circles with its finger. Greg yanked his hand away, pulling the dinosaur’s pink hue along with it, which evaporated like a small pink cloud.

“I thought I said his natural colors,” Captain Rescue said, visibly annoyed. In his hands, Ralph had shifted to a dark red dinosaur with a blue underbelly.

“That’s Ralph in his natural glory.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The genie shrugged. “Believe it or not. I could take you back to the Jurassic period if you wish to check for yourself.”

“No… no, I kind of like it, he looks sharp,” Captain Rescue said as he set Ralph down, who wandered off to mark his territory.

Within a few seconds, the hero had turned his attention to the vending machine that had indirectly sent them here in the first place. “So, uh, where we headed?” he asked as he wandered over to it.

Captain Rescue leaned in and inspected the buttons, trying to decide which vintage soft drink to enjoy this time around. One by one, his fingers softly caressed each rectangular block of plastic. Just before making his decision, the entire machine went dark. Dazed and confused, Captain Rescue glanced around and eventually found Dr. Malevolent leaning against the golden curved wall of the lamp twirling the plug for the vending machine.

“We’ll have none of that this time around,” she said.

“Fine, then I need to get some fresh air,” the hero whined.

“You’ve been in here for five minutes.”

“I don’t see your point.”

“My point is you don’t need fresh air, your lungs haven’t gotten used to the air that’s in them yet,” Dr. Malevolent elaborated.

“What have my lungs got to do with this?”

“Okay, can we please let him out?”

“Yeah, can we please let me out?” Captain Rescue repeated.

Charlie twitched. “You don’t wanna go out there.”

“And why not?”

“Well, and I’m not certain on this, but I don’t think there’s anything to go out to.”

Greg nodded irritably, snapped his fingers, and conjured portholes along both sides of the lamp. Outside, the twisting nothingness of trans-dimensional space glowed and pulsated in beautiful colors and designs. Captain Rescue stared wondrously at the array of designs encompassing every color imaginable—and many that were not. At the genie’s command, the lamp could instantly appear in any time or space, or it could hover here in the infinite prettiness for as long as desired.

“Pretty,” the hero’s words left his mouth lethargically as he stared through the porthole, lost in a trans-dimensional daydream. “How long till we get back home?” he asked.

“Oh, we can show up there at any time you want, but I don’t think you’ll like what you find,” the genie replied as he fiddled around with some console.

Captain Rescue snapped out of his lethargic daze. “What do you mean?!”

“Well, if you’re that interested, let me show you.”

An ominous melody, hummed by Freight, played through the magical lamp as Greg pressed the necessary buttons on the control console. The twisting colors that Captain Rescue found so enthralling drifted away immediately, replaced with dark skies and grey clouds, which zipped by at ridiculous enough speeds to make their pint-sized craft practical. The view outside the portholes appeared anything but normal, definitely not the world they lived in, fought for, and, in Dr. Malevolent’s case, tried to take over.

Captain Rescue, wide eyed and pale, backed away from the porthole. “Did we take a wrong turn?”

“No,” Greg said, fiddling with the controls, “this is the right time and place.”

The hero slammed his forehead against the porthole. “Oh God, we broke it, we broke it!”

Charlie, while not exactly an expert on the repercussions of space-time manipulation, but still versed in their many subtleties, added with a hand upon his bunny chin, “I don’t believe we’re to blame for what’s happened here.”

At speeds that would make a hummingbird jealous, their wee little vessel whisked through a world in ruins. Decimated by some unknown catastrophe, snow covered much of the ground and impenetrable clouds hid the skies. Buildings in every direction lay in rubble, knocked down by a mighty shockwave, and only a few shattered husks remained. Within a few minutes, they reached the epicenter’s border, a vast crater spanning as far as the eye could see.

“How could such a thing happen!?” Captain Rescue cried as he slammed his fists against the porthole, tears welling in his eye. “How?!”

“According to the diagnostics,” the Genie said as he ran his gaseous fingers across the controls for dramatic effect, “this is a disaster of… dolphin proportions!”

Dr. Malevolent scratched her eyebrow and winced. “Your lamp can detect these ‘dolphin proportions’?”

“Actually no, but that can.” The genie pointed outside the window to a statue on the cusp of the great crater—a statue of a dolphin standing triumphantly. Greg flew the magical lamp closer, so they could get a better look. Upon it, an engraving read:

Operation: “Blow Them Humans Sky High” Successful.

“Those bastards!” Captain Rescue cried out, spewing tears and mucus all over the porthole. “We have to do something! We have to fix this!”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Greg started, “it does look nice now… peaceful… quiet. I could get used to this.”

“I don’t want to get used to it!” the hero said, still quite broken up about the end of civilization.

“I guess we could go farther back and time and try to prevent the bomb from going off; that’s our best bet,” the bunny suggested.

“Let’s do it!” Captain Rescue cheered.

“We just have to figure out when that was, the bomb going off.”

Proving that she lived up to her name in some degree, Dr. Malevolent said, “Can’t we use all this destruction to somehow determine when this explosion happened?”

Captain Rescue began drooling. “That sounds hard.”

“Well… yeah, but I bet Greg’s magical lamp can pull it off somehow? Can’t it?”

“Damn it! You filthy meatbags, I’m a genie, not a scientist,” Greg replied almost jokingly.

“Well, be proactive and ask your lamp!” Dr. Malevolent argued.

The genie, thinking himself the clever sort, knelt down next to the control console and began speaking at it, “Computer, when did this explosion happen?”

“Fifty years,” a voice replied.

Greg sprouted a pair of legs and stumbled backwards, awestruck. “I did not know it could do that.”

“What do you mean you didn’t know? It’s your lamp,” Dr. Malevolent mocked.

To which Greg replied, “I uh... I might have stolen it.”

“How does a genie steal a magical lamp, pray tell?”

The genie’s posture straightened, and he collected himself. “That’s really a story for another time.”

“A genie that steals magical lamps,” Captain Rescue cheered, “that sounds fantastic!”

“Yes, well, let’s save the world first.” Greg laughed to himself as he knelt down next to the console, “Uh… computer, take us… one hour before this explosion.”

“Understood.”

Chapter 20: Last Detour, Promise

Captain Rescue stared out the portholes once more, distracted by the dazzling colors and beautiful designs outside. The thoughts of his sundered home quickly left the hero’s mind and were replaced by pleasanter ones—ones that made him giggle and clap like an adolescent schoolgirl. He pouted as those beautiful colors faded, replaced with a world fifty years in the past. Their fair city’s layout appeared roughly the same—a few less buildings, a few more trees, but it was theirs.

“I don’t see any dolphins,” Captain Rescue said, sure that he would be able spot them with ease.

Greg shrugged his orange shoulders. “This is where the bomb’s going off in an hour, so this is where they have to be.”

“They won’t just drop it down a portal when the time comes, will they?” Dr. Malevolent questioned.

“I hope not,” Freight clutched Courtney tightly, “that would make our job a lot less fun.”

Greg chuckled, “Computer, can you detect where this bomb is going off?”

“One hundred and fifty meters underground,” it replied.

“And how are we going to get down there,” Captain Rescue sighed.

The self-guided lamp was one step ahead of him as it darted towards the ground. The hero closed his eyes and yelped as it went straight through the dirt as if the ground was not there. Captain rescue opened his eyes, watched the earth around him, and slowly came to understand the definition of “magical lamp”—that it could do anything it wanted. The tiny lamp traveled through the absolute darkness of the compressed soil for some time, but that darkness soon gave way to a large chamber, perfect for hiding a doomsday explosive. A series of electric lamps illuminated the chamber and those within. At the center, six apes stood guard while a pair of suit-wearing dolphins tinkered with a device that could only be the bomb.

Captain Rescue tipped backwards, fell to the ground, and in dismay said, “There are too many of them, we’ll never stop the bomb!”

“Just let them get a taste of me,” Freight said with utmost sincerity.

If the bigfoot guards had taken the time to actually stand guard, rather than staring aimlessly at the dirt, they might have seen the small golden lamp or the reflections of it upon their foreheads. After buzzing through the air for a few seconds, the lamp found a nice and comfortable corner of the cave to set down in and plan their next course of action.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Freight said as he stood near the concave edge of the lamp, waiting for a hatch to appear.

Dr. Malevolent turned to Freight and spoke slowly, “You just want to go out there and hope for the best?”

“I won’t just be hoping. I will be achieving.”

***

The lights within the magical lamp dimmed and a white screen unfurled from mere nothingness. Everyone gathered around it, unsure of its meaning. Within a few seconds, the screen glowed brightly and a movie began to play. It began uninterestingly enough: the magical lamp as seen from the outside hiding in the corner of the cave. On screen, the hatch swung open and the heroes emerged from their tiny craft and expanded to their full size. They darted through the cave and took poor cover behind the electrical lamps—their arms, legs, and much of their torsos quite visible.

Freight stepped out from behind one of the lamps with Courtney in his hands. The shaky camera jerked to the apes, which could see the huge man clear as day. Freight dove into a roll and hopped to his feet, but before he had the chance to show the bigfoot what he was made of, they found out for themselves as a series of lasers hit the giant man and made him explode like a gerbil in a microwave, enticing a gasp and a whimper from real Freight.

“Just come out,” the bigfoots said, “we can see you behind there.”

Dr. Malevolent shoved Captain Rescue and he stumbled out from behind a lamp.

“You idiot,” she said, “I told you the lamps would make for terrible cover, but you were like ‘no, the bigfoot are narrow sighted’.”

“I thought they were,” he replied.

“Get up,” the bigfoot commanded as they fixed their laser rifles upon the heroes.

They got to their feet just as the bigfoot fired a barrage of lasers upon them. Before any exploding transpired, the movie cut to black.

***

“Is it safe to come out yet?” Captain Rescue whispered from hand-cupped face.

Dr. Malevolent patted his shoulder and spoke solemnly, “Not yet.”

He kept his face buried in his hands and wept uncontrollably. Dr. Malevolent just looked towards the others and shrugged her shoulders.

Eventually, he regained his composure and looked up once more, red faced and with swollen eyes. “Why would you show us such a terrible prophecy?!”

Greg chuckled, entertained by mortals and their mortality. “That’s just one possible future, a future that will transpire if you people run out there like idiots. It also makes what I’m about to do a little more understandable.”

Captain Rescue wiped his eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“Give you pitiful creatures a fighting chance; it did take you a dinosaur to kill the last ape.”

“It wasn’t just the one. Sure, he was big, but there were lots!”

Charlie stepped between the two. “What do mean ‘give us a fighting chance’?”

“This,” the genie said pointing at Captain Rescue.

The hero, enveloped within an orange aura, floated into the air and giggled. “This tickles!”

With an agape mouth, Dr. Malevolent stammered, “I see what’s going on here, but why him?”

Greg answered as Captain Rescue fell to his knees, “I think he’s the most interesting person to accept such a gift. And, really, he’s the only one of you with that hero mentality, but sadly, it’s muddled behind all of his idiot mentalities too.”

The newly endowed hero got to his feet. “Gift? What did you give me? I don’t feel any different. Is it a disease, one of those sexually transmitted ones?”

Greg cringed. “You are thick.”

“What do you mean?” the hero asked suspiciously.

“Let me spell this out for you: I. Gave. You. Superpowers.”

Captain Rescue just stood there trying to processes what he just heard. He patted himself up and down in search of any outward signs of superness. As he ran his hands over his body, he noticed a district influx of muscles and a distinct outflux of fat. As it turned out, the hero’s temporary super powers had chiseled into a fine specimen of masculinity. He flexed his muscles and made quite the spectacle of himself as he struggled to kiss his pecks.

“My God,” Dr. Malevolent shivered, “what have you done.”

Greg just smiled and made the hatch magically appear on the side of his stolen magical lamp. “Go punch something, you buffoon.”

Barely able to contain himself, the hero sprinted towards the hatch in a manner peculiar enough to scare young children. With his legs moving at a different speed than the upper half of his body, he reached the hatch as the middle half of his body caught up with the other parts. Captain Rescue lunged out of the magical lamp and ballooned to his normal size in the blink of an eye. One of the bigfoot guards noticed Captain Rescue and nudged the ape standing beside him to take notice. His friend glanced up, and upon seeing the hero, they both raised their rifles and snarled. The hero just stood there with his hands upon his waist, chest jutting out, and faintly glimmering from his gift.

“What did you give him?” Dr. Malevolent asked as she watched the story unfurl from the safety of the small lamp.

“I really have no idea, there aren’t labels or anything,” Greg answered, “I just did a little hocus pocus and that was the result.”

“So there’s no telling what exactly he can do?”

“Not exactly, but it won’t be anything too ridiculous.”

“Could he get hurt?”

“Maybe, depends on how stupid he is.”

She sighed.

***

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll lay down your weapons and back away from the bomb,” Captain Rescue commanded.

The two dolphins in the background tinkering with the explosive paid no attention to their antagonist as their ape guards looked at each other, figuring out what exactly to do with a belligerent superhero. They decided the only real choice, and a good one at that, was to kill him—with lasers. In unison, the guards shrugged their shoulders, pointed their rifles at him, and went to town. As Captain Rescue outstretched his arms like Moses parting the Red Sea of lasers, the energy-borne projectiles flooded around him and went into orbit like a protective shell. The apes stumbled backwards in awe of the lightshow. The lasers swirled in the air, hissing as they crossed each other.

Captain Rescue conducted the lasers like a pint-sized army of bees. The swarm swam around the hero, and then one single laser left the pack and aligned itself vertically in the air. Another laser left the fray and stacked upon the last, and then another, and then another. These lasers eventually formed an entire word, and those words formed a sentence, the most poignant sentence in existence: Dolphins are bad.

Coincidentally, the bigfoot had not bothered reading to the most poignant sentence in existence. In the time it took Captain Rescue to figure out how to spell the three words, they had killed themselves out of sheer boredom and the hero did not notice, nor could he see out of his laser swarm anyway. Rather than spending his time in school learning, Captain Rescue spent it dreaming of being a superhero, and now, that dream had come to fruition.

Captain Rescue dropped his hands, and the lasers fell with him, leaving scorch marks as they hit the ground. The displeased dolphins finally turned around to face their antagonist. After a few seconds spent staring angrily at each other, the dolphin’s giant tripod-toed feet advanced on Captain Rescue. He held up his hands in a fighting stance, warning the dolphins that he would use these weapons if he had to. The dolphins looked at him curiously, and then started to rotate their exoskeletal chassis inward to look at each other. Captain Rescue put his tired arms down as the dolphins nodded and then began their slow rotation back out.

“It’s true that dolphins are only good at swimming in straight lines and jumping through flaming hoops,” he said to them.

Finally, the dolphins picked up their heavy mechanical arms, an action that the hero initially construed as surrender, but as the metal palms opened and the red tips of a dozen miniature missiles poked through, Captain Rescue realized surrender was the last thing on their minds. The dolphins, playing it safe, fired a single missile at Captain Rescue. The projectile flew through air, spiraling and looping as it homed in on him.

Time slowed to a crawl for Captain Rescue as he watched the snail of a missile inch its way across the cave. The hero might have had no understanding of how the flow of time worked, but he knew he should use this newfound ability. Captain Rescue reached his hand forward and grabbed the projectile as it came into range. As time caught back up, he bit the missile’s tip off and tossed it like a grenade. A trail of warhead material spiraled through the air as the grenissile (the bastard offspring of a grenade and a missile) tumbled end over end and eventually hit one of the dolphins with the sound of a gong before falling to the ground without so much as a fizzle.

One of the dolphins crushed the grenissile beneath its metal foot, and then the pair lunged forward and released their entire payload at Captain Rescue. The ensuing flash of light made it impossible to tell what happened, but when the smoke settled, both of the dolphins had disappeared entirely. All that remained was the explosive device tucked underneath the arm of a very naked Captain Rescue, naked except for his mask, because that was just how these things worked. Now that Captain Rescue had removed the threat—as well as his clothes—from existence, the others left the magical lamp, ballooning to their proper size. They nodded their heads approvingly as they meandered through the wanton destruction.

Dr. Malevolent held her hand over the naked Captain Rescue. “Well, that’s sight to sore eyes.”

Greg materialized before Captain Rescue and snapped his fingers once. A brand new spandex costume now covered the hero. He felt over his body and the skintight suit that now covered it, admiring them both.

“I could get used to this,” he flexed his muscles.

“Well don’t,” the genie said, “as soon as you leave this cave you’ll lose your powers.”

‘That’s not cool. If I stayed in the cave, would I stay this way?”

“You sure would,” the genie joked.

“That’s a thought.”

Dr. Malevolent laughed. “By all means, stay down here.”

“But, I’d probably get lonely.”

“It’s the price you’d pay to be great.”

Captain Rescue thrust his chest into the air, and then bellowed heroically, “I don’t need powers to be great.” The hero then began spinning the explosive device on the tip of his finger like basketball and added, “What do we do with this thing?”

Dr. Malevolent snatched it from him. “Not spinning it like that would be a good start.”

She knelt down, set the bomb on the ground, and gave it a thorough examination. The device, a spherical Rubik’s Cube, had different sections that all rotated around a blinking green light. These sections traveled around in circles as the device completed itself systematically, and once that happened, things would get interesting—explosively interesting.

Captain Rescue knelt down beside Dr. Malevolent and stared at the device. “We should cut the red wire.”

She grabbed the device and pulled it close to her for their protection. “I don’t believe there is a red wire.”

“Open it.”

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Captain Rescue exclaimed as he quickly snatched up the device before Dr. Malevolent could react, aided by his powers. Captain Rescue held the bomb between his hands, concentrating intently, and then in the blink of an eye, his hands collapsed, and the device was gone.

“What did you do with it?” Dr. Malevolent questioned suspiciously.

“I disappeared it.”

“Yes, I gathered that, but where did it go.”

Captain Rescue shrugged. “I just grabbed it and told it to go away.”

Dr. Malevolent glared at him, and then her head darted to Greg. “I hope you know what you’re doing, you stupid genie.”

“What does it matter if he knows what he’s doing? The bomb’s gone!” Captain Rescue argued.

Dr. Malevolent smacked her forehead. “You made it vanish, that doesn’t mean it’s gone. You don’t even know what you’re doing. What if you just made it invisible and now it’s rolling around somewhere in this room ready to explode.”

Barely visible to their eyes, a small flash accompanied by a puff of grey smoke mushroomed from the ground and left a minute crater behind.

Dr. Malevolent remained silent for a moment. “Or… you could have shrunk it to the size of an atom. I guess that’s it then, we saved the world.”

Captain Rescue stomped the explosion and its crater out with his foot. “Excuse me? I saved the world, I do believe.”

Before anyone had the chance to reply, the cave disappeared and the magical lamp reappeared. “I wish you’d warn us before you do that,” Dr. Malevolent said to the genie.

“That wasn’t me,” Greg earnestly replied.

“You were pulled out of the cave due to an anomaly I detected,” the lamp’s disembodied voice said.

“What kind of anomaly?”

The lamp rescinded into the pretty nothingness of trans-dimensional space, and then reappeared in regular space, complete with stars, the moon, and the sun a ways away. Noticeably missing, however, was the Earth.

“This kind of anomaly,” the lamp clarified.

Captain Rescue tapped on the glass. “Wasn’t there a planet here a few minutes ago?”

Dr. Malevolent walked up to a porthole. “Uh… yeah.”

“Well,” Captain Rescue exclaimed, “where did it go!?”

“That’s an excellent question.”

The lamp, always in the loop, explained the situation, “According to my data, the Earth was destroyed two billion years ago.”

“How could this have happened?” Captain Rescue cried as he slammed his forehead into the porthole.

“Those dolphins clearly don’t like losing,” Dr. Malevolent said with astonishment.

“I’d say,” Captain Rescue cried out, his words drowned in tears.

Greg cleared his throat for effect more than anything. “I have an idea.”

Chapter 21: A Solution Exists for Every Problem

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Captain Rescue whispered to Dr. Malevolent, who knelt just beside him, Stubbs and Charlie over their shoulders.

“You heard the genie. This is the only way.”

“Yeah, but what if we break the universe?”

“Well, we won’t have much time to dwell on our actions if we cease to exist, so that’s a plus.”

The trio hid in an alley without Freight, who was off on his own task. The genie had given them explicit instructions, and the gang would have to act quickly for this plan to have any chance of success.

“How much longer,” Charlie whispered to the both of them.

Dr. Malevolent glanced up to him. “If this goes anything like it did with me, should be any minute now.”

“Is it weird that the chance to do this excites me?” Captain Rescue said as he glanced out the alley.

“That is very weird.”

The short conversation ended as footsteps approached. Dr. Malevolent shushed everyone as she and the others waited for whoever it was. She nodded to them as a single woman and man passed, their identities impossible to ascertain from the darkness.

“Right on time,” she said underneath her breath. “Psst, Over here!” she said loudly in an attempt to draw their attention.

The ruse was successful and the passersby entered the alleyway, and now, Dr. Malevolent, Stubbs, Charlie, and a still fit Captain Rescue stood before another version of Dr. Malevolent and Boris. The six people stared at each other, two of which had no clue what was going on.

Finally, the original Dr. Malevolent spoke, “Coincidentally, through a series of quite unfortunate events, the Earth of our universe was destroyed and we’ve come to live on yours. But first, we have to get rid of you.”

The alternate versions of Dr. Malevolent and Boris looked at each other and gulped, and then the four universal stowaways tackled and knocked their alternative selves unconscious before dragging their bodies into the alleyway. There, they could perform these unspeakable acts of evil away from prying eyes. A few minutes later, the quartet left the alleyway shaking their hands clean of the strange crime just committed.

“Greg said he’d take care of… them, right?” Charlie asked.

“Yup, let’s just get a move on before anyone else shows up,” the super villain suggested.

The gang headed down the street and away from the crime scene. All was quiet as the moon gave faint illumination, but before long, booming footsteps shattered the solitude of the midnight air. Freight, covered in blood and holding two shotguns, had come to rejoin the party. He had been on a mission to get rid of his alternate self, and then they would take care of Captain Rescue together.

“Honestly,” Dr. Malevolent began as Freight came to a halt, “what on earth did you do to yourself?”

As the gallons of blood continued to drip, the mountain of man just shrugged as if he did not quite understand the question. He had just done what needed to be done in the most enjoyable way possible—with a wood chipper. Since outlining the psychological implications of butchering an alternate version of yourself seemed like, at most, a fool’s errand, Dr. Malevolent just pointed at his pair of shotguns.

“I see you found yourself another Courtney.”

Freight held both shotguns up, beaming like a little kid. “Yes, I am going to be a happy man, a very very very very happy man.” A new era had begun for him, an era of pairs.

“I suppose it’s not polygamy if they’re the same person.”

Charlie leaned in close and whispered, “It’s not polygamy because they’re both inanimate objects.”

“I can appreciate a person’s love for the inanimate,” she scolded the bunny. She turned to Captain Rescue and said coldly, “Your turn.”

“Huh?” he asked without a clue.

“What was the plan?”

He scratched his head. “Uh, to… kill ourselves?”

“I guess that’s a rather novel way of looking at it. The point being, who’s left?”

Captain Rescue counted the others and then did some math with his fingers, muttering under his breath the entire time. Eventually, he figured it out. “Me!”

“Okay, now if you were you, which you are, where would you be right now.”

“I’m already here, that’s where I’d be if I was me.”

Dr. Malevolent began to explain herself further, but something interrupted her—a small compact vehicle screeching around the corner. Apparently, Captain Rescue was here, both of them. The Rescue Machine screeched to a halt next to the time-displaced heroes. Through the window, an alternate Captain Rescue climbed over the passenger seat and subsequently fumbled for the passenger side door. It burst open and he tumbled out before jumping to his feet.

“There were reports of a distur—wait a sec, what is this?!” the alternate hero said as he noticed who stood before him. “Witchcraft! Imposters! All of you!” He glanced at the blood-battered Freight, who he hadn’t met yet in this reality. “And what the hell are you?!”

Freight glanced around awkwardly. “They call me Freight.”

“What’s going on!?” the alternate Captain Rescue whined as he stomped his foot.

“I don’t really know!” the original one replied.

“Why are you here? And why are you so darned sexy?”

“Oh, thank you! I’ve been working out!”

Freight had just about enough of this, and he lifted his pair of shotguns into the air. The other version of Captain Rescue stumbled backwards and became suddenly aware of his fate.

“You won’t get me that easily!” he yelled.

The second Captain Rescue dove into his utility belt, withdrew a small grey spherical object, and threw it to the ground, immediately enveloping himself in smoke. A few seconds went by and there was a distinctive thonk as the duplicate slammed headfirst into his vehicle. The smoke cleared, and sure enough, there lay Captain Rescue, face down and unconscious.

“Well, that makes our job rather easy,” Dr. Malevolent said as she poked the duplicate with her foot.

“You do it!” Captain Rescue cried, “I can’t!”

“With pleasure,” Dr. Malevolent said as she pulled out a hacksaw.

***

A few highly disturbing minutes later and the universal stowaways stood within the magical lamp once more with Greg hovering before them.

“So,” Dr. Malevolent said to him, “you’re sure you can put our bodies where no one will ever find them?”

“Considering they will no longer exist, I’m going to say yes.”

“Excellent. So that’s it then, we just go on like normal?”

Greg nodded. “There may be some small inconsistencies, but I’m sure most of you can cope.” He turned to Captain Rescue and repeated himself, “…most of you.”

His eyes glanced around nervously, and then he questioned the genie, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“What about you?” Dr. Malevolent asked Greg.

“Oh, we genie travel across universes all the time, if I ever run into the other version of me, he’ll understand.”

“Interesting…”

Greg shrugged. “How else do you think I came up with idea?’

“I dunno, I just figured you wanted us to die in some way, shape, or form.”

“Well, there was obviously that. Now, you kids go off and play, I’ve got work to do.”

“So that’s it then, we just go back to normal life?”

“Yup,” Greg joked, “go ahead and get back to unsuccessfully taking over the world.”

Dr. Malevolent nodded. “I don’t mind if I do. In fact, I’m already scheming.” She leaned for Charlie and Freight, whispering something between their ears.

“Oh, that’s a really good idea,” Charlie agreed.

“Tell me!” Captain Rescue whined.

“We’re not going to tell you, you’ll find out soon enough anyway, after I take over the world!”

“You guys are mean.”

“Shut up.”

Greg sighed and then his houseguests abruptly disappeared, placed wherever they needed to be. The genie looked around his lamp and greeted solitude cheerfully once more. He floated to his control console to decide which part of the universe to explore next. For now, he would enjoy this silence, but this was not the last time he would see those incorporeal ingrates, he was on the run after all, and there was no better way to fight the tyranny of genie society than with half-retarded humans.

fin.

Until next time, that is.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Why Must There Always Be Skinny Dipping?

Chapter 2: Naked People Make for the Best Torture

Chapter 3: Search and Rescue; Run or Die

Chapter 4: Putting the Special in Special Forces

Chapter 5: A Journey Back Wrought with the Most Unspeakable of Evils

Chapter 6: Possum Perspective

Chapter 7: The Final Hours of the Condemned

Chapter 8: A Detour to End All Detours

Chapter 9: Ice Cream and Lingerie

Chapter 10: People in the Future Sure Are Crazy

Chapter 11: Apes Must Not Look Up

Chapter 12: The “Allegately” Haunted Maintenance Tunnels

Chapter 13: They’re Like the Other Food Group

Chapter 14: Two Hours Later

Chapter 15: Another Day, Another Cell

Chapter 16: Break Out, Break In, Break Free, Break Dance

Chapter 17: Don’t Send a Monkey to do an Ape’s Job

Chapter 18: Some Things Do Go According to Plan

Chapter 19: Back From the Future

Chapter 20: Last Detour, Promise

Chapter 21: A Solution Exists for Every Problem