"Why would Batman fight Superman?" Tweety looked to a hesitating Sly for a quick direct answer, but was instead met with a face full of frustration.

Ralph, sensing a lengthy dissertation coming on, put his face in his palm. "Oh, boy..."

"It's...complicated...you see when you..."

"Are you STILL defending Batman on this one? The REAL question is how would Super Fun Guy have dealt with the squabbling? That's what I'm interested in hearing." Toby knew exactly what would add fuel to this fire and keep Sylvester and Tweety in a hypothetical holding pattern. He got an immediate response from Tweety.

"Oh, Toby! That IS a good question!!"

"No it is NOT..." Sylvester glaring at Toby let him know he found no humor in the instigator-like tactic. It was going to be another long night. Ralph tucked a folded piece of paper into his bookbag and left the room. "Thanks for that." Sly was sarcastic as he rolled his eyes at Toby.

"You're most welcome. 'Happy' to help--and, speaking of--Has anyone seen my 'bitter half?' She's still miffed that I MAY have accidentally ruined one of her soldering irons working on a pet project of mine."

Cabe responded by lowering his newspaper. "Happy texted me that she won't be home for a few hours...had to...'clear her head.' "

"Oh, boy..." Toby checked the refrigerator for leftovers.

"She's been...clearing her head A LOT lately." Cabe was inquisitive. "It's..."

"NOT GOOD." Toby chuckled and smirked as he was suddenly aware he too was using Happy's catchphrase more and more since dispatching the bicker clicker. Shutting the refrigerator door, Toby sat down on a stool.

Sylvester's phone began vibrating and a loud irritating ringtone disturbed the weary team.

"Oh, thank God." Sly was relieved that the hypothetical discussion was being interrupted, but then, as he realized what his phone was alerting him of, his face muscles went from loose to tightened. "uh, guys..WE HAVE A SITUATION!!"

"What kind of situation, Sylvester?" Tweety could not understand what would make Sylvester so upset so quickly.

Sylvester attempted to calm down so he could explain his reaction. "Three years ago I created a software macro that would immediately alert me if...a certain bit of information were to ever...be true..."

"Why are you so nervous, Big Guy? Your heart-rate and pulse...you're sweating like Batman in a room full of Jokers."

"With good reason."

"What was the alert set-up for? Celebrity break-ups? Terrorism? World War 3?" Tweety was on the edge of her seat.

"Worse." Sylvester began to fidget. "And Walter must NOT find out."

Toby was intrigued. "Ooh...juicy!"

Paige sauntered in. Her floral sundress followed behind her as she tried to assess the situation. "Walter can't find out about what? What could possibly be so horrible?"

Walter's manic jackhammering footsteps echoed down the stairs as he clutched at a printed article and looked around at the circle of friends around him. "200??? 200?? Really? And Ireland of all places--Sly, you of all people know the statistical probabilities are astronomical..."

"Would someone PLEASE tell me what's going on?!" Paige demanded clarification.

Sly quietly spoke. "A woman.. has been found.. with an IQ of 200..." Sly, trying to put a positive spin on things became diplomatic. "...Which now, by an admittedly small margin, lowers Walter from being the 4th smartest person on record to..."

"Sly??" Walter hung his head.

"...To 5th." Sly finished by defensively covering his head with his arms.

"What do we know about this woman? Perhaps the IQ test is somehow...flawed and is therefore illegitimate and..and..you know? Doesn't count?" Walter began to stutter and show signs of psychological break-down. Toby crept away and opened his color-coded WaltCon side-panel to update the emergency status.

With a horrified look on his face, he raised his voice. "Okay, people--remain calm...we are approaching WaltCon 2. Oh man, where's Happy when you need her? Paige! Paige! See if you can talk him down."

Paige looked bewildered and thought everyone was severely overreacting at the news of this person with an IQ of 200. She spoke calmly like a hostage negotiator. "Walter...Walter...it's me...Paige."

"Paige?" Suddenly a feverish Walter was very insecure and his ego, bruised, sent him back to a mental state when he was bullied at school.

"Now...I want you to know that you are..uh..you are kind, and smart, and...well, come on...197..that's nothing to sneeze at...I mean...Einstein's was 160...isn't that what you're always saying?"

"She's dying up there." Toby tried to text Happy.

Ignoring Paige's voice, Walter became defensive and asked Sly to put the information about this woman up on the giant screen in the middle of the garage. "Again, I ask, what do we know about her?"

It was now Paige's turn to begin to stutter and panic. For upon the screen eerily stared back at her a slinky red-haired vixen she had hallucinations about when she realized her worst fear at the seedling depository. Her worst fear was that Walter would love someone smarter than she was and abandon any hope for an eventual wedding between she and him. She rubbed at her eyes, assuming that she couldn't possibly be seeing correctly.

"Name: Alma 'The Almanac' Murphy; Age 25; recently tested at the Edinburgh Intelligence Conference an IQ of 200...and...an EQ of 150?!"

"She has a nickname?" Toby removed his hat. "Some almanacs are hundreds of pages thick-- very intimidating!"

Paige hugged Walter. Mostly to comfort him, but partly to comfort herself. "Listen to me, Walter...whoever this woman is...no matter what she may or may not be able to do or say...you'll still be the smartest genius I'd ever want to be around...okay? It's going to be okay." Surely this was her being irrational. But it felt scary for some mystical reason.

Walter released himself from the hug and slowly marched up the stairs.

Toby spoke quietly to Paige concerning Walter's fragile state. "You have to understand...Walter's IQ number is everything to him...it's his identity and gives his life a higher purpose and allows him to build up confidence behind it. And for many years saying '197' was enough for him--like Cabe's badge--it would get him into places. Now this Alma 'The Almanac' threatens to make him less special...at least in HIS mind."

"He's still special to me..." Paige didn't want to let the others know about her own superstitions and feelings of déja vu concerning Miss Murphy. And this could be the perfect opportunity to both help Walter emotionally and confront her own feelings of inadequacy. She ran up the stairs after him.

"Walter! Walter, wait!" Walter curled up on the familiar couch and Paige draped a blanket over his shoulders.

"Paige...do you...think less of me?" The question seemed ridiculous to Paige, but she paused and tried to empathize from Walter's 197 perspective.

"Less?? Of YOU? Sweetie, you're a literal genius and you have saved our lives more times than I can count. You are quick on your feet, always coming up with brilliant ways to help the Team survive and thrive...Tweety loves you, Ralph adores you...in his..own special way of course...You have amazing friends all around you and you're worried because a 25 year old woman from Ireland's IQ is 3 measly points higher? If anyone should feel less than...it's not YOU...it's..me." Paige was now visibly vulnerable.

"I don't understand. Why on earth would YOU be feeling something negative about this irritating discovery? You're still you..."

"Promise you won't laugh?" Paige paused.

"What?" Walter began to regain his composure. "Of course."

"Now, remember, you promised." Paige shyly removed her clunky shoes and sat down beside him. "Remember that seed bank where we started hallucinating about our worst fears?"

"As I recall, you indicated that you yourself were not affected by the hallucinogenic properties, while everyone else had been."

"Well...that's not exactly true. My greatest fear is that you will fall in love with someone way smarter than me...someone like Alma 'The Almanac'...and then...there can..never be...any possibility for an 'us.' Am I pathetic? Shouldn't my greatest fear be something else?"

Wanting to comfort her somehow, Walter lifted her head up with his finger under her chin. "You have nothing to fear...trust me...why would I ever want a bloated tattered and torn 'almanac' or even 100 'almanacs'--You can READ it all over my face--what I need, and everything I will ever need is contained quite succinctly in this one flawless 'Paige.'