The Sewer King versus Hillwood
Down in a large, cavernous, circular spillway in the sewers beneath Hillwood's streets, a pure black rat crept. It sniffed the air, once, twice, thrice, and then scampered forwards. Its clawed feet scraped along the concrete at a nimble pace. Soon, the creature clambered on top of old telephone books. From there, it leapt upwards onto a chessboard situated in the middle of the throne room of the Sewer King. The owner of the table sat, slumped and dejected, one hand supporting the side of his head and elbow of the same arm planted firmly on the chess table. The Sewer King dangled his other hand down past the table's side, his fingers as listless as he was. Yet when the scampering black rat ran forwards, the Sewer King roused himself momentarily from his inertia. He lifted his fingers for a brief moment to tickle the rat's head.
"Not today, Fungin," he murmured. "Maybe later."
Time had been a fair friend to the Sewer King. He now wore Arnold's Grandpa's watch around his neck. It was his precious "royal icon". But looking at the hour constantly had reminded him of the passage of time itself. The Sewer King had sought diversions to fill the hours with. But the Sewer King had soon found that writing literature for the rats of his kingdom had not been a good use of this newly acknowledged "time". The only interest the rats showed towards his high-minded knowledge was to nibble on the pages he had written. Abandoning these carefully drafted treatise, the Sewer King moved onto inspecting his kingdom. Ceremoniously, he invented new proclamations. When the king of the sewers had exhausted all the possibilities he might think of there as well, he recalled the old beat-up tin lunch box that was his "treasury". The lunchbox had room to spare, so the Sewer King dedicated himself to searching "his" sewers. Soon the Sewer King had a whole box full of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters which kids had dropped out of their pockets by accident into storm drains. But he bought nothing. Other than sneaking up into warehouse basements to dine, the Sewer King never left his sewers to interact with the world outside, so he had nothing to do with the coins other than to stare intensely at it for hours. It finally occurred to the Sewer King that he was bored. And so, sulking, he leant against his chess table to think on what to do about it.
"Hm," the Sewer King mused out loud to his rats. His gray skin still stunk like sewer water. His clothing of choice were still overalls and boots. His scepter was still a plunger and his hair was as greasy and dreadlocked into slimy cords as ever. But he had come up with a plan.
"Rats!" the Sewer King declared suddenly with fervor. His eyes glittered with hopeful mania. "I have an important proclamation, perhaps the most important proclamation to make ever in the history of this kingdom!" The man's appearance was disheveled, but his speech was as smooth and elegant as any actor in a black and white King Arthur film. The Sewer King placed a hefty hand across his heart in his chest. "I have decided that it is time, for I, the Sewer King, to use the Relic of All-Seeing!"
This might have made a disturbance among the rat populace. But it was unclear whether or not the excitement among the Sewer King's rat council was caused by this this piece of information, or the crust of bread two rats were squabbling over. There were some squeaks of protest at this unpredicted news.
No one could be certain what the rats were thinking as they watched the Sewer King with beady eyes. But they refrained from speech, which was simple since they could not speak anyway. They went back to squabbling over bread instead.
The Sewer King found a periscope in its secret hiding spot and carried it to one of the open storm drains of Hillwood. It was difficult to endure the harsh scalding glare of daylight, but the Sewer King used the strange device, very much like a telescope but bending at sharp angles in two places, to spy on the street from a place below. The Sewer King spied many boring and eccentric people in Hillwood, but no one met his interest even remotely. He was not impressed, either for good or bad, by the Jolly Olley man having driven into a fire hydrant again. He was not fascinated by Grandma "Pookie" Gertie riding a dairy cow in her karate costume yet still somehow meditating in lotus position. A large goat followed the cow, followed lastly by a small sheep. How the animals and Gertie ended up traveling together anyone's question, as was the place they were going. It was impossible to know. But the caravan of animals held no interest for the Sewer King.
The Sewer King continued his spying. But as he stared through the periscope, the Sewer King chanced to spy something that did interest him. It was someone he remembered. His enemy, Arnold, whom he knew as "that rebellious rat groomer".
"Gah!" The Sewer King gasped in surprise. "That rebellious serf! He who deigned himself too good to be my royal rat groomer! Ah, but how he struts about the poisonous daylight! Such a cheeky taunt, isn't that right, my lovelies?" the Sewer King said pausing to stroke one of his rat's backs. Arnold never noticed the periscope popping up from sewer grated behind him. The Sewer King placed one of his dark-circled eyes back against the periscope and gasped again. "But what is this? The cheeky one courts a maid, no a princess of comely and modest grace!" The Sewer King saw Arnold approach a girl- Helga- with something in hand and present it to her. From a distance, it looked like courtship to him. But above ground, the conversation was different than the rat-king anticipated. It really went like this.
"All right, Helga," said Arnold with a deep sigh as he stood near the first plate where Helga was restlessly tossing a baseball up into the air and catching it again to warm up for practice. "You win the bet. Here's five bucks."
"You bet I'm right, bucko!" Helga snapped with pleasure as she snatched up the five bucks. Counting out five crinkly bills, she stuffed them in her pocket. Stood bull-dog legged, she watched as Arnold walked away, then snuck one of the dollars out of her pocket again. She kissed it and began drawing on it with a thick felt pen so that picture of George Washington became a football-headed stick-figure instead.
"Ah, the idol of my youth! The currency of my very soul!" spout Helga admiring her goofy stick figure portrait of Arnold with a love-sick expression on her face.
"Ah-ha! Rat minions!" The Sewer King cried toppling down from his crate to land slightly unbalanced on one foot. He lifted a hand high over his head and wrapped his cape around to half-veil his face. "We shall have our revenge on our royal rat groomer! Rats! I have a plan! We shall kidnap the spiky-haired one's beloved and challenge him to a duel! This time, he shall be vanquished at chess and humiliated! As I was." The Sewer King held up the palm of his hand and one of is minions leap up onto it to ride for a while. Slowly, the Sewer King plodded along down the sewer system. He soon found himself near a different drain and peered up through the hole.
Helga G. Pataki trotted by the hole. The Sewer King made a snatch for her ankles but soon she was out of reach. She met up with a friend-Phoebe next to a bus stop and climbed on board the transport, chatting. The Sewer King made a face of disgust.
"Playing a game of hide and squeak, huh? Well, I have an alternate strategy, my lovelies. We wait for the cover of darkness!" the Sewer King said menacing to his rats. They squeaked their assent.
Several streets away, Helga settled herself down into a corner of Phoebe's room. She had a sleeping bag and a giant, heart-shaped pillow to sprawl out on. Spread out in front of her were several comic books. Helga kicked her leg out in the air behind her in an expression of happiness, much in the same way a dog might wave its tail.
"I can't decide which one to read first," Helga exclaimed, almost cackling in delight. "Marshmallowed Marvel versus Sponge Avenger, Captain Quills, or Maniac's Quest. Hm," ended Helga, calming down to study the difficult choice before her. With logic as stern as that used to solve a mathematical problem, Helga shuffled her thumb against the edge of one of the comic pages. Flicking through the pages rapidly, Helga gauged the thicknesses of each. At length, she flipped open the shortest comic book and began to read.
"Helga," Phoebe reprimanded in her small, but firm voice. "Don't forget you promised. We're going to have a Nathan Suberbilis movie marathon!" Phoebe held up a blue movie box with a suave, attractive-looking man on it. Helga rolled her eyes at the jaunty pose and cool looking car in the background, as well as the gaggle of female characters admiring the movie's lead.
"Fan adulation again, Phoebe? I'd rather watch a good 'ol monster eats Hillwood movie, myself." With a wicked grin, Helga flicked on a flashlight. The light rested on Phoebe's face. Indignant, the girl waved the light away that shone directly in her eyes.
"Helga, put that out!" Phoebe protested. Indulgent to her friend, Helga did as she asked, She turned off the flashlight and shoved it back under her pillow again.
"Well, alright, but there had better be popcorn!" Helga asserted.
"Yes, LOTS of popcorn," Phoebe said. "Mother and Father have already set up the television downstairs."
"Uh-huh," Helga agreed as the two girls left Phoebe's room, each with one pillow under their arm. "Wait, turn back!" Helga demanded. "I need to change into my jammies, first. Also…" The girl paused to scratch the top of her head. "I kinda want 'ta shower first. Plus you've got that really COOL bathtub. Can I?"
"Go ahead," Phoebe prompted with a soft and comprehending smile.
"Wahoo!" Helga shouted in glee. She chucked her pillow at Phoebe, who caught it.
"I'm going for a soak! Go make some popcorn, will ya? Lots and lots of it!"
"Alright," Phoebe nodded in a mild-mannered way.
Helga disappeared towards the bathroom. Phoebe made her way towards her family's kitchen instead. It was a grand house, and spacious. Her mother's kitchen had all the sleek and glossy cupboards one might find in the showroom at a hardware store. Phoebe found a three-tiered stepping stool and shoved it up against the side of one of the kitchen counters. Then she walked up it to balance on the top step. With the tall step-stool, Phoebe was able to reach what she wanted to- barely.
Hopping down from the stool, Phoebe carried a container full of instant hot chocolate over towards two empty mugs. Smiling, she microwaved some water next. But as Phoebe carried two steaming hot mugs on platter across the kitchen, there was a tiny rustle of movement behind the window curtains. There was a rat peeking in through the glass window. A second and even third rat glanced in for a moment before all three of the hideous creatures slunk away. Shaking off the sensation of being watched, Phoebe set her platter down onto the counter beside the hot chocolate. But the stirring of motion had set her ill at ease. She walked down the hallway to check on her best friend.
"Helga?" Phoebe yelled through the door while knocking politely. "I've made some hot chocolate!" Helga paused what she was doing immediately.
"Um, that sounds great!" a voice on the other side of the door shouted back.
"Is everything alright in there?" Helga remained frozen.
"Yeah. I'm just fine!" Helga shouted back from beneath the soapy bubbles. The entire bathtub was foamy white. Several empty bottles of bubble bath lay on the floor. She listened cautiously for Phoebe to walk away.
"Alright!" shouted Phoebe with relief. She walked away down the hallway and Helga listened for the silence of her shoes disappearing into the distance. Then she lifted up her heart-shaped locket to her nose.
"Ah, now where were we, my darling?!" Helga sang to her locket rubbing her nose against it. "Snuggly, wuggly, my sweet amber….my ambrosia of the gods! What was that?" Helga asked, pretending to listen to her locket. "Oh my, but we shouldn't. Teeheehee!" Helga said batting her eyelashes at the locket as she pulled it away for a moment. Then she went back to snuggling it again.
Elsewhere, the more sane occupant of the house, Phoebe Heyerdahl, set down the hot chocolate mugs in the living room. She returned to the kitchen to fetch a heaping bowl of bowl of popcorn. She found the television remote and set her movie on pause. Finally, Helga stomped into the room with damp hair, pink jammies, and a scowl to suggest she was having a terrible time. But Phoebe knew Helga well enough to know otherwise.
"Alright!" Helga demanded as she plunked herself onto the sofa. "Let's get this over with! But don't blame me if I fall asleep!" Helga complained to Phoebe. She tapped her fingers against the arm of the couch and glared at the television screen. An action movie came on. The movie's star did a bunch of flips and twists in his blue hero suit and Phoebe nearly bounced on the sofa out of excitement as she watched. But Helga yawned. Soon, she nodded off.
The TV blared. Face flushed with happiness, Phoebe looked away from the movie for the first time to see Helga asleep on the couch. Her Arnold locket had fallen out of her clutched hand as she slept so Phoebe picked it up and returned to its place around Helga's neck. Phoebe stared down at her sleeping friend, fondly.
Helga was deep asleep. So Phoebe draped a blanket throw over Helga and turned out the light. Creeping, she made her way towards her room alone. Helga would be safe, she thought. But tonight was not like any other night. Some rats were scurrying around the house. They sought a way in. One rat stopped beside the postbox on the door. A second rat climbed onto the shoulders of the first, then a third rat climbed both of the other rats to obtain a high perch. From this perch, it leapt forwards. Yet the third rat was so fat that it got snuck inside the narrow mailslot. As it squeaked in protest, that rat failed to notice that Phoebe had come back from her room with a kendo stick. Phoebe swung. She bashed the rat with her kendo stick. It flew backwards out of the mailslot to collide with its fellow rats. Then Phoebe nailed her mailslot shut. Awakening, Helga yawned. Tottering over to where Phoebe was working carpentry, Helga covered her open mouth with her hand.
"What are you doing, Phoebes?" Helga questioned firmly. Phoebe looked down at the carpentry hammer in her hand. Maybe it was better if she didn't mention her house had rats?
"Oh, nothing!" Phoebe lied quickly before they went upstairs to her room to finish their sleepover.
Two of the rats lay stunned on the street. But one of the three abandoned its fellows to scramble rapidly back towards an open sewer grate. It hopped through the crack into the sewer and fell nimbly onto the pale hand of the Sewer King. He stroked the back of the returning rat, fondly.
"There, there, my lovely. I have another plan to capture the Princess and force that rebellious serf into a crushing rematch. It is only a matter of time now! I have even made the invitations!" said the Sewer King returning to a portion of the sewer where he had added furniture for his comfort. "See, I had them over there," said the Sewer King looking down at a table. His eyes widened and he slapped the side of his head.
"Where did they go? I had them just here," the Sewer King flustered at the sight of the empty desktop.
"Eek-squeak!" a rat declared. Stood up on all four paws, it seemed more anthropomorphic than usual.
"What? You've already delivered them?!" the rat king exclaimed. He rubbed his chin. "Well, maybe that is a good thing. Perhaps they will rise to my ROYAL challenge," the Sewer King said, gesturing proudly to himself.
"Eep," his rat minion politely agreed.
Elsewhere in the city, Arnold bent to pick up a battered envelope perched on his stoop. Cautiously, he opened the unsealed envelope and pulled out a smudged piece of paper.
"What is it, Arnold?" Gerald squeaked with concern.
"Looks like a pizza flyer," remarked Arnold.
"There's something written on the back," Gerald observed.
"Play chess. Hm, must be somebody's to-do list," Arnold decided. He crumbled up the paper and lobbed it away.
"Well," said the Sewer King in the sewers, far away from Arnold and Gerald and still oblivious to that his challenge had gone completely unrecognized, "I suppose expecting those rebellious rat-groomer to come here without the proper bait is too gouda to be true! Hm," the sewer King said scratching his chin again as he stood slouched in his soggy yellow rainboots. "Why, yes! Yes, of course! What a gouda idea my lovelies!" the Sewer King began to grin. "We shall use the tactics of the light-dwellers against them!" The Sewer King slapped his hands together and grinned.
After Saturday night sleepovers comes Sunday morning baseball. Soon, Helga and Phoebe ambled their way towards Gerald's Field. Both carried with them all the sports equipment they would need for the day. But Helga's focus on the day to come was interrupted by a small squeak. There was a rustle behind a trashcan. But Helga knew there were always some pests around, so she continued to walk forward. As she paced meaningfully down the sidewalk, different rats popped out of random places on the street. As more of these critters made the mistake of squeaking, too, Helga turned wide eyes towards an alley where she had heard the latest noise. Phoebe also paused to consider the constant squeaking. Helga flicked her finger against her chin in a thinking gesture.
"Hm. Phoebe? Seems like the vermin are heavy this year. Remind me to stop and buy some traps on my way home."
"Remembering!" Phoebe snapped with cheer.
At Gerald's field, Helga let down the bundle hefted on her shoulder to gear up. Arnold, Gerald, and most of the boys of their class were there. Everyone seemed to be looking at Rhonda Lloyd. She was speaking.
"I'm TELLING YOU!" Rhonda said in her own, highly feminine, yet assertive nature. "This box just appeared out of nowhere. I was here, MINDING my own business when it just… SUDDENLY moved! Like it had hundreds of tiny feet or something."
"Wow, a BOX," said Harold, dumbfounded like it was something spectacular. "What's in it?"
"Uk! Like I'm DUMB enough to look?!" came Rhonda's retort. With one hand on her hip, she twisted and angled Harold a disgusted look. "It IS a moving box."
"Must be all the little hamster wheels," Gerald pointed out. As he did so, several rats which lingered streaked away in fright as they were noticed.
"Rats?!" Rhonda squealed in disgust. "Ugh! Keep them away from my clothes!"
"RATS?!" Helga panicked. Her eyes pivoting wildly, she tensed beside her unmoved friend, Phoebe. Phoebe was much braver around rodents than she was.
"Hm. It must be a trap," observed Sid with much certainty.
"Why do you think that? Genius," Harold slurred out in an insulting manner, slow and drawn out. Sid shrugged off Harold's slight. He pointed.
"It says it there on the box!" Sid declared, proud of his observation. "See?" The kids crowded around. There, painted on the side of the box with fresh paint was the word, "trap", just as Sid had claimed.
"Lame," Rhonda observed, her hand sweeping downwards in a dismissive motion. "Who would fall for that?"
"I don't know, but I figure we ken' watch it and find out," Stinky Peterson mumbled.
"Yeah! It'll be like a real stakeout!" Sid agreed full-heartedly. Helga and Phoebe watched dumbfounded as the three most academically challenged boys of their grade went off to carry back more empty food crates. These, these they set up like a barricade to hide behind.
"Hmph. As if THAT will work?!" Rhonda declared to the stil silent, blinking Helga. Rats were displeasant news to her.
"I dunno," Gerald said, beginning a counter arguement. "It's not as if we're dealing with a criminal mastermind here."
"True," Phoebe agreed before most of the kids of Hillwood hunkered down behind the barrage of crates. The sun rose higher and higher.
"Augh!" Harold screamed out out eventually as he jumped out from behind the crate. "I can't take all this waiting!"
"Me neither," spoke up Sid as he stood, his green backwards facing hat on as usual. "Let's go over the crate and look for more clues."
"Or just forget about the whole thing," Helga complained, arms crossed. She still felt a bit unnerved and grumpy.
"Hey?!" Sid complained suddenly, bending his knees slightly as if to run suddenly. Sid pointed. "The trap is sprung! When did that happen? We were watching it the whole time!"
"Um, actually no," corrected Helga. "You all were taking a donut break for two of the hours. Phoebe was doing sodoku puzzles. And I was catching up on my Spumoni catalog reading. Where's Arnold by the way? He might have some brainiac ideas about all this."
"Dentist appointment," Gerald explained mildly.
Elsewhere across town, Arnold was shaking hands politely with a dentist.
"So good to meet you!" the man in the coat and gloves crooned. "New patient, right?"
"Yeah. My name's Arnold," the hapless boy explained. At hearing his name, the dentist and his female hygeniest began to chuckle and grin. "What' so funny?" Arnold asked, a little alarmed by all the sudden, surpressed laughter.
"Nothing. Nothing at all!" the dentist consoled him as Arnold continued to look perplexed. Elsewhere across town, the children of Hillwood were trying to figure out what to do with a certain mysterious box.
"Don't just stand there, you nimrods," Helga ordered, having become testy. "Throw something at it!" Harold picked up a pebble. He threw it at the box. By some miracle, the peeble veered far left. Its route redirected, its richoette ultimately wound up piercing the tire of a passing bicylist. That bicyclist, being Eugene, crashed into the box to open it. The reason the trap had snapped shut became evident.
"Oh, hi!" said Eugene rubbing the back of his unbroken neck. "What are you doing, Brainy?"
"Um. Nothing!" Brainy answered. Slumped upsidedown, he snacked on a handful of nogut candies that had cascaded out of the broken crate along with him. Irate and narrow-eyed, Helga snatched the candies from Brainy's hand to scatter them on the grass.
"Hey, hey, hey! Kids shouldn't take candy from strangers."
"Helga's right," Gerald said. "We'all gotta be vigilant!"
"Well, it's getting late," said Helga shading her face to look at the noonday sun high overhead. "Phoebe, how about you and me go get a cheeseburger?"
"Alright!" Phoebe chirped out. The kids began to disperse. As Phoebe and Helga strolled toward the promise of hamburgers, two rats hopped out of a trash barrel and began to tag along the two. But Stinky, Sid and Harold also walked some feet behind them.
"You don't suppose those rats yonder are followin' after the ladyfolk do ya?" asked Stinky Peterson, with his customary goth spiked cuff bracelets.
"Yup," Sid observed.
The rats pursued the girls around a tight corner into an alley. But they did not catch up. Instead, Stinky and Harold Berman had taken a shortcut to climb high up on top of stacks of crates with a heavy sewer lid raised inbetween. When the rats attempted to barrel past, the two boys dropped the sewer lid with an unceremonious thud. They shared a wicked but satisfied smile between them.
Down in the sewers, the Sewer King looked through periscope to see that his trap had failed. No one was trapped in there now.
"Drat!" the Sewer King spat, stomping his rain-booted feet. "Thus far, they have elluded my carefully devised strategy! Rats! It is time or the flute of reckoning!" With a shifty smirk, the rat king withdrew a small plastic recorder from his shirtfront. Then, with stumbling notes, the Sewer King began to play the cheap flute. Rats swarmed themselves into an army in front of him.
"Hm? What's that?" Harold asked mildly. For a time, Harold listened carefully to the dim sound of a flute. His eyes got all spiral-eyed and he began to march like a zombie.
"Harold? Getta hold of yerself!" Stinky said catching the boy by one shoulder. Sid held the other. At their rebuke, the boy shook his chubby cheeks. Awareness came back to Harold. He rubbed his head like it hurt.
"Whatcha all doing, getta yerself transfixed by a danged flute?" Stinky continued to admonish Harold.
"Na, ah!" said the boy with instant embarassment. "Who'd be dumb enough to do that?!" Only the rats of the Sewer King's army apparently, for they continued to gather around their master.
On the sunlit streets of Hillwood, Helga and Phoebe continued their humble quest for good, greasy food. Strolling confidently, Helga and Phoebe rounded the street corner to run into none other than Lila Sawyer. "Oh, hello!" Lila sang out in a forced, joyful mood as usual. "How are you, girls? I was just returning a few books to the library? Care to join me?"
"Hey, Lila. How's tricks," Helga asked casually, one hand on her hip. "We were off to get a cheeseburger, actually. Hungry?"
"I'm ever so sure I would like that ever so much!" Lila agreed, amiacably. "Only I'd really prefer a fish burger instead. Or a light salad and croutons. Is that okay?"
"Sure, sure," Helga muttered before her eyes grew wide. The squeaks of rats were growing loud again! Helga lifted her fingernail to lips. She bit down on them, hard, as fifteen rats came into view.
"Oh my!" said Lila handing Helga her books. "Don't worry. I've got this!" Lila flung herself at the oncoming invasion. She moved swifty and surely, spinning and turning, weaving and bending nimbly so that she might…. rub all of the attacking rats under their chins. One by one, all of the rats dropped to the ground in a euphoric state.
"I have a way with animals," Lila explained mildly.
"Wow, Lila. That was…. actually pretty cool," commented Helga. "But wash your hands, alright?" Helga stuck her tongue out to make a face. "Blah!"
"Okay," Lila agreed. Undeterminable in her own way, Lila accompanied Helga and Phoebe to Arnold's street. As they trotted on, they came to Green's Meats, the local butcher shop.
"Hi, girls," Mr. Green greeted them proudly. "Doing some shopping for your mothers?"
"Um, no," said Helga, her eyebrow flexing.
"What Helga means to say is that we were just passing through the retail shop's sidewalk space," Phoebe explained as a way to make ammends for Helga's terseness.
"Hm. So anything good happen today?" Mr. Green asked kindly.
"Uh-um… No really, Mr. Green." Lila explained with religious-like attention to her manners. "We're actually kind of having a problem with rats today."
"Rats?!" Mr. Green yelped suddenly with as much hatred for them as Helga had.
"Yeah! Rats! Big horrible, nasty, mean, beady-eyed ones with razor-teeth and liquid drool!" Helga exaggerated slightly, her fingers gesturing to represent a giant maw of fanged teeth. She wiggled her fingers in a chomping motion.
"Hm, rats!?" Mr. Green repeated. The three girls walked on in search of those burgers. Stood still on his sidewalk, Mr. Green thought. But in the next few minutes, Mr. Green strode powerfully toward a fire hydrant on the street. He opened it with a wrench. Mrs. Vitello meanwhile, was helping him by opening up a hose placed next to the sewer drains right beside her shop. The effect of this sudden flood of water was cause a rumbling tsunami of water to rush toward the sewer drain.
"What is that?" The Sewer King inquired out loud to the remainder of his rat army. "Oh my," he lobbed to the empty air as he was swept the same way his army of rats.
Phoebe, Helga, and Lila utlimately arrived at the resteraunt of choice. Blandly, they stood at the counter to order. As they chomped into fresh, hot rolls and savory meat on crackly, crispy, lettuce and juicy, ripe, red tomatoes complemented by orange fizz soda, their happiness was made even greater by the arrival of Gerald. Their friend soon seated himself down next to Phoebe on one side of the booth. Helga and Lila both shared a patient, knowing glance. It was pretty obvious to everyone that the two were almost an official couple.
But what had become of the Sewer King? The wave of water had swept him and his rat minions down through a narrow channel of the sewer and out into a broader spllway. There at last, the Sewer King was able to get back on is feet. Hair dripping wet with water and his rat minions in disarray as some pulled themselves out of the floodwater, the Sewer King glared.
"Hm. Our invasion rebuffed! The Kingdom of Lightdwellers puts up a better defense than I had previously thought. This leaves me with no choice but to go the the above-ground myself. I shudder to think of what horrors I will have to endure there, but it is for the honor of the rat-kingdom! Rats! Your King will champion for you!" the Sewer King declared. He pumped a dirty, clenched fist into the air.
No one saw the Sewer King or any more of his rat minions till the next day. Helga and Arnold had returned to Gerald's field for a little baseball after a long school day. As the waited for the other kids to gather, Helga fished through her pockets for her pack of gum.
"What the?!' Helga blurted out with alarm as she realized the shiny, foily wrappers were empty. "Arnold!" she scolded uncertainly. "Do you have any change on you? You borrowed some of my gum today, remember?!"
"Oh, yeah," Arnold said with flat, bored eyes. "I did. But I don't think I can be much of a help. I don't have much change right now."
"How much ya got?" Arnold held his hand out flat, his palm up. On it was a dime and two pennies.
"Hm," said Helga counting out the change in her own hand. "If only I had a few more pennies… I'll have to raid it from a change cup somewhere."
"Here," said Arnold cupping his hand to drop his scant change into her hand. The dime bounced and rolled to the ground.
"Uh-oh!"
"Look around!" Arnold advized as he began a search of the pavement for the now missing coin.
"That's a tall order, Arnoldo!" Helga mildly complained as she began her own search for the coin. "These things tend to disappear into the abyss of nothing. Oh, found it!" Helga said with glee as she found the coin.
But as Arnold and Helga focused on tinkets and tidbits, the Sewer King was preparing to do the unimaginable. He was going to leave his beloved sewer home for the world outside. Slowly, he stepped out of a circular sewer door. Wrapped head to toe in a blanket to block out the sun, he looked a bit like desert tribesman from Egypt. He snuck behind trashcans and hid behind lampposts as Arnold and Helga celebrated finding the lost coin. The Sewer King could see the rebellious serf in the distance. He grew nearer and nearer.
But a girl in blue jumped in the way. She swung her hands in a karate move. Beyond her, Gerald hunched forward with an angry glare. The Sewer King gasped.
"You. You. You're that other rebellious ratgroomer! Step aside, boy. I have come to challenge the spiky-haired one for another battle at chess!"
"Oh no. Listen to me rat-king. You will never beat Arnold at a game of chess. Even I can't! But I tell you what, to make sure there's no hard feelings between us, we'll give you a peace offering. You'll like that."
"A peace offering?" the Sewer King mumbled. He tapped his fingers together. "Well, I suppose I could consider a truce between our two kingdoms. What kind of gift?"
"Oh, don't worry. I think it's something you'll like."
"And what might that be?"
"Phoebe?" Gerald asked mysteriously. The Sewer King's eyes bulged at the sight of an enormous cheese wheel that Phoebe had been hiding.
"I've been saving it since the last cheese festival," Phoebe explained confidently.
"Holy provilony!" the man shook. "Ahem. I suppose I MIGHT forgive your transgressions against me. So long as you don't expect my royal icon!" The Sewer King clutched the clock which he wore around his neck. He regarded Gerald suspiciously. Abruptly, the man decided on something.
"I will accept your gift in good faith. But first, I must play your leader in a game of chess." Gerald rubbed his chin in thought.
"Then follow me, 'ol Sewer King!" quipped Gerald with a sly smile. He led the strange man up a broad flight of steps to the library in Hillwood. The Sewer King turned around once as someone in a cape ran by shouting, "Monkeyman!"
"What is this place?" The Sewer King asked. He leaned backward out of intimidation. "The palace?"
"Nah. It's the public library," said Gerald. "But your game of chess is waiting inside." Carefully, they made their way in to the back of the library. There, Gerald pulled a book free from the outdated/occult section which the librarians refused to get rid of. There, beside the rolling ladder a door was revealed. Gerald gestured a hand forward, bidding the man to enter the newly appeared door.
"What? Wait!" the Sewer King complained. "That isn't the spiky-haired rebellious ratgroomer."
"No. Today, you will play the king. The ruler of our most secret and mysterious organization in Hillwood. The chessclub! Siobhan?" Gerald asked, bowing away the work to an unattractive but brillinat little redhead girl. But she was not the leader of the chessclub, either. Instead she stood her ground to make an important speech.
"Today you will battle his most exalted, undefeatable, indomitable, master of chess… Brainy!"
"Um, hi!" the awkard looking, crooked-toothed geek said. He fidgeted his fingers together as he sat on a cushioned chair.
"The board!" Siobhan Andrews declared mightily. A board was set by two assistants. Impressed, the Sewer King placed one finger against his chin and got closer to it. Humbly, he sat down on a stool beside the table. It broke under his weight.
"Hm. Time to cheddar a few pounds," he said while someone fetched another chair. Siobhan cleared her throat again, imperiously.
"Let the match begin!"
The Sewer King advanced his first game piece. But his game skills were not improved. It wasn't long before Brainy spoke outloud for the first time.
"Um, checkmate," said the boy twiddling his thumbs. The Sewer King bashed his head against the chessboard in defeat.
"Very well," the Sewer King said miserably as he shook a smiling Brainy's hand. "I will never again bring my minions aboveground to defy the sanctity of your kingdom. I will observe a truce with the lightdwellers."
"Um... okay," Brainy put in to pretend he knew what the Sewer King was talking about. Defeated but proud, the Sewer King accepted his giant wheel of cheese from one of the kids. He began his journey home.
The Sewer King wore a frown, but Gerald was the happiest kid in Hillwood for the evening. To celebrate, he and Phoebe went down to Slaussen's icecream. Helga just happened to be there at another table, slurping whipped cream from off her face. Helga watched the street through the storefront window. She sat up straight suddenly at the sight of Arnold ambling by, that dreamy-eyed expression on his face.
"Hm, 'scuse me," Helga uttered. She shot up from the table. A mere minute later, she jogged by the window in hot pursuit of Arnold, right in front of Gerald and Phoebe. Phoebe watched Gerald for his reaction with concern.
"Are you going stop her?" she asked timidly. Gerald rolled his shoulders back.
"Nah. Helga ain't the kind of girl I'd choose, myself. But maybe all this will turn out good for Arnold. If only he can get some experience so he's not oblivious, maybe he'all can be popular with the ladies. Like me," Gerald declared, smugly.
"Oh, Gerald! You're too much," Phoebe giggled. Eyes equally coy and flirtatious, she rested her slim hand on top of Gerald's. They both leaned across the booth tabletop and deep into one another's eyes. "The things you did today were, incredible Gerald! I just hope that's the last we see of the Sewer King."
"Me, too!" Gerald agreed with fervor. "One thing for we know for sure is NEVER to go into the sewers 'round here! Who knows what's down there!" Gerald said. For emphasis, he swung his hands over his head.
"Agreed," said Phoebe before digging into her pudding dessert.
After a long and trying journey, the Sewer King returned to his throneroom in the sewers of Hillwood, roughly below Arnold's house. He had a giant wheel of cheese and his royal icon so things were not all bad. But he looked a little sad until a bit of water unexpectedy splashed his face. The Sewer King investigated his home to discover a little lost lost alligator with a leather collar around its neck. It looked up at him, then wagged its tail like a dog.
"Hm, Stubby?" asked the Sewer King as he read the name tag. The gator baby continued to wag its tail. The Sewer KIng grinned and began to dance. He spun.
"Oh this is wonderful, wonderful my dearest rats! We may have failed to take over the lightdwellers, but we will have the most mightiest of kingdoms! Stubby shall be our Royal Guardsman!" Stubby wagged his tail some more. He chomped his pointy teeth together in agreement. Gerald would have been dismayed. The sewers of Hillwood had just got a whole lot scarier. The end.
