"The Monarch butterfly goes through four stages during its life cycle: the egg; the larvae; the pupa; and the adult butterfly. For the last twelve years of my life, I have been the larvae—the caterpillar, if you will—gorging myself with milkweed and waiting to become a butterfly…" There was a screen, showing all the stages of the Monarch butterfly behind young Kelly Don Fitzcarraldo. He turned to his audience, his parents, who were sitting uncomfortably in Kelly's kid-sized lounging chairs. His dad had his hand raised. "Ah, does The Mighty Monarch, the Butterfly King, have something to contribute?"

"Um, yeah, when did we get a projector?"

Kelly sighed. "It's Daggy's… He let me borrow it for tonight—you're… we're getting off topic. Let's move on, shall we?" He clicked to the next slide. It was a picture of his parents, looking menacing with their villainy costumes on, with young Kelly photoshopped in next to them.

"Honey, this is all very impressive, but I really have to start getting ready," said his mother, standing, taking the chair up with her.

"What? I'm only a couple slides in," said Kelly. "You guys promised me you would take this seriously!"

"And we have," said his mother. "Your father and I both agree you're too young to be henching for him… let alone, be his number two."

They both turned to his dad, who awkwardly shrugged and let out a nervous laugh.

"I'm not asking for a level nine arching, mom," said Kelly. "I'm just asking for… for a chance. Please. I'm ready. You know I'm ready!"

She crossed her arms, keeping her stance. Her frightful glare told Kelly she wasn't about to back down. Not in this timeline, anyway. "No," she said firmly, turning her heel and walking out of the room.

He stood quiet for a moment, then let out an angry scream and kicked down the chair his mom had been sitting in. I hate you, he wanted to yell out. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. He wanted to break every object he had in his suddenly too childish room. The model of the solar system he built with Daggy. The posters on his walls. His piano keyboard. Hell, he wanted to rip his own hair out! Anything to make them listen. God, if they could just listen to him for once! Instead, he turned away and fought back the urge to cry.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his dad gently smiling at him. Kelly felt a rage inside his guts; how dare you smile… how dare you be happy when I'm so miserable.

"What?" Kelly said. He didn't care how harsh he sounded. He wanted his dad to know he was mad—nay, furious.

His dad glanced at the doorway, making sure his mom was out of earshot. "Look… if it were up to me—"

"You'd let me hench?"

Panic struck his dad, his eyes wide in fear. "I–I didn't say that," he said. He tugged onto his butterfly costume nervously, looking back at the doorway as if his wife would come running in with a hairdryer or comb to attack him with. "That wasn't what I said," he added loudly, so if anyone—his wife—was nearby, they—she—wouldn't get the wrong idea.

When he felt it was safe, he continued: "Look, you're our baby." Kelly looked away, embarrassed. He wasn't a baby; he was twelve and ready to arch. "If anything were to ever happen to you, especially while working with the Guild, we'd be, we'd be…." He cleared his throat, unable to finish the sentence. "The Guild isn't one of your fun little games, kiddo. It's real… with rules, and real consequences if you don't follow those rules."

"So, you're saying I should… follow those rules?"

"Yes! I'm so glad you're getting it," he said. "And the Guild isn't looking for twelve-year-old boys to hench right now."

"Have you always followed the Guild's rules?"

"Me? Are you kidding… Yeah, of course I have! It's…. it's the Guild!" said his dad. There was a nervousness to his voice. He's still scared mom might come back in and start yelling at him to shut up, Kelly suspects. He coughed and sat on Kelly's bed, gesturing for his son to join him. Hesitantly, Kelly did so. "Look, you're a smart kid—way smarter than I was when I was your age. You have your whole life ahead of you, to be whatever you want to be—a villain, if that's what you wanna be—but only a few short years left to be a kid."


Kelly looked curiously at the television as Captain von Trapp ripped the nazi flag. "I guess I never realized this movie had Nazis in it," he said. He grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed his mouth full. Only half made it into his mouth, while the rest of it fell down his shirt and onto the floor.

Gary laughed. "Dude, really? That's, like, the main part of the story, them fleeing from Nazis. Isn't this, like, your favorite movie? How many times have you seen this?"

Kelly shrugged. "I dunno."

Gary sat comfortably on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table. Kelly was on the floor, his back up against the couch. A pile of old Halloween candy and wrappers were scattered around the table and floors; a mess Kelly's mother will certainly scold them for.

"I remember watching this with my grandma when I was four," said Gary. He grabbed a piece of popcorn, threw it in the air and tried to catch it with his mouth. It landed on his shirt. He grabbed it with his hand and plut it into his mouth. "I had a giant crush on the girl who sings about being sixteen."

"Who, Liesl?" The woman in question appeared on screen and Kelly felt nothing. She was pretty but not pretty pretty, thought Kelly. It was then Liesl's brother Friedrich came into shot and Kelly felt strange. Ignoring it, Kelly grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it at Gary. "Gross, dude, she's, like, dead now."

He laughed as Gary threw it back at him.

"Kelly, honey! Are you downstairs?" he heard his mother shout.

"Yeah," he yelled back.

"Come up here," said his mother. "I wanna talk to you."


Kelly found his mother at her vanity, putting mascara on her eyelashes. She was dressed in her black robe, the one with the golden butterfly on the left chest, and her hair was up in a nice, elegant bun.

The years have been very kind to Sheila Fitzcarraldo; she hardly looks a day over thirty-five, which is quite a compliment for a woman in her late forties. Her makeup played a big role in that, of course, concealing all of her wrinkles and age marks, all the things she isn't quite ready to share with the world.

Kelly knocked lightly on the opened door and entered. "If this is about what happened earlier today, save it. Dad already gave me the talk."

Kelly looked very similar to his mother—black hair, blue eyes—but had inherited his father's untidy, long eyebrows, a trait he manages with monthly trimmings. He was tall, like his father, already standing at his mother's height.

She sighed deeply. "Sweetie, I don't do it because I'm against you," she said. "Do you think I like being the bad guy?"

He looked at her curiously for a moment. "Is that a trick question?"

She laughed, her eyes looking at him through the mirror. Moving from her lashes to her lips, she began putting lipstick on her lips. "Yur jus too yung," she continued through pursed lips. Satisfied with her work she smacked her lips together and gifted the air with a gentle kiss. "Maybe after college," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"College?" he said, distaste in his mouth. He didn't even want to go to college, but he wasn't about to tell her that. He just wanted to go straight to arching, with maybe a side career on Broadway.

The glare he got from his mother told him he might have said it a bit too harsh for her liking.

To prove he wasn't about to have one of his tweenage outbursts, like he did this morning, he let out a heavy sigh and plopped face first onto his parents' bed. "I… I don't wanna wait until college," he mumbled under his breath, just low enough so his mother couldn't hear.

"Oh, quit your moping," she said, walking to her closet. "Help me pick out a dress for tonight."

Kelly lifted his head up, so he could examine the dresses. The answer was obvious; both the blue and green ones were beautiful, but not fit to be worn by Dr. Mrs. The Monarch. Not tonight, anyway. "The black one," he said confidently, and let his head drop back down. "It'll match dad's butterfly suit."

"He's not wearing his Monarch outfit to the gala," she said.

"He'll add a bow tie for class."

As if on cue, his dad appeared in the doorway, wearing his monarch costume with a bow tie placed sloppily around his neck. "Ready, honey?" he said. "I just saw Phantom Limb's limo pull up in the driveway."

Kelly lifted his head and met his mother's eyes. There was an awkward pause before both mother and son burst out into laughter.

"What? What's the matter?" said his dad, panic in his voice. He checked the mirror to see if he had something on his face. "Why are you laughing?"

"And the gold earrings," added Kelly. "They look the best in the moonlight."

"Good eye," said his mother, taking the hanger off the black dress. She turned to her husband. "Monarch, we talked about this. Wear the suit in your closet. You look ridiculous."

"What? I look fine," his dad claimed. "Besides, who cares? It's the Guild's Gala… we're the top dogs there. No one's gonna care what we look like."

The doorbell rang, and Kelly ran to answer it quickly. Anything to get away from his bickering parents.


Gary had made it to the door before Kelly. He had already invited the guests into the living room. The Sound of Music had been paused on the television. Kelly kind of wishes Gary had just turned the tv off completely; musicals are Kelly's guilty pleasures and he's a little embarrassed about liking them. Phantom Limb, looking dapper in a black and dark purple three-piece suit, took a seat on the sofa, brushing off some popcorn kettles while doing so. Some blonde bimbo (who had bigger boobs than brains, no doubt) sat awkwardly beside him, eyeing all the candy wrappers sprawled out onto the coffee table. But it was the scrawny boy to Phantom Limb's left that brought joy to the otherwise gloomy Kelly. His happiness traveled down into his stomach, giving him a most welcome ache.

"Hey Daggy," Kelly greeted.

"'Sup," said the boy with a sly grin.

"You have an IQ of one forty, Dagwood," said Phantom Limb, "act like it."

Kelly saw Dagwood roll his eyes. "Sorry, papa," he said. He simply shrugged at Kelly and they shared a moment of internal laughter.

"Sorry about the mess," said Gary awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, Kelly and I, we sorta have this thing every Friday night… where we eat some candy… and some popcorn, and watch a movie or play some video games…" Neither Phantom Limb or his date were listening. "And you don't care. All right—"

"See? You look so much better, sweetie," Kelly heard his mom say. He turned and watched as his parents made their way down the stairs. Kelly's dad, looking more upset than uncomfortable, adjusted the crotch of his pants.

"Kelly Don Fitzcarraldo," said his mom. She was wearing the black dress and gold earrings he had picked out for her. His dad had changed into his black suit; it wasn't as fabulous like his mother's outfit, but it looked nice, nonetheless. "What is this mess? I thought I told you to clean up?" You said no such thing, Kelly thought; his mom should be used to him and Gary wrecking the living room on Friday nights. She was probably just embarrassed because there were guests around. "I expect this place to be clean by the time we get home, mister."

Don't we always, Kelly thought to say.

He turned to Dagwood and shrugged. Now it was his turn to get lectured. Daggy let out a slight snort, which earned him a disapproving glare from his father.

"I hope you don't mind if Dagwood stays over," said Phantom Limb. "His mother is… well, it seems she's taking an unexpected vacation to the Bahamas. And I couldn't find a baby sitter in such short notice." Phantom Limb was clearly irritated; his son simply looked bored.

"Of course not," said his mom, the sternness quickly fading. "Sweetie, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Our home is your home."

"I expect you to be on your best behavior, young man," ordered Phantom Limb. "No funny business, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can we go," asked Kelly's dad, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner. "I wanna get there before the shrimp cocktails are gone."

"Sweetie, it's bottomless," said his mom. "They're not gonna run out."

"That's what you said last year, and they ran out in, like, twenty minutes!"

Phantom Limb and his date stood, brushing popcorn bits off their clothing. He rustled his son's hair with his invisible hand, then he and his date left for the limo.

"There's pizza money on the counter," said Kelly's mom as she kissed her son's forehead. "Be good for Gary and… try not to blow up the house."

"Don't worry, we won't be making that mistake again," said Gary. "Have fun, you two—uh, four. See you at ten."


Kelly and Dagwood sat slumped on the couch, wirelesses video game controllers in hand, mindlessly clicking away. Gary was below them, trash bin in hand, picking the candy wrappers up off the floor.

"You guys could help, you know," said Gary.

"Sorry… can't," said Kelly.

"Zander the Lizard God just captured the princess and we only have three minutes until she gets baked in lava."

"What… dude, that's awesome," said Gary, looking at the tv. "How'd you got pass the guard? I've been stuck on that part for, like, the past two days."

"You have to take a charisma potion before facing him," said Kelly.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"

With a heavy sigh, Gary stood, blocking their view. Kelly and Dagwood, aggravated, struggled to see around him.

"Gary! What're ya doing? Move! We're about to beat the game!" said Kelly, trying to push him out of the way, but Gary was just too big.

There was a sad little jingle and "YOU HAVE DIED" appeared on the screen.

Kelly scoffed. "Dude!" he said. Angry, he slapped Gary's arm. "Now we're going to have to start all over again!"

"You have no idea how much it hurt me to do that," said Gary, handing Kelly the trash bin. "But you promised you'd clean up and you haven't. You can beat Lord Zander once we've finished."

"Fine, I'll help… gees," said Kelly, defeated. He stood, grabbed a pile of wrappers off the coffee table and dumped them into the bin. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," said Gary. "Now, go get the vacuum from the closet."

Dagwood stood, too, but made no effort to help. Instead, he leaned against the wall and watched as Kelly plugged in the vacuum. Though Dagwood stood four inches below his best friend Kelly, he carried himself as elegantly as his father did. "I don't understand why we couldn't go with them. We're old enough to attend that stupid gala. But no, my father decides to take the barista lady from Starbucks instead."

"And my PowerPoint presentation didn't help much either," said Kelly.

"I told you it wouldn't—I'm gonna need that projector back, by the way," said Daggy. "So, onto plan G then?"

"Nah… Nothing's gonna convince them, I don't think," said Kelly. "My dad told me to wait, and just be a kid… Follow the Guild's rules, he said. Like he did."

He was about to start up the vacuum when Gary burst out into laughter.

"What?" asked Kelly, confused.

"Oh… oh, I thought you were joking."

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, your dad broke the Guild's rules all the time! He was arching Venture way before the Guild knew about it," said Gary. "Oh, and then the Guild banned him from arching Dr. Venture, so we dressed up as the Blue Morpho and Kano and killed all the villains who were arching Venture. If your dad has taught me anything over the years, it's that bad guys don't follow the rules."

Kelly turned to Dagwood, a mischievous smile forming on his face.

"Plan G?" asked Dagwood.

Kelly shook his head. "No plan. Not this time," he said. "I think I'm gonna take a page out of my dad's book—c'mon."

Quickly, the two boys ran upstairs.

"H-hey, where're you guys going," Gary yelled up after them. He turned to the plugged-in vacuum. "You still need to vacuum!"