Edna said 'No Capes' but Syndrome didn't listen, the extra fabric dragging him into the turbine and ultimately his death. But what if he wasn't wearing his cape when it happened? An alternate ending that revolves around Syndrome narrowly escaping death and the girl that helped him do it.
I fell to my knees, sweat dripping down my forehead. Clenching my fist I struggled to my feet, wiping my brow.
"MR. PARR! SIR, I-" I stopped short looking up. A group of Supers, all dressed in the same red spandex, stood just outside the house in question. Way up above the man floated near a huge plane, screaming his head off.
"THIS ISN'T THE END OF IT! I WILL GET YOUR SON, EVENTUALLY!" he shouted, "I'LL GET YOUR SON!"
The biggest Super, a brawny blonde man, squinted up. Seeming to make a decision he hefted the Parr's parked Corvette high over his head, chucking it at the villain. The car rammed into the plane, exploding on impact. The man shrieked, pushing with his rocket boots with all the strength he had. He seemed to have lost one at some point, spinning erratically through the air on only one boot.
An enormous creak reonated through the air, and I gaped up. The plane gave one last shake before plummeting downward, a mass of blazing metal darkening the sky. I stood frozen, unable to breathe, much less move.
"HELEN, BYSTANDER!" the blonde Super called.
"Huh? Oh!" the woman's arm stretched what must have been over ten feet, wrapping around my waist and pulling me in close. I squeezed my eyes shut and the most incredibly loud noise I'd ever heard shook every bone in my body.
"That's my girl," the woman smiled. I looked up, confused as a purple force field faded around us. I was alive. The Supers stood around me, grinning from ear to ear. The smallest one, no more than a child, glanced up at the big one.
"Does this mean we have to move again?" they all laughed good naturedly, relieved beyond anything else.
"Wait, um, Miss," the woman, Helen looked me over, "Who are you?"
"I'm, uh," all their eyes were on me now, and it wasn't a particularly comfortable feeling, "I'm his baby sitter. Replacement sitter," I pointed at the boy in Helen's arms, "And you are…?" this was a weird situation and not one I had any level of experience with.
The man and the women exchanged a look, the kind where you know there's a whole conversation going on you can't hear. Being Supers, that could very well be happening. While I was grateful for the whole saving bit, I wasn't very comfortable with them, especially after some of the things I've heard.
"We're Mr. and Mrs. Parr," Helen finally spoke up. She pulled her kids over, "Violet and Dashielle."
"You can call me Bob," the bigger man stepped forward, offering a hearty handshake, "Do you have a card or…?"
"Oh, yeah!" I turned around, before remembering what had happened, "Well it was in my car… and my car kinda blew up."
"How about a phone number?"
"Yeah, here," I repeated my number until he committed it to memory. I told him what happened and he offered me a ride back to my house. I declined until his friend came over, a Super in a white and blue suit, explaining he was heading in that direction.
Now we were flying through the city, trying to make polite conversation. His hand was wrapped firmly around my waist. We were soaring on this ice skid thing that I assume he was making.
"The name's Frozone," he nodded, glancing down at me.
"I'm Allison, Allison Henley," I offered a half smile, squinting through the wind. He nodded again, almost like he was approving my name, "So you do… ice?"
He grinned, "It's called 'Cryokinesis' but yeah, I 'do ice'."
I laughed sheepishly. He seemed pretty laid back, if not a little closed off.
"This your street right?" I jumped a little, torn from my thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, yeah," I pulled a little closer to him as we rounded the corner. Skidding to a halt he dropped he right outside my apartment, a dumb grin on his face.
"What?" I laughed, still a little light headed from the speed of it all.
"Consider your day… saved," he bowed deeply before hopping back on his ice thingy, disappearing before I could even say goodbye.
Giggling like a little kid I ran up the stairs two at a time. I was still a bit high off the general excitement of the day, something a professional babysitter rarely experiences. Pushing inside I threw my cardigan over the coat rack, flopping onto the couch. Rolling onto my stomach I grabbed the phone off its stand, checking for new messages.
"Uh, hi," a man started, I checked the caller ID but it wasn't an identified number. More interested I pressed it back to my ear, "This is Bob, Bob Parr. I was wondering if you'd consider being Jack Jack's full time sitter? He has special, erm, needs and you're the one we think is best qualified for the job. We'd love if you could so call back when you can, thanks," the line went dead. I grinned, tossing the phone back down I jumped to my feet. A real, full time job. I could stop using the headquarters as a third party and keep all the revenue. I was a dream come true.
"Mr. Parr? This is Allison, the babysitter," I smiled, "I'd love to babysit Jack Jack."
I can't continue with this until I get some reviews.
So Syndrome isn't dead, if you didn't catch him flying off. He's pretty bent on stealing the Parr's son and now the lady who tried to thwart him is the personal guardian. Not good for anyone. Dun Dun DUHHHHHH