Once Big D, Phyllis, and Fluey got home, Big D went directly into the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of pills out of the cabinet.

"Sheesh, chief, that House of Horrors wasn't that bad, was it?" Fluey asked. "What'd you encounter in there, anyway?"

"I'd rather not say," Big D said.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yes."

Big D then took a couple of the pills out of the bottle and swallowed them. Then he went into the den. He needed to sit down for a minute. Fluey followed him.

"You okay, chief?" he asked. "You look like you're gonna have a heart attack or something."

"I'll be fine," Big D said. "Don't worry about me. Just do me one favor."

"Sure, boss."

"Stay away from that carnival. There's something odd going on there. I don't know what it is, but I know it's trouble."

"Sheesh, chief, you're starting to sound like Multi and Coiley. Nothing's going on over there! I'm the one with the sixth sense, remember? I'd know if something fishy was going on or not! Besides, I can't stay away from the carnival, I've got a job there!"

"I don't care if you do, Fluid. I don't want you anywhere near that place."

"But chief . . . ."

"No arguments! Stay away from that carnival!"

And with that, Big D left the room. He needed to get back on the case the FBI gave him anyway. Fluey just glared after him. There was no way Fluey was going to stay away from the carnival, that was for darn sure!

The next day, as Big D was working on the case, the chief of police called in with a robbery report, and requested he dispatch the Impossibles. Big D immediately tuned his desk console to Coiley's guitar.

"Routine bank robbery, boys," he said. "You know what to do."

"Check, chief!" Coiley shouted.

"I'll call Fluey," Multi said, grabbing his guitar. He began turning the tuners on his guitar to pick up Fluey's wrist communicator, but for some odd reason, he wasn't able to get a signal.

"This is really weird," Multi said. "I can't get hold of Fluey."

"Maybe he has his communicator turned off," Coiley said, shrugging. "Which really isn't like him, is it?"

"I know," Multi said. "But we can't go look for him and see what he's doing now. We've got a robbery to stop."

"Right," Coiley said.

"Rally ho!" Multi and Coiley shouted and they used their transformers to change into their superhero alter egos in order to halt the robbery downtown.

This went on for two days in a row. Big D would call in the boys, and only Multi and Coiley would respond. Nobody could get in touch with Fluey, not even Danalleah! On the third day after this, Multi and Coiley went down to the carnival. Sure enough, there was Fluey performing his magic act. He was just finishing up the last trick when Multi and Coiley arrived.

"Fluey, we've got to talk," Coiley said.

"What's up, fellas?" Fluey asked, climbing down from the stage.

"For the past two days, we've been trying to contact you over assignments," Multi said. "Coiley and I had to bust two robberies without you, because we tried, and we couldn't get hold of you."

"Oh yeah," Fluey said. "I decided not to answer it. I'm not in the mood to deal with crime fighting assignments right now."

"Fluey, you can't just blow off an assignment like this," Coiley said, sounding a little perturbed. "We're going to tell Big D about this."

"Whoa, hey, come on, you guys!" Fluey shouted. "I don't think you have to go that far! Come on, he's too busy with that mystery case to deal with something like this, anyway."

"Fluey, we . . . . ." Multi started.

"Gotta go, fellas," Fluey said, suddenly. "Mr. Nightshade's waiting for me. See ya later!"

"And there he goes again," Coiley groaned, as he and Multi watched Fluey run toward Mr. Nightshade.

"I really don't like the fact that he's ditching us for that creep," Multi said.

Coiley agreed, but there wasn't anything they could do about it, except inform Big D that Fluey was purposely skipping assignments. But that wasn't the only trouble with Fluey. He had been sneaking in and out of the house all the time, and he wouldn't tell Phyllis, or Big D where he was going. There were times Big D did let him go out, but only if he promised to be home before midnight, and twice already, he had caught Fluey trying to sneak into the house at four in the morning, telling him he was either at a rehearsal with the other two Impossibles, and lost track of time, or out with Danalleah at the movies and he fell asleep during the picture. Since Big D had a deadline on the case he was working on, he just let it go. He didn't have time to deal with Fluey's antics anyway.

Three days later, Big D went outside to get the morning newspaper out of the driveway. As he was on his way back into his house, he heard an overly cheerful sounding voice coming from the house next door.

"Oh, yoo-hoo! Mr. Dawson!"

It was Mrs. Travis, the nosy neighbor next door. She was not the chief's favorite person. She liked to go poking her nose in everybody's business, and then gossip about it at the beauty parlor.

"Good morning, Mrs. Travis," Big D responded.

"We haven't seen you around much these days," Mrs. Travis said.

"Well, I've been busy at work."

"I assume your grandson has been busy with something, too?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I saw him leave your house about an hour ago. As a matter of fact, he's been leaving your house around the same time every day. Haven't you noticed that?"

"As I stated before, Mrs. Travis, I have been busy with a project at work. I can't keep track of my grandson's activities every second."

"Yes, I suppose that is true, especially considering he's a teenager and teenagers tend to just run off and do what they will. Incidentally, I ran into him last night at the carnival. I tried to get his attention, but he just ignored me. It was very odd indeed, Mr. Dawson! That boy has never been so rude to me in my life!"

"Last night at the carnival, you said?"

"Yes, exactly right. He was talking with a tall gentleman with dark hair and a mustache and beard . . . . . and he wore all black, too. A very . . . . . strange looking man. He gave me chills just looking at him! And young Franklin was acting like this man was his father!"

"Really. Well, I'll just have to look into that. Good day, Mrs. Travis."

And with that, Big D went back inside, and called HQ. He was going to put Dr. Phelps in charge for the day and work on the FBI case from home, though his mind wasn't on it. He wanted to storm right down to the carnival that very second, and drag Fluey home by the ear if he had to. But he decided against it. He decided to wait until Fluey returned home. That would give him some time to curb his temper. And he knew Fluey always came back home from the carnival in the evening, and then go right back out again. Big D hoped he would do that today, because there were also days where he wouldn't get home until four in the morning.

"Where is that boy?" he mumbled, looking out the window. "I am not going all the way down to that carnival to get him. He's certainly going to get it once he gets home!"

"Calm down, chief," Phyllis said. "He's just going through that rebellious teen phase. You know I went through it, and you said Daddy went through it, too."

"Yes, he did," Big D replied. "And that rebellious teen phase of your father's resulted in you!"

Phyllis then decided to back off. She knew Big D wasn't in a good mood, and it was best not to antagonize him.

Luckily for the chief, Fluey got home that evening at about six. He would have stayed longer, but Mr. Nightshade had told him to go home for awhile. He was setting up something "special" for Fluey, but it wouldn't be ready until later. And he figured Big D was working late at HQ again, so he'd never know he had been gone all day.

"Hold it right there!" Big D shouted.

"Uh oh," Fluey said, stopping. "Busted."

"You went to the carnival, didn't you?" Big D asked. "After I told you I didn't want you going there, you went there, didn't you?"

"Well, I . . . ." Fluey started.

"Didn't you?"

"Okay, yes, I did. But what's the big deal about it, anyway?"

"I told you I didn't want you to go back there. I don't trust that Nightshade person."

"Oh, come on, chief! He's a great guy! You know my intuition. I'm not getting any bad vibes about this guy!"

"But I am. And after what I saw in that haunted house of his, I am definitely not trusting him. I'm sure he's up to something, but I can't arrest him because I don't know what he's up to, and he hasn't done anything illegal."

"Come on, chief, when are you gonna learn to listen to my instincts? They were right all along when it came to that fake fiance of Phyllis's!"

"True. But you said so yourself that even you have off days. I'm sorry, Fluid, but I don't trust him, and I don't like you hanging around that carnival."

"Oh, come on, I don't see what the big deal is!"

Fluey then started to go down the hall into the kitchen. As far as he was concerned, this conversation was over. However, Big D had other ideas.

"Maybe there isn't a big deal with you spending so much time at that carnival," he said. "However, there is a big deal skipping out on an assignment just because you're not in the mood! I'm thoroughly disappointed in you, young man. I simply just can not believe you would skip an assignment, an easy assignment no less, to spend time at a cheap carnival!"

That stopped Fluey in his tracks. He turned toward the chief, and stared at him.

"How did you . . . . ." he started. "Coiley and Multi told you, didn't they? Ooooh, those rat finks!"

"Fluid, your behavior is unacceptable of an agent of the Secret Security Headquarters! As an agent, you are required to carry out all orders!"

"Look, it's no big deal, chief. I mean, what's wrong with wanting to have a little fun in my life?"

"Nothing. But this just isn't like you, Fluid. The fact that you're spending every minute of your time at that carnival . . . . you know, I'm not the only one with reservations over this Mr. Nightshade. Both Coil, and Multi, and your girlfriend are suspicious of him, too. I've talked to both Multi and Coil over this. I noticed that girlfriend of yours seemed to want to get away from Mr. Nightshade as fast as she possibly could whenever she was around him. They said she had been doing this since you all met him."

"You know, I never really noticed."

"That's not surprising. Fluid, seriously, I've got a deadline on a case, and I absolutely do not have time for this sort of thing, so . . . . ."

"Oh there's a shock. You don't have time for anything! All you ever do is work, work, work, work work! Don't you ever take a break? You say you have an obligation to the agency, but what about your obligation to your family? Sometimes, I think you care more about that stupid job of yours than you do about me and Phyllis!"

Big D just stood there. Phyllis, who was nervously watching the action from down the hall, began chewing on the end of her hair. She was getting an icky feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was going to turn ugly.

"Fluid," Big D said, trying to remain patient. "I know you're upset with me in that regard, and I don't blame you, but that does not excuse you from blowing off assignments, just because you don't feel like taking them. That is not how this agency runs, young man, and you know it! Just because you're my grandson does not mean you get any special treatment or special privileges, young man! Neither does Phyllis, and neither did your father when he was an agent!"

"All right, already, chief!" Fluey shouted. "I get the message! I won't do it again! Good grief."

Fluey then stomped into the kitchen, mumbling under his breath. He grabbed a soda can from the refrigerator, popped it open, drank about half of it, left the can on the kitchen counter, and headed for the front door. On his way out, Big D grabbed him by the arm.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"Back to the carnival," Fluey said, glaring at Big D, and yanking his arm away. "Whether you like it or not, chief!"

"You'll do nothing of the sort! I told you already, I don't want you going to that carnival again! I absolutely forbid you to go to that carnival again!"

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"I beg to differ. I can tell you what to do. I am both your boss, and your grandfather, and your legal guardian, therefore, I indeed have the authority to . . . ."

"Hah! You're my grandfather. You sure haven't been acting much like my grandfather, that's for sure, what with this mystery FBI case and all . . . . . you say you're my grandfather, so when are you gonna start acting like one?"

"All right. Fine. I'll start acting like your grandfather, when you start acting like a sixteen-year-old instead of a two-year-old! I had warned you once, if you are going to act like a child, I'm going to treat you like a child. And your behavior right now is bordering that of a spoiled brat! Now go to your room this minute before I drag you there by your ear, young man!"

Fluey just glared at the chief, and folded his arms over his chest. He made no indication of going upstairs.

"You're a rotten parent, you know that?" he said. "You know why Dad was so out of control? Because you didn't know how to handle him. And you don't know how to handle me, either! Maybe if you weren't such a lousy father, I wouldn't even be here, and you'd never have to bother with me. You don't care anything about me, I know you don't!"

"That's not true!" Big D shouted. "I'm doing this for your own good! That carnival is bad news! And knowing your habit of getting into trouble . . . . ."

"I can take care of myself! I don't need your so-called protection! I'm surprised you managed to run the Secret Security Headquarters all these years. Maybe that's why Dad was so out of control. You were probably more concerned over your stupid job than you were your own son! You know what you are as a parent? Worthless!"

Almost immediately, Big D slapped Fluey across the face, and hard. Phyllis gasped. She couldn't believe Big D actually did that! Fluey held his stinging cheek in his hand, and stared at the chief, his eyes wide with shock.

"Don't you ever say that to me again!" Big D shouted. "And don't you ever use that tone of voice with me again, young man! What gives you the right to speak to me in that manner? When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it! Furthermore . . . . ."

Before Big D could go on, Fluey ran up the stairs, and dashed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Big D stormed up after him, and tried to open the door, but Fluey had locked it from the inside.

"Don't you walk away from me when I'm talking to you, young man!" Big D yelled. "Open this door right now!"

"No!" Fluey yelled. "Go away and leave me alone!"

"Fluid, if you don't open the door this second . . . . ."

"Try and make me!"

Big D glared at the door, pounded it one more time with his fist, and let out a frustrated groan.

"You ungrateful little wretch!" he shouted. "Then you can just stay in there the rest of the night!"

And with that, Big D gave the door a final whack with his fist, and stormed down the stairs. Phyllis was standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the chief, shocked.

"I can't believe you actually . . . . ." she began.

"Don't start!" Big D shouted at her. "I'm in no mood!"

Phyllis backed off. She knew now was not a good time to talk to the chief. He needed some time to cool off. She contemplated going upstairs to try to talk to Fluey, but she had a feeling he wasn't in the mood to talk, either.

Later that night, Fluey decided to just go ahead and sneak out of the house to the carnival. He knew Mr. Nightshade was waiting for him. He wasn't going to take too long with this, anyway. He just wanted to see what this "special" thing Mr. Nightshade had cooked up was. He took his transformer out of his pocket, pushed the green button on it, and converted to his superhero form. Then, he opened his window slightly, converted to liquid, and effortlessly slipped out of the house. He stayed in his liquidized state until he got out of the neighborhood. He didn't want to take any chances of someone seeing him. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he took his transformer and pushed the blue button on it, converting back to his rock 'n roller form. Then he ran for the fairgrounds. Once he got there, he noticed several of the workers were dismantling the rides and taking down the game booths and food stands.

"Ah, Franklin, there you are," Mr. Nightshade said. "What took you so long? I was just about to give up on you."

"I had a little trouble at home," Fluey said. "What's going on here, anyway?"

"I'm afraid we have to pack up and leave town earlier than we anticipated," Mr. Nightshade said. "We had an incident at the House of Horrors today. Somebody went in, and had a heart attack. You'll probably see it in the news sometime tomorrow. We have to leave by ten tomorrow morning."

"Wow, I hope it wasn't anybody I know! So I guess I won't be getting that special surprise you were talking about, huh?"

"No, it's all ready. Come on. I wasn't going to have it dismantled quiet yet. I was going to give you until eight o'clock tomorrow morning before I took it down."

Mr. Nightshade led Fluey over to a building similar to the House of Horrors, only this one was called "The Mirror Maze."

"I was hoping to open it for the public tomorrow," Mr. Nightshade said. "But, as I said, we have to move out. But, since I haven't dismantled it just yet, why don't you head inside, and take a look around?"

"Okay," Fluey said. "I hope it doesn't take me too long to find my way out of here."

And with that, Fluey went into the Mirror Maze, and started looking around. The maze was filled with standard fun house mirrors. As he walked further into the maze, he noticed one mirror in the center of it. It appeared to be a bit clouded, and he was suddenly drawn toward it. As he came closer to the mirror, the cloudiness of it cleared, and a couple of shapes began to form, though Fluey couldn't make them out at first, but they began to take shape the closer he came. He suddenly stopped in his tracks as the mirror cleared completely. Instead of his own reflection, Fluey saw a man and a woman in the mirror. The man had brown hair, blue eyes, and wore a read T-shirt, blue jeans, and white tennis shoes. The woman also had brown hair, worn was in a ponytail held by a tortoiseshell barrette, brown eyes, and she wore a blue shirt, jeans, and blue flats. Fluey stared at them for a few moments, wide-eyed, and slightly slack-jawed. He found he couldn't speak for a moment. He was looking at his adopted parents, David and Janice McAlister.

"Mom?" he asked, like he couldn't believe it. "Dad? This . . . . this can't be possible! They've been dead for thirteen years!"

"Come on, Franky," Janice said. "It's time to go."

"Go?" Fluey asked. "Go where?"

"Go home, of course," David said.

"Home?" Fluey repeated.

"Don't you want to go home with us, champ?" David asked, using his nickname for Fluey.

"It's what you've always wanted, Franky," Janice said. "We'll be a real family again."

Fluey stood there, still feeling a bit shocked. He was being offered something he wanted more than anything else in the world, and that was his parents back, so he could have a real family. But something in the back of his mind was telling him this wasn't right. He had learned long ago, if something was too good to be true, it usually was. He started to turn away and go toward the exit, when he stopped, and thought back to when he was three years old, right after the car accident. When he had been told his parents were dead, all he could do was cry. Three days straight, the only thing he did was cry. For years, he wanted to be in his mother's arms, and he never wanted to let go. He stood there, biting his lower lip, thinking about this. Here was the chance for him to have his heart's desire. Could he really pass this up? Fluey turned around, and raced toward the mirror, throwing himself into Janice's open arms. Janice wrapped her arms around him, and held him tight.

"Awww, that's Mama's good boy," she said, using the pet name she had given Fluey a long time ago.

Fluey smiled. He could stay like that forever, but he knew he couldn't. He knew he had to get home before Big D found out he snuck out. Then he'd really be in for it! He tried to pull away from his mother, but found that her grip on him had increased. He looked up at his parents, and saw that they had suddenly turned into skeletons. Fluey led out a terrified shriek, and tried to get away, but the two skeletons pulled him into that "mirror," and threw him into a trap door in the floor. Once he landed, he stood up and looked around. But the minute he did, he was grabbed from behind, and a gloved hand clamped over his mouth. Fluey desperately tried to pull away, but this person was far too strong for him. Still, it didn't stop him from struggling and screaming. He was dragged over to what appeared to be a blood red circus train cage with gold accents. Fluey was thrown unceremoniously inside of it, banging his head against one of the iron bars. There was a sinister sounding chuckle, and the slamming and locking of the cage door. Then, Fluey moaned, and lost consciousness. A shadowy figure then reached through the bars of the cage, and removed Fluey's wrist communicator, and took his transformer out of his pocket.

"We'll just have to take care of these, now, won't we, Franklin?" the figure said.

The cage was then wheeled up a ramp, and hooked up to a black train. Then, various people climbed aboard, and the train began moving down the tracks.

Dawn broke over Megatropolis. Phyllis was in the kitchen, mixing up some batter and pouring it into the waffle iron. She also had coffee brewing. She was anticipating a bad day coming, especially if Big D was still in a foul mood. After the fight he and Fluey had, Big D had stayed in a bad mood the rest of the night, and Phyllis had no idea if he had cooled off yet. She was about to get her answer though, and it was a good thing she had the coffee brewing. Big D practically staggered into the kitchen, looking tired and disheveled.

"Don't say a word," he said. "Just get me some coffee."

"Bad night?" Phyllis asked, grabbing the pot from the coffee maker.

"You don't know the half of it," Big D said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I didn't get any sleep. I kept thinking about the fight last night. Calling him an ungrateful wretch . . . . slapping him . . . . . I can't believe I did that."

"Well . . . . you said sometimes when people get really angry or really frustrated, they tend to say and do things they don't mean."

"I know, but slapping him across the face . . . . . is he up yet?"

"I don't think so. His door was still closed when I passed his room when I got up."

Big D took a sip of his coffee, and then put his cup on the table. Phyllis went back to the waffle iron.

"You don't use that thing very often, do you?" Big D asked.

"Only for special occasions," Phyllis said. "And after last night, I figured Fluey could use a little cheering up."

"Let me ask you something. Do you think I'm a bad parent?"

"Well . . . . . I wouldn't recommend you for Father-of-the-Year after what happened last night, but no, I don't think you're a bad parent. I think Fluey's just upset because you're devoting so much time to that mystery case, and every time he tries to get you to spend a little time with him, you keep telling him you'll do it later. And then, later comes, and you're still to busy. I'm sorry to be so blunt, chief, but maybe we wouldn't be having the problem of him spending so much time at the carnival if you had given him a little more attention."

Phyllis expected Big D to hit the roof after that one. However, he didn't. Instead, he took a deep breath, exhaled, and stood up.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," he said. "I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me. I'm going to make it up to him. I'll put Phelps in charge of the agency for the day. I'm not going to work on that FBI case today. I'm devoting the entire day to Fluid, no questions asked. If he wants to go to the carnival, then . . . ."

"Well, there's some good news for you in that regard," Phyllis said, picking up the newspaper. "It left last night. Apparently, someone had a heart attack at that haunted house. He'll be all right, though, thank goodness."

"I see. Well, I'd better go upstairs and wake your brother up. I owe him a big apology."

Phyllis unplugged the waffle iron, and followed Big D upstairs. Big D knocked on Fluey's door and waited a few seconds. When Fluey didn't answer, Big D tried again, knocking a little harder than he had before.

"Fluid, are you up?" he asked. Again, no answer. Big D grabbed the door knob, and tried opening the door, but it was still locked.

"He can't still be that mad, can he?" Phyllis asked.

"I'm getting a bad feeling about this," Big D said. "Stand back. I'm going to break the door down."

Phyllis backed up, as did Big D. Then, the chief kicked the door, karate style, which opened the door (without it falling off it's hinges, thank goodness). He and Phyllis ran inside the room, and found it empty. The window was wide open, and Fluey's wrist communicator and transformer were sitting on his desk, alongside a piece of paper.

"What's this?" Phyllis asked, picking up the paper. "Looks like a note. Dear Phyllis, please give my communicator and transformer to the chief. Tell him he can consider them my resignation. I'm going to join the carnival, since it's obvious I'm not wanted around here. Fluey."

"What?" Big D shouted, and he grabbed the note away from Phyllis. He read through it himself, wrapping his arm around his granddaughter's shoulders.

"Looks like he ran away from home, chief," Phyllis said.

"Call Agents Multi and Coil," Big D said. "Then get in touch with some of the other agents that aren't currently on assignment. We have to track down that carnival! If Fluid left with it, who knows where he is now."

"Right, chief!" Phyllis shouted, and she darted out of the room as fast as she could. Big D just looked at Fluey's note, and sat down at the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, and covered his eyes with his hand. He couldn't get the events from the night before out of his mind, and he just knew it was his fault Fluey ran away.

"What have I done?" he asked himself.