The chamber in the back of the lair, as it turned out, was meant for holding hostages, as it contained cells akin to that of a prison's, complete with iron bars. Peptos threw the three Grossologists into one, locked the door, and left to prepare for the rocket's launch.
"Man, his lair is elaborate," Ty complained as the three got up.
"It's not his," came a voice.
Someone came out of the dark corner of the cell. A blue-skinned man, in a pressurized suit with a glass dome, hovering above the floor.
"AAAAAAH!" Naomi shrieked, jumping. Ty caught her, they exchanged an awkward glance, and he set her down.
"Fartor," Ty said. "How come you're not on the moon?"
"It lost the flatulent atmosphere I had wound up giving it," the villain replied. "I forgot that it had no magnetic field. So I rebuilt Fartzilla and went back to Earth. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to think up a new scheme in months."
"That explains why I haven't seen you yet," Naomi said. "But what do you mean by 'this isn't his'?"
"The lair is not Peptos'. It belongs to the A.C.E."
"Ace?" Jetpack asked.
"Association of Clarksburg Evildoers. Two months ago, Lance Boil thought it would be a good idea if we villains stopped fighting amongst each other and pool our efforts to beat you Grossologists. So we built this lair. The hexagonal rooms you've probably seen are our quarters (the design was Insectiva's idea, I may add), and we commute to our regular lairs to plot."
"So...what about Peptos?"
"He came here three weeks ago, claiming he wanted to join us. He had a mind-control device he said he was going to use on you to prevent you from stopping us. It turned out he had other things in mind - he set the device on us instead."
"How come you're not zombified too?" Naomi asked.
"The mutations that allow me to breathe methane also rendered me immune to mind control. I tried to stop Peptos myself, but I couldn't, and that's how I ended up here."
"Well, we're goners," Ty said. The others looked at him, surprised he hadn't spoken for a while. "The villains can't fight him, we can't fight him, and now Peptos is going to rule the world. What kind of hero am I? I can't do anything right. Maybe I shouldn't have survived..."
"Ty, what are you saying?" Naomi cried. Ty looked at her. "This isn't like you at all," she continued. "Lab Rat has told me what you and Abby have been doing. You've done the impossible before, and you can do it again. Please, Ty," she pleaded, starting to tear up, "do it for us. Or at least...do it for me."
Ty started processing what she had said when he was interrupted by a blaring "T-minus three minutes until launch."
"No," Ty said, standing taller now. "Not today, Pepto-bismol. I'll find a way to get out of this mess."
"But how?" Jetpack asked. "That thingy on your neck can't be broken off."
"Jetpack, you can shoot hydrochloric acid out of your butt," Naomi pointed out.
"No I can't! I need one more bleurgh!"
"And I know where to get it," Ty said. He reached over and pressed a button on Fartor's suit, which retracted the glass shield. Now exposed to air, Fartor got sick, and vomited onto the floor.
"Never do that again!" Fartor snapped, putting the shield back up.
Jetpack ate the vomit. Once he was finished, his abdomen began to glow. He turned around, arched his abdomen up, and shot a stream of acid at the lock of the door. It dissolved. Ty bent over, allowing a few tiny drops to land on the power inhibitor, the acid etching a crack. Ty's body glowed a little, and he turned himself into a blackish-orange ooze, slithered out of the collar, and reformed into his complete body, slimesuit and all (yeah, Ty's clothes modify with his powers).
Ty kicked down the door, walked out of the cell, and punched the door to the chamber. It snapped off its hinges under the force of Ty's superstrength, and fell to the ground.
"Let's go!" Ty commanded.
Naomi blushed. "I knew he could do it," she said to herself.