Villain: Redux

By Yay Ninja Bob


Author's Note:

So, originally I was planning to upload this chapter next week. HOWEVER, when I finished this chapter it went over 22,000 words (laughs nervously)... I just felt like that was TOO long. So, I ultimately decided to cut this chapter down. That's OK, because the last portion of this chapter is actually fitting pretty nicely in chapter 3. Because of this, technically I'm already 6,000 words into chapter 3 at this point. Since holidays are around the corner, I will be taking a couple weeks off from writing starting the 24th. BUT... I hate taking breaks from writing during awkward half-finished spots in the narrative, so I hope to get the next chapter up in another couple weeks before I take vacation. Can I do it? WHO KNOWS. Wish me luck.


Villain: Redux

Part I: Remote Control

Chapter 2

The neighborhood of Boil Heights was considered the "far corner" of Townsville. Located on the east side of Downtown Townsville, Boil Heights was labeled as one of those "unlivable" areas in Townsville's early history. During that time, the area was to be avoided due to the intimidating population of green-skinned natives who lived there by the Townsville River. Settlers feared they somehow related to the monsters of Monster Isle. It took some decades, but overtime they realized the river people were harmless, and did not crave human flesh like the beasts from the island. In fact, the river people were just as human as they. Just green humans, as it turned out.

As Townsville developed into a true community, Boil Heights was founded, and both natives and settlers came together. The area was named after the record heat the riverside community would face every summer. Today, the reason many would still call the area "unlivable," was because of this worsening fact. They called it "Boil Heights" for the basin's brutal heat, and the temperature only intensified with every summer. The land itself seemed to be sunken and it created a pocket of literally boiling lands. The hot, concrete neighborhood's borders ran along the Townsville River- the barrier between the east side and the heart of Downtown Townsville.

The concrete streets of East Downtown were mostly deserted during the day. This was especially true in the summer. The heat kept everybody indoors, close to their home air-conditioner units. Today, at just nine 'o clock in the morning, the temperature was already at a brutal 112 degrees Fahrenheit. The wall AC in Ace's one bedroom apartment struggled to maintain a decent temperature, as Ace worked in the kitchen. Normally, he wouldn't be crazy enough to be using the stove on such a hot morning, but today was an exception. It would be the last morning he would have the opportunity to cook breakfast in the apartment he had lived in for the last five years of his life. It was his first real place of his own, other than the run-down shack of a clubhouse he and his gang built as teens in the Townsville dump. He got his first tattoo in that apartment. It was where he had celebrated not only his own twenty-first birthday, but also his best friends Snake, Billy, Grubber, and Arturo's twenty-first birthday ragers all went down in that very apartment. Arturo's pregnant girlfriend's water broke on that apartment's kitchen floor. And when his cousin Arturo was locked up, Ace took that baby girl in himself and raised her in that apartment. Sophia was two when her father Arturo was sentenced to life in the Villains Ward. That was three years ago.

The complex was called Highland Park Suites. His apartment number was twenty-seven, and it was the third unit to the left of the elevator, on the fourth floor. If you somehow got to the apartment with six cats in the window, you had gone too far. The tiny, four-hundred and fifty square foot apartment with shaggy grey carpet that had once been beige, was home to him and his goddaughter, Sophia. And while it wasn't the fanciest of places, it was still their home.

The blazing heat was enough to make anyone feel hazy, but Ace felt particularly out of it that morning. He even chose to skip his usual morning dose of cannabis. His head was clouded enough as he had to face a reality he wished wasn't true. The sixty-day notice to move was nailed to his door sixty days ago. Today was moving day, and unfortunately the day him and Sophia would have to say goodbye to the place they called home.

"Nino!" the tiny five-year-old cried out as she ran into the kitchen, "Nino, you're burning it!"

Ace had spaced out as he stood over the burning bacon that he cooked on the stove. When Sophia shouted at him, he snapped back into focus and quickly turned down the burner. "Woah!"

"Nino, you're sucha fool," the little girl giggled as she watched her uncle scrape the now charcoal-like breakfast meat from the pan.

Ace laughed along with her, "Me? A fool? Nah, I just like mine extra crispy," he said with a smile as he fixed a plate of chorizo and bacon for Sophia, giving her the least burnt pieces.

"What about toast?" Sophia asked.

"Sorry, Kid. The toaster is at the shop already."

"With our couch, and my bed, and the TV-"

"Yep," Ace handed Sophia her plate of breakfast, and took his own from the kitchen counter, "And our table!" he added with a dramatically exaggerated gasp.

The five-year-old's brown eyes widened as she gasped, too, "Then where do we eat breakfast, Nino?"

"Right here!" Ace slid down, with his back against the kitchen counter, and plopped down onto the yellow tile of the kitchen floor. He crossed his legs and sat his plate of breakfast down in front of him. Sophia then mimicked what he had done, plopping down right beside her uncle.

As the pair began breakfast, Ace heard a loud banging coming from his apartment's front door. "Stay here," he instructed Sophia as he rose to his feet.

"But it's almost nine thirty!"

"I'll be back in time. I promise," he said as he walked from the kitchen into the living area.

Ace answered the door, and it was his former landlord. A short, elderly man with a bald head, but an aggressive mustache. The white-collared shirt he wore was stained yellow with sweat. "Do I smell you making breakfast in here? What are you still doing here?!" the short man stood as if he were ten feet tall.

Ace crossed his arms, "Notice said we have till eight tonight. We'll be gone soon."

"All the other tenants managed to get out of here with enough time to spare!" the landlord continued to lecture. "I should have known you of all people would take your sweet time, and make this difficult for me!"

"Difficult for you?" Ace almost laughed. "Yo, the only reason why everyone rushed outta here so fast was because of you constantly harassing everyone about moving every day since you got that greedy check of yours when you sold the damn building-"

"You know I could have made that sixty-day notice a thirty-day one right? That's all the law requires. Now, I've been more than generous. You've had plenty of time to secure a new residence. So, I don't know if you and your kid are planning to squat here, but-"

"We ain't no squatters," Ace interrupted with a stern look. "We're leaving."

"Good," the landlord gave a fake smile, before he turned to leave, "And it better be before eight!" he added.

Ace watched his landlord walk to the elevator down the hall. His anger got the best of him and he shouted at the landlord before the doors to the elevator closed: "You know, Mrs. Jackson in twenty-nine is living in her car right now, Asshole!"

Ace closed the door to his apartment and returned to the kitchen. As he sat back down beside Sophia on the kitchen floor, his niece smiled at him innocently. His anger melted away, and he continued to enjoy his breakfast once more.

"Now remember, if Daddy asks you what we're doing today-"

"I know, we are going to the park to feed the ducks! NOT moving!" she answered with a big grin.

"That's right," Ace said with a proud smile.

"How come Daddy can't know we're moving, Nino?" the little girl tugged on her braided brown hair with her stubby little fingers.

Ace paused for a moment, contemplating his answer. He scratched the stubble on his chin, "Because... well, we want to surprise him with news of our brand new, big house! But, of course, we gotta find the right house first. Thennn we'll tell your daddy."

"OK!"

As Ace cleaned off their plates in the kitchen sink, he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his back pocket. He quickly wiped his hands dry using his shirt and answered his cell, placing it on speaker, "Hello?"

"You have a call from an inmate in Townsville Correctional. Do you accept the charges?"

"Yes," Ace answered, and then held the phone to his three-foot-tall niece.

"HIIIII, DADDYYYYY!" Sophia squealed into the phone with all her tiny might.

"Hey, Baby Girl!" Arturo's voice came through the cellular device. "How's my pretty girl doing this morning?"

"Good!" she bounced as she spoke. "How are you, Daddy?"

"I'm fine, mija," Arturo answered. "So tell me, what are your plans for today?"

Sophia held her hands over her mouth, stifling a small giggle, before she carefully told her well-rehearsed fib: "Um, we're going to the park today! And um, we are going to feed the ducks there!"

"Oh, that sounds like fun! Stay away from those geese though, mija."

Sophia giggled, "OK, Daddy." Sophia gave Ace a big, cheesy smile, as if to tell her uncle, "He believed me!"

"Summer is almost over, isn't it?" Arturo continued, "You're gonna start kindergarten soon! Man, I can't believe what a big girl you are now! You gotta be so excited!"

"Yeah!" the little girl waved her arms in the air with enthusiasm, "And-and guess what?!"

"What?!" Arturo played along.

"Nino got me a Scooby-Doo backpack to wear on my first day!"

"No way! Scooby Doo?!"

"Yeah way! It's blue, and it has Scooby Doo on it, and the zipper is a scooby snack!"

"No way!"

Sophia giggled, "Yeah way!"

"That sounds so cool, Baby Girl. You're gonna be the coolest niña en escuela."

"Thanks, Daddy," Sophia wore a big smile.

"OK, Sophia, I only have a minute left. Put your nino on the phone for me. Te quiero mucho, mija."

"I love you too, Daddy! BYYYEEE!" she screamed the last word into the phone before Ace took it off speaker, and placed it to his own ear.

"Ace, she's got everything she needs for school, right?"

"Yeah, Man. I got it handled."

"You've been practicing her Spanish with her, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ace answered, sounding less than confident.

"Ace-"

"Yeah, Man, we watch- what's that shit called- Uh, Dora! Yeah, we watch Dora on TV together. Plus, she gets along a lot with my band's drummer, Betty. Betty's always speakin' Spanish to her. She's you know, answering back mostly in English, but she gets it, Dude."

"For real, Ace," Arturo's voice was stern, "I don't want my nina getting hassled in school for being a guera. Remember how bad it was for you on your first day of school?"

"Man, those kids had a target on my back because I came in from the Bronx. Not 'cause my Spanish was shit. Besides, that was fifth graders. I don't think kindergarten is that brutal, Bro." Ace waived Sophia back to the phone, "Hey, Soph, tell your daddy somethin' nice in Spanish for him," he held the phone to the little girl.

Sophia shouted with joy: "Me gusta Scooby Doo!"

Ace chuckled at the wild five-year-old who started to wail her arms about as she danced. "See?" Ace said into the phone again, "She's a smart kid, Arturo. She'll be fine."

Ace could hear a sigh of relief on the other end. "Man... I can't believe I won't be there to see my niña off to school on her first big day..." Arturo's voice sounded muffled on the other end.

Ace's smile faded once he heard the sadness in Arturo's voice. "I know, Man," was all Ace could say in response.

It was silent on the other end. That silence told Ace he knew his boy's spirit was draining fast then. Ace placed a hand over the phone's microphone, and whispered to his goddaughter, "Hey, Soph, why don't you go and get your shoes on, mija?" "OK!" Sophia answered as she already ran excitedly out of the kitchen.

Ace continued to speak to Arturo as soon as Sophia was out of earshot. "Listen, Arturo-" he started again, but was immediately interrupted.

"Not today, Man," Arturo cut him off before he could finish. "I don't wanna go over it again. Besides we ain't got the time."

"Yeah..." Ace swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "Just, you know, if I could do it all over again-"

"Ace, Man-"

"For real," Ace was serious in getting his point through. Something told him that his friend had forgotten this, and maybe Arturo didn't have the time, or maybe he wasn't in the mood to go over what happened again. But Ace could hear it in his friend's voice. He needed to be reminded. "If I could do it all over again," Ace continued. "I swear. I would trade places. I swear, Man."

"Yo sé," Arturo answered quietly on the other end. "Thanks for taking care of Sophia," he continued. "It's time for me to go."

"OK, Man. Just... hang in there, OK?"

"Gracias, Man. I am. And I will. Talk to you and Sophia next week."

"'Course, Dude. Talk to you then."

Arturo's hands were bound by metal cuffs. He had to nod to the the armed prison guard, who held the landline telephone to Arturo's ear, to signal that the call was over. The military-equipped officer hung the phone on its receiver. Without speaking, he then escorted Arturo back to his cell, as was routine. Arturo's legs were also bound by chains, and it took several minutes to march down the halls of Townsville Correctional's Villains Ward. This was his routine every Sunday morning. As a lower level prisoner of the Villains Ward, Arturo was permitted one hour of recreation per day. Mondays were his mandated therapy sessions; hardly recreation in his opinion. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays were shower day, along with library time. Wednesdays he was allowed an hour of television. Sundays' hour of freedom always began with Sunday mass in the prison chapel, and ended with his five-minute phone call to his daughter. Of course, all of these activities took place under strict surveillance by an escort.

As Arturo was walked back to his cell, he was careful to follow the rules. Eyes forward, no speaking. Arturo knew better than to ever try to communicate with any of the other prisoners in the ward. No one in the Villains Ward was ever permitted to interact with one another, and Arturo would never risk losing his phone call privileges with his daughter. Even though he missed his friends Snake, Grubber and Billy terribly. Their recreation times were all different to guarantee their isolation. Also, the cell doors were made of thick, black metal, and there was no seeing in, nor seeing out. So, Arturo wasn't exactly sure who was behind the nine black doors which made up the Villains Ward, but he had some ideas as to who some of his neighbors were.

One, he knew for sure. The ninth cell at the end of the dark metal-paved hall was Mojo Jojo's. He happened to be there to see the notorious villain get wrestled into custody. It happened the same day Arturo was being transferred from general population to the brand new ward. The chimp fought like hell, and resisted his escorting officers until the very moment they slammed the door on him for good. If Arturo had known just what a sentence in the Villains Ward meant then, he would have fought back, too.

Himself, Snake, Grubber and Billy took up another four cells in the ward. Arturo could only guess who else was unlucky enough to call the Villains Ward "home." He knew of many criminals who crossed paths with the Powerpuff Girls back in the day, but not all of them had necessarily been called a "villain." Honestly, he was confused as to why his gang was singled out, but imagined it had to do with some corporate media bullshit. He remembered Sedusa- an evil seductress who caught the Powerpuff's bad side ever since she tried to con their father and creator. She had to be there. There was also that country-loving, pink beast who lived on the edge of Townsville, Fuzzy Lumpkins. Early into his new sentence, Arturo swore he could have heard hollering one day that sounded like him, so he figured he had to be there, too.

Arturo and the rest of the Grangreen Gang hadn't always been in the Villains Ward. Arturo's initial sentence of one to two years was being served in Townsville Correctional's general prison population. He wasn't thrilled about being behind bars, but he was confident that if he kept out of trouble, he'd be out in six months or less. He took the rap for his cousin Ace. Back then, the law was three strikes and you're locked up for life. Ace would have taken his third strike that day if it weren't for Arturo stepping in for him. Arturo had managed to keep his record clean once he learned he was about to be a father, so he had no priors according to his adult record. Clean since eighteen. Especially since his daughter's mother left the picture, he tried his best to keep out of the law's way. But when familia is in trouble- things change. "It was just a stolen pack of cigarettes and some street graffiti," Arturo thought at the time. He never anticipated the Villains Ward to ruin everything.

One month into his time served, Mayor Bellum signed the new law which sent Arturo, Billy, Grubber and Snake all to the Villains Ward upon its grand opening. That decree: "To ensure the everlasting security of Townsville, any criminal deemed a 'villain' will be sentenced to life without parole in Townsville Correctional's Villains Ward." It was that simple. If the newspapers or the evening news called you a "villain" because you managed to get caught up with the Powerpuff Girls more than a few times, then that was enough. You made the enemy list. It didn't matter what the crime was. Being labeled a "villain" meant you were locked up for life. End of story.

Arturo reached the door to his cell where a second armed guard waited for him. The second prison guard unlocked the door, and Arturo stepped over the threshold along with the first guard. It was a two-door system for every cell in the Villain's Ward. The second guard stepped inside and closed the first door behind him, locking it securely. The first guard then removed Arturo's chains and cuffs, while the second guard kept his rifle pointed at Arturo. This was procedure.

Once Arturo's hands and legs were unbound, he moved through the second door into his cell room. That door was then immediately locked behind him, followed by the second. The short, green man made his way to his bunk, and lay himself down. He closed his eyes and remembered the sound of Sophia's giggles on their phone call.

The Villains Ward itself was haunted by an eerie, never-ending silence. If someone had told him he was the only one left in that cold, dark place, he would believe it. He hadn't heard or seen any signs of life other than the prison guards for years now. It was like living in a tomb, Arturo felt. Only tombs were meant for the dead.

If it weren't for the promise of hearing his daughter's voice every Sunday, Arturo might have been dead from grief a long time ago. So he lay there, cherishing the warmth his daughter's voice gave him that morning. It was just enough fuel to get him through another week, until next Sunday's call.


Blossom was usually the first to awake in the Utonium household. So it was a surprise to her when she could hear the voices of her sister Bubbles and the Professor coming from downstairs as she shut off her 7 AM alarm. She sat up in bed and quickly slipped on her pink, fuzzy slippers she kept at the foot of her bed. As she descended the stairs, moving through the living room and into the kitchen, she untied her braided hair, and started to shake out her curls like she did every morning.

"Good morning," she greeted her dad and sister as she entered the kitchen.

Bubbles stood at the kitchen stove, already finished cooking, but getting four plates of breakfast ready for her family. "Morning, Blossom! You're just in time for french toast!"

Blossom took a plate of food that her sister handed her, "What are you two doing up so early?"

"Well," the Professor began as he took his plate from Bubbles next, "I was actually on my way to bed when your sister came down and found me."

Bubbles, Blossom and the Professor took their food into the dining room, adjacent to the kitchen. "He was up all night!" Bubbles said as she sat at the table. "And I could barely sleep, too," she confessed with a slight frown. "And so I thought I would come downstairs and make french toast. You know, since it's Buttercup's favorite. Maybe it will help her feel better."

Blossom frowned, "You guys were really that freaked out?" She picked at her food with her fork, feeling a wave of guilt suddenly spoil her appetite. Both Bubbles and the Professor lost sleep last night over their concerns for Buttercup, yet she managed to sleep normally. "I mean... I was freaked out too," she added. "But... you two didn't even see how her hands did that weird fire thing."

"Yeah, but hearing her scream like that!" Bubbles physically shivered remembering the sudden pierce of her sister's cries the night before. "I haven't heard a scream that painful since back when we had to fight bad guys. I thought 'Oh my God, Blossom really hurt her' or something!"

"I didn't do anything!" Blossom insisted.

"I never thought you'd do anything on purpose, Blossom. I know she usually starts the fights-"

"But, I swear," Blossom empathized 'swear' greatly, and looked her sister directly in the eyes as she spoke, "Nothing happened. At least not anything that I did. She just got madder and madder and then... It had to be just a freak accident or something!"

"I believe you, Sweetheart," the Professor gave his redheaded daughter an encouraging smile. "From what you say though, it seems like the event might have been triggered by your sister's emotions." Professor Utonium used a napkin to wipe some syrup from his mouth before he folded his hands, placed them on the table, and continued with a somewhat serious tone: "I want to talk to you both about that," he announced.

"What is it, Professor?" Bubbles asked from across the table. Blossom who sat to her right sat up in her chair, and they waited for the Professor to continue. Both sisters could tell a lecture was coming their way.

"I need you two to go easy on your sister for a while, do you understand?"

Bubbles and Blossom exchanged glances. Blossom spoke up, "No. What do you mean?"

"I think he means let's try not to make her angry," Bubbles said.

"That's right, Bubbles," the Professor said with a nod. "Whatever happened last night could very well happen again. We're lucky the situation seemed to resolve itself. However, we don't know what we're dealing with, and I don't want your sister to have to go through that pain again over a meaningless sibling quarrel."

"But, Professor," Blossom began to defend herself, "She's the one with a sour attitude all the time! She's the one whose always making fun of everyone and hating on literally everything and everyone around her! It's like she's just angry because, well, she chooses to be! She thinks it's cool or something, I don't know! And she's-"

"Blossom," the Professor interrupted, "For the first time last night in a very long time, I was scared. I was scared for one of my girls," he looked Blossom in the eyes as he spoke seriously.

Another wave of guilt washed over Blossom. She hung her head, and kept quiet as she listened to the Professor.

"Your sister's health is what is important here. I know she's been hard to deal with lately. And, trust me, I get that she's not the easiest to get along with, but you have to be the bigger person. I know you two are both quite stubborn, and very opinionated. But is an argument really worth hurting your sister?"

"No," Blossom answered with a frown.

"So be nice. Same for you, Bubbles," the Professor nodded at his blonde daughter.

"Hey don't look at me," Bubbles answered, "I made her french toast."

The Professor simply smiled at Bubbles before he rose to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment. He reappeared with the fourth plate of food, and handed it to Blossom, "Why don't you go and see if she's awake, Sweetie?" he smiled at Blossom. "Make up with her over last night, OK?"

Blossom returned a weak smile and took the plate from the Professor. She obeyed and slowly made her way to her sister Buttercup's room on the second floor.

"Knock, knock," Blossom announced as she tapped on her sister's shut door. To Blossom's surprise, Buttercup opened her door before she could finish knocking. "Oh. You are up," she said as she stepped inside her sister's room.

Buttercup slammed the door shut behind her tall sister. She returned to her bed where she had her headphones plugged into her laptop computer. She plopped down on the bed, crossing her legs, and placing one of her earbuds into her right ear. "Yeah, I'm up. I'm not hungry though," she nodded towards the plate of food in Blossom's hands.

Blossom sat the plate down anyways in front of Buttercup, covering her laptop's keyboard. "But Bubbles made it just for you. French Toast. Your faves."

"Ooh, my faves!" Buttercup mocked sarcastically. She picked up the plate and sat it to the side. "I told you. I'm not hungry."

Blossom could feel herself grow irritated. Not even a minute in her sister's room, and already she was under her skin. Still, Blossom tried to remember the Professor's advice: "Be the bigger person, Blossom," she repeated in her head. She sat down beside her sister on her bed. Buttercup gave her a suspicious look when she did this.

"I'm sorry about our fight last night," Blossom apologized. "I shouldn't have pushed you so far."

Buttercup blinked back at her. "What fight?"

Blossom frowned a little. "You really don't remember?"

Buttercup shook her head and shrugged. "I remember coming up here after we finished cake and presents. My request of chocolate cake was ignored yet another year, and the fact that I hate strawberries ignored also. Then, I guess I went to bed, or whatever."

Blossom stared at her for a moment before she continued, "How... are you feeling?"

"Fine," Buttercup removed her earbud from her ear, and stared back at Blossom. The two sisters held a staring contest for a full minute, before the green Puff snapped: "What the hell?! Why are you staring at me like that?!"

Blossom shook her head, "Buttercup, you totally freaked out last night."

"Yeah, right-"

"No, I'm serious," Blossom said. "You swear you're not pranking me right now?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No. What the hell?! I don't even know what the hell you're talkin' about, Red."

"Last night. We were arguing and you had, like, this crazy meltdown. Everyone was really scared!"

"Now you're pranking-"

"No, I'm not." Blossom wore a frown. "So. I'm sorry. Even if you don't remember," she sighed.

Buttercup watched Blossom for a while. She replayed what she remembered from the night before, but she truly had no memory of what Blossom was referring to. The whole notion that she lost an entire sequence of events made her feel uncomfortable. She shook off the feeling as best she could, and shrugged off her sister's concerns, "Look. I'm fine," she insisted.

Blossom smiled weakly. She stood from the bed and looked around her sibling's room. Buttercup's room was a cluttered mess, like usual. "Today is the first Sunday of the month," she began as she walked around the perimeter of Buttercup's room, starting to gather the various articles of clothing that were scattered across the floor.

"If this is you inviting me to your dumb volunteer work stuff again, I'm still not interested," Buttercup remained on her bed, and returned her attention to her laptop once more.

"It's not dumb," Blossom defended out of habit. She stopped and tossed the laundry she had gathered into a green, plastic laundry basket in the corner of the room. "The Townsville Food Bank always needs volunteers, Buttercup," she tried again with a smile. "Bubbles and I have a lot of fun when we go, and-" she zipped over to her sister, sitting beside her on the bed once more, and gave her sister a wide grin, "You also get a coupon for a free shake at Shake Shack if you volunteer!"

Buttercup only rolled her eyes in response.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" she gave Buttercup a playful poke on the arm.

"Doubt it."

Blossom sighed. "OK, fine. Suit yourself," she surrendered. "Just gonna stay up here listening to your music then?"

"That's the plan," Buttercup said, sticking her earbud back in her right ear.

Blossom could hear the loud noise coming from her sister's earbuds, as Buttercup raised the volume to its maximum. Before Buttercup could take her other earbud, Blossom took the left earpiece and placed it in her own ear. Her intentions were well. Maybe she could try bounding with her sibling through music? But Blossom wasn't prepared for what she would hear- distorted noise and clashing guitar chords, women screaming and men crying "Let me out of here! Let me out! Let me OUT!" and the sounds of people choking and dramatically gasping for air. Blossom couldn't help but immediately yank the device out from her ear, "Oh my God, what on Earth are you listening to?!"

Buttercup snorted as she laughed, "It's crazy, right?"

"Crazy is certainly one word for it," Blossom stared back in horror. "I would also call it disturbing, nightmare-inducing, sick, and-"

"You just don't get it," Buttercup laughed at her sister. "Chemical Warfare by the Dead Kennedys. It's a classic," she picked up the left earbud and placed it in her ear, turning her music volume up once more.

Blossom shook her head at her sister who started to bang her head aggressively to the music that blasted into her eardrums. "Is that the stuff you and Robin listen to together?"

Buttercup heard nothing, but saw her sister's lips move. "WHAT?" she shouted over her music.

Blossom rolled her eyes, and waited for Buttercup to remove one of her earbuds before she asked again: "Is that the type of music you and Robin listen to?"

Buttercup smirked a little. "Nah, they're too hardcore for her. She's into that pop-punk. Like Blondie. Still a cool band though, just you know, kinda girly."

Blossom breathed a sigh of relief. The idea that Robin could enjoy the noise she just heard was something that disturbed her perfect idea of her. She was glad to learn that was not the case. Blossom watched Buttercup take a piece of french toast and take a casual bite, as she fidgeted with her laptop on her lap. As she watched her sister, she couldn't help but think: "Could Robin really like her better than me?" Everything about Buttercup was rough. Her short, black hair stuck out in all different directions, still messy from her erratic sleeping habits. The way she obnoxiously chewed her food as she rocked her head to the beat of her barbaric music. Her sister was as thin as a board, boyish in every way, and her posture was always slouched and lazy. Buttercup was like that music blaring in her ears- loud and aggressive. But Robin? Robin was soft. Robin was kind. Robin was friendly, and could light up the room with her dimple-cheeked smile. What could a girl like Robin ever see in a girl like Buttercup? The insecurity that came from Robin's Ferris Wheel choice still haunted Blossom. She stared at her sister, questioning all these things, and she had to actively push away her pessimistic feelings once more.

Blossom's eyes fell on the door to her sister's closet. Buttercup's closet was made up of all boys' clothing, and primarily band t-shirts. The only piece of girl's clothing that hung in her closet was her green dress which was her super-hero uniform. "You know, I've been thinking about what you said yesterday about our uniforms."

"Oh, yeah?" Buttercup raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Blossom smiled at her. "It probably is best to retire them. I mean, we are thirteen now."

"Exactly! Oh my God! Finally, Leader-Girl is proposing something good for once!" Buttercup pumped her fist in the air in celebration.

"We'll just have to design new ones," Blossom added with matched excitement.

Buttercup lowered her fist, her own enthusiasm deflating, "Ugh. I can see where that's gonna go..."

"Don't worry," Blossom said with confidence, "Whatever we come up with, we will decide upon together!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Buttercup would only believe it when it happened.

"We just have to be sure to come to a unanimous decision before November."

"Why Novem- Oh shit, yeah, that stupid museum opening-"

"Not stupid, Buttercup," Blossom wagged her finger. "The city of Townsville is projected to receive over a million dollars in aid from the museum's profits." Blossom was referring to an on-going city-funded project in Townsville called "The Discovery Dome." It was to be a children's science museum, with a special exhibit on the Powerpuff Girls and their creation. "Maybe those funds will help with the increase of homelessness rates in the city. Did you know at the food bank, we package over one-hundred thousand boxes of-"

"Still not going to the food bank with you guys, Red," Buttercup interrupted, knowing exactly where the conversation was headed. Blossom's passive aggressive manipulation tactics were nothing new to her.

Blossom sighed. "OK, fine." She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from saying more, but the passion for the project was too much, "You know, as the Powerpuff Girls, we still hold a responsibility to help our community. It's important that we continue to protect the citizens in any way we can. That's why volunteering at the city's food bank is a great way to show the community that we are still here, and that us Powerpuffs are always ready to help, even in the smallest ways."

"That's great," Buttercup smiled sarcastically. "Thanks for representin'."

Blossom opened her mouth to say something, but stopped. She took a deep, slow breath, before she forced herself to smile, and say simply: "I'm gonna go."

Buttercup reclined against the pillow on her bed, and watched her sister leave her bedroom without another word. She waited until she heard her sister far enough down the hall to know that she wasn't returning. Buttercup stood from her bed and went to her laundry basket. She fished out the pair of jeans she had been wearing the day before and retrieved the business card Ace had given her.

The green-eyed teen returned to her laptop, and searched in the internet browser: "GGC."

"Green Garden Collective," Buttercup read the results out loud to herself. "A weed shop," Buttercup laughed a little. "I shoulda known." She followed the webpage's results to a website which advertised the punk show taking place that night in the marijuana dispensary. "Nine 'o clock," Buttercup thought, "Shouldn't be too hard to sneak out then."

She stood from her bed and made her way to her closet doors. She took just a few minutes to decide which band she wanted to represent for the day. Her mind debated for a while: "It definitely has to be something good if I'm goin' to my first punk show tonight. The Clash is the usual go-to, but Ace saw me in a Clash shirt yesterday... Yeah, something else then. Green Day? - Seems appropriate for a weed shop, but might be too mainstream. Patti Smith? - Yeah she's cool, but, maybe too sensitive? The Ramones? - Man, too many posers have this shirt now. Don't wanna look like one of them..."

Buttercup ultimately pulled out a baby-blue colored t-shirt with thick red writing across the chest: "ADOLESCENTS." She paired it with a pair of black skinny jeans, and tossed the outfit on her bed with a pair of dirty, worn, black converse sneakers. She admired her selection with a proud smile, "Perfect."


Professor Utonium climbed the steps from his basement laboratory. Those steps led into the Utonium household's kitchen. Normally, the tall open windows of their home's kitchen supplied all the light needed for the space, but like usual, he had lost track of time while working in his lab and the sun had set already. He stumbled in the dark to find the light switch, and turned it on. He paused for a moment, hearing the muffled sounds of loud music coming from upstairs, and knew that it was coming from Buttercup's room. She must have stayed home again while her sisters once again chose to occupy their summer outdoors. His cell phone buzzed briefly in his white lab coat's pocket.

Professor read the text message from Ms. Keane: "Sorry I'm running late! The traffic is terrible!"

He replied quickly with a message "That's OK," and returned the device to his coat pocket.

The Professor went to his silver coffee pot, removed it from its warmer, and refilled his coffee mug. This was his third cup. He had managed to sleep for about four or five hours earlier in the day, but was still relying on caffeine to get through the rest of the day. As he added his creamer and sugar to his coffee, he could hear the sounds of his daughters Bubbles and Blossom returning home.

He walked into the living room to greet them as they entered the house. "Hey, Girls. How does pizza sound for dinner tonight?" he asked as he took a sip from his coffee mug.

Blossom and Bubbles looked at one another and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds fine," Blossom said.

"You read my mind, Professor!" Bubbles smiled as she pulled her cell phone from her overalls pocket. "I'll order!"

"Well, be sure to order one extra," the Professor added. "I invited Ms. Keane over for dinner tonight."

"OK, sounds good! I'm gonna go ask Buttercup if she wants to split some cinnasticks with me!" Bubbles disappeared upstairs with a flash of blue light.

Blossom was walking casually halfway down the hall when she heard Professor mention their dinner guest. She stopped and turned to the Professor, "Really? What's the occasion?"

"Well, with just a few weeks left until the new school year, I thought Ms. Keane could come over and talk to you girls about your academic options."

"Oh that," Blossom remembered. "Yeah, I guess we would have to figure that out sooner than later, huh?" she smiled.

Bubbles zipped inside Buttercup's room, where she found her sitting cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom with a video game controller in hand. "Haven't you heard of knocking?" Buttercup muttered without taking her eyes off her monitor's screen.

Bubbles ignored her sister's sour mood, knowing that was just how Buttercup was. "Sorry. I heard your music on so I figured you were up." She plopped down beside her sister on the floor. "We're ordering pizza tonight for dinner. You want to go halfies with me on some cinnasticks?"

"Sure." Buttercup's game displayed a large "GAME OVER" on the screen. She tossed her game controller aside and pouted a little. She then felt sudden weight on her shoulder as her shorter sister leaned against her. While Buttercup was the type to have a strict personal bubble, Bubbles was the opposite. It was common practice for the blue Puff to hug, cling to, and sometimes smother both her sisters. Buttercup only tolerated Bubbles because she was her little sister. Anyone else who dared lean up on her like a piece of furniture would have had to answer to her fist.

Bubbles reclined against Buttercup's shoulder as she dialed the number for their local pizza shop. "Hi! Can I get three large pizzas? One veggie. One pepperoni. And one- Um, hold on, please," she paused and turned to her sister. "Ms. Keane's coming. What kind of pizza do you think she likes?"

Buttercup shrugged. "Just get another pepperoni. Who cares?"

"OK, hi again! Sorry, two pepperoni pizzas, please!" Bubbles said into the phone, reclining once more against Buttercup, "And one order of cinnasticks! And that's it!"

"What's Ms. Keane comin' over for?" Buttercup questioned as her sister finished her phone call.

"Does she need a reason?" Bubbles shrugged, "She's basically family."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "Ms. Keane usually visits for dinner when Professor has something to say that he can't say himself. Last time it was that gross 'we're becoming women' talk."

Bubbles laughed. "That was awkward." She picked up the game controller that Buttercup had tossed to the side, and started to navigate through her game system. She found her and Buttercup's favorite racing game, "Wanna play?" she challenged her sister with a devious smile.

Buttercup smirked and picked up her second controller, "You're on."


It was about eight at night when Ms. Keane arrived to the Utonium household. She knocked on the front door, and was greeted by the Professor. "Sorry, sorry," she apologized again as she entered the home with the Professor. "I went to go see my mother in Coast County. I thought if I left by six, it would give me plenty of time to get here."

The Professor chuckled a little, "Rush hour starts around four nowadays. Even on Sundays. Really, it's no problem."

The two entered the dining room where Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup all sat, waiting.

"Finally," Buttercup groaned. "Can we eat now?"

"Yes, let's dig in," the Professor smiled as he sat at the table.

All three teenagers immediately tore into the cardboard delivery boxes that sat at the center of the table, loading their plates with pizza slices.

"Sorry to make you wait, Girls," Ms. Keane apologized again as she took a slice of pepperoni pizza for herself.

"The pizza only just arrived fifteen minutes ago," Blossom said as she sat back down with her plate of veggie pizza. "Buttercup's just a little hangry." She smiled at her green eyed sister who already was consuming the last portion of her first slice of pepperoni pizza.

Buttercup spoke with her mouth full, "Excuse me? You were the one practically having an anxiety attack, thinking she was in some car wreck or somethin.'"

"I just know that it's unlike Ms. Keane to run late," Blossom said. "So I'm just relieved that she's here now, and safe."

Bubbles sat between her bickering siblings. Always the buffer between them, she spoke up to change the subject, "Thank you again, Ms. Keane, for my new paint brushes. They're so beautiful! I almost don't want to ruin them with paint!"

"You're welcome, Bubbles," Ms Keane smiled kindly.

"They'll be perfect for my art class next semester," Bubbles continued before she took a bite of her veggie pizza.

"Speaking of school," Blossom chimed in, eager to get to the news Ms. Keane was there to share, "Ms. Keane? The Professor said you had something to talk to us about."

Buttercup elbowed Bubbles in her arm, "Told ya."

Ms. Keane smiled at Blossom, and then looked to both Bubbles and Buttercup. "Yes, actually. Girls, I've gone over your school records, and your performances are outstanding. In fact, you should be proud to know that all three of your seventh grade standardized test scores were the highest in the district."

"Really?" Blossom couldn't help but wear a proud smile.

Ms. Keane nodded enthusiastically. "Blossom you were actually number one in both mathematics and science," she watched as Blossom lit up with joy. She then turned to Buttercup. "And Buttercup, you were number one in reading!" she beamed.

"She was?" Blossom blinked.

Buttercup glared in Blossom's direction, "Jeez, don't act so shocked. That test was too easy."

"Too easy," Professor Utonium repeated her words exactly, "Which is precisely why Ms. Keane suggested we should enroll you girls in high school next year, at the minimum."

"High school?" Bubbles tilted her head. "So you're saying we would go to Townsville High, and not Intermediate next month?"

"If it means we can get through school faster, I'm in," Buttercup reclined in her chair, finished with her food. Her eyes fell on the clock that hung on the wall: 8:32 PM. She was beginning to feel anxious, and wondered if she'd still be able to make the show that night.

"What do you mean by 'at minimum,' Professor?" Blossom questioned.

"Well," the Professor began, "I know it seems like a big leap, but when I shared your previous IQ score with Ms. Keane she insisted that I test all three of you girls again. And, well, frankly if you're too smart for high school, then we may have to consider-"

Blossom interrupted with a loud, excited gasp, "COLLEGE?!" she exclaimed, physically jumping from her chair.

The Professor chuckled in response, "Well, yes."

Blossom began to shake with anticipation and excitement, "Oh my goodness, Professor, you have no idea how great that would be!" she gasped, "I could earn my masters degree by 18!"

Ms. Keane also laughed, amused by the nerdy teenager's enthusiasm. "Well, I brought the tests with me for you girls to take. After dinner, we should get started-"

"How long is this test gonna take?" Buttercup interrupted with a frown.

"Oh, not long at all. Maybe twenty minutes or so-"

"Well, I'm done eating, so can I get mine over with now?" Buttercup sat up in her chair, and pushed her plate away from herself.

Ms. Keane smiled, "Well, if you would like to, of course." She reached into her book bag which she had hung from her dining chair. She retrieved a sheet of paper, and a number two pencil and handed them both to Buttercup.

The dark-haired teen sat down with the paper and pencil. She groaned a little and muttered something about test taking in summer, and got to work.

"Ms. Keane, can I take mine now, too?" Blossom asked with an eager smile. She took her test and a pencil from Ms. Keane and immediately began her own work.

Bubbles glanced from one sister to another and watched them quickly work through the questions. "Jeez, guys, it's not a race."

"Yeah, well, I'm tired and I wanna go to bed," Buttercup muttered as she paused on a question. She glanced over to Blossom, who, in turn, covered her answers with her hand. Buttercup rolled her eyes and filled in her own answer.

Bubbles finished her last bite of pizza. "I guess I'll take mine, too," she said with a shrug.

Professor Utonium began to clear the table as all three girls took their tests in the dining room. Ms. Keane stayed behind, and observed Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup work through their tests. She watched in awe as Blossom neared the final question at just fifteen minutes of testing. Buttercup was also, not far behind.

"Done!" Blossom slammed her pencil down and wore a proud grin.

"Again," Bubbles said with a laugh, "It wasn't a race, Sis," she teased.

No amount of teasing from either of her sisters could wipe the fixed smile from Blossom's face. She handed Ms. Keane her test sheet.

"Thank you, Blossom," Ms. Keane took the sheet of paper, and set it aside. She opened her book bag again and pulled out her laptop, and began to input Blossom's answers.

"How long will it take to know my score?" Blossom asked eagerly.

"Just a few minutes," Ms. Keane answered.

"I'm done," Buttercup announced as she stood from her seat. "Now, I'm going to bed," she said with an exaggerated yawn. "Good night."

"Don't you want to know how you did?" Blossom watched her sister as she floated upstairs.

"Tell me in the morning," she answered as she got to her bedroom door. "'Night!" she called out to everyone before she disappeared into her room.

As soon as Buttercup closed her bedroom door behind her, she wasted no time. With a flash of green light, she zipped to her closet to retrieve a black hooded sweatshirt. The skinny teen slipped it on over her blue Adolescents t-shirt. She raised the hood of her sweatshirt, and quickly pulled it over her head. She then shut off the light in her bedroom, and her dark attire became instantly blended with the night. The large circular window to Buttercup's room sat above her bed. She stood on her bed and opened the window's pane, and quietly slipped out, a fast-moving shadow in the night.

Not wanting to leave a trail of green light behind her for anyone to see, the super-powered teenager moved only at a moderate speed. As she flew, she hovered low and within close proximity to the rooftops of her residential neighborhood. Her shadowed figure went unnoticed, as she left the quiet suburbia behind her, and entered Downtown Townsville. It was just a twelve mile stretch between the Utonium household and the borders of Downtown, and even with her carefully measured speed, she easily arrived in less than ten-seconds time.

The heart of Townsville was made up by a crowded cityscape of mile-high skyscrapers, hundreds of brightly lit high-rise buildings, rows of colorful billboards, and blocks of industrial construction sites. It was the part of Townsville which never slept. The always busy, one-way streets of Downtown held a consistent line of cars at all hours of the day. At night the headlights of the steady parade of moving vehicles illuminated the streets like blazing strings of Christmas lights.

There was no way to go unnoticed as a flying teenager under the ever-beaming glow of Downtown, so as soon as Buttercup reached the lights of the city, she touched down onto the pavement. She still had to get through the density of Downtown to the other side though, so she didn't stop. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she continued to jog at a steady pace. It was a downhill path to get to the Townsville River Bridge which connected Downtown to the east side. For Buttercup, her pace was hardly a casual jog, but to passerby's, the teenager ran with the speed of an Olympic athlete.

As Buttercup ran, she felt her heart begin to race. At first, it was a strange feeling when she began to feel her adrenaline steadily climb. Running was an activity that didn't normally get her heart pumping like that, but as her green eyes focused on the bridge into East Downtown, it seemed as if her heart beat even faster.

She stopped at the bridge, and on the other side was her destination- the east side. She checked her cell phone for the time and saw that it was just six minutes past nine. Not bad timing at all, considering the circumstances. The skinny teenager returned her cell phone to her back pants pocket. She began to feel warm as she stood on the tall bridge above the river, so she pulled off her hoodie and tied the sweater around her waist. Before she could begin her jog again, she felt a fast, brushing sensation to her left, as a bicyclist rode past her. "Watch it, Kid!" the stranger shouted as he zipped down the steep arch of the city bridge.

Buttercup had a fleeting moment of panic, but it passed just as fast as the cyclist went. She watched the man on the bike speed down the bridge without taking a second glance at her. Another surge of adrenaline hit her then. She stood there for a moment touching her hand to her chest, and catching her breath. Why was she so out of breath anyway? Feeling somewhat winded, she opted for walking across the bridge to give herself a momentary break. She only had a a mile left to go. As she walked, she avoided eye contact with the citizens who also commuted along the bridge. She felt paranoid of being identified, but it wasn't long before the fear faded. Buttercup realized soon enough that nobody seemed to notice her at all.

Buttercup spotted a tall billboard to the right of the bridge which displayed an advertisement for the November grand opening of the Discovery Dome. Plastered across the giant advertisement was an image of herself and her two sisters. Of course, the photo was of them dressed in their traditional Powerpuff Girl attire. Buttercup thought back to that awful photo-shoot. Not only did she have to submit to being photographed in a dress for the entire world to see, but she was also forced to wear makeup, and have her wild raven hair tamed by hairspray. It was a nightmare of a day for the tomboy, and she had originally refused to look at the resulting photos from that shoot.

Buttercup stopped, and took a moment to really look at the billboard for the first time then. Bubbles was on the left of the billboard, smiling with a playful, girlish wink. Blossom stood in the center, and forefront, showing off her perfect, white smile. Buttercup's eyes reluctantly traveled to the right side of the billboard where her own image was.

As she stared at the green-eyed superhero painted on the billboard, she realized then why nobody recognized her. It didn't look anything like her. She knew the makeup and hair was one thing, but after the magic of filtered editing, the green Powerpuff on the billboard looked drastically different than her real self. She was naturally a very pale girl, but on the billboard she appeared to be at an even tan with her sisters. She remembered that day the photographer fussed about her not giving a big enough smile. Somehow, they managed to fake one anyway. In reality she possessed a slight under-bite to her smile, but on the billboard her teeth were as straight as her sisters' beside her. The billboard Buttercup's eyes looked huge, with enhanced long eyelashes, and her bright pupils shone an unnatural lime green, unlike the actual forest green they truly were. Like most young teens her age, her skin was hardly perfect. She was bound to have a few blemishes and pimples on any given day. However, the billboard version's skin was perfect. Her smile, perfect. Everything... perfect. It was like looking at a Barbie-doll interpretation of herself. The teen turned away from the image and shuttered as she continued her journey. The advertisement was worse than she could have ever imagined.

Even with her own twisted image brightly displayed in the sky behind her, the citizens of Townsville unknowingly traveled past Buttercup. At one point, she noticed a small child walk past, holding onto her father with one hand, and a soft plush-toy version of the green Powerpuff in her other hand. Curious if this obvious tiny fan would recognize her, Buttercup waved at the little girl, as she and her father passed. She only received a suspicious look from the dad as he pulled his daughter along to walk faster.

This caused Buttercup to grin, and her heart raced again once more. It dawned on her then, what she had been feeling. That sensation that caused her heart to pump- it was the thrill of adventure. She had grown so used to boredom, she had forgotten what the sensation was like. Still bearing a big grin, she gave into the growing excitement swelling within her, and began to run once more.

As she sped across the pavement of the bridge, and descended into East Downtown, her heart pumped, and her mind simultaneously raced with the endless possibilities of the night. Her family and Ms. Keane were all back home right then, and none of them knew what she was up to that night. If the Professor knew she was about to see a concert at a marijuana dispensary, he would lose his mind. If Blossom knew?- she, too, would flip her shit. Would she get caught? Would she get away with it? Did they already notice her missing? Even if they did, they wouldn't have the slightest clue as to where she was headed. She had done it. She had snuck out on her own, and she was about to experience her first rock show.

The teenager now began to bounce and skip as she sprinted across town, unable to control her wild excitement for the night she was about to have. She hadn't experienced a surge of energy like that since her crime-fighting days. Facing off in battle, not knowing what the outcome may be, and diving into the fight anyways. That was the thrill she had been missing, and as it returned to her in that moment, she felt absolutely victorious. A coyote-like howl echoed throughout the city as she loudly and unapologetically celebrated her ongoing conquest.


"One-sixty-one!" Blossom shouted as she read her results on the screen. She pumped her fist in the air in celebration, rising from the ground a little, as she continued to shout with excitement. "I got a one-sixty-one! One-hundred and sixty-one! Professor! Do you see it?!"

Professor Utonium blinked at the high IQ results on Ms. Keane's laptop screen. "I see it," he said, still in a little bit of shock as to how rapidly Blossom's genius had grown. He watched his thirteen-year-old child continue to bounce around the dining room with pure joy.

"This means I get to go to college, right, Professor?!" her pink eyes were wide with anticipation.

Professor Utonium smiled at Blossom, "Well, I suppose it would be hard for me to stop you at this point," he scratched his head.

"Don't act so surprised, Professor," Ms. Keane smiled as she began to enter Bubbles' results for her. "You already knew she was gifted."

"Yes, I'm not surprised," Professor smiled nervously, "But still..." he turned to Blossom again, "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, Sweetie."

Blossom's excitement was suddenly undercut by the Professor's serious tone of voice. "What do you mean, Professor?" she questioned.

"Well, college admissions take time, and I believe the deadline for Fall is way past-"

"Yeah, but can't they make an exception?!"

"Blossom, what's the rush?" the Professor asked. "There are a lot of things to consider here. If you skip high school altogether, then that means you're skipping out on, well, your whole high school experience! What about football games, school clubs, assemblies, or prom?"

"The Professor has a point," Ms. Keane added. "I want you to achieve your full potential Blossom, trust me. I completely agree that college is the right place for a mind as gifted as yours. But enrolling in high school for at least a year while you figure out your college path is not a bad idea. You won't have to rush deciding a major or which school you want to attend. It will also give you some time to enjoy your peers just a little while longer, and you can even enroll in Advance Placement courses at Townsville High in the mean time which would earn you some college credit."

Blossom quietly sat down at the dining table, feeling slightly defeated. "Well... I guess that would be OK," she muttered, sounding less than thrilled.

"Oh, Bubbles!" Ms. Keane clapped with a smile as she totaled the blue Puff's results, "You scored a one-hundred! That's very good, Sweetie."

"Does that mean I would have to go to college in a year, too?" Bubbles questioned.

Professor smiled at his baby-blue eyed daughter, "No, Sweetie. It means you'll do just fine in high school. Is that OK?"

Bubbles gave a small sigh of relief, "Yeah," she smiled. "I don't mind skipping a grade, but I really don't want to go to college yet," Bubbles confessed. "Isn't there like, ten times as much homework in college?"

Professor Utonium and Ms. Keane couldn't help but chuckle in response. Blossom still sat at the table, wearing a small frown. Somehow she felt cheated. When she saw her score, she had immediately convinced herself that she would be sitting in a grand lecture-hall a month from then. Now she had to re-imagine herself as sitting behind a simple grade-school desk, reviewing subjects she had already mastered on her free-time. She supposed it would be nice to participate in high school activities like school games and clubs, but didn't they have that on college campuses, too? As she reluctantly accepted the idea of having to wait another year to start college, her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Ms. Keane and Professor gasping loudly in unison.

Blossom looked up and saw both the Professor and Ms. Keane stare at her computer screen with shock. "Is that right?" Professor Utonium questioned with his jaw agape.

"One-sixty!" Ms. Keane breathed out loud with a surprised smile.

Blossom stood from her seat and met them on the other side of the dining table. She looked at the laptop monitor and read Buttercup's results for herself: 160.

"Well, that settles it!" Ms. Keane continued to beam, "This is incredible! Buttercup and Blossom can start researching colleges together! You two are going to accomplish great things!"

Blossom continued to stare at her sister's IQ score, just one point shy of her own, in complete disbelief. Going to college with Buttercup? Buttercup never gave a second thought to her education, and yet she would get the same opportunity as she? It sounded completely unfair. She gave Ms. Keane a small, forced smile, "Yeah. Sounds great."

Bubbles also came around the table to read the score. For Bubbles, knowing that her two sisters had surpassed her so easily was a strange feeling. Sure, she knew both her siblings to be extremely smart in their own ways. She wasn't offended by their higher scores, at all. However, it still stung knowing she would be seemingly left behind in a year's time. After all, it had always been the three of them. Not knowing what life would be like without them by her side every day was an intimidating thought. "Wow," she said with a weak smile of her own, "Congrats, Blossom."

"Isn't this wonderful, Professor?" Ms. Keane continued to radiate with positivity, "Something told me Buttercup wasn't being challenged, and there it is."

Professor Utonium was quiet as he allowed this new, astonishing fact to settle in his mind. He had always assumed Buttercup and Bubbles were the ones on equal footing. After all, the two of them always seemed to get on just a little better than Blossom and Buttercup ever managed to. It was definitely a surprise that this whole time, Buttercup was at the same level as Blossom. Sure, Buttercup had done well enough in school when it came to her testing, but she wasn't exactly the best of students. Professor Utonium had many a parent-teacher conference with Buttercup's teachers throughout the years. Truthfully more than he could count. The complaints were always the same- she failed to complete assignments, refused to pay attention during her lessons, fell asleep often in class, and regularly skipped homework assignments altogether.

"We should tell her the exciting news!" Ms. Keane continued. "I know she said she was going to bed, but this is something she would want to hear about, right?"

Professor Utonium watched for a moment as Ms. Keane began to walk towards the stairs which led to Buttercup's bedroom. He quickly followed after her, "Ms. Keane," he began as he walked beside her, ascending the staircase together, "I must confess... I don't know if Buttercup is ready for college."

Ms. Keane stopped in her tracks and faced Professor Utonium. "Professor, you can't allow just one of your genius children to advance and not the other," she pointed out sternly.

"Yes, but, Buttercup is not like Blossom," he said with a lowered voice, trying to shield the conversation from his daughters. "I don't know if she's emotionally ready for college, yet. Blossom has always behaved like a young adult, even very early on in life. I mean, that's why I appointed her to be leader of their superhero team. Blossom is more than ready for the pressures of college, I'm sure, but Buttercup... Well, she's still very much at the mercy of her childish habits to be frank."

"Professor, you have been wondering what is wrong with Buttercup lately, and don't you see that this is it?" the short, blue eyed woman continued to debate with the Professor. "You can't possibly want to hold her back!"

Professor sighed heavily. "Ms. Keane, I know your concerns, but you don't know Buttercup as well as I do." He paused before continuing, "There was an incident the night before, after you left."

Ms. Keane crossed her arms, but remained open, "What happened?" she questioned.

"Honestly, I'm still trying to figure it out, exactly. But her powers malfunctioned somehow- it completely drained her of all her energy. Truthfully, the whole thing scared me so bad I even spent the night in the lab, using some of the last reserves of Chemical X to create an emergency dose of Antidote X, just in case-"

"Antidote X?!" Ms. Keane's blue eyes grew wide with concern.

"Nothing full strength," the Professor added quickly. "Just enough to calm her powers temporarily if it were to happen again." He sighed deeply once more, "Ms. Keane, I need her to stay here at home where I can keep a careful eye on her."

Ms. Keane was quiet for a moment. She could see that the Professor wore a grave expression on his face, and it was enough to raise her own concerns. "You are her father, so of course you know what's best for her," she began, "But I really feel like this would be something good for Buttercup," she still insisted. "Let's just talk to her, and see how she feels. You don't have to make promises of college. We can just discuss her options with her, and take it one step at a time, hm?" she gave Professor Utonium an encouraging smile.

Professor Utonium slowly nodded. "OK," he quietly agreed. "Yes, let's talk to her then."

The two reached the door to Buttercup's bedroom. Professor Utonium knocked on the door, but got no answer. Ms. Keane then tried, but also received no answer. Professor Utonium slowly turned the door handle, opened the door, and switched on the light, revealing an empty room. The two stepped inside, looked around, and came to the same realization together. Their eyes fell on the open window to Buttercup's bedroom, and they knew that she had gone.


The Green Garden Collective was located on the corner of Esperanza Street. The business was sandwiched between a liquor store, and a coffee shop. Its windows were tinted black, and there was no way to tell just what sort of business it was. Like most dispensaries in the city, it tried to blend in with its surroundings. There were no flashy advertisements, and the only signage was a piece of paper taped to the front door which read: "USE BACK DOOR." The front door itself was blocked by metal bars, and secured wit a heavy padlock chained around the doorknob.

Buttercup walked through the narrow alleyway that lead to the back entrance of the GGC. The brick walls of the alley way held a brightly painted mural of a green-skinned woman holding a bouquet of roses. She had red tear drops that fell from her brown eyes and stained the white colored roses. There was a small collection of candles at the base of the mural, which provided the only light in the dark alley. As Buttercup rounded the corner, her heart's tempo began to sync with the low, steady sound of a booming bass she could hear coming from inside the building. She took a deep breath as she reached for the door handle, and stepped inside.

Once inside, it was a narrow hallway which led to another doorway. It was dimly lit inside. A neon green light that hung over the second entrance illuminated the hallway. The entrance was guarded by a skinny, middle-aged woman with a clipboard. Her hair was a platinum blonde, but the neon light above her made it shine a bright green. "New or returning?" she asked as she watched Buttercup walk towards her.

Buttercup blinked back at the woman with a confused look.

"New," she answered for her as she circled something on the clipboard, "Well, if you're over 21," she paused to look the obvious young teen up and down, "Then I need some ID," she sighed. "If not, I need to see a doctor's rec."

"Oh," Buttercup shifted nervously, "You mean for weed. No, I'm just here for the show-"

"Look, Kid. The cops are begging for reasons to shut down shops like this. If you're not bright enough to figure out how to get a fake ID at least, then I can't help you. No ID, no rec? No exceptions."

"Really," Buttercup shook her head. "I just came for the show. Ace invited me yesterday at the fair, and he said that-"

"Ohhhhh," the woman interupted her. "You're Buttercup!" She looked over Buttercup once more and shook her head as she laughed, "My bad. Yeah, Ace said you might drop by. Didn't know it was you though. We get a lot of teens trying to sneak in here and cause trouble. Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look wayyyy different on TV?" she asked as she tucked her clipboard under her arm and reached for the door handle behind her.

Buttercup stood back as the woman opened the door for her. As soon as the heavy metal door cracked open, the sound of the ongoing concert became defeaning. Buttercup's eyes fell on a small room, packed with at least a hundred people inside.

Buttercup saw the woman at the door's lips move, but she couldn't hear what she was saying over the music that played. She moved closer, and the woman placed a green smiley face sticker on Buttercup's left hand. "IT'S FREE DAB NIGHT ON CONCERT NIGHTS!" she screamed over the blazing guitar solo that rang loudly from the other room. "JUST SHOW JANET YOUR STICKER!"

"THANKS," Buttercup shouted over the music as she moved inside the room. The door closed behind her, and she stood there in wonder, as she surveyed her foreign surroundings.

The concert goers moved in sync with the rhythms of the loud, blaring music, and bounced off one-another as they danced. It seemed like the calmer dancers crowded beside a long counter that sat at the opposite end of the room. The more aggressive dancers formed a mosh pit in the center of the room. They crowded around a makeshift stage of stacked wooden pellets where the three-piece band performed. A shirtless skinny man stood on top of one of the large speakers that surrounded the stage and leapt from it onto the crowd of people below. The people caught the flying man, and carried him across the room. Behind the stage, hung several neon strobe lights which flashed in time with the music. The bright multi-colored stage lights shone over the heads of the concert goers, and illuminated the thick clouds of marijuana smoke that accumulated in the tiny room.

Buttercup stayed away from the crowd as she watched the show for a while. She leaned up against the wall, opposite the concert stage. The wall vibrated from the power of the giant speakers, and Buttercup felt her heart pound again with the music. Ace was on stage with his band. He was playing a black bass, and stood on the left side of the stage. He wasn't nearly as animated as his band-mates, and bobbed his head in a more mellow fashion. Calm and cool was always Ace's style, even as he played a fast paced rhythm on his bass. His fingers moved like crazy to keep up with the wild guitarist to his right. The band's singer and guitarist looked like a young guy, probably not much older than a teenager himself. The boy's head shook violently in time with the music that ripped from his guitar, and the sweat that dripped from his dark brown hair splashed onto the audience before him. The drummer was a girl, who had half her head shaved, and the other half dyed a bright, blood orange with black vertical stripes. She banged so hard on her drum set, as the band finished their current track, her drumstick split. She chucked it into the audience and pulled a new stick from behind her, not missing a single beat. A man caught the drumstick, and the crowd erupted in loud cheering.

The guitarist let his last distorted note ring out as the audience continued to rally around the band. "Alright, listen up!" The guitarist gripped the microphone at the center of the stage. "Next song we're playing is for our man, Ace," he motioned towards Ace on his left, and the crowd cheered some more. "Let's lynch the landlord!" the singer screamed into the microphone as the drummer struck her sticks together, and counted: 1-2-3-4!

The noise was full blast yet again, and the people began to dance once more. Buttercup still reclined against the wall as they began their next track. As they played the first few chords, her eyes grew wide with excitement as she realized she knew the song.

"The Landlord's here to visit!
They're blasting disco down below!
Says, 'I'm doubling the rent!
'Cause the building's condemned!
You're gonna help me buy City Hall!'
But we can!
You know we can!
But we can, you know we can!
Let's lynch the landlord man!"

Buttercup's grin was wide as she watched the lively crowd lose themselves to the music. She began to bob her head to the music, but still stayed to herself. That was until she felt a slap on the wall's surface above her head. A tall woman stood beside her. Her eyeglasses were fogged with sweat, "HEY!" She shouted at Buttercup, "NO WALLFLOWERS IN THE GARDEN!" She slapped the wall above Buttercup's head again, causing Buttercup to look up at the painted lettering in bold red above her: "NO WALLFLOWERS IN THE GARDEN."

Buttercup looked to the girl again who grinned big at her, rocking her head to the music, "COME ON! IT'S A PUNK SHOW, MAN!" she shouted as she disappeared straight into the mosh pit that had formed in the center of the room again.

That was more than enough to peel the teen from the safety of the wall. She fearlessly dove into the crowd, mixing herself among the sea of sweaty, pot-stenched bodies. The teen ricocheted off one body to the next, allowing herself to get pummeled by the wild dancers on the floor. The contact was hardly a match for her natural strength. Still, as she bounced off the strangers, her adrenaline rose higher. She banged her head to the beat and bounced wildly up and down, still knocking into the people all around her. She began to scream and chant along with the crowd around her as they all sang along:

"Let's lynch the landlord!
Let's lynch the landlord!
Let's lynch the landlord man!"


Bubbles gripped her pencil gently as she focused on her latest sketch. She sat on her bed, with her sketch pad, and tried her best to pretend that Blossom's pacing back in forth in her bedroom was not distracting her. She had truthfully stopped listening to her redheaded sister's rantings an hour ago. She was repeating herself at that point, after all.

"I just can't believe she's still not back!" Blossom ranted, "It's past ten thirty now! She knows our curfew is nine! Where would she even go?! It's not like she has any friends! Oh my God, the Professor is going to lose it when she gets home! And I don't blame him! How could she just say she was going to bed and sneak out like that?! With Ms. Keane here and everything!" Blossom paced back and forth, but suddenly stopped. She turned to Bubbles, "We should go looking for her," she proposed for the third time that night.

Bubbles sighed deeply as she closed her sketch book and set down her pencil. "Professor told us not to, remember?"

"Yes, but that was over an hour ago! I'm gonna ask him-"

Bubbles shot up from her bed, and in a flash of blue light she was at the door to her bedroom, blocking Blossom's path. "Nope!" she shouted. "He's worried, and frustrated, and angry enough already, Blossom," Bubbles frowned. "Besides, if we do find her, you're gonna blow up on her, and then she's gonna blow up, and then-"

"I will not blow up on her!" Blossom crossed her arms, "But I will calmly tell her how her actions-"

"Blossom!" Bubbles shouted in a high pitched voice, as she grabbed her sister by the shoulders and shook her, "We can't make her angry, OK?! That is why Professor asked us to stay in our rooms, and let him handle it! Now, can we please just drop it?"

Blossom stayed quiet, but she tapped her foot impatiently as her eyes fell on the alarm clock on Bubbles' nightstand: 10:40 PM.

"But where did she go, Bubbles?" Blossom frowned as she watched her short sister return to her bed and resume her sketching.

Bubbles sighed again. "Probably to a movie or something," she shrugged.

"By herself?"

"She does it all the time."

Blossom stared for a moment at Bubbles whose focus was on her drawing again. "She does?"

"Yep," Bubbles said as she reached for her eraser. She rubbed the fat, pink, rubber block against her paper, and gently blew off the bits of eraser from the sheet. "You don't like horror. I definitely don't like horror," Bubbles shuttered a little reminiscing of the time Buttercup tricked her into watching The Exorcist when they were eleven. "So, when a new horror movie comes out, she goes alone."

Blossom floated over to her sister's bed, and sat down beside her. "I didn't know that," she confessed quietly. For a moment, Blossom felt pity for her green-eyed sibling. But as soon as her eyes fell on the clock again, she was reminded of the time, and was back to her original point, "But did she have to go so late?!"

"She says horror movies are meant to be seen in the dark," Bubbles answered as she sketched.

Blossom stared at Bubbles with her mouth agape, "You mean she's snuck out to see a movie past curfew before?"

Bubbles didn't answer. She gave a small shrug, and left it at that.

"Bubbles!"

"What?"

"Why didn't you say anything if you knew Buttercup had a habit of breaking curfew?! You could have at least told the Professor about it!"

Bubbles closed her sketchpad again and looked at Blossom, "I'm not a snitch!" she crossed her arms. "I'm a great secret keeper!" she said proudly, "I keep your secrets, don't I?"

Blossom was quiet. She stood from her sister's bed, and subconsciously started her pacing once more.

Bubbles watched Blossom float from one end of her room to the other. "Look, Blossom, I'm worried, too. Especially after last night. It's OK to be worried, but she'll be home soon, I'm sure."

Blossom stopped and looked at Bubbles. Bubbles scooted on her bed, making more room for her sister and patted the spot beside her. Blossom sighed and returned to the bed. She sat down beside her sister, and hugged her knees against herself. Bubbles wrapped her arms around her as she pulled her big sister close. Blossom closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of her sister's embrace, breathing deeply, trying her best to calm her rising anxiety.

"It's not that," Blossom confessed with her eyes still closed.

"Then what is it?"

Blossom buried her face in her hands, and muttered something that Bubbles couldn't understand.

"What?" Bubbles asked.

Blossom sighed big, and threw up her hands in defeat: "I don't want to have to go to college with Buttercup! There, I said it!"

Bubbles blinked back at Blossom for a moment. "Why not?"

"Because of stuff exactly like this! Can you imagine the responsibility I'm going to have to assume if we go to school together? I mean, whose going to have to make sure she's going to class? Me! Whose going to have to keep her out of trouble? Me! Whose going to have to-"

"Blossom," Bubbles interrupted softly, "You're her sister, not her mother."

"I didn't say that I was!"

"Yeah, well, you kinda sound like it," Bubbles smiled weakly. "No offense."

Blossom frowned. "You know, I just want her to do better. Is that such a bad thing?"

Bubbles shook her head, "No, it's not bad. Buttercup's always getting in trouble, I know, but nobody said you have to feel responsible for her actions. If you guys go to school together, Buttercup will do her thing, and you just focus on you."

Blossom gave Bubbles a small smile. She wrapped her arms around her sister and hugged her tightly. "Love you, Sis."

"Love you, too."


"OK, OK!" the band's singer shouted into the microphone as he moved across the stage. "Night's almost through and I know you crazy mother fuckers are getting tired out there!" he pointed at the crowd before him. "It's time to slow this shit down a little!" He returned his mic to its stand and raised his guitar once more.

The audience erupted in mix of cheers and boos.

"Hey, not that slow, alright?! I said a little! You all know us!" He shouted at the audience, flipping the bird. The audience roared with approval. "So... let's GET READYYYY!"

The mosh pit that Buttercup had spent the entirety of the night in began to break apart. Buttercup remained where she was at the foot of the stage, as she watched Ace begin to slap a steady, funky bass line. The drums and guitar soon followed, and they began to play a reggae sounding tune. Buttercup watched as the concert goers began to sway and rock to the steady rhythm. She noticed most of the people passed around hand-rolled paper joints, including the singer on the stage.

The singer took a deep drag from his marijuana cigarette, and blew an impressively large cloud of smoke into the air. He passed the joint to Ace, who took an equally big hit, before passing the joint off to an audience member that sat at the foot of the stage, as if they had been there waiting for it.

As Buttercup listened to the band play while the clouds of marijuana smoke continued to build around her, she realized her head was starting to spin. She had noticed it earlier, but she thought it was because of the motion of the mosh pit. But as she stood still, she swore she could feel the Earth rotating. Her eyes drifted upward to the smoke that danced through the bright stage lights above her. She watched in awe of the slow-drifting smoke, illuminated by a rainbow of colors, as the singer began to sing once more:

"Some folks say that smoking herb is a crime,
If they catch you smokin' they're bound to drop the dime,
Insufferable informa crazy fools,
Wait with their fingers crossed for you to break the rules,
And in the evening, we try to jam,
We like the music loud in this here band!
We let the bass line drop as loud as we can stand!
Somebody always gotta turn informa for the man!"

The singer jabbed his finger in Buttercup's direction, as he continued:

"I wanna know know right now! Is there one of you in the crowd?
Are you gonna call 911?
And spoil all of my fun?!"

Buttercup felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked and saw a man to her left holding a joint for her to take. She took it and placed it to her lips, and sucked. The burning green flower's smoke filled her lungs, and the hazy feeling she had began to notice, pulled her in deeper. It was smoother than she anticipated, and it tasted like citrus which also surprised her. She passed the burning cigarette off to the next person on her right as she exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. She watched her own puff of haze mingle with the rest of the clouds that swirled in the lights. Her eyes then fell back on the singer who seemed to nod at her in approval as he sang once more:

"You cuh-raaaay-zyyyy fool!"

As Buttercup swayed to the music, she felt herself start to laugh, although she wasn't sure why. It was probably due to the fact that she was realizing that for the first time in her life, she was high. She also realized that she hadn't noticed until then, and couldn't quite figure out when it exactly happened. She had listened to a lot of music that talked about the effects of cannabis, but she'd never had the opportunity to try it before then. She laughed again, as she thought: "This is what the big fuss was about?" She wasn't sure what it would be like, but she had been warned by adults all her life to "Just say no." They made it sound like a potentially scary experience, but what she felt wasn't. It was soothing, and invigorating all at once. Her senses, already superior to that of a normal human's, somehow felt even sharper. The music that filled her ears had a brand new crispness and realness she could not define. The building euphoria wrapped around her like a security blanket, and nothing could penetrate it. Her body felt loose and natural- all tension completely gone and entirely forgotten. She was completely and utterly in the moment as the music swelled within her, and the new tranquil feeling continued to relax her.

"I'm in the mood,
Get ready,
I'm in the mood,
Come on now, yeah I'm in the mood,
Are you ready?
I'm in the mood Come on now, yeah Come on..."

Buttercup danced with the rest of the concert goers. She laughed again to herself, and still didn't know why, but she also did not care. Her feet were still planted on the ground, but in that moment, she felt like she was soaring, free. The music began to ramp up again:

"Load up the bong, crank up the song!
Let the informa' call 9-1-1!
Load up the bong, crank up the song!
Let the informa call 9-1-1!
And when security police force want to arrive,
Don't try to run, don't try to hide!
Just pull out the nine, pop in the clip, and let one slip...
Into these cuh-raay-zy fools!"

The crowd began to bounce aggressively once more as the music blared louder and louder. Buttercup danced with them, and was completely surrendered to her euphoria. She laughed, and sang as she danced, as if the people around her had been friends of hers for years. As she bounced up and down in unison with the group around her, she realized that she felt her cellphone buzzing in her back pocket. She pulled the phone out, and saw a newly missed call from the Professor. "Oh shit..." she breathed as she unlocked her phone to find that she had seven missed calls from the Professor.

"What's up?!" questioned a stranger Buttercup had just been dancing next to.

"The Professor called me like seven times! He's probably soooo pissed!"

"Man, fuck your teacher! You're not in class right now! The fuck is his problem?!" the man laughed.

Buttercup snorted as she laughed with him, completely amused by the stranger's confusion. Still, she was beginning to feel a little paranoid as she wondered about the repercussions she might have to face when she came home. She was caught, already, so punishment was only a matter of time. She returned her phone to her back pocket and tried to push the negativity from her mind. She was feeling so good, and she didn't want it to end just yet. Her eyes spotted another joint being passed through the crowd. She took it and took another hit. This time, she held the smoke in her lungs until it was forced out by an uncontrollable cough. She focused on the music once more, and swayed to the beat as the song came to an end.

The crowd cheered and clapped, but was soon cut short by the sudden brightness of beaming fluorescent lighting that blinded them all out of nowhere. Everyone winced in unison from the unexpected shock to their senses.

Ace had flipped the light switch on the wall behind the stage. He held a mic in his hands as he announced: "Alright, that's all folks! Eleven PM! You know the drill! OUT!"

Some boos and whistles, but ultimately the crowd obeyed. They began to march towards the doorway, and take their leave. Buttercup stood there, watching everyone disappear, one by one. She glanced down at her hand and saw the smiley face sticker she had received on her way in, "Aw, I didn't get my free dab," she said out loud to herself.

Ace stepped from the stage and met Buttercup on the floor. He laughed a little as he lowered his sunglasses and watched the teen stare at her sticker with a disappointed frown. "Don't think you need it, Kid," he said as he approached her. He held his hand out for a high-five and Buttercup took it.

"What exactly is a dab anyway?" Buttercup questioned.

"Yeahhh," Ace laughed again, "You definitely don't need it." He studied the teenager's face, "Your eyes are glossy and red as hell, Dude." He gave her a pat on the back, "Wait here."

Buttercup stood there and watched as Ace disappeared behind the counter in the room. Now that the room was properly lit, Buttercup could see the counter's display clearly now. The shelves were filled with jars of cannabis, in all different shades of green.

"Man, that show was so good!" Buttercup grinned big as she walked over to the counter.

"Thanks! Hey did you like Green Riot?"

"Dude, it was awesome!" she laughed. "But man, when you played Dead Kennedys I lost it! I was just listening to that album earlier today!"

"Glad you had a good time, Kid!"

Buttercup knelt down a little to observe the jars behind the glass counter a little more closely. "Do you grow this stuff yourself?" she asked Ace who fished through a cabinet on the other side.

Ace retrieved the small blue bottle he had been looking for, "Sure do," he said as he turned around to face her. He pointed to a doorway on his right, "That's the grow room in there," he said.

Buttercup stood straight again. Her eyes fell on another door behind the counter, "What's that room?" she asked as she pointed at it.

"Ah, that was my office. Now, my apartment. Temporarily, speakin' of course."

"Dude, you live in there?"

Ace just smiled as he slid the tiny blue bottle of Visine eye drops across the counter. "Here. This will help you not look so obviously stoned when you get home to your folks tonight."

Buttercup took the bottle, and quickly applied a drop to each of her eyes. She blinked several times as she handed the bottle back to Ace, "Thanks, Dude."

"No problem," he answered.

"Hey, Ace, I'm locking up out here!" shouted a voice from across the room. It was the girl with the clipboard.

"Thanks, Patricia! See ya tomorrow!"

"'Night!" she shouted as she closed the door behind her.

"Nino?" a tiny voice squeaked from the room behind Ace.

Buttercup's eyes widened as she noticed the tiny five-year-old in the doorway. The little girl rubbed her eyes sleepily as Ace walked towards her.

"Hey, Soph, whatcha need, mija?" he asked as he knelt down before her.

"Can I have some water?"

"'Course," Ace said as he stood. He began to walk across the room into another door on the left.

Buttercup stood awkwardly as the tiny child stared at her. "What's your name?" the little girl asked her, tilting her head with curiousity.

"Uh, Buttercup," Buttercup answered simply.

"That's a weird name," Sophia giggled.

Buttercup couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah, it is, huh?"

Ace returned with a glass of water for the little girl. "I'll be done out here in a bit, Soph," he told her as she took the glass from him. He planted a small kiss on the youngster's forehead and gently pushed her through the door way, shutting the door behind her.

Ace turned back around and faced Buttercup. "Yo, if anyone official asks, we ain't livin' here. Got it?"

Buttercup nodded. "Got it, Dude." She paused, "Uh, who was that?"

"My niece," Ace answered as he walked over to the same room again, "Arturo's kid, actually," he added as he reappeared with two cans of Coca-Cola. He offered one to Buttercup, and she took it. Ace walked back over the the pallet stage and sat down at the edge. He cracked open his can of soda and took a sip, "Figured you might have cotton mouth, too?"

Buttercup nodded from behind her can of soda as she gulped down the syrupy liquid, "Finally know why they call it that now," she laughed. She joined Ace at the edge of the stage and sat beside him. "So are you like babysitting your niece?" Buttercup continued to question.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I mean, since she was two, at least."

"Where's Arturo?" Buttercup asked as she sipped from her can of soda again.

"Villains Ward," Ace answered simply as he took his own swig of coke.

Buttercup swallowed and felt her stomach sink at the same time. She turned slightly red with embarrassment, "Sorry... I... dunno how I forgot." She gripped her red can of soda in her hands nervously, "Shit, I'm sorry." She shook her head as the distant memories of her fights with the Gangreen Gang began to resurface.

"Don't worry about it, Kid," Ace said. "It's all in the past, now." He hadn't looked at the girl since the awkward conversation began, but when he looked at her then, he noticed tears beginning to swell in the teen's green eyes. "Yo. You OK, Cuppo?"

Buttercup didn't feel herself crying until it was already happening. She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes before they could fall. "Shit, sorry. I don't know why I'm feeling emotional all of a sudden," she forced herself to laugh.

"Eh, it happens," Ace shrugged. "First time I got high, I cried for twenty minutes about my dead goldfish. Thing died years ago, but still missed the little guy, I guess," Ace laughed a little and gave Buttercup a reassuring pat on the back. "Weed makes you let your guard down like that. Makes you honest. Sometimes you don't realize how dishonest you've been to yourself till you blaze up, and get to really thinkin' about shit."

Buttercup nodded, "I guess I just never thought about it till now," she confessed. "Like, it's crazy, right? They used to call us to come in and beat you guys up. I honestly don't even remember most of the shit you guys did. We'd just get the call, and hunt down whoever the mayor needed stopped. Like... that was fucked up."

"You're telling me."

"Seriously," Buttercup continued to speak as her mind raced, "I used to think that shit was fun! I mean, at the time it was! I mean, I loved it! It was awesome! I looked forward to that stupid hotline ringing, and I didn't care who the target was. I just wanted to get to the action! And, Dude, the feeling was amazing! Like, you're five, right? And all these monsters and bad guys immediately look at you when you show up like 'What the hell are you gonna do to me?' and then you get to beat the shit out of them! And be like 'That's what, Sucker!' Man, feeling the bones crack as I sucker-punched you, or Billy, or Arturo or-"

"OK, OK," Ace waved his hand, "You started off sentimental, but now you're getting a little too excited about this shit." Ace couldn't help but laugh, still.

"Sorry," Buttercup also laughed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... I miss you guys."

Ace smiled, "Yeah, you too, Kid."

Buttercup smiled before she took the last swig of her can of soda. "I better get going," she said as she hopped off the stage. "Professor's been blowing up my phone all night."

"Good luck, Soldier," Ace gave the teenager a salute.

Buttercup laughed and returned his salute. Ace laughed and stepped down from where he sat. "Hold up, lemme give you somethin' real quick." He jogged back to the counter and pulled something from a drawer, and returned to Buttercup. She held out her hand and Ace placed a joint in her palm. "A peace offering between old enemies. Some instant happy medicine. You know, for the next time you're stranded at the fair with your sisters, huh?"

Buttercup laughed, "Was it that obvious I wasn't too happy then?"

"Kid, you looked like you wanted to shoot yourself when Blossom turned up with that other girl," he joked.

"Man, you have no idea." Buttercup laughed as she slid the joint into her pants pocket. "Thanks, Man."

"See ya, Kid."

"See ya."


A/N: Songs mentioned in this chapter. All lyrics credit to these two CA punk bands.

Chemical Warfare - Dead Kennedys (specifically around the 2:30 mark is where Blossom listens if you're curious)

Let's Lynch the Landlord - Dead Kennedys

Get Ready - Sublime

Thanks again for reading!