Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot:

Jam, Part 3

By Jill Weber

The characters are owned by Darkhorse Entertainment and Sony Pictures and are used without permission or intent to make a profit.

Everything went grey, but Hunter didn't actually pass out this time. After a few minutes, he raised his head and tried to jump start some brain cells. *Did I crash?* *Help, I've fallen and I can't get down?* *Wait, that's help, I've fallen and I can't get up!*

There was a hissing and sparking from overhead, like a scratched record on a bad stereo. Then voices came through.

"SLATE!" Thorton's bellow sounded pained.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Garth said, leaping to Slate's defense.

*Stupid time to feel jealous, Dwayne* *Jealous? Is that what I am?* *Idiot, that's what you are.* *Ow, shut up.*

"Worked!? We're trying to get rid of the thing, not start breeding them!" Thorton bellowed. "What the devil are we going to with two of them?"

*Two what? Idiots?* Hunter thought as his wits began to coalesce. He forced himself upright and automatically began going through preflight.

Fortunately, he was so familiar with the preflight sequence that he didn't need to have any operating brain cells to remember which switches to flick. Some of the darkened lights came back on… mostly in red, of course.

"Get him out of there, son! NOW!" Thorton barked.

*Huh? Me? Get me out? Who get me out?* Hunter thought fuzzily as he finished the preflight sequence. There were so many red lights on his board he wasn't certain that he could actually get airborne.

Rebooting the backups brought more green lights on. Then Big Guy leaped into the air. *But, I didn't start the engines!* Hunter was miffed until his brain cells started to come online and he realized that Rusty must have grabbed him. He flicked on the outer sensors, but only got audio.

"Big Guy?" Rusty asked anxiously. "Can you hear me?"

"Rusty?" Hunter replied.

He didn't get any feed back from Big Guy's vocal output and Rusty didn't sound reassured.

"Big Guy? PLEASE answer me."

"Dwayne?" Garth said in Hunter's ears.

"I'm here," Hunter replied to Garth with only half his attention. Concerned for the boy's human emotion grid, Hunter hastily rerouted power from the useless visual circuits to the vocal circuits. "Rusty?" he tried again.

Rusty heaved sigh. "Big Guy! I was worried about you!"

"Thanks, Son, I appreciate your concern."

"Are you all right?" Rusty asked.

Hunter eyed his 'red light district' and scowled. "No," Big Guy admitted. "I have some massive systems failures."

"That's an understatement," Jo muttered. "That board looks worse…"

"Than your burrito," Mack finished for her.

Jo just snorted. "At least my burrito is green."

Hunter ignored the byplay as he checked his surroundings. He lifted his visor and felt a breeze from somewhere overhead.

Hunter looked up, even though that made his head hurt even more. "I can't see, all of my weapons are offline, not just the ones that got ripped off, plus I have some hull breaches," he reported, as much to his Pit Crew as to Rusty.

He couldn't see out, so it was unlikely that Rusty could see in, which was a relief. Hunter wasn't sure how the discovery might affect Rusty's emotion grid, and he didn't want to find out. Something dripped on his shoulder and he closed his visor to keep the thing from dripping into his eyes. *Blob in my eyes. Now that's a gross thought.*

"Can you fly?" Rusty asked.

Hunter held his breath as he tried the Big Guy's back up controls. Several lights on his board went to amber and some even went green. Hunter could feel the jets kick in. "I think so," Big Guy said. "Let's see if I can get any altitude."

Hunter cautiously moved his collective control lever forward and was rewarded by the gentle pressure he associated with going up in an elevator.

"I'm going to let go now," Rusty warned.

"Ready, Sport." After a few minutes, it became apparent that Big Guy was not going to fall.

"Whew!" said Rusty. "Let's not do that again!"

"Good advice," Big Guy said ruefully. "I'll try to follow it. What's the damage look like?"

"Well, your eyes are all cracked," Rusty reported. "And your arms are gone."

"Gone…" Dwayne said blankly. He gave himself a shake in an effort to wake up a few more brain cells. "That's going to make it hard for me to fight."

"No matter," Thorton sounded relieved as well as satisfied. "Now that we don't have to worry about frying your systems, we can just blast the first blob with Donovan's toy. Then we can take care of the other one."

Dwayne had his doubts, but didn't voice them. Then something the general said woke up a few more of his brain cells. "Second one?" he asked.

"The blob divided into two blobs," Slate said disgustedly. "So much for my bright idea."

"Hey, it got me out of there," Big Guy said. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Doc. Where are they?"

"One went back the way it came," Thorton said. "The other started back towards the area with the evacuees. We slowed it down some by putting up barricades and hosing the street down with beef broth."

"Apparently the beef broth distracts it without giving it enough energy to reproduce," Slate said, still disgruntled.

"Whatever," Thorton said. "In any case, it's not going to work for long. Either it'll eat enough to make another split or it'll give up on the flavored pavement and move on."

"Hey, Big Guy," Rusty broke in excitedly. "I got an idea!"

Big Guy said. "Shoot, Sport!"

"Why don't I patch my optic sensors to yours?"

"Why not?" Big Guy said. Dwayne cocked his head. "Guys? Any reason why not?"

"None that I can think of," Garth said. "Jo, Mack?"

"Sounds good to me," Jo said thoughtfully. "Hang on, Kid, I'll transmit a diagram of the proper connections."

*How about a drink of water and some aspirin to go with that?* Hunter wondered, but of course, he said nothing. There was nothing his crew could do for him, anyway. No point in making them feel worse than they already did.

"Got it," Rusty said. He perched on Big Guy's shoulder like an oversized parrot. "I need you to open your head," he said. Then he giggled at the strangeness of his words.

Big Guy let out an exaggerated sigh. "I knew you only loved me for my mind," he said as he raised the lid that normally brought his forehead laser into play.

Rusty howled with laughter. When he calmed down, he pulled a connector cable from his head and connected to Big Guy's AI according to Jo's schema. (Big Guy's AI had proved insufficient for operating the Big Guy by itself, but it was still better than most computers. It operated many of the automatic functions, like balance and locomotion, and it processed the sensory inputs.)

Not that Rusty knew any of this. All he knew was that when his optical output was connected to Big Guy's optical input, then Big Guy should be able to see. "There, how's that?" he asked eagerly.

Hunter made a few adjustments. "Much better," Big Guy said in satisfaction as Thorton's modified tank rumbled into view. "We should have a good view of the fireworks."

They hovered in companionable silence for a few moments, and then both spoke at once. "From higher up!"

Big Guy moved to a discreet height. As they watched, Hunter irritably plucked some gunk off his sleeve, threw it on the floor and stomped on in. He'd have loved to have stomped on the blob, but even Big Guy didn't have a big enough foot. *Not that it would do any good, anyway,* Hunter thought wistfully.

Rusty could see Thorton's grin clearly, even at this altitude. "Um, maybe we should go a little higher?" he suggested.

Big Guy gained a little more altitude. *Thorton is enjoying himself way too much,* Hunter thought. He set Big Guy on autopilot (another function handled by the AI) and braced himself for the worst.

Thorton rattled off the coordinates and ended with: "And this time don't fire until…"

The weapon fired with a crackle of displaced air and an intense indigo flare that made Hunter jerk his hand up to protect his eyes and smack his wrist on his visor.

"For the luvva Mike!" Big Guy complained.

"Hey! That almost burned out MY optical sensors!" Rusty complained.

When the spots stopped dancing, Hunter checked out his situation. His screens were blank again. "Great, now both of us are flying blind," Hunter mumbled.

"You okay, Kid?" was what Big Guy asked anxiously

"Sure, no pain receptors, remember?" Rusty said happily. "Just give me a few milliseconds." Rusty's diagnostic and repair function was reestablishing the picture even as the boy robot spoke.

Thorton's tank was beating a retreat.

"Looks like he just made it mad!" Rusty said.

"Looks like we should help," Big Guy replied, dropping down with the controlled speed of a freight elevator.

Rusty fired a stream of green nucleo-protons at the blob, hurting Hunter's eyes again. The recoil knocked the boy robot off Big Guy's shoulder and jerked out the connection.

Calculating his height, Hunter pulled at the collective to bring his descent to a halt… only to be beaten to the punch by the ground. The abrupt landing jarred Hunter's already aching head and made him bite his lip again. "For the luvva Mike," Big Guy sighed. "I'm having a bad day!"

"Big Guy," called Rusty in distress. "Take off! You're right next to the blob and it's moving your way!"

Big Guy launched for the sky. "Blobby, you are not my type!" Hunter grumbled. "Where are you, Son?"

"I'm stuck in the wall," Rusty said irately. Rusty directed him to a rendezvous point. The boy robot's instructions were clear and wonderfully precise, but Hunter was sweating bullets by the time he managed to maneuver the Big Guy to the spot where Rusty was stuck.

Without hands, Big Guy couldn't grab his partner, but Rusty could grab Big Guy's shoulder. Then, a few gentle nudges from the cyclic control, Hunter pulled Rusty out of the wall.

"Thanks!" Rusty said.

"Sweet!" Garth said in appreciation of Hunter's piloting skills. The other two members of the Pit Crew applauded.

"Good job, boys," Thorton said. Then he continued in an irritated tone. "I don't understand what happened! Scanners indicated that we did damage with the last shot!"

Thorton was hopping mad and Hunter couldn't blame him. "On top of that, Donovan's cheap toy fires as soon as the coordinates are loaded!"

Slate grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like: "I told him so."

Hunter resisted the urge to shake his head. Instead he put Big Guy back on autopilot, rested his elbows on his console and leaned his head against his fists. He really wanted to take his helmet off, but he really didn't want to get covered with carnivorous goo, either.

*Thorton's a good general, but he really needs to take Donovan's claim with a pinch of salt. No, a LARGE block of…* "Salt?" he blurted.

"Come again?" Jo said.

"For the love of Mary," Slate said in disgust. "Why didn't I think of that."

Garth let out a whistle. "I don't think we tried salt on that thing."

"Maybe it'll dry it up like a giant snail," Mack said. "I told you we needed to try peanut butter. That has plenty of salt in it."

Everybody pointedly ignored that remark. Jo even went so far as to say she was pointedly ignoring his remark.

"Salt is worth a try," Slate said, interrupting Jo and Mack's argument. "I just can't understand why I didn't think of it sooner."

"Don't feel too bad, Dr. Slate," Rusty said consolingly. "Big Guy's been fighting monsters since forever, right, Big Guy?"

"Feels like it," Big Guy said. Privately, Hunter added. "Besides, Slate, this idea might not work, either."

"There!" Rusty said with satisfaction. "How's that?"

Lifting his head, Hunter saw that his view screen was online again. "Good work, Son," Big Guy said.

"You sound awful," Rusty said.

"Getting low on power, here, Sport," Big Guy said.

"You up to salting down the enemy?" Thorton asked.

"He doesn't have any hands!" Rusty reported. "His arms got ripped off when the blob split in two and went different directions."

"In that case, this is a Rusty solo job," Thorton decided. "Rusty, you get Big Guy back to the Darkhorse. Dr. Slate, you rig up some sort of spray gun for the boy while I rustle up some salt."

"Yes, sir!" Rusty said happily, bouncing up and down on Big Guy's shoulder.

"I'm on it," Slate said with quiet determination.

"Thanks," Dwayne said.

***

With Rusty's Guidance, Hunter flew back to the USS Darkhorse with no difficulty. They found Dr. Slate and Garth waiting for them with a large tank for Rusty.

"We thought we could do more good from here than from my office," Slate explained. She gestured to the tank. "This was originally intended for sand blasting. It should work with salt, too."

"Good thinking," Big Guy said. He stomped across the repair bay and dropped into his oversized chair with an 'oomph' that caused Rusty to laugh.

"What?" Big Guy boomed.

"You sounded like Dr. Donovan at the end of a long meeting with the investors," Rusty explained. He disengaged his optical sensors from Big Guy's, leaving Hunter in the dark again.

"Oh," Big Guy. *Wonderful, I'm acting like Donovan.* Hunter thought.

Slate and Garth had just finished adjusting the salt blaster when Jo and Mack arrived in the Osprey V.T.O.L known as 'Big Bird.'

"Where's Lt. Dwayne?" Rusty asked.

"He's sick," Mack drawled. "We hadda take him to the doctor's. Thorton's orders."

*Swell* Hunter thought. *Just what I needed. Another hospital stay.* And of course he'd have to go. Couldn't risk Rusty finding out that he hadn't been in the hospital.

"You'd better get going, Kid," Garth said. "Gen. Thorton is waiting to load your salt shaker."

"Okeey, dokeey!" Rusty said happily. "I'm on my way. Tell Lt. Dwayne that I hope he's feeling better soon!" And, with a jaunty salute that neither Big Guy nor Dwayne could see, the boy robot shot out the repair pit as only a hyperactive boy robot on a mission could.

As soon as the Pit Crew had the pit sealed up, Hunter yanked on the lever that operated the Big Guy's rear hatch. Nothing happened. Although he knew he shouldn't even be surprised, Hunter pounded on his armrest and swore vehemently.

"For the luvva Mike," said Big Guy. (Yeah, the AI handles, um, translating, too.)

"Language, Lieutenant," chided Jo laughingly. "There's a lady onboard."

Hunter felt his cheeks heating up, even though nobody could see him. "Sorry, Doc," he said.

"Under the circumstances, I can't blame you," Slate said. "Besides, I'm always interested in expanding my vocabulary."

"Won't be useful to you in a scientific report," Mack said as the three mechanics and the roboticist studied the much abused Big Guy.

"Might be useful in talking to Donovan," Jo pointed out.

"Or at least about Donovan," Slate agreed.

"So now that Rusty's out of the way, now what?" Garth asked, bringing them back to business.

"So now you rig me up some eyes so I can at least watch the kid save the day," Hunter said. "Doc, would you please figure out some way to get me out of here?"

"I'm working on it," Slate said.

"Dwayne?" Garth asked. "Shouldn't we get to work on prying you out?"

Hunter made an exasperated sound. "I asked Dr. Slate politely, because she is a civilian," he growled.

The Pit Crew was silent for several minutes. "You were right, Garth," Jo said. "He's getting all sarcastic."

"You really like pushups that much?" Hunter growled.

"We're on it, Lieutenant," Mack responded.

"Getting you some eyes," Jo added hastily. "I'll do those pushups later."

It didn't take them long to rig up a camera for Big Guy. The effect was rather strange, like some futuristic cyclops.

"Guess he's 'Big Eye,' now," Mack cracked.

There was no response from inside.

"Dwayne?" Garth asked worriedly.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, still here," Dwayne said tiredly. "See if you can rig up an arm, too. I may need it if the salt thing doesn't work."

"You plan on going back out there?" Mack asked incredulously.

"If I need to," Hunter said.

"Let's hope you don't," Garth said. "Here's the kid."

They adjusted their screens so Hunter could see. Rusty was approaching the first blob, the one nearest the evacuees.

"That tank's bigger than he is," Mack commented.

"The better to salt you with," Slate answered. Since Mack and Jo hadn't heard the explanation before, she added: "It's actually a modified sand blaster."

"Cool, a salt blaster," Jo said. "Make me a smaller version of it for dinner!"

"Think of the food fights," Mack agreed enthusiastically.

"Fill it with pepper and you could use it in a real fight," Garth commented thoughtfully.

"Big Guy and Rusty salt and pepper shakers!" Jo said. "We could make a mint!"

"Don't you ever think of anything but food?" Hunter asked. "Now hush up," he added before Jo could protest that wasn't the kind of mint she had in mind.

Rusty sprayed salt at the gel with considerable glee, not to mention sound effects. "NOW FEEL THE WRATH OF MY SUPER-DUPER BLOBBO GEL ATOMIZER!" Rusty howled. "BReeEEEP! CH-ZAP! SHZAM!"

"Beats just shaking salt on it," Garth commented.

"I blame this on you, Lieutenant," Slate joked.

"Me?" Hunter protested. "What did I do?"

"Does the phrase 'candygram' mean anything to you?" Slate asked dryly. "More to the point, does it mean the same thing to you as it does the rest of the world?"

"How about your terrorist lowlife super mag popper?" Jo added.

"Two words, 'glory stomp,'" Mack contributed.

*I have GOT to get out of this shell more,* Hunter thought. "Okay, you come up with better names, I'll use 'em."

There were no takers.

"Hey, it's working!" crowed Rusty. "It's running away!" After a few moments of herding, Rusty's delight began to diminish. "Well, it's crawling away." fifteen minutes later. "It doesn't seem to be dying or anything," he complained. "It just keeps crawling away."

"It may take a while for the salt to do its work," Slate said.

"Oh," Rusty said in disappointed tones. He much preferred fast and flashy results.

"Well, at least that give us a way to control the blobby thing," Garth said. "Blobby things," he amended as he remembered the second blob.

"Fine, since I can't get out of here, I might as well join the party," Hunter said. "Rig me up a couple of salt blasters, guys, I'm steppin' out."

"Do you think that's wise?" Slate asked.

"No," Hunter said shortly. "Now get to work."

"So much for asking the doctor nicely," Slate sighed.

"That *is* nicely, for a lieutenant," Jo informed her.

***

There was nothing for Dwayne to do. He'd fixed or rerouted or bypassed as many of Big Guy's systems as he could. On one screen could see the Pit Crew trying to rig up a salt blaster for him and Dr. Slate hunched over a diagnostics machine as she analyzed some scraps of blob.

On another screen, he could see Rusty chasing the blob with his salt blaster. With half an ear, he listened to Gen. Thorton ordering up some road salting machines from the mountains.

*Figures,* Hunter thought in disgust. *I finally get a chance to watch T.V., and there's nothing on.*

He willed himself to relax and ignore his headache and his rumbling stomach. He was actually dozing off when Jo shrieked.

Dwayne sat up with a jerk. "What? Jo?" he blurted through Big Guy's voice.

He could see Jo staggering back, cursing and slapping at her arm. Garth was bolting towards her and Mack was rushing to the food area.

Slate was disentangling herself from her folding chair, which had somehow collapsed and ensnared her lab coat.

Dwayne had Big Guy on his feet, but Garth waved him back. Helpless, Dwayne could only bite his abused lip with worry for his friend.

"GET IT OFF!" Jo howled. She plowed into a cart laden with tools and food. Arms flailing in a vain attempt to regain her balance, Jo landed with a crash of falling metal and another spate of foul language.

"JO!" Garth cried as he flung himself by her side.

"Don't yell, I'm not deaf," Jo snapped peevishly.

Mack came up with a salt shaker. "Here," he said. "See if this helps."

Garth helped Jo sit. She was now covered with grease and parts of everybody's lunch. She held out her arm, irritably brushing off Mack's peanut butter and raisin sandwich.

"Ewww," Jo said. "I don't know which is worse, the blob or your lunch, Mack." She looked over at the spilled food. "Guess I won't eat that burrito after all."

"Very funny," Mack grumbled as poured salt on the patch of blob that had caused the commotion. "You owe me lunch," he said.

"What happened?" Slate asked as she arrived, somewhat disheveled from her battle with the collapsing chair.

"I was stripping what wires remained in Big Guy's arm when something stung me," Jo said. "At first, I thought I'd hit a live wire, then I saw…" She peeled off the blob patch and shook it. "This thing."

She paused for a few moments. "I guess it startled me."

"Startled you?" Mack griped. "You haven't howled like that since the time the lieutenant painted your Harley Davidson Pepto-Bismol pink."

"Yeah, well… WHAT?!" she shrieked again. "Dwayne did that?" She glared at Big Guy. "And you let me blame it on Mack 'n' Garth?!"

*Ah, back to the 'Dwayne = Toast' equation,* Hunter thought with some amusement. "Are you injured?" he asked, changing the subject. "Is that thing dead?"

Jo looked at the limp bit of gel in her hand. "Doc?"

Retrieving a pair of pliers from the tools scattered on the floor, Slate grasped the gel, pushed her glasses firmly on her nose and studied the gel. "Looks dead to me," she said calmly. "I'll double check."

Meanwhile, Garth was inspecting Jo's arm.

"I'm okay," she protested. "It's just bruised where I banged it against the tool chest." She nodded towards the cart that she had tripped over. She did not, however, pull free from Garth's hold.

"It's starting to blister," Garth contradicted. "YOU are going to sick bay. NOW."

Slate placed the blob under a microscope and examined it. She ran a few more tests before declaring: "It's really most sincerely dead." She pulled off her glasses and wiped her forehead with her sleeve. "Good thing the salt killed it," she added.

"Yeah," Jo said in subdued and un-Jo-like tones as Garth and Mack helped her to her feet. "Thanks, Mack." Looking towards Big Guy she added. "Thanks, Dwayne. I appreciate your cleverness." Then she frowned. "If not your taste in color."

Hunter didn't answer immediately. He was busy kicking himself for not seeing the answer sooner. He leaned over and pulled his legs up. As he suspected, there was a splat of dead blob under his feet. "Not so clever," he murmured. "And it wasn't the salt."

"What?" Mack demanded.

"Don't tell me it was the peanut butter," Jo said darkly. "I'm not prepared to hear Mack crow for the next three day."

Hunter laughed. "Don't worry, it wasn't the peanut butter, either. It all adds up. Why Donovan's toy didn't work on the blob when the first shot did. How Jo killed the blob before Mack salted it and how we're going to end this. Now." Hunter sounded tired to his own ears. But he was feeling satisfied, too.

"Doc, you walk Jo to the infirmary. Guys, I want you to make sure there are no more baby blobs in the Pit. I'm going out."

"But you don't have your salt blaster!" Mack protested.

"Won't need it," Hunter said. He switched to Big Guy's communication line. "Son, I have a plan. See if you can herd the blobs to the alley where we first fought it."

"OK," Rusty said. "Then what are we going to do?"

"We're going to introduce them to the gravity of the situation," Big Guy said.

The Pit Crew and Slate exchanged puzzled looks at the cryptic remark. Dwayne just grinned.

***

It was relatively easy to get the first blob into the alley. It was already headed there. All Thorton had to do was dump a large pile of salt in the thing's path to keep it from going past the alley.

Rusty had a trickier time herding. He'd just gotten his blob moving in the right direction when his salt blaster ran out of ammo. "Aw, shucky-darn, now what do I do?" he asked.

"See if you can get it to follow you," Big Guy advised.

Rusty, remembering how the blob had gone after Gen. Thorton's tank, landed and blasted a stream of nucleo-protons at it. When he picked himself up, he noticed happily that the blob was moving after him. He turned and ran. Staying on the ground, he moved fast enough to elude capture, but so fast as not to lose it.

Rusty arrived in the alley a few minutes after Big Guy, and a few minutes ahead of his blob. He leaped into the air to avoid the blob that Thorton had driven there.

"What gives?" Thorton demanded.

"Sir, analysis indicated that there was a dead area in the original blob. That wasn't caused by Donovan's toy, it was caused by me hitting it… very hard. Jo just killed a smaller version by smacking it against a metal cart."

Big Guy scanned the area. It had been evacuated a long time ago. "Son, see that tilted building?"

"Oh, the one I smashed into earlier?" Rusty asked.

"That's the one," Big Guy said. "Shoot out its foundation." He moved to the opposite side of the building.

Rusty grinned and fired. Big Guy put his back to the building and pushed. The elderly building keeled over, almost gracefully, and SMASHED into the ground, shaking up seismographs all over the state.

The two robots studied the site through the swirling dust. There was no sign of either blob.

"Looks like we got both of them," Big Guy said.

"You think they're dead?" Rusty asked.

"I hope so," Big Guy replied. "It's past my shut down time."

Rusty looked up in surprise, since it was only late afternoon. Then he remembered that Big Guy needed more down time than he did.

"Nice work, boys," Thorton laughed. "Got to remember that sometimes the simple solution is the best one."

"Yes, sir," Hunter said, too tired to come up with a pithy comeback.

"Son, I want you to maintain surveillance on the site to make sure that thing doesn't sneak away. Big Guy, you're to report back to the Darkhorse for repairs."

"Yes, sir!" Rusty said with enthusiasm.

"Yes, sir," Hunter said tiredly.

***

As he headed back for the aircraft carrier, Hunter radioed the Pit. "How's Jo?" he asked.

"She's fine," Jo answered. "The blisters aren't anything to worry about. The fall did more damage than the blob did. How are you doing?"

"I'll be fine once I get my aching bones out of here," Hunter replied. "Any progress?"

"Yes," Slate reported. "I believe I have the answer."

"Go on, Doc, I'm all ears," Hunter said as he maneuvered Big Guy to a landing.

"It's an alkaline substance with a complex molecule. One end of the molecule is what's called 'hydrophilic' while the other end is 'hydrophobic.'

"You mean it has rabies?" Mack demanded.

"No, no, I mean, well, the term literally means that the end is water fearing. In chemistry, that means that the end will attach itself to any molecule that isn't water."

"So the hydrophilic end…?" Garth prompted.

"Being 'water-loving,' the hydrophilic end will attach itself to water. When the water moves, it carries the attached alkaline with it."

"And the alkaline, being attached to blob molecules, carries the blob with it?" Jo asked. "In other words, the blob will dissolve in water."

"Essentially, yes," Slate asserted.

"So, what is this wonder stuff?" Mack asked. "Where do we get it?"

Dwayne had to laugh. "Mack, it's called 'soap.'"

There was only one thing to say to that and Mack said it. "For the luvva Mike."

The End.