All major characters belong to Daniel Handler and Pixar, not me.
Book the 8th, The Horrible Hospital
There is a famous newspaper in New York that has the motto, "All the news that's fit to print." This is a praiseworthy aim, though impossible practically speaking. With the limited number of pages a newspaper produces each day, all the news that's fit to print won't fit in print. But there is also a not-so-famous newspaper printed in the town of Municiberg where I live, called "The Daily Punctuation," and it doesn't begin to live up to such a motto. Instead, it prints all the rumors, lies, and accusations against innocent people that will fit in print.
For example, take the case of the unfortunate Parr children. All three were good, intelligent children who possessed super-powers. Violet, the oldest at 14, could turn invisible and project purple-tinged force-fields. Dash, the middle child at 10, could run at super-speed and had extremely fast reflexes. Jack-Jack, who was still an infant, could morph into anything he touched and had recently manifested powers of levitation, teleportation, and walking through walls when he was under the inspiration of classical music, especially Mozart.
These three children were now on the run from the law as a direct result of a story printed in the "Daily Punctuation" that accused them of being supervillains. The children had just been reunited with their parents, Bob (Mr. Incredible) and Helen (Elastigirl) Parr, who had been lost at sea after being kidnapped by the evil Count Buddy (also known as the supervillain Syndrome). Nevertheless, their lives continued to be most unfortunate and sad, so the reader may decide that these stories are unfit to print, or at least unfit to read, and seek more cheerful stories about ponies instead.
The family was standing together on the Brainy Beach, where the children had found their parents washed ashore. The children had just escaped from the village of V.F.D. (Villainous Fowl Devotees), which was actually an internment camp for supervillains. They and their friends the Rydingder Triplets had gotten away in a tunneling machine operated by Hector, a reformed supervillain whose nom de crime had been Bomb Voyage. Now the Rydingers and Hector were on their way to join up with the real V.F.D., an underground supers organization. The Parrs had decided to go into hiding until they could clear their names.
"Our next problem is clothes," Helen Parr said. "You children have those grubby work overalls, but your father and I only have these bright-red super costumes. We can't go around looking like this when we're trying to hide from the law."
Violet fished into a large pocket of her overalls and brought out a rumpled pinstriped suit. "Esmé Sansweet bought suits for us because she said pinstripes were in. Mine was way too big for me but I kept it just in case. Maybe you could wear it?"
"It's a little small for me, but I can stretch into it," Helen said. She pulled the suit on and redistributed her mass. She looked a little heavy or possibly pregnant when she squashed down to fit into it, but it worked.
"What about me?" asked Bob Parr.
"Fitting you is going to be a problem," said Helen.
"Hey, I'm not fat. I've been working out," said Bob. He pulled in his stomach.
"I know you have, dear, but you're still a big man," said Helen. "Violet, Dash, and I will go look for something for you. You stay with Jack-Jack and hide if anyone comes."
Mr. Incredible grumbled but agreed. Helen, Dash, and Violet started walking along the sidewalk near the beach, checking out the storefronts.
"Last Chance General Store," said Dash, reading a sign. "We Have Everything, And Everything Must Go."
The store did indeed seem to have everything. There were buckets, stepladders, xylophones, refrigerators, and bongo drums on the front porch. Signs on the windows advertised myriads of other items inside.
"We'll try here," Helen said.
"Do you have any money?" Violet asked.
"No," said Helen, "We'll have to take things now and pay them back later."
The children's mouths dropped open in surprise.
"I'll distract the clerk while you check out the aisles at super-speed," Helen told Dash. "Try to find clothes large enough to fit your father and hide them outside."
"But you always said shoplifting was wrong," Violet protested.
"I know what I said. Listen to what I'm saying now," said Helen sternly. "We're in a tough spot and we have to be more flexible."
"Easy for you to say," muttered Dash.
As they entered the store, the proprietor called out, "Is that you with the morning paper, Lou?" The man walked out from behind the counter of the cluttered store and came to meet them. He was a short, elderly man with a bushy mustache, wearing several shirts and hats at once, all with price tags on them. He was carrying a plate of fresh blueberry muffins.
Violet recognized him as one of the two elderly gentlemen who had witnessed their downtown battle with Syndrome's killer robot, the Omnidroid. He had commented that it was just like the good old days. Fortunately, he didn't seem to recognize the children without their costumes and masks.
"Sorry, I thought you were Lou," the man said. "I'm expecting this morning's 'Daily Punctuation'. There's supposed to be a story about supervillains at large in the city. Exciting times in this town again - just like the good old days."
The Parrs' hearts sank, because they had already seen the front page and it showed their faces as the 'supervillains at large'.
"Maybe they aren't really supervillains," said Violet.
"If the paper says they are, then that's what they are," said the old man stubbornly. "Now, what can I do for you folks?"
"I'd, umm, like to send a telegram," said Helen.
"There's a self-service telegram machine right over in the corner," said the store owner, leading the way. "Here kids, have a muffin to eat while I show your mother how to send a telegram."
Dash lost no time. As soon as the man was out of sight, he scarfed down the muffin and began zooming through the store, looking for large-sized men's clothing. It took several passes because the store was crammed with all sorts of things, from shelves of canned asparagus to crates of peacock feathers to stacks of old phonograph records. Finally he found a pile of large-sized mens coats and pants. Just as Dash was sprinting for the door with the clothes, the way was blocked by a tall, elderly man carrying a stack of newspapers.
Violet saw the situation and generated a small force-field to nudge the man gently from behind, leaving just enough space for Dash to zip through. Then she hid down one aisle, took off her overalls, and became invisible.
"Wooh, bit of a breeze just now, Milt!" the man said. "Lucky I got in the door or my papers would've blown away. There's a crowd of folks gathering out on the street and they'd had gotten my papers for free."
"Those are just the Volunteers Fighting Disease," called Milt. "They never read the newspapers. Good folks, though. They go every day to Hemoglobin Hospital to cheer up the sick."
Milt came walking back to the front of the store. "Let me see one of those papers, Lou. I want to read about the supervillains."
"Yep, there's supervillain children on the loose," said Lou. "Here's their pictures."
"Them?" said Milt when he saw the pictures. "Those are the same supers we saw fighting the robot. Remember? Just like the good old days, I told you."
"It says in here that was just a publicity stunt. They're supervillains, all right," said Lou.
"You know what? They just came in here! I gave them blueberry muffins," said Milt.
"You should've called the police, not fed them muffins," said Lou.
"I didn't know," said Milt. "There was a woman with them too, and I thought she was their mother."
"That was probably the supervillain Bomb Voyage in disguise," said Lou. "It says here they were seen with him."
"Wow!" said Milt. "I'm calling the police right away. You block the door and don't let them escape!"
"Me, stop a gang of supervillains? I'm not so sure about that!" said Lou nervously.
But he needn't have worried. While they were talking, Violet had slipped by them invisibly and Helen had stretched up to crawl over their heads on the ceiling and then slipped around the bottom of the door. All three Parrs had gotten away.
The two old friends called the police and then sat down together on the doorstep to read all the lies that would fit in print in the "Daily Punctuation."