Yello, folksies! Doin' good? I am! Only a few more weeks of school! Celebrate! … Then there's summer school. Well crap. Eh, whatever. So we started with whamo blamo, didn't we? Drat, I was trying to avoid that. Too late! Next chappy starts in 5...4...3...2...1...
Well, since the Incredible family was rather lacking of a vehicle at the moment, they had to settle for the next best thing: a taxi cab. I'm quite sure they were all feeling very embarrassed and ridiculous by the time they got out. What's worse is that Mr. Incredible didn't have the cash on him to pay the driver; he had to have his son run up to the house, grab his wallet, and bring it back to him. As if that wasn't enough, they then had to trek the mile and a half from where the cab dropped them off to the house so that the driver wouldn't be able to discover their secret identities. Needless to say, there were some horns honked when cars passed them by.
The night was spent in silence, with exceptions for when someone asked for the peas at the dinner table. It was obvious that Violet and Dash had taken the loss to the Underminer rather hard. After all, their first meeting with a homicidal maniac (aka Syndrome) had ended in fireworks and a whole new wardrobe. Helen and Bob weren't much better off. Although the adults remembered from the Glory Days that it was impossible to win every battle, losing in front of the kids was embarrassing. If it hadn't been for innocent little Jack-Jack, the night would have been far too "normal" for it to be a normal night at the Parr house (let's just say he had a little excursion on the roof).
The next day was Sunday, and the last day of summer for Dash and Vi. Which is why the silent phenomenon of the household stopped the moment the family got up.
"Good luck at the job interview, Honey!" Helen shouted to Bob as he walked out the front door to the cab waiting in the driveway. She, being Elastigirl, was trying to coax crying Jack-Jack into eating his mushed baby-food for breakfast while shoving Dash into the bathroom (which was a floor above her) for a bath and pulling Violet's feet to get the teenager to wake up and get dressed, while waving off her husband.
Bob, dressed up in his best suit, was feeling good about this job interview as he stepped into the cab. Things had sounded promising on the phone. Then he noticed the guy driving his cab. As they approached an intersection, the driver glanced in the rearview mirror at Bob and said in a well-mannered voice, "I was just up here yesterday afternoon."
"W-were you now?"
"Yeah. Had to drop off a family of five down here at the intersection. You wouldn't believe who these guys were dressed up as."
"That so?"
"Go on, guess," the young driver said, turning the yellow cab to the left onto the main road.
"Uh, five you said? Hm, w-were they dressed up as, uh, the Scooby-Do crew?"
"Nah, keep guessing."
"Uh, one of those pop bands? What's the one my niece's always t-talking about… the really bad one…" Bob said, trying to lie convincingly. Not only did he know what the family was dressed up as- he didn't even have a niece.
"No, not a band. Give ya one more guess."
"U-u-uh, h-how 'bout, um, Finding Nemo characters?"
"Nope! It was the Incredibles, man."
"R-really? Were they going to a… costume party?"
"Nah, man. They were the real deal!"
"W-what makes you say that?"
"The boy, man. The speedster. Mr. Incredible didn't have cash on him, so his son had to run to the house and grab his dough. Man that kid can run!"
Bob sat up a little taller. That's my boy. "Impressive."
"Yeah. And Mrs. Incredible was havin' one heck-of-a fit, too. Seems somebody messed up at the brawl yesterday with, whas-his-name, the Miner? Apparently, they used to have a car!"
"That's got to be hard on the insurance!" Bob said, knowing full well it was hard on the insurance.
"Yeah. Speakin' a which, you hear what happened yesterday outside the track stadium?" the driver said, turning into a roundabout. Something about his tone of voice told Bob that he'd be talking about the fight whether he said he'd seen it or not, so he just shook his head 'no.'
"Man, it something else. Mayer had a fit when he and the cops got there. Tons of damage, and the guys didn't even catch the creep (although, if you ask me, they did a pretty bang-up job). Man, the politicians are gonna have a field day with this one. Don't trust them politicians. They'll leave ya broke and tell you it's for own good by the end of it, I guarantee! Who knows how the debates are gonna turn out…At least the supers got the media on their side!" the driver said, barely paying attention to the road as he spoke. He was about to continue his own type of monologue, but the taxi cab (which really seemed to drive itself) had parked itself in front of Bob's stop. "Here we are!"
Bob stepped out of the car and handed the young man his pay. "Pleasure talking to you."
"You, too!" the man said, tipping his hat to Bob before he zoomed away. Bob turned back to the skyscraper in front of him, whistling in awe as he bent back to see the top. Suddenly, he had butterflies in his stomach. He wondered whether every person he met today would be talking about the day before.
Gathering his courage, Robert Parr walked confidently past the fountain in front of the building and noted to himself that the cab driver had charged a little much the night before, too.
Back to Helen and kids!
As Vi ate her pancakes for breakfast, one word seemed to loom over her like a dark omen: school. High school. Violet was entering high school this year (if you look at movie, it said middle school or junior high, one of those, on the front of her school. And if she's fourteen, then she had to have been and eighth grader. Shutting up). The teenage girl felt very glad that she'd gained as much confidence as she had over the summer, otherwise she wouldn't know how to survive being a freshman in high school.
Dash on the other hand, was feeling pretty good about school. He was eleven now, his birthday having come and past over the summer, and he was going to one of the older kids in the fifth grade. Best of all, a new teacher. Whoever it was, there was no way they'd know about all his old tricks (or the new ones). Plus as a fifth grader, only the sixth graders could push him around. He was practically grown up and in junior high.
"So," Helen said, knowing to approach her children with caution as far as school went, "do you guys want to go buy your school supplies after breakfast, or later this afternoon?"
"After breakfast."
"Later on."
"Well, now that that subject has been resolved, who're your teachers? Dash?"
"Huh? (A/N he'd been playing with his syrup) Oh, teacher! Uh, I haven't looked at my schedule yet."
"You haven't either, have you, Vi?"
"I prefer not to think about school."
"Don't worry! It'll be a great year! Besides, you're going to high school this year!"
"Don't remind me."
"Well, you two finish your breakfast and get dressed; we've got a lot to do today," Helen said to the kids, taking her plate and Jack-Jack's mess over to the sink.
Jack-Jack sneezed suddenly, and he laser-visioned at the wall across from him, where numerous other laser-vision marks were.
Helen looked at the new burn on her wall, cocking an eyebrow in 'go-figure-ness.' "Well, perfect."
Okay, so this is more of a filler chapter. It'll be more fun next time, I promise.
Review…?