There were a lot of places Spike Speeder, globe trotting hacker and street adventurer, could turn up, but Mr. Quail's fourth period algebra class wasn't one of them. He gazed absently at the room's clock for what seemed to be the on millionth time that day. Calvin vaguely wondered if he got a prize for checking it so often, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. His notebook, a battered old thing he had kept since his founding of G.R.O.S.S., was still open to the notes he had taken earlier in the period, but now he wasn't too keen on writing out another example problem involving some obscure form of equation. Instead he was dragging his pencil over the margins of the sheet, writing the words that were really on his mind.

"Riding down the electron highway at the speed of thought," he wrote to himself.

He could see it then, a silver wire frame gliding through the neon seas free as a bird and fast as a jet. This wasn't much comfort for him, so he pulled Spike Speeder out of the electron highway and into a similar situation. Spike Speeder thus found himself in a cubicle, working for the Quail Computer Systems in menial office position. It wasn't the most dignified path, but it worked wonders for maintaining his cover identity. It was definitely a world of difference from Calvin, who was being forced to stay there at his desk.

"I am a legend in this virtual world," Calvin began etching in his notebook again. Reading over his words again, he realized how much truth resonated in that simple statement. Years had passed since he was last Stupendous Man, Tracer Bullet's adventures had long faded from the streets, and even Spaceman Spiff, the intergalactic hero had flown off into the void of space, but they were still legends in Calvin's mind.

"God willing I'll never be ashamed of the heroes from my past," he wrote further, thinking about some of the things he had been told by the grown ups who seemed to be road blocks in his path, wherever it was taking him.

He looked up briefly to see an unimpressed Mr. Quail staring down at him, and the rest of the class watching him with similar flat expressions of quiet disbelief.

"I'm glad to see that you've found something more important than the lesson at hand, Calvin. Perhaps you could share your findings with the rest of the class, since I'm -certain- that you have discovered something that puts passing my class to shame," he said. Mr. Quail was remarkably sarcastic, and in that capacity he reminded Calvin of his mother, albeit with a sharper, meaner edge.

"Oh, er, just some, ah, random thoughts," Calvin said with a nervous grin. Inwardly he was retorting that he had indeed discovered something more important than some mind numbingly dull formula. He would have given everything short of Hobbes to have Spike Speeder's dry cool wit right then, but that option was likewise closed to him, like every other option he could have wanted to take. Mr. Quail scooped up Calvin's notebook, and frowned as he review the contents of the page it was opened to.

"You stopped paying attention half way through the lesson. I don't suppose Mr. Virtual Legend could solve the problem on the board?" Mr. Quail remarked before tossing the book back on Calvin's desk.

Calvin looked away from the man, seething with anger, a display that only caused Mr. Quail to snort. He tried to think what Spike Speeder, brilliant hacker and wizard of applied sciences, would do in this situation. The answer hit him like a bolt of lightning, and Calvin climbed out of his seat wordlessly and walked up to the blackboard, grabbing a piece of chalk and setting to work solving the math problem laid out by the teacher, taking pains to show his work. Teacher and class watched with restrained amusement as Calvin's brain, which he was still touting as a genius level mind, shredded through the problem like a chainsaw through hot butter. When he was done, he simply turned around and walked back to his seat with a satisfied expression.

"Well," Mr. Quail said as he evaluated Calvin's work, "Could someone come up to the board and show us all how to solve the problem and get the correct answer?"

The rest of the students broke out in laughter, causing Calvin to slump into his seat as though trying to hide. He threw up a false face of indifference, but inwardly, he wanted to respond to his humiliation with something other than submission. It felt as though his intestines were being twisted into knots around his burning lungs. As the bell rang, Calvin sulked out of the classroom silently. The route through the halls he followed was based purely on rote memorization, and by the time he got past his brooding and realized what his next class was, it was too late. He was now trapped in the gym locker room. And there was one word on the dry erase board that the gym teachers used to announce the day's plans to the students that struck dread into Calvin's heart; wrestling.