The Man Who Didn't Feel Like It
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Disclaimer: We do not own these characters. Except Bezo, who has a Frozone action figure. But other than that, nope. Not ours. Not even our original characters. We stole them, too. Thanks, Jen!
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Summary: Life in The City just isn't interesting enough for The Heroes. Fortunately, things are about to take a turn for the stupid, with the advent of a dangerously lazy new foe, The Underachiever! We might finish this, if we feel like it...whatever.
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It had been six months.
Six months since the horrifying, terrorific Rise of the Underminer. The greatest force of evil and de-gardening ever known to man.
It had, incidentally, been approximately five months, twenty-nine days, and twenty-three hours since the subsequent Fall of the Underminer, who had proved not to be as great a force of evil as previously feared.
Five months, twenty-nine days, and twenty-three hours of absolute, mind-numbing normality.
And it was starting to take its toll on the Parrs.
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"Mom! I'm bored," Dash whined, swirling his finger around in the gooey, dripping mess that had previously been a bucket of ice cream.
Helen, in the process of unpacking the last of the (kitchen) boxes and wondering in helpless bewilderment why she'd ever imagined she'd need all these spices – what the heck was turmeric, anyway? – sighed heavily.
"If you're finished with your ice cream, Dash, you could tidy your roo--"
"Done," the little boy announced glumly, dropping back into his chair.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a picture hanging slightly askew in the hall, likely knocked that way on her small son's return to the kitchen, and one exceedingly long arm shot out to straighten it.
"O...kay, well, if you're really bored, the front closet could use some--"
"Got it," he said an instant later upon his return.
"Go get a law degree," Violet suggested from the other side of the kitchen table, happily reapplying a fresh mountain of aerosol whipped cream to her sundae.
Helen fixed her daughter with a reproachful eye.
"Now, that's not fair, Vi; you know Dash doesn't have the grades."
"Yeah, not to mention, I'm ten," Dash added, pouting.
Apparently, the world at large had a substantial objection to the young Dashiel's age, as at that moment, the house began to tip and shake alarmingly.
"Aargh! Earthquake!" Violet noted curiously as she was thrown into the kitchen counters
"Aargh! Godzilla!" Dash added conversationally as he ran frantically in spot to keep from sliding across the kitchen after his sister.
"Shut up, Dash," Violet suggested kindly.
"Violet! Dash, go see what's going on," Helen ordered, terrifying ideas already forming in her mind. "If it's the Underminer again, we'll have to act fast."
"How could it be the Underminer, Mom?" Violet demanded, scrambling for a doorframe as plaster began to drop. "He's bits!"
"Yeah, that seems to happen," the redhead noted, frowning. "Syndrome, the Underminer, the Loiterer, the Litterer, the Looter...er, and of course, Captain Absolutely Indestructible."
"He really didn't live up to his name," Violet sighed, shaking her head.
"Hey, guys?" called Dash, who had departed and arrived sometime between Helen's order and Violet's first response. "There's no earthquake. Dad's just bench-pressing the house again."
Helen pressed a hand wearily to her head.
"Ugh. Just once, I'd like to pay off a mortgage. Just one! Is that so much to ask?"
"Honey?" a voice called from outside. "You ranting in there?"
"Bob," Helen called through gritted teeth. "Put down the house."
A jarring collision sent Dash and Violet tumbling into the fridge.
"Gently!" Helen added, grabbing into the window with one hand and the children with the other, and dragging all three of them across the kitchen.
"Oh, okay!" Bob called back cheerfully, picking up the house again and setting it down gingerly.
"Just one mortgage!"
"Dad, you've gotta stop bench-pressing the house every time you get a little bored!" Violet said severely as the towering, sweatpants-clad, sweaty form of Bob Parr appeared at the back door.
"Sorry, Kiddo," he said sadly, ruffling Dash's hair absently, or at the very least, trying to, and finally giving up in despair. "It's just been slow around here lately. Ever since we took down Captain Absolutely Indestructible--"
"That's a bit of a misnomer, Bob," Helen interjected. "He kind of took himself down. Remember? He tripped over his shoe and drove his indestructible forearm into his indestructible forehead, which caused them both to explode."
Dash scratched his head.
"How?"
Violet made a noise of deep disgust with the ignorance of the young(er).
"When something indestructible meets something indestructible, they explode. It's a well known fact, Dash."
Bob nodded his agreement from his trip through the fridge for a cold soda.
"Yeah, it's physics, or something." He straightened up and continued with his mild complaint. "Anyway, ever since him, it's like the world's been a utopia! Nothing bad ever happens anymore! Even dogs pick up after themselves! The pooper-scooper people are about to go out of business, and nobody cares! Well, I care about the pooper-scooper people!"
Helen eyed him suspiciously, arms crossed.
"Horrible, isn't it? Peace and tranquility. How are you going to disrupt this?"
Bob sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he dropped into a chair.
"That's not what I meant. It's great that the world's at peace and all, but I'm itchin' for some action!"
Helen raised her eyebrow, a slow grin creeping over her face.
"Really."
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"Geez, how much did they give us?" Dash wondered aloud, counting a wad of cash as he and his sister made their way down the sun-baked sidewalks of suburban The City. "Whoa! There's a hundred and fifty dollars here! That's twenty more than they gave us last time!"
"Inflation," Violet nodded sagely. "That'll barely cover the movie and popcorn."
"You wanna go to the arcade?"
Violet scoffed.
"Oh, yeah, right. Because there's nothing I love more than watching you hustle losers at the air hockey table."
"You're just mad because I'm better at DDR than your boyfriend!"
"What Tony lacks in speed, he makes up for in grace!" Violet protested hotly, hands clenched at her sides as she wheeled angrily on her brother. "Let's just see you twirl a cane like that!"
"Look, let's just go to the movies, okay?" Dash whined.
The dark-haired girl rolled her eyes as they came to a stop at the crosswalk.
"We don't have enough money, remember?"
Dash slumped forward dejectedly.
"Oh, right. Well, we can't go back home; Mom and Dad said to come back in eight hours. It's only been ten minutes."
Violet thought carefully.
"Wanna go to Wal-Mart?"
"Yeah!" Dash exclaimed excitedly. "Wal-Mart's an adventure everyday!"
"You need less sugar, Dash."
Dash pouted.
"If you had to eat seventy-two gallons of ice cream a day just to stay awake, you'd be hyper, too."
"You know, you could eat other things," Violet pointed out.
"I like ice cream."
"Children," she sighed.
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"Frozen bread," Lucius Best was meanwhile muttering. "Frozen bread, with marshmallow topping and blueberry jam. Get a woman a little bit pregnant, and she wants her bread frozen. Fortunately," he added with a grin, reaching for a loaf of Wonderbread, "that's right up my alley."
He sighed sadly.
"Man, I'm gonna have to get all my adventuring done before the little Snow Cone comes along. Unfortunately, with no villains out there doing anything, it's hard to justify. Dammit...where the hell are all the dangerous psychopaths nowadays?"
"Geez, Lucius, you sound just like my dad!"
The tall man whirled around to peer in the direction that the little voice had come from.
"Oh, hey kids. Just like your dad, huh? I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment, or an insult. He's not around, is he?" he finished, glancing nervously about.
"No, he and Mom sent us to a movie and said not to come back for eight hours," Dash said sadly.
"Damn," Lucius noted, impressed. "With his super-stamina and her ability to assume any position, I guess that's about right. It's gonna be a good night in the Parr house, eh?"
"Lucius, you're talking about our parents," Violet reminded him, looking rather green as he nudged her conspiratorially. "I'm going to need therapy."
"Aw, kid, after all you've been through, you already need therapy," he laughed, slapping her on the back.
"Guys guys guys guys guys guys guys!" Dash called as he finished his quick round of the store and came to a halt in the frozen goods aisle.
"What?" Lucius asked flatly. He turned to Violet. "Concision."
"Good for you," Violet said kindly.
"Remember that lady who was going to help that evil guy with the funny stand-ey up-ey hair try to destroy the world and then changed her mind and helped us not destroy it 'cause Dad had normal hair that didn't stick up and then she gave us a rocket but it didn't work and we were never really sure what side she was on? Well, she's here. Buying flowers."
Lucius looked up sharply.
"What kind of flowers?"
Dash gave a long-suffering sigh.
"I'll go check."
Violet half-blinked.
"Begonias," Dash said as he finished his second lap of the store and the neighbourhood besides, just to show off.
"Begonias?" Lucius repeated, frowning. "They're not in season. Doesn't she know they'll die? Unless...we've gotta get Bob in on this! She could be planning to take over the world!"
Dash and Violet stared blankly.
"With flowers!" Lucius elaborated with a sweeping gesture.
"OH, MY GOD!" Violet wailed. Then she frowned. "Wait, why is that scary?"
"C'mon, Vi, using something beautiful and pure like a flower for evil? It's diabolical!"
Violet stared blankly at Lucius again, and then leaned back against the frozen dinners cooler and popped several Advil, as a crushing headache suddenly overtook her. Then she looked up again.
"She could just want flowers," she suggested impatiently.
Lucius snorted in disbelief.
"Oh, come on; when have you ever known a woman to want flowers?"
Violet nodded, exaggeratedly thoughtful.
"Right, good point."
"Thank-you," Lucius said, beaming.
Violet sighed in despair. Yup, one of those days.
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