Okay, today had started off terrible, which meant it could only get better.

Even though he hadn't spoken the idea out loud, Ron could detect the tone of forced optimism in his thoughts. Last night, Kim had sent a mass text to all of the cheer squad, calling for a meeting this morning. That was bad enough; knowing that he didn't even rate a phone call. Second, Ron really hated getting up earlier than he needed to, and meeting before classes meant that he had to get up earlier. Finally, most guys would think it was great to hang with pretty girls while waiting for another one, but they didn't know the truth. The fact was, the rest of the cheer squad didn't like waking up early any more than he did, but they were more vocal about their displeasure than he was. None of them could seem to grasp the fact that no, Kim hadn't confided in him about what this was all about. He could only guess, but wasn't about to say, that this meeting had something to do with a certain artificial person.

While Kim was the last to show up, she was at least there before the scheduled meeting time. Ron was shocked to see that Kim was carrying a small box, and that her eyes were red and swollen. The rest of the squad went silent while Ron jumped to his feet and ran to meet her.

"Kim," he asked. "What's wr..."

"Not now," she told him. "I have to get this done." Standing in front of the rest of the squad, she raised her voice so that all could hear her. "I'm sure that you've all seen the news, so there's no need to go over the fact that I'm having some issues with my personal life. Because of this, I can't devote the time I need to the squad."

Most of the girls gasped, although Bonnie looked calculating.

"My last act as the captain, and a member, will be to have an election for the new captain," she told them, setting down the box. "The election will take place now, with no time for campaigning or making alliances. I'll give each of you a piece of paper and a pencil. Write who you want to be the new captain and drop the paper in the box."

Ron voted for Crystal, because she always seemed to be the most practical member of the squad. However, once Kim counted up the votes, he was the only one who had voted for her. Bonnie had received three votes, Marcella and Tara both had two.

"We have to have a new vote," Kim announced. "There has to be a majority. The only candidates are Bonnie, Marcella and Tara."

The vote was held again, this time, Bonnie got five votes to Marcella's two and Tara's single vote.

"Very well, Bonnie is the new captain," Kim announced, with no emotion. "As of now, I am no longer on the squad." Now, she took a deep breath. "We...we really had some good times, didn't we?"

Even Bonnie seemed a little misty-eyed, and the rest of the girls asked Kim to say why she was quitting.

"I may be able to tell you, later," Kim told everyone. "In the meantime, do you mind if I borrow the mascot? I need to talk to Ron."

"Sure," Bonnie told her. "I've got some business to attend to, since we're all here."

Kim gave her a pointed look, then shrugged her shoulders and waved for Ron to follow her. He did so, getting more nervous with every step. Eventually, they had walked out of a back door and, with some privacy, Kim came to the point.

"I got some bad news last night," she said, her voice starting to quiver a bit. "Eric...Eric has a very limited life span. He won't live more than a year at the very most."

Ron was caught flat-footed. He was irritated, again, that Kim could be so blind to bring him in on her feelings for that...thing. Somehow, he managed to stop himself from saying that Eric couldn't have a limited life span, because he wasn't alive.

"He's being released this afternoon," Kim continued. "Global Justice allowed me a phone call. He was programmed to act like a teenage boy, so he wants to do that for the rest of his life. He'll be attending classes here at Middleton High and I want to spend as much time with him as I can..." She broke off, sobbing, while Ron ground his teeth.

"That's why I'm quitting the cheer squad," Kim finally managed to continue. "He tried to tell me to not do it, but I want to make the time he has left as special as I can. I need a favor from you, since Eric wants to live like a teenage boy, I'm going to need you to be his friend, as well. I need you to..."

"That's it!" Ron had finally had enough of this whole mess. Kim suddenly stopped, her eyes flying wide.

Thinking quickly, he couldn't recall another time he had actually come out and said no to her.

"Kim..." he struggled to find the words. If he said ten, it would be too many and if he said a thousand, it wouldn't be enough. "I have had it with this whole Eric sitch!" He finally snapped at her. "Can't you understand that Eric is a thing?"

"You wouldn't say that if you knew him!" Kim answered. "He has feelings, he cares for me..."

"So do I!" Ron interrupted her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded.

Ron was dumbstruck. How could she even ask?

"What it means is that ever since Eric showed up, you've ditched me, pushed me aside and ignored me, unless you needed a favor," he finally managed to rasp out. "Friday night, our night for years, you invited him...it...without even talking to me! But when your Dad got kidnapped, who was it that you asked to come along with you?"

"But..." Kim started to reply, but Ron was in full rant mode.

"When you met me in the tree-house and talked about us always being tight," he interrupted her. This was somehow more exhausting than a mission, but he didn't care. "Pretty words, but what happened when it showed up? You left, right away, no asking it to wait a few minutes for me. The moment it was in the picture, you weren't about to waste any time on me, were you?"

"Will you..."

"And the morning walk to school," he pushed on, ignoring her narrowed eyes, knowing that her temper was rising, but not caring. "For years we walked together, but when it showed up with its ride, you left without even telling me. When it was there, you couldn't even take a few seconds to let me know you were moving on, could you?"

"Stop calling him an it!" Kim roared back, her fists clenched at her sides.

"No, I won't stop it!" Ron roared back. "Because it is an it!"

"He is not!" Kim shouted back. "He has feelings and he wants to do the right thing!"

"I've been trying to do the right thing for years!"

"Is that it?" She dropped her voice to a snarl. "Is this jealousy over me and Eric?"

"Yes!" Ron couldn't believe that she had been so blind. Of course, until she came out and confronted him on it, he really hadn't realized it either.

"Really?" She stared at him, stunned. He guessed that she wasn't stunned so much by the fact that he was jealous as the fact that he freely admitted to it. Apparently, when someone caught you displaying an ugly emotion, you were supposed to deny it.

"Yes, really," he growled back. "Kim, you're everything I could ever want in a girlfriend, but I'm not good enough for you and seeing how you just lose your head over..."

"It's not about being good enough!" She interrupted him. "I just don't feel that way about you."

"I know," he threw up his hands, helpless. "You tried to do the right thing, you made a special trip to my house to tell me that I didn't measure up. Blame it all on me but somewhere between the missions and the cheerleading, watching Agony County and the Friday nights, between shared classes and the weekends we always spent together, I fell for you."

Kim stared at him, slack jawed. The silence lasted long enough to get uncomfortable...not that the whole sitch wasn't uncomfortable enough, so he forged on.

"I can't just turn it off," he admitted. "And that's what really hurts. We were friends forever, all of the things that we did together...and you feel nothing."

"Nothing?" Now she had an expression of complete disbelief on her face. "You're my best friend!"

"Yeah, but that sure changed when Eric showed up, didn't it?" Ron countered. "There were plenty of times that you forgot all about me when he was around. How many times did you ditch him for me?"

"When I left prom," she shot back. "I was having a great time when you showed up with some wild story about evil toys at Bueno Nacho. I left my prom date to figure out why my best friend was so upset."

Okay, he hadn't thought about that; and come to think of it, the story about evil toys attacking him did sound pretty far-fetched. Granted it turned out to be true and considering the things that they had become accustomed to, it probably wasn't all that insane, but it was still the sort of story that you had to struggle to believe.

"I can understand you being jealous," she continued, once she realized that he had been silenced by logic. "I was jealous when you started hanging with Felix, but we got by that and all became friends. Why can't we get by this and all be friends?"

"Because being friends is different that falling for someone," he answered her. "When you started hanging with Monique I got jealous. But I realized that you being friends with Monique didn't mean that you couldn't be friends with me. We were still as tight as ever. But now that your with...Eric...we're not tight anymore and..."

He actually sobbed. Kim was patient, waiting for him to get some semblance of control of himself.

"It means that I'm never going to be to you what he is," Ron finally blurted out. "And seeing you act like that around him only makes it worse. He gets the girl, I don't. Why do I have to be happy with that? Why do I have to help with that?"

"So is that all the years of friendship were to you?" Now Kim seemed to be just as miserable as him. "It was all a lead up to get into my pants?

"There's a lot more to it than that, and you know it!" He snapped back at her. "It's the way you treat him, the way you want him to treat you...and knowing that you'll never want that from me!"

"Okay, it's not just about sex," she admitted. "But doesn't being friends mean anything to you? Was it all time wasted because we didn't turn into something else? Is that what you're saying?"

"No, it meant a lot," he sighed, a lot of the anger gone. "And it still does."

"So why is it so hard?" She asked, also acting like she was exhausted. "Why can't we still be friends?"

"We are still friends," he pointed out. "But it just tears me up seeing how crazy you are about him, just as crazy as I am about you, and knowing that you'll never look at me like that. I know you tried to stop this from happening, but I can't help the way I feel." He took a deep breath, bracing himself. "All the history between us, everything we went through together...then, the first time you saw him, no missions together, no being on the same team, no history at all...and you just lost it."

"You said that you can't help the way you feel," she murmured. "Neither can I."

"Even after you found out that he wasn't real?"

"He is real!" Kim's voice was back to a shout. "Come see him! If you tell him a story, he'll laugh if he thinks it's funny. Ask him a question, he'll do his best to answer it. Ask him what he wants to do, he'll tell you. Before Drakken let his diablos loose, he was kind to everyone! When we went to Bueno Nacho Headquarters, he made the choice to help me, help us, take down Drakken. He made that choice, isn't that real?"

"He was made to make you fall for him," Ron countered her, keeping his voice down. "You heard Freeman and Porter, every thing he did, every word he said, was designed to make you fall for him. Do you know why he was kind to everyone? It was because Drakken knew you approve of that! Don't you think it's a little bit creepy that a man, the same age as your father, built him and programmed him to make you fall for him?"

"How different is that from a guy putting on the latest fashions, styling his hair, or working out to get a good look?" Kim asked him. "Just how different is that from a guy coming up with witty conversation to charm a girl?

"It's different because his whole purpose was to charm you, then keep you out of Drakken's hair!" Ron was back to being angry again. "He didn't get to know you and fall for you; he didn't take one look and fall for you. It wasn't a case of him falling for you. He's who he his..." Ron suddenly realized how he had been referring to Eric. "It's what it is to get this exact reaction out of you. Man, Drakken really his job well, because even after his big plan failed, this one is still succeeding and it's only succeeding because that thing is hot to look at!"

"Do you really think I'm that shallow?" Kim's temper was back in full force.

"Throw all that personality, all that kindness into your cousin Larry's body and tell me you would have fallen for it the way you did...the way you still are."

"I'm just being loyal to my boyfriend!" Kim snapped back. "Yes, there, I said it. Eric is my boyfriend and I don't care that he wasn't born! I don't care what he was intended to do, the fact is that he is who he is and I like that. Now, you can either be my best friend and help me make his last few months as normal and as happy as I can, or you can just leave me alone to do it on my own!"

"You already know my answer," Ron was actually proud of himself for keeping his voice steady. "I guess you've made your choice. Eric is more important to you than I am, so I'm giving you what you want. Have fun with your boyfriend, Kim."

He yanked the door open and stalked back into the gym. If this were an episode of Agony County, Kim would call for him to come back and he would ignore her. He knew better; Kim wasn't the sort of person to back down when she took a stand. Unfortunately for their friendship, he just couldn't bring himself to back down, either. It wasn't easy for him to keep the tears from flowing.

"Oh, Stoppable, how convenient," If there was one voice that could tune out the hurt and replace it with irritation, it was Bonnie's. He honestly didn't know if he should be thankful for the distraction or upset with it. He decided that what would be would be and walked across the floor to where the team was still gathered. He noted that Tara and Crystal wore irritated expressions, while the rest of the squad wouldn't meet his gaze. Bonnie looked triumphant.

"We had a meeting," Bonnie informed him, her happiness evident in her tone. "We've decided that it's time to eliminate the mascot position. I hope it's not going to mix up your college applications too badly, but you're going to have to find another extracurricular activity."

Ron wondered when the day was going to start to get better, because it was showing no sign of changing yet.

She was supposed to be meditating upon the need for discipline and order and how her acts had damaged both, yet she couldn't help but wonder what was to become of her. Yori had become disillusioned with some of Yamanouchi's acts, but she was still a child of the school and knew no other life. Would she be banished with but the clothes on her back? If so, she had no doubt that she could make a sufficient, if not exactly comfortable, living in the civilian world. Would she be demoted to the lowest of servants within the school? If so, she could survive. Her friend was now free, so the price would not be too much to be born.

However, for all it's emphasis on the ability to fit in with the outside world, Yamanouchi remained a world apart. Yori was fully aware that save for a few aliases and people who knew her, there was no record of her existence outside of these walls. If needed, Yamanouchi could make her vanish with very little effort. She wondered how that would play out; would she be placed against a superior student, even one of the masters, and told that it would be the last fight of her life? Would it be a blade in the dark while she slept? Would it be poison in her food? She did not know, so she decided that worrying about it would be to no benefit. If Yamanouchi deemed that it was her time to die, she would die.

She suddenly became aware that Master Sensei was standing in front of her. She had not been meditating, she had been worrying and wondering, so she felt guilty as she sprang to her feet and bowed low. He had undoubtedly utilized this ability to suddenly appear, one that she did not know that he possessed, in an effort to further confuse and intimidate her. She had to admit, it had worked.

"Have you spent your time meditating upon the need for discipline within Yamanouchi," the old man asked her. "As you were instructed when I confined you to your room?"

"Not as diligently as I should have," she confessed.

She swore she saw the slightest twitch of his mustache, but could not be sure.

"Follow me," he ordered, then turned quickly to her door.

Outside was bright and sunny. The scents of mountain flowers and the kitchens were in the air, as were the shouts of intense combat training. Yori had a less than complimentary suspicion that Master Sensei delayed his judgment and punishment of her in order to avoid such stimuli while suffering a hangover. She quickly squelched this thought; while she had lost some of her illusions of the noble state of Yamanouchi, she knew that Master Sensei would never let personal discomfort stand in the way of performing his duties.

Still, if this was to be her last day in Yamanouchi, or perhaps even upon this Earth, it was nice to have a vindictive, if untrue, thought.

She quickly realized where they were going, and it made her nervous. Yamanouchi's cemetery wasn't as large as one might suspect a century's old schools to be. For one thing, death due to old age wasn't guaranteed, and when a ninja died on a mission, it was often impossible to recover the body without exposing the school to an unacceptable degree. For another, many of the graduates eventually took up ordinary lives, where they acted as passive spies, observers, kept safe-houses, and did other such supporting tasks. When they passed away, the friends, family and other acquaintences they had formed saw to their final rest, allowing them to keep Yamanouchi's secrets even in death. Finally, space on the mountain was limited, so the honored dead were cremated and a portion of their ashes stored in small urns to commemorate their lives and service. It was to this mausoleum area that Sensei was leading her.

Yori realized that she had never witnessed an execution within Yamanouchi, nor had ever heard of one. If Master Sensei had deemed her offense to be severe enough, was this how it was done? Was the accused taken to the crematory, which was close to the mausoleum, for the execution? It would be efficient, and Yamanouchi was nothing if not efficient.

Instead of the crematory, Master Sensei led her to the mausoleum, then through the open, crowded space. At the back wall, he produced an ancient, ornate key and inserted it into a keyhole that Yori had never seen before. She was surprised and ashamed, as a young student, she had cleaned here numerous times and had never seen the keyhole, nor noticed the doorway that swung away at her master's nudge. Again, she swore he smiled slightly at her self-chagrin.

Here, tradition gave way to a modern touch. Instead of producing a candle or a lamp, the old man pulled a flashlight from his robe, turned it on, and led the way into a dark tunnel beyond the door. It wasn't long before they emerged outside again and found themselves in a shrine that Yori had never seen before. The stone had been carved away, leaving a circular, level space with only the entrance they had just walked through providing access. In the walls around them, numerous niches were carved while directly across from them, intricate carvings decorated yet another niche. It was to this niche that the master led his student.

"This shrine is usually only shown to those who have graduated Yamanouchi and have been initiated into its deeper secrets," Master Sensei told her. "And then, only if they have a need to know about it. You are certain to achieve the first two requirements, so I have taken the liberty of showing this to you a few years early. As for the last, I believe that you need to know."

Yori considered his words carefully. He had just let her know that she was to be neither banished nor eliminated. Could the old man even approve of what she had done? Before she could think further, they had reached the decorated niche across the hollow from where they had entered.

"The resting place of Toshimiru's ashes," the old man declared, pointing to a weathered stone urn inside the niche. "The last link that his spirit has with the material world, in an isolated hollow he carved himself, to be known of by few and visited only rarely. I visited this place earlier today."

Now, he led her back towards the entrance and gestured to another niche, one with another, freshly carved urn.

"Junso's ashes," the master explained. "Every one of Toshimiru's direct descendants has come to rest here, in the shrine he carved with the Lotus Blade, so many centuries ago. Look, and tell me what you notice."

This was clearly another test, so Yori looked carefully, trying to see what was significant, what was to be expected. She looked at the urns, in their niches, stretching around the hollow. As her gaze worked its way back to the founder's niche, the urns grew more weathered and the carved labels in the stone grew more less distinct due to weathering, and the language itself altered due to the passage of time. Yet, the degradation of the urns and the carving seemed linear, reflecting how long each had rested here. Next, she examined the urns themselves, without touching them, of course. All appeared to be carved of the same granite...the same granite that formed the walls around them. Perhaps Toshimiru had carved all of the urns as well, from the very stone he had removed to create this shrine. Interesting, but Yori did not think that this would be significant.

She thought then to examine the construction of the niche's. All appeared to be the same, of course it was somewhat difficult to confirm, since they all contained...

"There are no empty niche's, master," she declared, after quickly counting them all. "Junso told me that she was the one-hundredth generation of Toshimiru's direct line. This shrine was made to house the ashes of one-hundred generations."

"Excellent," Master Sensei nodded. "We have come to the end of one prophecy. What happens in the future is shrouded in darkness. Perhaps the Han will return to Yamanouchi someday, carve a new hollow, and found a new prophecy. Perhaps her birth signifies the end of the association between Toshimiru's direct line and the Yamanouchi School. It was my intent to let you see that the ashes of your friend were treated with respect, and that her name and her sacrifice for Yamanouchi were properly honored. Now, for your new task. Follow me.

The old man led her back out of the hollow and down the corridor. He closed the door, leaving Yori to marvel at the workmanship that allowed it to close and leave no clue that it was anything other than a section of wall. He then led her out of the mausoleum and to the infirmary.

"You will assist in caring for your friend's remains," Master Sensei announced.

"Master Sensei, I do not understand," she confessed. "If Junso's ashes are interred..."

"I spoke of her remains," the old man interrupted her. "You are speaking of her ashes."

Yori was even more confused, but knew better than to question further when her master had already corrected her once. Instead, she followed Master Sensei through the infirmary and into the nursery. There, still, it was bright and cheery, despite the fact that the Han was napping.

"I believe that an elderly man can deal with an infant for several minutes," he told the two attendants/guardians in the room. The young ninjas took the hint and excused themselves. For what seemed a long time, Master Sensei looked at the baby, sleeping peacefully in her crib. It had never been easy to read the old man's emotions; any expressions that got by his discipline couldn't always get past his facial hair, yet they seemed even more an enigma than usual.

"The Han is truly all that remains of your friend," Master Sensei finally declared. "So it seems fit that you will assist in her care. Her name is Hana and you will stay here, learning of her care for the next four hours. When you return to your quarters, you will see that your duty and training schedules have been altered to allow you to join in her care. Do you understand?"

"No, I don't," she admitted, showing that she realized that there was more to her master's question than merely Hana's care. "I may be being honored, or I may be being punished. I confess that I do not know which."

"There is not always a distinction between the two," Master Sensei told her. "Nor should there always be. You broke a sacred law of Yamanouchi, in which students are not allowed to harm each other intentionally, nor are they allowed to damage Yamanouchi's property. Yet, rules are guidelines. There are times when a ninja must break the rules."

Now, Yori had no trouble reading the old man's emotions. He was both sad, and proud of her.

"And, most importantly, there are times when a young student can teach elderly masters necessary lessons."

"So then Bonnie tells me that the squad isn't going to have a mascot anymore," Ron concluded. "So it looks like I'm out of my only extracurricular activity. Zombie bashing just doesn't count."

"Man, that's cold," Felix noted. Of course, the shoe-in for class valedictorian was crushing Ron when it came to zombie killing. It's not that Ron was bad at it; in fact, he was pretty good. Felix was on another level.

"At least it doesn't take effect until the end of the school year," Ron added. "I put in most of the semester as the mascot, so I get credit for it. Even though Bonnie said she doesn't want me coming to meetings or practices. I guess I get a P.E. credit and an extracurricular credit for only putting in most of the semester as the Mad Dog."

"You sound bummed out," Felix noted. "I thought you didn't like being the mascot all that much."

"You know, it started out that way," Ron admitted. "But after awhile, it kind of grows on you. Getting the crowd into it, finally getting a routine right, pulling off a really hard double-flip move...you start to like to do it."

"And you get to hang out with some pretty girls," Felix added, with a knowing smirk.

"Ya know, that wasn't as much fun as you'd think," Ron told him. "I mean, I always knew that saying that Bonnie wasn't nice was sort of like saying that the ocean isn't dry. But I was surprised by how mean most of the squad could be by not being mean at all."

"Okay, you're using Ron logic here," Felix told him.

"It means that they could be mean not by saying nasty things or insulting me, but by pretending that I didn't even exist," Ron clarified, giving his friend a little bit of a dirty look for the shot. "Look, I wasn't expecting hugs and high-fives, but you'd think that someone besides Kim, Tara or Crystal would actually say hi in the hallway or the lunchroom. No, except for those three, I was invisible or something."

He heaved a heavy sigh. "And after putting up with all of that, Kim quits the cheer squad to spend more time with...Eric...then the rest of them vote out the mascot position. You'd think they would have kept me around just for the points in the competitions."

"I'm supposed to say something to the effect that if they treat you this way, you're better off without them," Felix told him, setting aside his controller. "But that's not the case, is it? You're going to have to find another activity for next year, preferably one that involves athletics, or you're going to have to take gym class again."

"Yeah, this hasn't been my best day," Ron sighed again. "And what's worse, there's something going on with me, as well."

"Oh?" Felix asked him. "What kind of going on are we talking about, the physiological kind because Kim ditched you for the construct, or something physical?"

"Both," Ron couldn't help but smile a little, despite being bummed. There was something about Felix coming out and facing the issues directly that made them easier for him to deal with. "Anyway, nobody else knows about this, so here goes."

He set his controller aside and started unlacing his sneakers.

"Whoa, dude!" Felix sounded like he was half serious and half humorous. "Just how extensive are we talking? We're friends, but there's a limit to it."

"It's just the socks and shoes," Ron assured him.

"Okay, but if it's some sort of sentient fungus, I'm gonna hurl."

"Nothing that dire," Ron assured him. He finished his minor disrobing and held up his feet.

"That doesn't look too bad," Felix said, upon seeing his altered feet. "Of course, now that I think of it, I've never seen your feet until now. So how far off of normal is this?"

"I used to have normal feet," Ron told him. "Now, I can actually hold things with my feet. I can't type or do anything complicated, but this isn't normal."

"So what caused it?"

"I don't know," Ron admitted, pulling his socks back on. "Over the years I've helped out Kim, I've been exposed to chemicals, radiation, even mystical forces. I have no idea what caused this."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not at all," Ron shrugged. "I never would have noticed it if...I hadn't noticed it."

"Okay, you're lucky that this game controller is expensive," Felix told him, picking said device back up.

"Why's that?" Ron was puzzled.

"And you say Possible can be blind," Felix shook his head. "Do you realize that you're complaining about having painless, somewhat useful alterations to your feet to a guy who's legs don't work?"

"I..." Ron was caught aback at that. "Sorry, but I forget that you're in the wheelchair."

"Okay, I'll take that as a compliment," Felix showed some false irritation.

At least Ron hoped it was false.

"So, let's get back to your real issue," Felix suggested. "You need an extracurricular activity. Now, I've noticed something about you."

"That whoa goes both ways," Ron warned him. "We're friends, but there's a limit."

"Relax, knucklehead," Felix's smile was back full force. "Put your shoes on and check this out." The teen genius picked up a keyboard and accessed some files while Ron did as instructed.

"Okay, I got some footage from some of your missions from Wade," Felix explained. "And I decided to compare it to some footage of other physical activity as a way to test some software."

"Where did you get the software?" Ron asked.

Felix just looked at him.

"Okay, you developed the software yourself, and you were giving it a test," Ron concluded.

"You got it," Felix now concentrated on the screen, that had recently displayed zombies being destroyed. "Here's one when you were trying to stop that blue guy from using a doomsday machine."

"That really doesn't narrow it down very much," Ron told him. "That's kind of our every-other-week hobby." His expression got dark. "Or it used to be, before..."

"Doesn't matter," Felix interrupted him. "I'm comparing it to a college football game."

"You know, I've always wondered how Wade managed to get video footage from our missions inside of secret lairs."

"Not important," Felix brushed away his musings. "I was wondering how the athletic prowess that you and Possible showed on your missions stacked up against more traditional athletic competition, so I came up with software that would compare speed, acceleration, change of direction, reaction time, you name it. Now, take a look."

"I'm seeing a football game on one half of the screen," Ron told him. "And me running away from henchmen on the other half."

"Yeah, but you're showing equal or superior speed, reaction time and elusiveness that the college football player," Felix told him.

"I'm not getting how this ties in to me needing an extracurricular," Ron confessed.

"Knucklehead," Felix shook his head. "Ron, that's the national championship game and you're showing superior athletics to the running backs and receivers. Now, imagine putting that athleticism and reaction time onto a high school football field."

"Hey, I know that I'm no genius," Ron protested. "But there's a lot more to football that being fast and dodging. You have to know the game and fit into the team. I've never played it."

"I'm ahead of you," Felix smirked. "Your very own nemesis, Mr. B, is running a football camp this Summer."

"Oh no!" Ron told him. "I'm almost done with him for the school year. Why would I want to spend the summer with the guy?"

"It's only for a few weeks," Felix pointed out. "And for a few hours each day. He'll have plenty of other people to yell at while you're with him. Think of it; you learn the game, get the basics, impress Barkin and set yourself up to have an extracurricular activity next year. Not only that, if you make the team, Bonnie will have to cheer for you."

"Oh, the revenge angle," Ron stroked his chin. "Nice play. Still, those are big guys out on the field. I don't like large people mad at me."

"Bigger than the henchmen and supervillains you face?" Felix shook his head. "News flash, Stoppable; high school football players don't carry swords, ray guns, explosives and various other odd weapons onto the field. You're going to be safer there than doing your missions."

"You know, I'm really disappointed in you," Ron grumbled.

"Why's that?"

"I was looking forward to a lazy Summer," Ron told him. "Not only do you suggest intense physical activity, you come up with good reasons to do so. Next you're going to suggest I get a job."

"Okay, since we're on the subject..."

Ron face-palmed. So much for being lazy.

A/N: As always, fond thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for beta reading.