Sportacus pulled the crank on the mail chute. Thwoomp! It rocketed a metal canister straight up towards the airship. He rubbed the aching muscles in his arm. This was the twenty-eighth or twenty-ninth mail tube he'd launched so far. It was hard to keep count when this headache wouldn't let up for one second.

Too many questions crowded his thoughts clamoring one over the other. It seemed safe to assume that Robbie had something to do with this, but where was he now, if not in body but in mind? Could he be inside Sportacus' body at this very moment? Was this part of one of Robbie's schemes? Was it… supposed to be like this? It was hard to believe that Robbie would just allow his own body to be controlled by someone else, least of all by Sportacus. Would he switch them back soon? Could he switch them back?

Better not to think about all of it at once. First thing's first. Sportacus pushed through the fatigue in the lanky limbs and readied the next canister. He raised his face to the sky, squinting through the spots crowding his vision from the sun. Everything in his body— Robbie's body— wanted him to just lie down somewhere and close his eyes. The last time he'd felt anything like this was during one of his sugar meltdowns. Only this time, he was afraid an apple wouldn't fix it so easily.

"Robbie Rotten, what are you sending all those letters to Sportacus for?"

Sportacus turned at the question and let out a sigh of relief. Trixie, Stephanie, and Stingy had found him. "Kids, thank goodness. If I can send up enough of these letters it should overload the airship's ballast and trigger the autopilot to land." He gestured at the pile of tubes still waiting to be sent. "I could really use some help."

Stephanie shared a look with Stingy while Trixie cocked an eyebrow. "Why would we help you do something like that?" Trixie asked.

"What do you want with the airship?" Stephanie asked.

"Leave it alone, Robbie, or we'll tell Sportacus what you're up to," Stingy said, and the girls nodded alongside him.

"But I am Sportacus," Sportacus said, raising a hand to his chest. Where he could always expect to feel the casing for his crystal however there were only the buttons on Robbie's vest and a few links of the pocket chain.

"Yeah, right," Trixie said, rolling her eyes, "sure you are, Sportafake. You're getting lazier than ever, Robbie, you didn't even put on a disguise this time."

"No, really," Sportacus insisted. He couldn't blame them for not believing him when he could barely believe it himself. He certainly couldn't explain it. But could he show them? "I'll prove it to you!"

"This oughtta be good," Stingy muttered, making Trixie snicker. Stephanie kept a straight face but crossed her arms. Sportacus stepped away from the mailbox until he had plenty of room. He shook out his hands and feet and took a breath.

Sportacus crouched into a deep squat. The position made his back twinge sharply, muscles protesting. He ignored it. In one explosive motion he sprung, pumping his arms and swinging his legs to execute a backward flip.

He immediately regretted it. His legs cramped with Charlie horses, his arms overextended and set off stitches across his ribs, and his back contracted into one enormous knot. Sportacus uttered an anguished cry and hit the ground hard.

"Wipe out," Trixie said. To her credit she didn't laugh.

The kids came closer to check on him. Sportacus scraped his palms against the sidewalk as he struggled to rise. The wind had been knocked out of him and for a moment all he could do was catch his breath. He should have known better than to try something that physically taxing in Robbie's body. The man practically creaked when he walked, never mind jumping and flipping.

Trixie and Stephanie took him by one arm each and helped to pull him up. Sportacus winced as they unfolded him from the floor. Once he was on his feet he didn't dare try to straighten his back all the way, rubbing it gingerly. He might have bruised his tailbone on that one.

"Are you okay, Robbie?" Stephanie asked.

"I'm..." Not Robbie. "I'm not sure." The scorn had gone from the children's faces, but it wasn't replaced with any sort of recognition or belief. So much for that gambit.

Stephanie gave his arm a gentle tug. "Come on, you'd better sit down." She led him away from the mailbox, taking small steps to accommodate Sportacus' tender shuffle.

"Don't feel too bad," Stingy said, "but maybe you should leave the stunts to Sportacus." Sportacus grunted, nursing not only a sore body but some injured pride now too. He was a highly trained athlete, an expert acrobat, and now he could barely move at all.

They took him to a bench and set him down. Sportacus shuffled and shifted, unable to get comfortable as the pressure on his spine flared in hot spikes. If only he could get hold of some cold compresses, maybe a hot pack, and stretch out on his bed.

"I have to get up there," Sportacus mumbled.

"You're still trying to get into the airship?" Trixie shook her head. "Just give up, man. Haven't you learned by now to keep your feet on the ground?"

"Why not give it a rest for one day?" Stingy suggested. "You look like you could use it."

"I guess," Sportacus said. He rubbed his stinging palms over his stiff knees. "It doesn't seem like I have much choice." He lowered his head, too weary to keep it up anymore. All of that work sending the mail tubes and then his disastrous tumbling routine had completely sapped him of energy. The desire to lie down was stronger than before. He could use a nap, or maybe some sportscandy.

The kids kept watching him. Stephanie rested a light hand on his shoulder and spoke in a tentative tone. "Hey, I know what might cheer you up. Pixel said he would try to fix your headband for you, and then you can have it back, as long as you promise it's not part of some trick."

Sportacus raised his head a few degrees. "My what, now?"

"You know, that silly thing you were wearing before," Stingy said. "If you don't want it anymore, though, I'll take it for you."

"Oh, right," Sportacus said. He scratched his head where his temples had been singed the worst by the device. He never should have taken it off, what if it was the only way for Robbie to reverse what had happened? What if it wasn't as broken as it had looked? He lurched to his feet, hissing through his teeth from the strain in his back. "Where did you say it was now? No one should touch it."

"Too late for that," Trixie said. "Pixel's probably taken the whole thing apart by now."

Sportacus sat right back down. What good would running to Pixel's house do him now? Not that he could run in his current condition. He'd learned his lesson not to push himself too hard lest he get even more badly hurt. Something persistent and sharp gnawed at his stomach besides his cramped muscles. One thing at a time, first thing's first…

"I need that headband," Sportacus said. He tried to keep the tension out of his face as he looked at the kids. His nose wouldn't stop twitching and it tightened the muscles around his mouth. "Get it for me, please."

"Sure, Robbie," Stephanie said. "We'll see if Pixel's done with it yet."

"Great," Sportacus said, slumping back on the bench, relaxing a fraction. "Thank you."

The kids left him there, heading towards the part of town where Pixel lived.

"He really is off his nut today," Trixie said. "Did you hear him say 'please' and 'thank you?' I wish I'd gotten that on tape."

"He didn't say anything about the ray gun," Stingy said. "Does that mean I can have it?"