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Is Melvin Beederman DOOMED?
Mysterious threatening e-mails, a sad sidekick, and . . . country music? Melvin Beederman and his partner in uncrime, Candace, are really in trouble. Once again someone is out to get them, and this time not even the Superhero's Code can save Melvin from a terrible bologna-filled plight. Candace alone can rescue him?if only she can remember the country singer's motto: "When all else fails, sing about your dog."
Is Melvin Beederman DOOMED?
Mysterious threatening e-mails, a sad sidekick, and . . . country music? Melvin Beederman and his partner in uncrime, Candace, are really in trouble. Once again someone is out to get them, and this time not even the Superhero's Code can save Melvin from a terrible bologna-filled plight. Candace alone can rescue him—if only she can remember the country singer's motto: "When all else fails, sing about your dog."
Melvin Beederman has launched himself as a flying success with kids and adults alike. And the sky is the limit with this fourth book!
A High-Tech Threat
Superhero Melvin Beederman was minding his own business, doing what he did second-best. What he did best, of course, was save the world, chase down bad guys, make the city of Los Angeles a better place to live. But he wasn't doing that. He was doing his second-best activity—hanging out in his tree house hideout, eating pretzels with his pet rat Hugo and watching his favorite TV show—The Adventures of Thunderman. Thunderman and his assistant Thunder Thighs also saved the world. In every single episode. Watching them always inspired Melvin to do his job a little better.
When the show was over, Melvin decided to check his email before starting his day.
"I think I'll go save the world," he said to Hugo.
"Squeak," Hugo said in reply.
This either meant, "You do that, kind sir." Or maybe it was, "Are you sure you don't want to have a pushup contest?"
Melvin was never sure what Hugo was saying. Though he had once been fluent in gerbil, talking to a rat was another story. He turned on his computer and found only one email waiting for him. But it was a doozy.
I'm coming to get you, Melvin Beederman. Don't try hiding. I know all your tricks and your weaknesses. And when I find you, you'll be toast! Smashed-beneath-my-feet toast.
your loving enemy,
SC P.S. Consider yourself doomed
SC? Melvin didn't know any SC. He caught bad guys for a living, it was true. So there were plenty of people who wanted revenge. But who was SC? Melvin thought over some of his recent battles. Joe the Bad Guy? No, wrong initials. The McNasty Brothers? No, couldn't be.
Melvin looked at the return address of the email for a clue
"Holy mystery!" Melvin said out loud. "This ain't good."
Holy mystery indeed. It wasn't (narrators never say "ain't").
There was only one thing to do, Melvin decided. He had to talk it over with his partner in uncrime, Candace Brinkwater. He always felt better talking to Candace. Unlike Melvin, who was an orphan and had graduated from the Superhero's Academy, Candace lived in a normal house with her family. She was not from the Academy. She was just a girl with whom Melvin had divided his cape. As they say, two superheroes are better than one. And Los Angeles was happy to have both of them.
"See you later, Hugo," Melvin said as he moved to the door of the tree house.
"Squeak," Hugo replied, which either meant, "Go get 'em, tiger" or "How do you spell kumquat?"
Melvin wasn't sure. And right now he was too distracted to think about it. Someone was out to get him, and he had to find out who. "Up, up, and away," he said as he jumped out the door.
Crash! He hit the ground hard.
That was the thing about Melvin Beederman. He hardly ever got off the ground in one try.
He brushed himself off and tried again. "Up, up, and away."
And again. Thud!
Once more. Kabonk!
On the fifth try he was up and flying. He flew over the city toward Candace Brinkwater's house. As he flew, he looked down at the people of Los Angeles. Melvin didn't know how to turn off his x-ray vision, so instead of seeing people dressed for work, he saw them in their underwear. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Disgusting, he said to himself. Too disgusting for words. It was even too disgusting for punctuation!
! ! ? ? . . , , " ' ! ? # % ! ! & @ ? ?
See? That didn't help at all.
Copyright &169; 2007 Greg Trine
This text is from an uncorrected proof