The Great Powers Outage (6 page)

NAME:
Red Menace, The.
POWER:
Able to bend all to his will and compel them to do his bidding.
LIMITATIONS:
His power can be overcome by sound thinking and common sense, making him practically invincible.
CAREER:
His attempt at total domination was ultimately thwarted by the League of Goodness.
CLASSIFICATION:
One of the most dangerous villains ever.

CHAPTER FIVE

Chipth in Clath

When I got to school on Monday morning all my classmates were carrying cans of AI's PseudoChips. They eagerly chatted among themselves, extolling the perfection of these stackable potato snacks.

“It'th a thientific fact that potato chipth tathte better when they're indithtinguithable from one another,” Melonhead was asserting as I took my seat. No one was paying any attention to him.

“I can stack 'em up and eat fifteen at a time,” Cannonball bragged as he proceeded to do just that.

“Now you can get even fatter in a fraction of the time,” I pointed out.

Cannonball glared at me, but his mouth was so full of chips he couldn't respond.

“Look, I've arranged mine like the petals of a flower,” Plasma Girl announced. Her chips were indeed laid out in a circle. Plucking one of the “petals” she raised it to her mouth. “I
do
love AI's Pseudo-Chips,” she said popping the chip into her mouth. She instantly reached down for another. “I
don't
love AI's Pseudo-Chips,” she declared, causing the class to let out a collective gasp before she ate that one as well.

“I
do
love AI's Pseudo-Chips,” she repeated as she ate a third chip. The class let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. “I just don't know
why
I love them so much,” she added in a low enough voice that only I heard.

Of course I knew why everyone loved them. It was because Comrade Crunch—I mean the Red Menace—had
everyone
in his power. Everyone, that is, except me. I was the only person I knew who hadn't gone head over heels for this bland new snack item. Sure, I had felt the lure of the Red Menace's power, but I always managed to break free of it.

“When did class time become snack time?” asked Miss Marble as she entered the room. There was almost always something that annoyed her first thing in the morning, and today it was a room full of kids munching on Pseudo-Chips.

“But they're irrethithtable, Mith Marble,” Melonhead spattered. “I don't think I can go a thingle, tholitary thecond without them.”

“I'd waste away to nothing,” insisted Cannonball.

“Me, too,” added Transparent Girl as she faded away to prove it.

“They make me stretchier,” Limber Lass piped in.

“They make me sleepier.” Somnia yawned as her head thunked onto her desk.

“And me bubblier!” Little Miss Bubbles giggled amid a bubbly eruption.

“What has gotten into you kids?” Miss Marble asked in exasperation. “The rules say no eating in class.”

“Then let'th change the ruleth!” Melonhead slobbered.

“Melonhead is right!” Tadpole said to my astonishment. It was the first time in memory that anyone had ever listened to Melonhead, let alone agreed with him. That was all the encouragement the drooling doofus needed as he stood up in defiance.

“The majority thould dethide, and the majority wanth to have chipth in clath.

“Chipth in clath! Chipth in clath! Chipth in clath!” He began leading the entire class in a chant. Miss Marble was taken aback by it all and clearly didn't know how to respond. But as the Banshee joined in the ruckus with a high-pitched shriek, Miss Marble gathered her wits, and moments later the wailing and protesting was silenced as my classmates and I went as stiff as statues thanks to Miss Marble's power.

“I don't know what the big deal is with these chips,” Miss Marble said.

Finally! Someone else who hadn't fallen under the sway of the Red Menace.

“But it's funny that you mention majority rules. You see, the planned lesson for this morning is on just that subject. You are correct that in a democracy the majority does indeed make the rules. Of course, the mistake you've made is assuming that when you're in school you're part of a democracy.”

As she was saying this, she walked up and down the rows of desks plucking one canister of chips after another out of my classmates' unresisting grasps.

“You'll have plenty of time as adults to make moronic decisions in the voting booth. Politicians will lie outright to you and you'll believe them. They'll get caught, lie to you again, and you'll still turn around and reelect them. You'll vote for people not because they're competent or have your interests in mind, but because they have the same favorite color as you.”

I would have considered this insulting if it weren't true. She was silent for a moment as she dumped all the chip canisters she had collected into the bottom drawer of her desk.

“People are naturally gullible and will believe almost anything they're told,” she continued. “There is nothing I can teach you here that will change that sad fact. The Superopolis Board of Education has never thought it necessary to include lessons for their students on how not to be suckers.”

The stiffness throughout my body began to fade.

“But what we
will
teach you is how this idiotic process works,” she said sarcastically as motion slowly returned to my classmates. “With the upcoming mayoral election going on, it seems like a natural waste of time to stage our own class elections.”

Despite his rigidity, Melonhead spotted an opportunity to promote himself, and creakily rose to his feet.

“If I'm chothen ath clath prethident, I'll change the ruleth to allow the Amathing Indethtructo'th Amathing Theudo-Chipth in thchool!”

“I nominate Melonhead as class president!” Cannonball announced even as he strained to elbow his best friend, Lobster Boy.

“Uh, I second the nomination,” Lobster Boy said, as he stiffly raised his claw to follow Cannonball's lead.

“And he's nominating me for vice president,” Cannonball added.

“I am?” Melonhead sputtered. He turned to look at Cannonball, who glared at him threateningly. “Uh, yeah, I gueth I'm nominating Cannonball ath my running mate.”

After another elbow from Cannonball, Lobster Boy seconded the nomination.

“Melonhead as class president?!” Tadpole uttered in disgust. Apparently, he had gotten over his earlier moment of support. “That would be a disaster.”

I agreed, especially with Cannonball on the same ticket. There was only one solution.

“I nominate Tadpole for president,” I shouted. Plasma Girl immediately seconded the nomination.

“I'll run for vice president,” volunteered the Spore eagerly. No one paid any attention, and a moment later, we chose Plasma Girl as Tadpole's running mate.

“Very good.” Miss Marble clucked approvingly. “But none of you really needs to worry about whom actually wins. The class president has no power whatsoever—not that it will stop any of you from thinking that this is the most important election of your lives.”

She was right about that. The rest of the period was taken up with choosing candidates for other meaningless offices. Transparent Girl joined Melonhead's ticket as their candidate for class treasurer, a position that would oversee the class fish food fund. At the moment it consisted of a jelly jar that held exactly twenty-three cents and two pencil stubs. To my surprise, Stench nominated me as our party's candidate for the post.

The Spore had volunteered both times to be treasurer, but everyone ignored him.

We then added Little Miss Bubbles as our nominee for secretary, a job that involved doing absolutely nothing as far as any of us could tell. The Spore raised his hand frantically in an attempt to be nominated as the opposing candidate, but Cannonball didn't even see him. Instead, he nominated Somnia for that vital role while she dozed at her desk unaware. Somnia's ability to put people to sleep made her the perfect candidate for this position.

“So we have our candidates,” Miss Marble said.

“What about me?” wailed the Spore, looking like he might undergo meiosis.

“There are no other offices to fill,” she apologized.

“Nothing?” he wailed as Miss Marble looked exasperated.

“Oh, fine,” she finally answered. “You can run for . . . class coroner.”

The rest of the class was shocked, but the Spore couldn't have been more pleased. Needless to say, no one wanted to run against him for that office.

With the slates all set, we gathered into groups to develop campaign strategies. By the time the bell rang for recess, the excitement of a class election was in full swing.

It wasn't until after we all left the room that I realized I hadn't asked Miss Marble how she and I appeared to be the only people not affected by the commands of the Red Menace. I turned around to go back into the classroom but came to a sudden halt in the doorway. Unaware of my presence, Miss Marble had opened up her bottom drawer and retrieved one of the confiscated canisters. She was eagerly and happily stuffing the chips into her mouth.

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