Heroes Come Back: The Sugar Incident: Chapter 3


In WordPress there exists an ancient theatre dedicated to the publication of the performing arts. That and the annual sheep throwing contest. Redesigned to throwing robotic sheep after animal rights activists formed a three-week protest. Though at present, there is a new band of activists driving for their new cause of Cruelty Against Robotic Sheep (C.A.R.S.).           

The theatre is more commonly known as the ‘Billy Goat Theatre’ after little Billy brought his father’s goat in for show and tell and it led a rampage through the main square. But it did prove his point that the goat really didn’t like carrots. More importantly it was here where the cities rich residents and imposters pretending to be rich gathered to view the Nativity each winter.           


“I have a question.”           

From his pocket, DroSensei drew a white handkerchief and began to polish his monocle. “What exactly would that be, Reflex?”           

“Why am I the one wearing the dress?”           

“I’m tired of being portrayed as the feminine figure in our group. That and me and Mudshovel drew longer straws.”           

“But I can feel an uncomfortable breeze.”           

DroSensei placed the monocle back onto his eye before he addressed him again. “Keep your voice down.” he warned in a hushed voice,” you will draw attention to us. If that happens then all our preparations will be for nothing. We didn’t go through months of wrenches, being thrown into bottomless pits and flamingo dancing just to fail in this mission.”           

“Still I don’t see why I have to wear a dress. A tuxedo would have sufficed.”           

“The dress suits you.”           

“R-really? Reflex paused. A loud whack echoed across the theatre moments later.           

Opposite to their balcony a man nudged his partner and cocked his head towards them. The second male nodded in a silent agreement.           

Reflex held his pair of opera glasses in front of his eyes but his vision was directed elsewhere. “DroSensei,” he said under his breath. DroSensei tilted his head in a silent response to continue. “Those men. The men in the trench coats. They are not Arnold Mammasboy’s men, right?”           

DroSensei bent low pretending to tie his laces as he inspected the men. “No.” He frowned at their sunglasses. Who wore sunglasses this time of year and in a dark theatre? “They’re watching us?”           

“At times. But they seem to be focusing on Mr Mammasboy too.”           

Didn’t anyone just come to watch the nativity? Well maybe the elderly man who was forced to attend so he could watch his son star as the little donkey. His son was an ass after all..           

The lobby became crowded for intermission. Behind the counter of the bar, Mudshovel wore a waist apron and was serving the customers who wanted to wash the memory of that horrible, horrible acting from their minds.           

Mudshovel casually walked over to a rather irritated looking couple arguing quietly amongst themselves. Along the way he picked up a glass and began to dry it with a rag as he walked. “What is the order?”           

Reflex pulled out a paper fan from his cardigan and pouted. “I shall take a stroll, dear,” adding the last word venomously.           

“That dress really suits him.” DroSensei grinned back at him agreeing. “So what have you found out?” Mudshovel lowered his voice.           

“Mr Mammasboy doesn’t seem to have any of the documents on him. He did however make a mobile phone call during the performance and scratch him butt. But we have concluded that the files are hidden somewhere in his manor.”           

Mudshovel chewed on his lip trying to digest this. “You will return to monitor him further when the second half of the performance begins. I will try to gain more information from the staff about his preferences.”           

Mudshovel finished what he was saying as the two men in their trench coats took a seat on the stools by the counter. “A pink vodka then, sir?” he asked DroSensei.           

“Indeed. Wait, what? Where did Flexy-dear go?” The two turned to see Reflex sat on a leather couch with an obese, red-faced male leaning close to him.           

“Say, why don’t we leave the theatre now baby and I’ll take you back to my place and show you what a good time really is,” Mr Mammasboy promptly winked seductively at a grossed out Reflex. Though, his attempt at winking looked more like a severe twitch that made his balding head scrunch up like a raisin.           

Reflex stared desperately at his comrades, but they were too busy trying to muffle their laughter in their sleeves to be of any assistance. So Reflex was led from the theatre by Mr Mammasboy.           


It was midday as Mudshovel and DroSensei took a seat in a quant little café in the main square. They were halfway through their cup of tea when Reflex arrived in a tuxedo carrying a brief case.           

“You know, Reflex? It wouldn’t have killed you to have dressed down a tad,” Mudshovel said conversationally as he sipped his tea.           

Reflex glared angrily at them both as he took a seat.           

“So… What did you do last night, Reflex? ‘Cause I am pretty sure that it might have gotten awkward if the clothes were removed,” DroSensei asked trying to make a conversation. What he did manage to do, was make Mudsovel choke on his tea.           

“Actually, we spent the night playing Scrabble,” Reflex replied icily and asked the waitress for a cup of tea.           

“Jezz, I don’t know whose idea that would have been for a ‘good time’.”           

“Can you both get serious?” he snapped. Mudshovel and DroSensei smirked evilly as they drank their tea. Throughout the square people emerged from shops carrying Christmas presents. Some of whom could be heard fighting over the last selection box. How were they ment to give a cheap gift that looked expensive if they didn’t get that?  An ice-cream truck was heard going down the street until its siren disappeared.  Once the waiter left a cup of tea and a croissant on the table, Reflex lifted his briefcase onto the table. “While I was at Arnold’s manor last night, I managed to take something you both might find interesting.”          


“Reflex, please! We don’t want to see his underpants,” DroSensei said dramatically.           

“That.is.IT!” Reflex threw himself across the table trying to strangle DroSensei. Beside them, Mudshovel was gripping his sides as he laughed loudly. After the crowd finally managed to drag them both apart and the manager scolded them angrily, Reflex and DroSensei sat down at the table again.           

Reflex ran his hand through his dark brown hair and continued. “Well I came across this,” Reflex pulled a sealed file from his briefcase. On further annalist the file read:    



 “You know? I get this feeling that someone doesn’t want us to read it… Maybe we shouldn’t,” Both Mudshovel and Reflex ignored DroSensei.          

“This is brilliant. We now have an idea of what we are facing here!” Mudshovel rejoiced. As the three began to lean closer to the file an odd object on a rope appeared, sticking to the centre of it.          

“What is that?”          

“It looks like a plunger….”          

“You don’t think…?”          

“DAMN IT!”          

Before the group could hold the file down it flew off the table and across toward the street.          

The three jumped to their feet turning toward where the file took off. “Isn’t that an ice-cream truck pulling the file towards it?” Reflex asked narrowing his eyes.          

“”I told you, Mudshovel that ice-cream trucks were evil!” DroSensei yelled.          

“You dill! Get off your date and catch that truck!” Mudshovel cried out sprinting toward their jeep. Reflex took off next pulling out the keys.          

“WAIT! YOU MUST PAY YOUR BILLS!” DroSensei froze as he turned his head to look at the angry waitress. Couldn’t she see the emergency? “How much?”          

“You must pay theirs too!” she said pointing to Reflex and Mudshovel. Typical.          


“Where are they now?” DroSensei called out to Mudshovel and Reflex as he overtook another car on a side road. He was a dangerous driver and liked it.          

“Five cars ahead, heading towards the motorway,” Reflex yelled back over the roar of the wind. Reflex was in the middle of hanging outside of the jeep’s window, holding onto the bar running across the roof as he tried to get a better aim at the van. “Mudshovel are you ready yet?” Reflex fired another load of ammunition at the van but missed hitting the fairy lights. He ducked him head just in time to avoid a rain of coloured glass. So pretty; he thought with sparkling eyes.          

“Almost.” Mudshovel was holding tight onto the roof with his clothes whipping wildly around his body. “We get only one try at this. If we miss you’re going to be badly injured if not dead. So are you ready, Reflex?”          

“To die? Sure why not. Hey lets throw DroSe-,” Reflex was cut off as both him and Mushovel were forced to press themselves closer to the jeep as they entered a tunnel.          

“Tunnel guys,” DroSensei called half heartedly.  Reflex and Mudshovel narrowed their eyes. “We’ll be exiting the tunnel in ten seconds so be ready.”    

“How about we put another shrimp on the barbie, when we get home?”

“Now is hardly the time to be thinking about food, Mudshovel!” Reflex called over to him.

“There’s always time!”

“Not this time!”

“We’ll see about that,” he yelled shaking his fist.

“Would you both focus!” DroSensei yelled desperately.

Mudshovel leaned forward on the jeep as the light at the end of the tunnel began to come into sight. Ready. The wind whipped through his clothes. Set. He closed his eyes against the light. GO. Mudshovel let go of the metal bars of the jeep and flew backward. Twisting through the air he transformed into a giant hawk and glided over the tarmac. It just brushed his stomach. Launching into the sky he turned back in the direction of the jeep. Noticing his approach, Reflex swallowed the bile in his mouth before pressing his feet against the jeep door and launching himself into the air too.         

Come on, Mudshovel! The ground below began to seem closer. Mudshovel, hurry up! He was passing by the upper motorway towards the ground below. MUDSHOVEL! Moments before he hit the ground a pair of talons gripped onto the back of his blazer. “You took too long, bastard!” He yelled at the hawk holding onto him. Mudshovel cawed before focusing in on a certain ice-cream van. Reflex lifted his arm to his eyes trying to block out the wind burning them.        


Inside the ice-cream van the driver looked into his rear view mirror. “Er… You may want to take a look at this…”         

The passenger sighed. “What has went wrong now?” He looked in the mirror. “Ah yes, that may prove to be a problem.”        

“Will you handle it or will I?”        

“Honestly you’re the driver. Focus on the road.” He pulled on a pair of gloves. “I’ll teach them why I can be shocking.”        

“That was a terrible pun. Don’t ever use it again.”     




The ice-cream swerved dangerously below them. Who is driving that thing!? Mudshovel wondered as he dropped closer. Reflex held out his arms as he caught hold of the van’s back doors with his cobwebs. Everything was going as planned. Surprising, seeing as they made this up in five minutes. Mudshovel released him as he drew himself closer to the van. As he latched himself onto the door it suddenly swung open.        

Reflex eyes widened as he looked across at one of the men who was wearing a trench coat last night grinning mischievously at him. The man reached over and gripped tightly onto the collar of the Reflex’s shirt. Wha–?  Reflex screamed out loudly and let go of the van as a current of electricity was sent through his body. Shocking.       

Mudshovel cursed as his talons just missed the blazer on the unconscious Reflex. As he turned back he noticed a giant baseball glove holding Reflex at the side of a jeep. DroSensei’s got him. Relieved by this, Mudshovel transformed into an armed toy-sized plane. It’s on now! He fired loaded missiles in the direction of the van but each were met with a lightning bolt blowing them up along with more fairy lights tied to the lamp posts.

He was pleased to see that a look of frustration was on the man’s face now. Dodging a bolt of lightning he transformed into a dragon. After all, if he was going to have to do things himself he may at least do them over the top. Beads of cold sweat seemed to fall down the side of the man’s face now. His wings thundered loudly as he kept pace with the van.     

The man pressed both of his hands together as he directed his aim at Mudshovel. But before he could take his shot, Mudshovel sent a jet of flames at the van. The man lunged back into the shelter of the van and once the flames had faded the door was charred and black. 

The driver in the car behind was officially shitting himself by now. The man appeared again and shot a lightning bolt at Mudshovel catching him in the shoulder. He roared in pain and fury and caught the side of the van in a swift swing of his tail sending it leaning dangerously on its side wheels. From within the driver yelled out something angrily. 

Mudshovel felt the flames rise into his throat giving a warm sensation to his neck. As he opened his jaw he felt a sense of satisfaction fill him. This was drained just as quickly as it had appeared when the van overtook the car in front of it and the flames nearly toasted the mini behind. The driver behind was now hyperventilating.     

Angry at himself for forgetting the other vehicles on the motorway, Mudshovel threw his entire dragon weight against the ice-cream van leaving an impressive dent. Just before he could send another stream of flames at the van, his breath was drove from his lungs as he hit the wall beside another tunnel entrance. As his vision began to blur and his body transformed back to normal he could just manage to make out the figure of DroSensei coming towards him. Then there was darkness.     


   Weareawesomeness, Scenic Route, WordPress    

 The van screeched to a halt along a dirt track outside the main gates of Weareawesomeness. Moments later both doors flung open and two figured emerged looking rather ruffled. The one who emerged from the drivers seat kicked his door in anger only to have in collapsed off its hinges onto his feet. He groaned loudly and cursed as the less tanned of the two, Marksman, lit a cigar.   

“Well this is just fantastic,” said the one called Ahsan, sarcastically. “What are we meant to do now? The entire stock in the back of the van is either melting or damaged beyond repair!”   

“Stop your complaining,” said Marksman as he puffed out a cloud of smoke. “It’s your own fault we’re stuck in this position in the first place.”   

Ahsan paused as he watched Marksman circle the van inspecting the damage. He tapped the back tyre with his foot and jumped back when it collapsed without any bolts to hold it in place. “Pardon me?”   

Marksman chewed on the butt of the cigar. “Our orders were simple: Retrieve the documents. All you had to do was steal them from Mr Mammasboy. But no, the mighty Ahsan decides to take us to the theatre and we miss our opportunity. Then we are forced to retrieve them from three men. All of whom seem to have powers. But what does he do then once we finally have the documents? He drives us into rush hour traffic! The cleaners are going to have a field day trying to erase this mess. They’ll leave the paper work for us to do because of it.”   

“We got the job done, didn’t we?”      

 Marksman shrugged. “So what? We have three men that know our faces and know we want the information on the Sugar Removal. We also seem to have lost our licence plate in the getaway. That is enough information for those men to make a connection.”   

Ahsan nodded. “You ought to have just finished them off when you had the chance instead of showing off like a fairy. We weren’t there for games. But it doesn’t matter now. What are we going to do?”   

“Oh we make the call,” he replied activating his mobile phone.   

“D-don’t get to hasty,” Ahsan stammered. He was well aware of what it would mean to call them.     

Marksman ignored him and dialed the number. Moments later a voice was heard in the phone. “Weareawesomeness ice-cream delivery. How may we help you?” Ahsan fidgeted. It was the management.   

“Quit the theatrics, Tenrai Senshi and listen. I have some information for you.”   

By Eriin84 

Have A Happy New Year Everyone ^_^


~ by eatencookie on December 30, 2009.

7 Responses to “Heroes Come Back: The Sugar Incident: Chapter 3”

  1. 1st?!?

  2. This was AWESOME!

  3. YOSH!!! Awesomeness Cookie you really pulled out all the stops in this one and loved the introduction of new characters and powers. 😀 Lol, who would have though HE would be on the bad side? XD

  4. LOL! I arrived right at the end!!! YAY!!!

    Wait, am I evil? O___O

  5. awesome chap 😀 …. not because i was there >_> <_< lol
    any way hey guys ? i guess wassup 😀

  6. Years later I am reminded of this site and all you guys. Thanks for all the great memories friends.

  7. Dro! Y U no come back!?

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: