The citizens of Vocabula prepared for their annual picnic. Unbeknownst to them, something sinister loomed which would endanger their quiet town.
Meanwhile, at a café inside the secret headquarters of the Grammar Allies Guild, a group of uncelebrated heroes enjoyed lunch.
“Oh no, he’s here.” The Librarian peered over the spectacles perched on the tip of her nose.
“Who?” Dewey inquired, a blob of tapioca dangling from his lip.
“The Captain,” she retorted. “He’s coming this way.”
Captain Thesaurus sauntered toward them. “Hello my friends, my comrades, my buddies.” He leaned against the table. “Miss Librarian, Mr. Decimal, how…” The table tipped. He staggered, falling against the giant Jell-o mold in the shape of an ampersand.
Dewey’s tapioca boat teetered; he tried to rescue it. The pudding dish squirted between his fingertips and spun across the table. Stopping on the ledge the coagulated dessert undulated for a moment before toppling over and spilling into the Librarian’s purse.
The Captain rushed back to the table, gelatin fragments bouncing everywhere. “I’m such a bungling, stumbling, incompetent…”
“We know.” Dewey surveyed the purse, trying to salvage some of his lost treat.
“How can I repay you, make amends, compensate you for your…”
An alarm chimed as a hidden panel opened revealing a large screen videophone.
A commotion buzzed through the cafeteria.
“Shhhhhhhh.” The Librarian’s call for quiet cut through the drone of the crowd.
The guild members gathered.
Captain Thesaurus wedged his way between his colleagues. “This must be important, grandiose, exceptional…”
“Please Captain,” The Librarian scolded.
“Thesaurus,” hissed a familiar voice. “I’m back!”
A simultaneous gasp erupted from the group. “Adjective Capone!”
“That’s ridiculous, absurd, preposterous.” The Captain stepped forward to address his comrades. “Adjective Capone was sent up the river, to the big house, the slammer…”
“Your feeble attempts to confine me were a miserable, laughable failure,” the villain chuckled.
“I’ll get you, my nemesis, my rival, my foe,” Thesaurus growled.
“Stop your incessant, incoherent babbling.” He leaned forward, as if to poke his head through the screen. “I want you to see something.” He pointed the camera to the side showing a young lady tied to a chair.
“Miss Vowel!” the Captain uttered. “Unhand her you barbarian, you beast, you fiend.”
“The beautiful, flaxen haired Veronica is an integral component in my brilliant and diabolical scheme.” The camera panned back. The chair sat balanced on a piece of wood projecting off the edge of a balcony, a large bucket sat beside her. “My trusty, ingenious device will drop thousands of tiny, colorful pebbles, one at a time, into the cold, steel container. Soon the board will tip, plunging this bound and helpless girl into the large, cast-iron vat full of deadly, molten pewter, causing it to spill and flood the town.”
“This is unconscionable, outrageous, horrific.”
“It’s you’re choice. Save the pretty, young, blonde and your precious Vocabularians, or capture me.”
A crowd gathered near the retired foundry. Captain thesaurus screeched to a stop on his synonym cycle. “Greetings citizens. Have you seen…” His bike teetered and fell over. “I’m okay, alright, unharmed.”
“You mean that creepy dude? He left.” A young boy stepped forward. “He told us to stay here and watch the show.”
“You must vacate this area, leave immediately, evacuate.” The Captain bounded inside. He scrambled up the stairs to the top floor. “Miss…Vowel,” he gasped, prying off his helmet.
“Why didn’t you take the elevator?” she whimpered. “We’re running out of time.”
The monotonous plink of the pebbles bouncing in the spittoon echoed in the building; the plank quivered under the tension.
“I have an idea, a thought, an epiphany.” The hero stepped closer. “I’ll throw my shoe and knock the pail over, cause it to spill, dislodge it.”
He pulled off his right shoe and launched the projectile.
“Ouch!” Veronica grimaced.
“I’m sorry, regretful, compunctious.” He pulled off his other sneaker.
“Please, be careful.” She ducked.
The Captain leaned forward and hurled the second shoe. It careened of the side off the container; the bucket wobbled, but didn’t fall. “I know,” he blurted. He grabbed his helmet and aimed.
“Oh no,” Veronica squealed.
The helmet sailed, smashing against its target. Little rocks rained over the lower floors of the factory.
With great care the adventurer pulled the damsel to safety and freed her.
She fell into his arms. “My hero.”
“When I’m on the job you need not be perturbed, apprehensive, overwrought.” He flashed his hero smile.
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