Shifty Business Page 2

  Jo had dreams that night, but they were anything but sweet. She dreamed that Frankenstein’s monster was after Kevin, Mitch, and David, and she had to rescue them, which was not easy, since every time she got close to the three boys, she felt weak. But in a dream anything can happen. She used her Knuckle Sandwich, then the Siberian Ear Tweak, and was just about to finish off the beast with the Russian Toe Hold, when he beat her to it. He grabbed her toe and began tugging. Tug, tug, tug. Tug, tug, tug.

  “Ow, ow, ow,” Jo said.

  Then she woke up and noticed that the string attached to her toe was doing the tugging. “It was all a dream,” she said to herself as she untied the string. At least Kevin, Mitch, and David were safe. “Raymond, wake up. Time to go catch bad guys.” Raymond opened a tired eye and ... yelped! He opened his other eye and double yelped as he backed away from Jo. He gave her a look that said, “Either you’re not Jo Schmo or someone whacked you with the ugly stick.”

  Jo went to her closet mirror for a look, and—

  Yelped! What she saw was not Jo Schmo at all. While she slept she had shape-shifted into Frankenstein’s monster, scars and all. She even had bolts in her neck. But she also had great hair. She had seventeen adorable freckles. And she had on her green pajama top that looked, well ... spectacular.

  Jo looked at Raymond, who was still cowering in the corner of the bedroom. “It’s me, Raymond. I shape-shifted. Let’s go show Grandpa.”

  Raymond gave her a look that said, “Who are you and what have you done with Jo Schmo?” Then he shot her another look. “By the way, nice hair.”

  “It’s me, Raymond,” Jo said again. “Let’s go.”

  Raymond followed Jo downstairs and out into the backyard. It sounded like the Jo he knew and loved, but he wasn’t sure.

  “Grandpa, it’s—”

  This is as far as she got. One look at the thing coming in the door and Grandpa yelped like ... Raymond. He backed himself into a corner and held his police radio up for protection.

  “Grandpa, it’s Jo. I shape-shifted while I was sleeping.”

  Grandpa Joe looked at Raymond for confirmation.

  Raymond gave him a look that said, “It sure sounds like her.”

  “Can you change back?” he said. “I mean, it looks like you’ve been hit with the ugly stick.”

  “I don’t know,” Jo said. “Maybe I should stay like this for a while. A superhero that looks like this is a very scary thing.”

  “Good point.” Grandpa Joe put the police radio down. “There’s a lot going on. Bank robbers, bar fights, drug deals, jewel thieves, terrorist plots, purse snatchers, home robberies, store break-ins, car thieves. This is more than a crime wave, Jo. It’s—”

  “A crime tsunami?”

  “Exactly,” Grandpa Joe said. “Go get ’em, Jo. Who are you going after first?”

  “That’s the great thing about crime tsunamis, Gramps,” Jo said as she and Raymond headed for the door. “I can take my pick.”

  Once outside, Jo and Raymond sprinted across the backyard and climbed onto the Schmomobile.

  A superhero who looked like Frankenstein’s monster was a scary thing. A superhero who looked like that while speeding down the sidewalk at sixty miles an hour was even scarier.

  6

  The Bad Guys (Girls)

  You might think that all bad guys are guys. Hence the phrase “bad guys.” This is not always true. It just sounds better than saying “bad guys and girls” and way better than saying “bad persons.” The fact is that some of the world’s most famous bad guys were, well, not exactly guys. Ever hear of Cruella de Vil, Ursula the Sea Witch, Betty Sludgefoot?

  During the Bad Guy and Evil Villain meeting in the abandoned warehouse district, as Numb Skull explained the details of how to create a crime tsunami, two girls sitting in the back were getting ideas. Their names were Zoey and Claire, and both of them were big fans of Cruella de Vil and Ursula the Sea Witch. They had no idea who Betty Sludgefoot was, but two out of three isn’t bad.

  “I’ve never been part of a crime tsunami before,” Zoey said.

  “Me neither,” Claire said.

  After the meeting, the two girls walked along the waterfront discussing what kind of crime to commit.

  “How about a late-night shopping spree?” Claire asked.

  Zoey put her hands on her hips. “What kind of crime is that?”

  “Depends on how late we go. All the stores will be closed. We break in and take what we want. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

  “Good point,” Zoey said. She despised shopping when it was crowded. She even hated Black Friday. “Come to think of it, I could use a new pair of jeans and some shoes.”

  “Uh-huh,” Claire said. “And we’ll probably have to steal a car so we’ll have a way to get around.”

  “And maybe rob a bank while we’re at it so we’ll have money to go on vacation with all our new clothes.”

  “Bermuda,” Claire suggested.

  “Or Mexico.”

  “Someplace with a beach.”

  “Exactly.”

  The two girls slapped a high-five, then they knuckle-bumped. “I like how we think,” said Claire.

  “So do I.” Zoey had gotten a D in thinking at school, but that was then ... this was now.

  Later that night Zoey and Claire crept out of the warehouse district, heading for the shopping district and the stealing-cars district. There wasn’t really a stealing-cars district. Anyplace would do. All you needed were cars and people willing to do the crime. But you get the idea.

  Zoey and Claire were willing. They really wanted new jeans and shoes—and a vacation. And they needed a car to make it happen.

  “How about that one?” Claire said, pointing.

  “Perfect,” Zoey said, reaching for her lock-picking tools.

  Minutes later they were driving down the street. Zoey was very tempted to let out her evil laugh, but she thought she’d wait until the plot thickened a little more. After all, stealing a car was just phase one in their evil plan. They still had much to do.

  Fortunately, the night was still young. There was plenty of time to steal the clothes, rob a bank, and go on vacation.

  7

  The Last National Bank

  Raymond had on his cape, which meant that as the Schmomobile raced toward downtown San Francisco, he drooled like no dog had ever drooled. He was a super dog and he was full of super drool. It made sense.

  Raymond looked up at Jo. “Where to, boss?” his look said.

  “Keep an eye peeled, Raymond. The first bad guy we come to gets it.”

  So began a night of catching bad guys. Talk about a crime tsunami. Bar fighters and purse snatchers, car thieves and terrorists. Jo Schmo got the best of them using her famous Knuckle Sandwich, and now and then the Siberian Ear Tweak and the Russian Toe Hold. Raymond watched from the sidelines and drooled a lot, thinking of pork chops and other tasty dog treats, which made him drool even more.

  Innocent bystanders were shocked to see Frankenstein’s monster fighting crime. The bad guys were even more shocked.

  “Yikes!” screamed a car thief.

  “Aaugh!” yelled a purse snatcher.

  “Let go of my toe!” cried a terrorist.

  It was a very busy night.

  By the time they caught up with Zoey and Claire, the two girls had already broken into several clothing stores and were now wearing brand-new jeans and shoes. They were also coming out of the Last National Bank of San Francisco, holding bags of cash. All they needed now was a vacation involving a beach, and their evil plan would be complete.

  But not if Jo Schmo could help it. She and Raymond were racing up in the Schmomobile.

  “Those two look guilty,” Raymond’s look said. He had an eye for guilty-looking people, especially ones who were coming out of the Last National Bank of San Francisco in the middle of the night, holding bags of cash. These two looked guilty all right—call it dog’s intuition.

  “Halt in
the name of—” Jo yelled, skidding to a stop.

  Halt in the name of what? This was the hardest part of superhero work. Jo Schmo never knew what to add after “Halt in the name of.” Halt in the name of fourth grade superheroes? Halt in the name of my Knuckle Sandwich? Halt out of the goodness of your heart?

  While Jo was trying to think of the proper ending to “Halt in the name of,” the bank robbers sped away in their stolen vehicle, and Raymond gave her a look that said, “You did it again, boss.”

  “Halt because I said so!” she yelled finally.

  But it was too late. Zoey and Claire were long gone. Or shortly gone. The point is that they were nowhere in sight.

  Jo hopped back on the Schmomobile and raced after them. She had a hunch where they might be headed. They were bad guys—the girl variety of bad guys—and they had to go someplace to count the loot, which is what you did after robbing a bank. And what better place to count loot than—

  “The abandoned warehouse district?” said Raymond’s look.

  “That’s my guess,” Jo said. She headed toward the abandoned warehouse district, steering with her elbows so she could crack her knuckles. She had to get ready. “Knuckle Sandwich, coming right up.”

  Not to mention the Siberian Ear Tweak and the Russian Toe Hold.

  8

  Monster Chase

  Renowned newspaperman Jasper “Scoop” Johnson sat in Margie’s Diner at the edge of the abandoned warehouse district, pencil in hand, waiting for his next big story. He had no idea that a crime tsunami was starting up, but he was keeping his eyes peeled. And his ears peeled, for that matter. He was also peeling a banana, which wasn’t an easy thing to do while holding a pencil. But if anyone could do it, Jasper “Scoop” Johnson could. He could also chew gum and walk at the same time.

  He finished his banana, paid for his meal, and stepped outside into the night air. And that’s when a car zoomed by at nearly a hundred miles per hour, heading straight for the abandoned warehouse district.

  “That’s a getaway vehicle if I’ve ever seen one,” Jasper said. And let’s face it, as a newspaperman, he’d seen plenty. His senses were trained to notice such things as speeding getaway vehicles, because where you found speeding getaway vehicles you found bad guys, and where you found bad guys you found a story.

  Jasper “Scoop” Johnson was all about the story. But before he could hop in his car and chase down the bad guys—and the story—another vehicle came racing his way. This time it wasn’t on the street. It was on the sidewalk, and it wasn’t a car. It was some sort of motorized skateboard, driven by—

  “Frankenstein’s monster!” Jasper yelped as he dove back into the doorway of Margie’s Diner. The speeding monster zoomed by, accompanied by a dog that was drooling way more than any dog should ever drool.

  “A monster riding a motorized skateboard, chasing a getaway vehicle. What a scoop!” Jasper said, stepping back onto the sidewalk. He hopped into his car and gave chase.

  Halfway down the block he had a frightening thought. He was chasing a monster.

  While Jasper was busy chasing a monster, two girls who had just robbed a bank and a few clothing stores while dreaming of vacations involving a beach were trying to get away from a monster.

  Not to mention a drooling dog.

  Claire was in the driver’s seat. Zoey rode shotgun, while calling out directions. “Turn right, make a left, speed up ... Aaaah!”

  Claire shot Zoey a look. “What’s wrong?”

  “Frankenstein’s monster is after us. I forgot to yell earlier.”

  “Aaaah!” yelled Claire.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I forgot to yell earlier also.”

  But Frankenstein’s monster, who was really a shape-shifted Jo Schmo, was nowhere to be seen. She and Raymond, who had just missed running over renowned newspaperman Jasper “Scoop” Johnson, were now roaming the streets of the abandoned warehouse district.

  “See anything, Raymond?”

  Raymond shook his dog head and gave her a look that said, “Nope, but I think we’re being followed.”

  9

  Jo Puts Two and Two Together

  Numb Skull’s evil plan was working. The crime tsunami was in full swing, and it was keeping Jo Schmo out of his hair, at least for now. And so when Dyno-Mike arrived, they got down to business, planning out the jewel heist of the century. Or at least of the week.

  The plan was simple. Harry Knuckles would punch every guard he could find, Dyno-Mike would plant the explosives, the ship would sink, and then Numb Skull would swoop in with his own personal submarine and steal the jewels. You can’t really swoop underwater, but you get the idea.

  The point is that they were going to be—

  “Rich beyond our wildest dreams,” Harry Knuckles said.

  Exactly.

  But mapping out the plan wasn’t good enough. Not for Dyno-Mike, anyway. He wanted to practice, do some sort of test run. And so while Jo Schmo was wandering around the abandoned warehouse district on the Schmomobile with Raymond in the sidecar, Numb Skull, Harry Knuckles, and Dyno-Mike were at the waterfront for exploding practice, which is a lot like blowing-things-up practice, or kaboom practice.

  “Ready? Set? Go!” Numb Skull yelled.

  Harry Knuckles fake-punched a couple of invisible guards. Dyno-Mike placed a small amount of explosives on a rowboat and shoved it away from the dock. Numb Skull sat in his submarine, ready to swoop in.

  Seconds ticked by. “Wait for it, wait for it,” whispered Dyno-Mike. Then—

  Kaboom!

  “Mwah-ha-ha!”

  Raymond gave Jo a look that said, “Is it just me or did something just go kaboom?”

  “I heard it,” Jo said. “I also heard a Mwah-ha-ha, ’ which means some evil person is celebrating something ... evil.”

  With her keen mind, Jo began to put two and two together.

  “Four?” Raymond’s look said.

  Jo shook her head. Something just blew up and someone was celebrating the blowing up. That’s as far as her keen mind got, because right then her ears, which were also fairly keen, heard something.

  “Counting,” Raymond’s look said. “Someone’s counting—”

  “The loot,” Jo said. She brought the Schmomobile to a stop and locked it to a pole. Then she and Raymond raced along on foot, listening.

  “Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine...”

  They stopped in front of a warehouse door. “Fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six...”

  Raymond gave Jo a look that said, “What’s the plan, boss?”

  “You stay here, Raymond. I’ll go around back and chase them out the front.”

  Raymond didn’t understand. He gave Jo one of those tilt-the-head-and-look-confused dog looks. She was going to chase the bad guys out the front? He didn’t have a Knuckle Sandwich. He didn’t have a Siberian Ear Tweak—or a Russian Toe Hold. He didn’t even have hands. He was just a super dog who was full of super drool.

  “Exactly,” Jo said. “Pork chops, Raymond. Pizza, hot dogs, hamburgers.” Then she ran around to the back of the building.

  10

  Dog Slobber

  There were no lights in the alleyway behind the building, and Jo Schmo was afraid of the dark. She had to keep reminding herself that she was a superhero and she had the best Knuckle Sandwich the world has ever known. “I stopped a train,” she whispered to herself. “I stopped a speeding car.”

  Saying this didn’t help at all. An alleyway at night in the abandoned warehouse district was a very scary place.

  “Ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven...”

  The bank robbers were still counting the loot. Jo found the back door and tried the knob. Locked. No problem if your name is Jo Schmo. She busted through the door with one punch and found herself in a dark hallway.

  “One hundred seven, one hundred eight, one hundred nine...”

  The bank robbers were too excited counting the loot to be bothered by other things—like t
he sound of a splintering back door. Or the sound of a superhero creeping down the hall. They had other things on their minds (besides the loot), like vacations involving a beach.

  “I hope Raymond is still drooling,” Jo whispered to herself.

  Of course Raymond was still drooling. He had on his cape, which meant Drool City. And thanks to Jo, he was also thinking of his favorite foods, like pork chops and pizza, which made him drool even more.

  But Raymond was nervous. Any second Jo would be chasing the bank robbers out the front door, and how was he going to deal with that? So as he drooled, he practiced a dog version of the Knuckle Sandwich. Think Knuckle Sandwich with lots of fur. He also threw in a few canine kicks and swished his tail around like a whip.

  But back to Jo Schmo...

  At the end of the hall, there was a light on. This is where the counting was coming from. Jo cracked her knuckles and—

  The counting stopped. They didn’t hear Jo break down the back door, but they heard her crack her knuckles. Go figure.

  “The jig is up,” Jo said to herself. She stopped creeping down the hall and started running, which is what you do when the jig is up. The bank robbers knew she was coming; she didn’t have time to creep.

  By the time Jo reached the room with the light on, Zoey and Claire were headed out another door—the front door—where Raymond was waiting for them, practicing his dog Knuckle Sandwich, his canine kicks, and his tail swish.

  Fortunately, he didn’t need any of his newly acquired moves. The dog drool did the trick. When Zoey and Claire stepped on the drool, their feet came out from under them, and Jo finished them off with a couple of Knuckle Sandwiches.