Some Like It 'Bot

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Five – The Best Laid Plans

Drew knew about as much on the proper disarming of missile warheads as the average high school student did; in other words, virtually nothing.  Sheldon might be able to do it, but his eyes were spinning around in his head right now.  Vladimir might be able to do it, but Drew wouldn't have trusted the little vermin to disarm one of his own weapons.  The red light on the missile's nose started to blink faster.  That's probably bad, thought Drew.  In the movies, blinking fast means it's about to blow up.  A steady red light means it's about to blow up really soon.

The missile's nose blinked faster and faster, then shone with a steady red light.  Oh, mega-crap.

The shoppers in the clothing store were still a little stunned, and were just standing around gawking at the two robots – and one geek – who had just dove into the store.  Drew realized that he had to worry about innocent bystanders first.  There was no place to throw Vladimir's miserable little bomb, and nothing to use as a shield.  Well, except for one thing – himself.

"Everybody get down!" yelled "Jenny".

Drew clutched onto the mini-missile sitting on his belly – it was only the size of a soda bottle – and rolled over, covering the missile with his body.  He figured one of two things would happen.  One, the missile would blow him to smithereens, and hopefully somebody would give a touching eulogy at the funeral.  Or two, the missile would blow his bizarre body into globs of silver pudding, and he'd spend the next five minutes reassembling himself, to the screams of horrified mall-goers.

Then he could try explaining to Dr. Wakeman why her evil lab rat was here, to Jenny why Sheldon was here, and to Sheldon that he'd just spent a romantic afternoon of crime-fighting with another guy.  Hmmm, option one is sounding pretty good right now.

The salesman never saw what hit him.  Jenny flew into the Slumber-rific Mattress Factory like a bullet out of a rifle barrel, and sent him tumbling over a stack of mattresses.  She'd apologize later, but she had, maybe, one-half of a second to fool her mother.

Jenny picked out one of the sample beds and flopped onto her back.  Just as her head hit the pillow, her chest-plate split open, and the video monitor deployed.  She had just enough time to close her eyes before her mother's face popped on the screen.

"XJ-9, I trust everything is still running smoothly on … "  Mrs. Wakeman stopped, and sighed.  "Oh, for heaven's sake, XJ-9, are you asleep?  You aren't scheduled to power down for another five hours!"

Jenny "woke up" with a long, exaggerated yawn, stretching her arms for the video screen.  "Just having a rest, Mom," she blurted.  "Not much to do in the ol' bedroom.  Which is where I am.  It's been a pretty quiet, boring afternoon on the monitors.  Here in my bedroom.  My monitor-filled bedroom.  Heh-heh.  Ummm … what's the problem?"

"I wanted you to do me a quick favor, dear.  Could you run down to my lab and see if I have any spare flux-couplers in my parts inventory?"

Run down to the lab … oh, nuts.  "Ah …. I … ah … don't need to, Mom.  You've got plenty down there, you picked up half a dozen flux-couplers when you went grocery shopping, remember?  So you don't need to buy any more at the mall."

"Oh, that's right.  Silly me, I'd forgotten!  I guess I can be on my way …"  Mrs. Wakeman suddenly looked puzzled.  "XJ-9, how did you know that I was at the mall?"

Uh-oh.  "Ah … I … ah … can … see somebody with a shopping bag behind you!"  Gasp.  Gasp.

For a young lady who was resting comfortably on her bed, XJ-9 was acting particularly nervous.  "Are you feeling all right, XJ-9?"

"Yes!  I'm feeling great!  Feelin' … super!  Thanks for asking!"

Jenny didn't notice that the salesman had gotten back to his feet, with an annoyed look on his face.  "Can I help you with something, miss?" he asked.

Her mother frowned a bit.  "And just who is that?"

Jenny grimaced in fear, and grabbed the monitor to prevent it from turning to look.  "Nothing!  Nothing!  Just a … door-to-door salesman.  I need to go get rid of him!"

"Door-to-door salesman …?"

And with that, she slammed her monitor off, and folded it back into her chest.  She sat up, and tried to calm herself down.

The salesman just scowled as Jenny ran to the front of the store, and peeked down to the ground floor.  Her mother scratched her head, shrugged, and put the communicator back in her pocket.  Then she got up off the bench.  Yes!  She's leaving!  Jenny slapped her forehead.  Which means that I might have ten minutes to fix everything and beat her home.  Oh, brother.

Drew gritted his teeth, waiting for the explosion, but it never came.  Was the missile a dud?  Ha!  There's no way I'm that lucky.  Drew took a look under his steel stomach.   He didn't hear or see the missile's nose beeping.  In fact, he didn't see the missile at all.  He rolled over on his back and looked around.  There was no way that it could simply have rolled away.  What gives?

A warbling feeling radiated up his body from his stomach.  Suddenly he realized what had happened to the missile.  He'd eaten it.  Or more accurately, his nanobot body had absorbed it and broken it down.  Some kind of reflex?  He didn't know, and right now, didn't care.  The important thing was that nobody had seen it.  Drew sat up, and took a deep breath.  Mama Mia, that's-a spicy meat-ball.

Everyone in the store, including Sheldon, was staring at "her".  Oh, right … I'm still the super robot girl.  Okay, let's wrap this up and get out of here.

"Relax, everybody.  Everything's okay.  Umm … resume your normal shopping activity."  Drew plucked the semi-conscious lab rat out of the robot suit by the tail, and lifted him into the air.  "Do you have a box or something I can put this in?" he asked the cashier.

"Ewwww!!!" she squealed, tossing an empty shoe box.  "Just get that disgusting thing out of there!"

"He's not disgusting!"  Sheldon caught the shoe box.  "Sure, he was going to take over the town with mind control serum, and he tried to destroy our lovely guardian angel here" – he gestured to "Jenny", who just cringed – "but that just makes him evil, not disgusting."

Vladimir shook his fists in rage.  "Evil!  I will be showink you evil!  Release me at once!  You cannot hold down my proletarian brothers forever!  Ve vill rise up …"

Drew groaned, and dropped the lab rat in the shoebox.  "Just – shut – UP.  Geez."

He had to do something with Vladimir's robot, and he had to do something with Sheldon.  He walked over to glance out of the front of the store.  He didn't see Dr. Wakeman down by the benches anymore, so she must have left – probably to go home.  But he did see a pale blue streak swoop down into the Kwicky Kuts.  He didn't have a lot of time.  How the blazes am I going to beat Jenny and her mom back to the house?

The four pop sensations, the Back Sync Boys, were shivering with fear, tied up in barber chairs.  The henchmen of the Lonely Hearts Club Gang growled at the hairdressers, who cowered at the back of the shop.  "Please, please don't hurt us!" pleaded one of the hairdressers.  "Take the money, take whatever you want!"

"The only thing we're taking from you today is you naivety," sneered the Boss.  "After you see these four pretty boys stripped of their carefully cultivated coiffures, then you will gain an appreciation of our grief.  The grief of those who didn't have happiness handed to them at birth, on a silver platter.  I'll think we'll start with … you."  The Boss turned on a pair of electric clippers, and had one of his henchmen lift him up behind Logan's chair.

"Say good-bye to your status as pop culture icons, gentlemen," gloated the Boss.

But before he could start, Jenny frantically swished into the store with a gust of wind, landing a few feet away from the barber chairs.  The Lonely Hearts jumped in surprise, and the Boss sulked in frustration.  "You again!  I thought we'd lost you in the parking lot!"

Jenny took a second to calm herself down.  "Well, you thought wrong!  All right, Lonely Hearts, put the clippers down and put your hands up.  You can walk out of here, or you can be carried.  I don't have a lot of time to waste." 

"I think you're overestimating your position," sneered the Boss.  He raised his clippers into the air.  "Make one more move, and the Back Sync Boys will have to be renamed the Cue Ball Boys!"

"NO!!!" Jenny gasped.  "Wait!  Don't do anything crazy!"  Jenny suddenly realized that she was standing not more than ten feet from Logan.  Logan!  She blushed and giggled, and gave a little wave.  "H-hi there, Logan!  Eeeee!"

One of the henchmen took advantage of Jenny's distraction, and pulled a sink hose from a hair-washing station.  He blasted her with a shower of water.  Jenny shuddered and crackled as the water hit her metallic body, throwing short circuits and tiny bolts of electricity into the air.  Small wisps of smoke started to drift from her pigtails.

"I'm actually glad you're here to see this, robot girl," the Boss gloated.  "In a few minutes, your precious crooner is going to have more of a shine on his head than you do."  The clippers turned on with a buzzzz.

Drew struggled with Vladimir's battle robot as he carried it towards the exit doors of the mall.  It was heavy, and awkward, and he was trying not to bump into too many shoppers.  Sheldon was two steps behind him, carrying the shoebox with Vladimir inside.  And he hadn't stopped talking since they left the clothing store.

"… can't believe that we captured a dangerous villain together, Jenny!  I mean, I never had any doubt in my mind that you were going to catch him.  After all, you're a professional crime-fighting hero!  But it was so awesome helping you out this afternoon.  Not that you needed any help, of course.  Although I always secretly hoped that you'd find my inventions useful …"

"Sure, that sounds great … unghhh … whatever."  Jeez, does he ever stop talking?  He's got to run out of air sometime.  Drew was trying to figure out how he was going to make this stunt work, and he was barely paying attention to Sheldon.

"… and I'm really grateful for the opportunity to test the jet pack and the sludge gun.  And I just wanted to say thanks for all the times you saved my life this afternoon.  We've stared down the grim reaper and laughed in his face, side by side!  And … I'd … Jenny, I'd really like a chance to show my appreciation to you … ummm … like on a … ummm … you know …"

"Unghhh … can you get that door, please?"  Drew shifted his grip on the robot suit, while Sheldon happily threw the glass doors open with a sweeping gesture.  Drew carried the robot suit a few more steps, and set it down on the pavement.  "Let's see our little prisoner," he said.

"Uh … sure, Jenny."  Sheldon handed him the shoebox.  "So, as I was saying, I'd be honored if you …"

Drew ignored Sheldon, and grabbed Vladimir from the shoebox, clutching him in a metal fist.  "Okay, listen up, rat fink.  I have one question for you."

"Bah!" spat Vladimir.  "I am not afraid of goody-goody robot girl.  Nothink you do can be makink me talk!"

Drew growled in anger.  "Oh, yeah?  Just inside those doors, there's a pet store.  I know they have a lot of cats.  And they have lizards and snakes, too.  Even a python.  I wonder if they've been fed yet today …"

Vladimir gasped in horror.  "All right, I am talkink!  I am talkink!"

Drew pointed to the robot suit.  "How do I turn on the rocket engine?"

All this time, Sheldon had still been talking nonstop.  "… and can assure you that contrary to popular misconception, the Museum of Entomology is really quite fascinating, especially the section on swamp insects, and it's a lovely way to spend an evening …"

Drew rolled his eyes and sighed.  "Sheldon!  Okay, look, yes!  Sure!  Whatever you say!  I need to concentrate here for a second!"  He turned to Vladimir.  "Show me the button, unless you want to wind up as a bowl of Python Chow."

He wrapped his arms around the battered robot suit, and the shoebox, and took a deep breath.  Okay, Jenny's house has to be in … that direction.  I sure hope I'm still alive five minutes from now.  He tapped the button and tightened his grip.  The rocket motor at the bottom of Vladimir's robot suit deployed, and a belch of orange flame shot out, launching the robot, and Drew, and Vladimir, screaming into the sky, at an insane speed and barely under control.

Sheldon stared up into the sky, coughing on the dark exhaust fumes, grinning ear to ear.  He spun around and punched the air with his fist.  "Yesss!  Sheldon Lee, it's your lucky night!"  Chuckle!  Snort!

Sparks and smoke continued to shoot off of Jenny's head.  As long as that henchman kept that sink hose trained on her, firing water full blast, she was going to have problems.  And the clock was ticking.  Mom must be on the highway by now.

Jenny deployed an umbrella from her left wrist, deflecting the water away from her face.  She balled her right hand into a fist, and then jettisoned her entire right arm at the shoulder, firing it at the gangster like a missile.  Small rocket jets blasted from Jenny's detached arm, and it landed a mighty blow to the gangster's chin.  He was out cold before he hit the floor.

While her flying right arm doubled over another surprised gangster with a punch to the stomach, Jenny leapt towards the two biggest men, knocking them senseless with a spinning helicopter kick.  Three more of the mopey miscreants dropped to the floor, making a nice, neat unconscious pile.  The only one left to go was the pint-size Boss.  Alarmed at the speed with which the robot girl dealt with his four partners, he brought the clippers down to within half an inch of Logan's head.  "Don't make another move, you tin-plated teenybopper," he threatened.

She hovered in front of the him with a sly smile.  "Whatever you say."  Jenny's flying arm looped around behind the Boss, and punched him in the back of the head.  Mission accomplished, she grinned, as she reattached her arm …

But the clippers tumbled out of the Boss' hands, and before Jenny could react, thick chunks of luscious brown hair were flying into the air, and landing onto the floor of the shop.  Logan looked in the mirror, mortified.

"NO!" screamed Jenny.  She quickly caught the clippers, and untied Logan, but the damage had been done.  "Oh, Logan!  I'm so sorry!  I was trying to save you but my mom was outside the store and I couldn't let her see me and I really love all of your songs and me and my friends all think you're the cutest well except for Connie but what does she know and …"

Logan ignored her and patted his hair, examining the damage.  "Oh, man!  It's a total write-off!  There's no way I can get another one in before tomorrow's photo shoot!  Somebody get Morty on the phone.  We'll have to reschedule."

Jenny clasped her hands, pleading.  "Let me do it for you, Logan!  Please!  I've got to make it up … to … wait a minute.  Get another what before tomorrow?"

Logan pointed to his hair.  "A replacement, you silly twit."

The unthinkable suddenly entered Jenny's mind.  She reached for Logan's hair, gave it a firm, gentle tug … and it came off in her hand.

Jenny was stunned.  "What – what – what's going on here?!?  What is this?!?"

"It's my wig," groaned Logan, "and a very expensive one!  I get these things custom-made in Italy!  Ah, the spare is back at the studio, and it's going to take at least six weeks to get another one made …"

"But … but how can you be bald?"

"I started losing my hair five years ago."

"WHAT?!?"  Jenny's neck telescoped, shooting her head to within six inches of Logan's nose.

He shrunk back into the salon chair.  "Uh … you see … well, I'm thirty-two years old."

Jenny just stared, and her mouth quivered a few times.

"You're an old man!!!  AUUGGGHHH!!!"  Tears streamed from her eyes.  "I can't believe this!  My life is over!  My world has no meaning!  The Back Sync Boys are total frauds!"

"Shhhh!!!  Not so loud!!!" said Logan, trying to calm her down.  "Look, tell you what we'll do.  Don't breathe a word of this to anyone, and we'll … we'll write a song about you.  We'll put it on the next album!"

That got Jenny's attention, then she looked at Logan again, and his receding hairline.  "Tell you what," she grumbled angrily.  "You don't mention anything about me, I won't mention anything about this" – she lifted Logan's wig in her hand – "and you can write a song for my mother.  Maybe a nice polka.  Or something really ancient like … like disco!"  She threw the wig on the floor, and blasted out of the salon, crying as she flew through the roof of the mall.

Two of the Back Sync Boys exchanged a painful glance.  "I rather like disco," sulked K.J.

Shooting through the clouds over Tremorton, a bizarre pair of robots spiraled wildly though the sky.  Drew was trying to steer by shifting his weight to point the rocket in the right direction.  The world spun upside-down for a few seconds, until he managed to turn the robot's body around and finally got on top of it, riding it like a race horse – a horse that was going to toss him into the next county if he wasn't careful.  Gasp.  Gasp.  Just a few more minutes.

That looked like it might have been the high school.  And over to his left – he recognized that intersection.  He was close, but … oh nuts, I'm going in the wrong direction.  I've got to turn this thing around.

Drew leaned to his left, but the rocket pitched straight down instead.  The whole flying mess started cartwheeling through the air, out of control.  Drew grabbed the shoebox with Vladimir inside and jumped away from the robot suit.  The suit crashed into a local junkyard, where it and the mind-control serum harmlessly burned up.  But some lucky suburban family was about to get a Jenny-shaped hole in their front yard.  Drew turned his body to shield the little rat from the fall, and plunged into a grassy lawn, blasting a crater ten feet deep.

A few passers-by stared, until finally, a quivering steel hand raised up and sat a crumbled shoebox on the lawn.  Drew pulled himself up a few moments later, and collapsed on his back.  Maybe I'll just admire the sky for a minute.  Gasp.  Pant.  Gasp.  A quick rest would let the nanobots do a little repair work …

But that was going to have to wait.  Zipping through the sky, Jenny streaked overhead, heading back to her house.  And she could fly an awful lot faster than Drew could run, even as an android.  No rest for the weary, I guess.  Drew picked up the shoebox, and sprinted down the sidewalk as fast as he could.

Jenny touched down on the sidewalk in front of her house, and slumped towards the front door.  Mom's car wasn't in the garage, so she'd beaten her home.  She'd snuck out of the house to see the biggest concert of the year, and gotten away with it.  But it turned out to be the biggest fraud of the year.  She wasn't crying anymore … now she was just mad.  I'm going upstairs and throw every single Back Sync Boys album and poster I can find into the trash.

She walked in the house and grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen, then dragged herself slowly up the stairs, brooding.  "I got myself grounded to get tickets for that concert!" she shouted to herself.  "Augh!  And then I risked getting myself permanently grounded to sneak out and see these guys!  I would have been better off staying at home!"

She heard a loud thud come from upstairs.

What in the world was that?  Oh, right – Drew!  She'd almost forgotten about him, and suddenly she felt even worse.  I made him give up his afternoon and stay home with Mom so I could go to that stupid concert!  Oh, no … I'd better pretend that I enjoyed it, or else he'll feel really bad.

She reached for her bedroom door.  "Hey there, sis!  I'm back …huh?"

Her bedroom door wasn't there.  It was lying on the floor.  And so was "another" Jenny.

Drew was lying on his stomach, on the bedroom floor, exhausted, clutching onto a beat-up shoebox.  And he looked terrible.  His pale blue coating was covered in dents and clods of dirt from his toes to his pigtails.  His shoulder was flattened and his hips were crooked.  And her bedroom … her bedroom was a disaster area!  Everything was scattered all over the floor!  The window was broken!  And one of the wall monitors was totally smashed up!

Jenny grabbed her pigtails.  "What happened?!?"

Drew's head lifted up.  "J-Jenny?!?  Hey there … h-how was the concert?!?"

"Drew, what happened to my bedroom?!?"

Let's see, thought Drew.  One of your mom's lab rats totally trashed the place, and blasted my butt out the window in a plot to take over the town.  Then Sheldon and I … ewghhh … 'Sheldon and I' …  I would rather skinny-dip in a live volcano than tell her about that.

"I tried to get the football game on that monitor and it blew up.  Heh-heh.  Sorry."

"The monitor blew up?!  That doesn't make any sense!"  But then Jenny heard another noise.  A familiar one.

Her mom's car was pulling into the driveway.

"My mother's home!  Oh, no, we've got to clean this room up!"

Drew cringed.  And I've still got to get this stupid rat downstairs.  For some reason, Jenny was carrying a trash bag.  "Here!  I'll fill this and toss it in the back yard!  You get your bedroom door back on its hinges!"

He frantically filled the trash bag with blast debris while Jenny deployed a power drill from her right wrist, and raced to fix her bedroom door.  Her left arm extended and deployed a powerful dust-buster, and her lower body converted into a carpet vacuum.

"What about the wall monitor?  I can't let my mom find out you blew it up!"

"I … I'll think of something!"  The trash bag was filled.  Drew grabbed it, tucked the shoebox under his arm, and raced downstairs.

He sprinted to the back of the house, threw open the door, and hurled the trash bag outside.  It landed in the pool.  D'oh – I'll worry about that later.  Drew raced back to Mrs. Wakeman's laboratory.  He opened the shoebox, and lifted a disoriented lab rat up by the tail.

"This is outrage!  I vill not tolerate such handling in brutish fashion!"  Vladimir was seething with rage.  "And vhy am I hearink voices of two robot thugs?  And vhat is a 'Drew'?!?"

Oh, crap.  "Listen up.  It's your lucky day, Mortimer," hissed Drew.  "You tried to take over the town, and blow me up, and now I'm just going to put you back in your cage like nothing happened.  Catch my drift?  You're going to run in your happy little exercise wheel and keep your mouth shut, and nobody will ever find out about your little one-day release.  Because if they do …"  He poked a threatening finger into Vladimir's chest.  "Python Chow."

"XJ-9!  What are you doing out of your room, young lady?"  A shiver went up Drew's back.  Sure enough, Mrs. Wakeman was standing right behind him.

He turned around, holding Vladimir in his hands.  "Hi, Mom!  I … uh … heard a squeaking noise downstairs, and thought I should check it out.  I think he was just hungry."  Drew took a piece of kibble from Vladimir's cage, and held it up to him.

"Eat up, cute little mousey," he said through a forced grin.  "Python Chow," he whispered.  Vladimir grabbed the food pellet and started nervously nibbling away.

Mrs. Wakeman clasped her hands together in delight.  "Oooh, you've made friends with Mister Scruffles!  That's wonderful, dear!  Oh, was my schnookums hungry?  Was he?"  "Jenny" handed the lab rat to her mother, grinning, and took off for the kitchen.  Mrs. Wakeman carried Vladimir back to his cage, scratched him behind the ears, and set him down in his little bed of shredded newspaper.  Look at that rattled look in his little eyes.  The poor thing needs to get some sleep!

She set down her shopping bag, and a thought occurred to her.  XJ-9 was looking a little rattled too.  In fact, she looked as if she'd suffered some kind of superficial damage.  Perhaps the emergency monitors had sounded off while she was out shopping for regulators.  She'd best check out the monitor logs in XJ-9's room.

Drew ran out the back door of the house, sprinted around to Jenny's window, and made it to the upstairs window sill in one jump.  Jenny was working madly away with every piece of cleaning equipment that she had, deployed from her legs, arms, wrists, chest, head, and pigtails.  The bedroom door was fixed, the debris was swept up, and the scorch marks were washed off of the walls.

"She's in the house!" he said, drawing the curtains shut.  "That'll have to do for the window, for now."

Jenny was fighting back a panic.  "The wall monitor!  What about the wall monitor?"

A pair of footsteps walked towards the bedroom door.

Jenny quickly retracted all of her brooms, vacuums, polishers, brushes, and sprayers.  "Drew, hide!"

Mrs. Wakeman shouted down the stairs.  "XJ-9, I'm just going to zip into your room for a moment to check the afternoon monitor logs …"  Then she turned around, and almost jumped out of her shoes.  She rubbed her eyes for a moment.  "What in – sweet Aristotle's protractor!  XJ-9, I was just talking to you downstairs!  How did you –"

Uh-oh.  Ohhh … think fast, girl.  "Heh-heh … yes, yes you were, because I was downstairs, with you, and then I … ran right back up here!  To my room!"  She lowered her head, in a respectful manner.  "Because that's where I'm supposed to be."

Mrs. Wakeman walked into Jenny's room, and slowly looked around.  It was spotless.  The carpet was clean.  The walls were shining.  No magazines on the floor.  Everything neatly in its place.  All the monitors humming away, with their volumes turned on.  And XJ-9 didn't look damaged or soiled in any way.

Her jaw dropped open.  "Why, I'm … I'm very impressed, young lady.  Your room is cleaner than my quarantine isolation tank!  And you spent your afternoon watching your monitors and doing your studies!"

Jenny smiled innocently.  I did?  Okay … sure I did.

Her mother lifted her "lecturing finger", with a satisfied smile on her face.  "I knew all you needed was a little guidance, to help you apply yourself to your duties.  And with what you've shown me this afternoon, I believe that you've learned a few things about responsibility as well."  She clasped her hands behind her back.  "Your grounding is concluded, XJ-9."

"That's great!  Thanks, Mom!"  Mrs. Wakeman trotted back downstairs, justifiably proud of her parenting skills.  Jenny let out a huge sigh of relief, and collapsed on her bed.

"Is she gone?" asked the wall monitor.

The shiny, undamaged wall monitor, which wasn't functional but looked an awful lot like a wall monitor, warbled into a silver-green mass, and flowed away from the wall.  It stretched and squashed into a humanoid shape, and with a few last shimmers, took on the form of a familiar gray-green android.  Drew reached up to his throat and tapped it like a microphone.  There were a few muffled chirps, and he finally smiled in relief.

"Oh, wow, does that feel good," he said – in his own voice.  Then he collapsed into the beanbag chair, next to Jenny's bed.

"So, you have a good time at the concert?" he mumbled.

"Uh … sure, sure, great time," Jenny mumbled back.  "You have any excitement here?  Besides the monitor, I mean."

"No, no … pretty dull, just like you said it would be."

They glanced at each other, almost as if they didn't quite fully believe each other's answers.  But they were too tired to say anything about it.

"Thanks for subbing for me, Drew," Jenny finally said.  "I owe you a big favor."

"You can pay my therapy bills for the next five years," he mumbled.  "Forget about it.  Really.  I plan to."

So it was finally over.  Drew was back in his own form.  Jenny had gotten away with playing hooky.  Drew had gotten away with running around half of Tremorton impersonating a super robot girl.  A megalomaniac lab rat was thwarted from an attempt to drug the water supply.  And some local troublemaking gangsters were even more depressed than usual.  And best of all, nobody would ever know about any of it.

The doorbell rang.

They heard Mrs. Wakeman answer the door.  There was conversation and … she burst into a giggle.  That was a little out of character for the doctor.

"XJ-9!  There is somebody at the door to see you!"  She sounded almost impish.

Drew grit his teeth.  Why do I have a feeling that I've forgotten something?

Jenny got up and walked to her bedroom door, a little confused.  "Mom?"

"Young lady, you have a … gentleman caller," she giggled.

Jenny took a few steps down the stairs, and her eyes shot out to the size of pie plates.

Sheldon stood in the doorway, hair combed back, wearing a sport jacket and tie … in clashing colors, of course.  He was holding a bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped box of candy.  "Good evening, Jenny.  I got here right at seven o'clock, like we agreed.  Well, actually … I've been standing on the sidewalk for two and a half minutes.  I didn't want to get here early."

Jenny stammered, unable to put a sentence together.

Mrs. Wakeman wagged a finger at her.  "Ohhh, you little dickens!  You made an extra effort today in order to make sure that your evening would be free for your … special night."  She chuckled again.  "Well, you've certainly earned it!  You two young people enjoy yourselves.  I hear the Museum of Entomology is a wonderful way to spend an evening."

Jenny grabbed onto the handrail to steady herself.  "Sure … Mom … just let me … uh … freshen up."

She flew back into her bedroom, her cheeks turning red with anger.  "Drew!  Drew, are you in here?  Is there anything that happened this afternoon that you'd like to share with me?!?  Get out here, you big chicken!  Drew!!!"  But Drew was nowhere to be seen.

"Jenny, hurry up!" shouted Sheldon.  "The swamp insect exhibit closes at eight thirty!"

Jenny slapped her forehead, and her shoulders sunk.  She couldn't think of any way out of this without making an even bigger mess.  She clanked down the steps, where Sheldon proudly presented her with the flowers and the box of candy, which was actually filled with an assortment of lug nuts.

"Shall we commence our evening, fair maiden?"  Sheldon extended his arm, blushing furiously.  Mrs. Wakeman dabbed at a tear in her eye.

Jenny rolled her eyes, and grabbed onto Sheldon's arm.  "Commence away, Sheldon," she sighed.

They walked out of the Wakeman house, and ran into … Drew, who was walking down the sidewalk, trying to look innocent.

Mrs. Wakeman was still looking on, so Drew feigned surprise.  "Jenny!  Sheldon!  Why hello there, two people who I have not seen yet today!  Just out for a little night air!  Yessirree!  Just happened to be randomly walking though the neighborhood!"  He laughed nervously.  "Look at you two, now!  Aw, isn't that nice?"

He gave Sheldon a playful punch on the shoulder.  "Way to go, Casanova."  Sheldon beamed with pride.  Jenny gave Drew a look that nearly set his metal skin on fire.  There was no such thing as robot ESP, but he didn't need it to read that look:  I know you're responsible, and I am going to get you for this.

Sheldon and Jenny walked off for their romantic evening at the insect museum, and Drew sprinted in the opposite direction.  Maybe I'll stop when I reach Mexico.  Maybe.

Brad and Tuck walked out of the One Hour Photo at the Tremorton Mall with big smiles on their faces.  Tuck handed a set of photos over to Brad.  "Thanks for paying for the double prints," he said.

"Oh, believe me, little bro, it was my pleasure.  Wow, these disposable cameras actually take a really nice picture, don't they?"

"I'd like to think so," said Tuck.  He flipped through the pictures, admiring his photography skills.  There was Jenny hiding behind a fake tree, next to Dr. Wakeman.  And there was Sheldon running behind "Jenny" in the mall.  And there was Sheldon making goo-goo eyes at "Jenny" after catching the robot.

"You do know what this means, don't you?" grinned Brad.

"Oh yeah," grinned Tuck.  "It means we've got volunteers to rake our yard, shovel our driveway, and mow our lawn for a long, long time."

THE END