TALES FROM ELECTRICOPOLIS @electricopolis-net - Tumblr Blog

S03E08 Trial of the Century

Bob Sparker let out a low whistle as he looked upwards, shading his face from the sun. Electricopolis towered above Percy and himself, an enormous gray citadel against the blue sky, surrounded by swirling wisps of white clouds. How it had changed in just a year! Greenery flourished at the base of the city and long tangles of ivy climbed up the sides of the tower, wrapping themselves around the bases of the pinwheel-like structures that jutted from the walls.

"What do you think those are?" Bob remarked, squinting up at the structures.

"Windmills, most likely," Percy answered. "They're a way of deriving power from water or air. Looks like Margaret's figured out a solution to the city's power woes, I'd imagine." Percy paused, adjusting his shoulders and hefting up a sizable canvas bag on his back. It contained some food, some clothes, and the few souvenirs that marked their stay in Junk Town, back on the coast.

Since the day the inky black clouds had begun to dissolve from the summit of Electricopolis, Bob and Percy had been raring to come back home. Still, the Cursebreaker urged them to wait until the sky was fully clear. "Just to be certain," he'd said, though they didn't know what they had to be certain of.

"I guess they did, since the subway started running again. Too bad it broke down right outside the city, but I guess it's better than having to cross the mountains..." Bob trailed off as he glanced over at Percy. "So, uh, how should we do this? Just walk right in? I don't imagine folks are gonna be happy to see us."

"I don't think so either." Percy was quiet for a long moment as he thought. "We could go back to the subway and walk the tracks to HQ..."

"We'll get recognized either way," Bob said. "I guess it's just a matter of--wait a second." He leaned forward, squinting. "Is that a car?"

From the top of the roads that spiraled down the sides of the city, a bright shape was drawing closer. As it circled further and further downwards, it was plain to see that it was a white limousine that neither of them recognized. It finally drove down the road into the valley, kicking up clouds of dust as it came to a stop a few feet away from the two expatriates.

The door flew open and out flew Margaret King, her golden ringlets as bright and beautiful as ever, wearing a fur around her neck and a white dress that looked more suitable for an evening gala than a drive on the sides of the city. "Bob! Dad!" she cried out, embracing one and then the other. "I thought it was you two!"

"Margie!" Bob laughed. "How did you know we were out here?"

"Oh, we've got an old telescope," Margie explained. "It wasn't much use when it was dark out, but now that the skies have cleared, you can see so far away with it! I've been scoping out the valley every day, hoping for you two to come back!" She smiled brilliantly, then looked over her shoulder with a nervous glance. "We should get you two out of the open, though, don't you think?"

The chauffeured limousine drove back up the curving streets towards the top tier. "So, tell me everything!" Margie chirped, folding her hands in her lap. "What's out there? Did you find anyone? Were there other cities?"

"Cities?" Bob echoed. He gave Percy a sidelong glance. "Well, not exactly. You see..."

Slowly, he began to recount the story of the year they'd spent outside the city walls. He (and Percy, when he had something to clarify or add) related their time in Junk Town, of having to barter for goods and services, of eating food from the fields. And they told her about the townspeople, who remained suspicious of Electricopolis right up to the day Percy and Bob had left to return to the city.

Margaret listened in rapt attention. She frowned slightly, but whether it was from troubled thoughts or just concentration, Bob couldn't tell. "It sounds like you've been through a lot," she finally sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. Aside from that... I'm sorry," she said haltingly. "I...I'm sorry I forced you out of the city. I wish there'd been another way."

"I understand," Percy sighed. "It's not like we had much choice." He tried to peer out the windows, but they were tinted a dark grey. "How have things been here? We saw the windmills."

"Yes, well...things sure have changed since you left!" Margaret barked out a laugh that was obviously forced. "I mean, we have the city up and running again, which is good. Mr. Amar helped with that, if you can believe it. And the entertainment industry is back on its feet, although it hasn't been the same since you left..." She glanced over her shoulder again, out the windshield.

"Without Bob? Of course it's not the same," Percy chuckled. Bob waved a hand in mock bashfulness. "Margaret, why do you keep glancing around? Is everything all right?"

"Well, it's just..." Margaret hemmed and hawed. "We're coming back up to the top tier, and..."

The limousine came to a sudden stop, sending its occupants lurching. There was the sound of sirens in the background, and--

"You can stop right there!" said a voice through a megaphone. "Percy King and Bob Sparker, come out with your hands up!"

Margaret buried her head in her hands. "Oh, God," she moaned. "I was afraid of this."

There was a long, tense moment, and then the doors to the limousine opened slowly. Percy and Bob stepped out, squinting their eyes against the flashes of cameras. Margie followed suit. "It's them!" shouted a voice from the crowd. "It really is them! They're back!"

Bob held up a hand and smiled weakly, hesitantly, then cringed as the crowd immediately started booing and hissing at the two of them. "You caused the blackout!" shouted someone. "And then you abandoned us!"

"String 'em up!" came another shout. "They don't deserve to live!"

A soda can went sailing through the air. Bob leaned to the side quickly, and it ricocheted with a clink off the window of the limo. For a moment, it looked as if the crowd would surge forward, but...

"All right, that's enough!" a woman's voice yelled out sharply, like the crack of a whip. A trio of police officers came forward out of the crowd, their clothes dark, their hats pulled down over their faces. Two of the officers--a tall, broad man and a shorter, stouter man--pushed the crowd back to make a path.

The third one, the woman who'd spoken, grabbed Bob by the arm and began to lead him away. "You have the right to remain silent," she said. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Bob said sourly. "How'd you get out of prison, Paulina?"

The woman turned her head up and pushed up the brim of her cap. Paulina Sweet grinned from ear to ear, her lavender-colored bob of hair framing her face. "Oh, Mr. Amar just pulled a few strings. Now that he runs Electricopolis, you're the one going to prison!"

---

And that's how Bob and Percy found themselves alone together once again. Except this time, instead of being in a subway car or in a shack on the beach, they were back in their fair hometown, stuck in a holding cell in the Diamond District Correctional Facility. So close, and yet so far.

"There's headquarters," Percy sighed, looking out the window. The Top Tier skyscraper jutted out above the rest of the city. "A place I'm never going to see the inside of ever again." He looked over at Bob, who was bouncing his leg as he reclined on one of the two beds in the cell. "You don't look nearly as glum as I thought you would, Bob."

"Oh, I kind of expected this to happen, to tell you the truth," Bob yawned. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. "With you out of the picture, it just makes sense that Amar would swoop in and take control of the company. I bet he demanded half of it in exchange for the turbines, or something like that."

Percy grimaced. "Yes, that sounds like the kind of thing he would do."

"But don't worry, Mr. King." Bob tapped the side of his sizable nose, a grin spreading across his face. "This time, I got a plan. And it's got at least a 70% chance of us getting out of this with our heads still attached to our necks."

"A plan?" Percy echoed, his face falling. "Do... do I really want to know?"

"Oh, I wouldn't tell you even if you did!" Bob started to laugh, of all things. "No, no, this is a good one, Mr. King. I intend to save it..." Bob pulled up a newspaper from the side of the bed. "For this."

Percy took a look. The headline on the paper read FUGITIVES FOUND, and the subheading read TRIAL OF THE CENTURY LOOMS LARGE. Underneath it was a large photograph of the moment he and Bob Sparker had stepped out of the limousine. "Trial of the century, they're calling it," Percy sighed, taking the paper. "I suppose it is, isn't it?"

"That's right. It's gonna be the first big live televised event since the city blacked out," Bob explained. As he talked, Percy skimmed the article. "We're gonna be on the air. Everyone's going to tune in." A twinkle shone in his eye. "And there's nowhere I'm better than in front of a camera, right?"

Despite the circumstances, Percy let out a low chuckle. "I suppose you could say that," he said. "All right, Bob. I'm trusting you. But I don't think I can pull any strings to help you out this time."

"Oh, I don't think you'll need to!" Bob laughed, crossing one leg in front of the other. "You don't need to handle me with kid gloves anymore, bo--" He stopped himself. He'd slipped back into calling Percy Mr. King, but boss was going a bit too far. "...Mr. King."

"You know..." Percy sat down next to him. "You don't have to call me that either, Bob. I certainly don't run this town anymore."

"It just feels weird otherwise." Bob shrugged, then grinned. "Hey, think of it this way: you're still older than me, so it's okay!"

---

On the day of the trial...

Percy had seen his fair share of televised trials, but knew that they were, by and large, farces. The gears of justice in Electricopolis turned largely behind closed doors, with attorneys and justices negotiating everything from sentencing to lighting and makeup. And now he, Percy King, a man who had always been happy to hide in the shadows behind the radiance of his photogenic daughter, was at the mercy of show business. Wonderful. And he didn't even have his city-controlling clout to lend him a hand.

What he did have were two things. First, a lawyer who had been a friend and fixer to Percy for many years, but who even now was meeting his match against the entire combined enmity of the city. And second, he had Bob Sparker.

Percy glanced over. Bob was sitting politely at their defendants' table with his hands clasped together. For some reason, even through some truly damning opening arguments, his smile never seemed to waver for a moment. Okay, so he had a plan. Just what was it? And perhaps more importantly, when was he going to put it into action?

Percy considered the following. Televised trials in Electricopolis were generally around three hours long, split into two ninety-minute "acts" with a fifteen-minute recess in the middle. There were also commercial breaks every thirty minutes that acted as brief respites to touch up makeup or grab a drink of water. They were currently about thirty minutes in, having just wrapped up the opening arguments.

He leaned over and whispered. "Bob, about this plan..."

Bob gave him a wink and put his finger to his lips. Shh. I got it all figured out.

Percy sighed and leaned back into place.

In a nutshell, the prosecution asserted that Percy and Bob had played fast and loose with the power supply of the town, exploiting the power grid to unsafe levels and burning through the fuel that sustained the city. The defense maintained that no, they didn't, and any attempt to declare such was fueled by jealousy and only served to further Rubyred's corporate interests.

Where was the truth? Well, as with all things, it depended on whom you asked...

"It doesn't surprise me," said Dr. Eustace Flask, Bob Sparker's personal physician, taking the stand as a character witness for the prosecution. "The fool ran himself ragged five nights a week, and Mr. King did nothing but enable him. Why shouldn't they do the same with the city itself?"

"Percy King said I could have my own show!" Paulina Sweet insisted, jabbing a finger in Percy's direction. "And then he sent that long-nosed guard dog of his to the Paradise Hotel to get the evidence from me!"

"Oh, of course they did it," said Miss Information, twirling a finger in the dark curls of her hair. "Please. Would I lie to you?"

Percy felt himself sinking lower and lower into his seat. This wasn't going well at all. Still, throughout the whole thing, Bob Sparker sat next to him looking angelic, twiddling his thumbs. What the hell was he thinking?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Percy was called to take the stand.

"Mr. Percy King," intoned the prosecuting lawyer, a woman with red hair and a no-nonsense attitude. "The prosecution asserts that you willfully exploited the town's power grid for your own personal gain. Did you?"

"I did not," Percy responded, as coolly as he could manage under the harsh spotlights of the courtroom stage. "I have absolutely nothing to gain from running my own city into the ground."

"Is it true that you diverted special allotments of energy to Bob Sparker's game show, Shock 'Til You Drop?"

"It is not." Okay, this one was actually a lie. Percy absolutely remembered doing this.

"But records from such-and-such dates show that so-and-so power levels were elevated in the studio's sector of the power grid," responded the prosecution. "Mr. King, you're aware you're under oath?"

"If such an action took place," Percy responded, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, "then it was without my knowledge and authorization."

"I see. What about the secret subway, then? Would you care to explain why you had an escape route planned in the event of a disaster in the town?"

"The secret subway was only ever a partially completed public works project," Percy maintained, which was another half-truth at best. "Just because it was never finished, or even announced, doesn't mean it wasn't partly functional."

The prosecuting lawyer looked over at the courtroom audience intently. "How interesting, then, that it was apparently just functional enough to spirit you and Mr. Sparker out of Electricopolis. Why run if you had nothing to hide?"

Percy hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to drag his daughter into this. "I never intended to," he claimed. "Mr. Sparker..."

He caught Bob's gaze. They exchanged brief, almost imperceptible nods, and Percy relaxed.

"I offered Mr. Sparker the opportunity to leave, rather than face mob justice. In response, he forcibly, uh..." Percy searched for the words. "Demanded I leave with him. He kidnapped me, in so many words."

"Kidnapped you! Really!" The prosecuting lawyer gave him an incredulous look. "Do you expect us to believe that, after you come back hand-in-hand?"

Percy smiled. "We managed to work things out."

"How heartwarming for you, as your poor daughter worked to save the city whose resources you squandered." The counselor tsk-tsked at Percy as she crossed her arms. "No further questions for this witness, Your Honor."

The judge, an older man with a severe countenance, looked down at his paperwork and adjusted his half-rimmed glasses. "Very well, Counselor Carmine."

"And now for the moment you've all been waiting for," said one of the radio journalists in the press box, whispering into her microphone. "Bob Sparker takes the stand in his own defense."

Bob stood and walked over to the witness stand. He sat down, smoothing his suit, and clasped his hands in front of him politely. What on earth was he going to do?

Maddeningly, the answer was "nothing." He answered each question from Percy's lawyer as honestly as he could, as humbly as he could manage, and as succinctly as was necessary. Percy wanted to strangle him when he came back to the defendants' table.

"What was that?" Percy whispered. "I thought you had a plan!"

"I do," Bob whispered back. "Just be patient, okay?"

The rest of the trial proceeded without incident. "Before I deliver my sentence," said the judge, peering over his glasses down at Bob and Percy, "are there any final statements you'd wish to offer?"

Bob stood up. "Yes, Your Honor. I'd like to say a few words."

Ah, Percy thought. Here we go.

"Ladies and gentlemen… esteemed members of the court…" Bob began politely. "You know the facts of the case. You know about the Electric Festival, the blackout—hell, you even know about Alice Lang and the unfortunate accident that kicked off this entire chain of events in the first place. But there's something you don't know."

A silence fell in the courtroom. Everyone present craned forward, listening intently. Even the judge. Even, though she tried to pretend otherwise, Paulina Sweet.

"Even after the blackout… even after being betrayed by Mr. King…" Bob continued. "I still wanted nothing more than to come back to the city, and I wanted Percy King to come back, too. Not just because it's our home, but because we wanted to make things right. We wanted to give the best of us to our city, because it--because you--deserve it."

"But I've been doing a lot of thinking since we've been gone," he continued. "An awful lot of people have been calling for our exile, and some people have been calling for us to stay and serve our time. But what if... just hear me out... what if there's a way to accomplish both at the same time? What if there's a way to pay our dues to Electricopolis without straining relations in the city any more than we already have?"

Bob turned, gesturing to the courtroom audience. "Folks, we saw a lot of things outside the city walls. There are forests beyond the mountain range. Meadows, roads, oceans, villages--and people. People who fear and even hate us, even though they've never met us. People who call Electricopolis a cursed town. Maybe that was true, once, but it certainly isn't now. Not with the sunlight back and a desire to make things right."

"Mr. Sparker," said the judge. "What exactly are you proposing here?"

Bob turned to the judge and looked up at him. "Make us ambassadors," he said. "Appoint us representatives of Electricopolis and let us roam free. We'll tell everyone on the planet about how wonderful our city is. About how it glittered in the night like a diamond necklace, and now it shines in the noonday sun. About how we've changed, shifting our focus from inwards to outwards. We're ready to connect to the outside world!"

He began to raise his voice. "Electricopolis is the greatest city on the planet, and it's time the whole world knew it!" He turned towards the courtroom audience once more. "What do you say, folks?"

There was a full, anxious pause—and the audience began to slowly stand up one by one. Soon they were showering Bob Sparker with applause as hollering and cheering filled the air. He beamed, and it was a sight Percy hadn't seen since the man had last been on the air.

"The people have spoken!" Bob announced, with a grand wave of his hand. "Sounds like it's time to take Electricopolis on tour!"

The judge looked down, saw himself clapping, then cleared his throat with a harrumph and tapped his gavel on the podium. "Order, order!" he said firmly. "Mr. Sparker, thank you for your rousing remarks. However, this is still nominally a court of law, and therefore, I call for a recess while I consider your proposition. Misters King and Sparker, meet me in my quarters in five."

---

After everyone crowded into the judge's quarters, there was hardly any room for the judge himself: aside from Percy and Bob, Margaret and Jam had argued their way in…along with President Laurent Amar of Rubyred Industries, and his minion Paulina Sweet. (The attorneys, being largely for show, were excused.)

"This is a ridiculous idea," President Amar argued. "It's clear that this clown here proposed it so he and Mr. King could escape their deserved punishment."

"He does raise a good point, though," said the judge, steepling his fingers together. "It would preserve order in the city, and keep them out of trouble besides."

"I promise you we aren't trying to pull a fast one," Bob protested. "Listen, don't you want us out of your hair, Mr. Amar? You already have control of the town. You have the people's approval. You even have us in the palm of your hand. All we want is a chance to do right for once."

Amar fixed him with a steely look, thinking. "I suppose," he said slowly, "I could be convinced to give this harebrained scheme a chance. With a few stipulations of my own, of course."

"And those are?" asked Mr. King.

"Just a few conditions. Small things. Trifles, really. First," said Amar, holding up a pale finger, "I want to know everything you are doing. Regular reports back on where you go, what you do and whom you encounter."

Bob cocked his head. "Sure, no problem. I'm sure we can radio back or something. What else?"

Amar smiled. It was a thin smile, and his eyes narrowed with a cold shine. "Second, to ensure your continued cooperation, I require that you bring an escort of my own choosing."

"An escort?" Percy echoed. "Whom did you have in mind?"

Amar's smile widened. "Why, my very own Paulina Sweet."

"Wait, what?" Bob exclaimed. "You're not gonna send us off with that snake, are you?"

"Wait, what?" Paulina herself (who had been standing silently next to Amar, occasionally backing him up with a conspiratorial snicker) jumped about three feet in the air. "M-Mr. President," she stammered, turning pale. "You're not serious, are you? I-I just got out of prison, and you're kicking me out again?"

"Paulina, please." Amar yawned, patting his mouth with an impeccably manicured hand. "This is a very important mission, and I require someone with your talents for… reconnaissance." He smiled once more. "Surely you wouldn't turn down a request from me, personally."

Paulina glanced from him to Bob Sparker and Percy, then back again. A myriad of emotions fluttered across her face, and she settled on a kind of resigned mortification. "Whatever you say, Mr. President," she said through gritted teeth.

"Wait, wait." Percy held up a hand. "If you're assigning Paulina to watch over us, then I reserve the right to choose an escort as well."

"I don't see the harm," said Amar. "Name them."

"Well…" Percy glanced at the assembly. "Margaret needs to manage the company in my absence. Bob will be our public-facing liaison, while I handle business and negotiations with our sister cities. That leaves…" He thought. "Well, we may need a radio expert for our transmissions. And possibly a survival expert."

All eyes settled on Jam. "Oh, no," he protested, holding his hands up. "No no no. You're not roping me into this."

"Who else would we use? Miss Information? She's almost as bad as Paulina!" Bob said.

"One moment," said Percy to the judge. He turned around, gesturing to bring Bob, Margaret, and Jam together in a huddle. "This is important. It might be our only chance to negotiate this."

"Someone who knows their way around radio…" Jam mused. "And someone who can stand Bob Sparker…and, ideally, someone who can live on the road…"

A brief silence fell on the group.

"Well," Jam said, "I think I know a guy…maybe." He turned to the judge. "Your Honor, can I make a phone call? I gotta get someone down here right away."

---

Fifteen minutes later, an older man—late forties, possibly, or early fifties, with soft, tightly curled gray hair framing his face—sat in one of the plush chairs in the judge's quarters, wringing a handkerchief in his hands with worry. His skin was tan and beaded with sweat. "Folks," Kelly Kim said slowly, "I think there's been some kind of mistake."

"Listen, I know it's not ideal…" Jam began.

"I'll say it's not," Paulina scoffed, folding her arms together. "What does a washed-up old radio jockey know about roughing it? He's not even a real cowboy."

"Hey!" Bob snapped. "He's as close to one as you're gonna find in this town! And he's not washed up!"

"I'm washed up enough," Kim protested, holding up a hand. "I'm no spring chicken, folks. And I know my way around a campfire, sure, but there were never many of those in town…"

"Mr. Kim," Percy said politely, if with a note of exasperation in his voice. "Please try to understand. There are few people in town who would give Bob and I the time of day, and even fewer of those who have any conception of what life on the road would entail. Unfortunately, you're really the best choice we have."

Kim looked around, and his gaze settled on Bob Sparker. Bob gazed back. It was almost painful, those large eyes, the way they quavered with guilt. They seemed to apologize for a thousand things, too many to even begin to say.

"Well," Bob said, "I think I might know someone." He turned to the judge. "Your Honor, can I make a phone call? I gotta get someone down here right away!"

---

Fifteen minutes later, an older man—late forties, possibly, or early fifties, with soft gray hair framing his face—sat in one of the plush chairs in the judge's quarters, wringing a handkerchief in his hands with worry. His skin was tan and beaded with sweat. "Folks," Kelly Kim said slowly, "I think there's been some kind of mistake."

"Listen, we know it's not ideal…" Jam began.

"I'll say it's not," Paulina scoffed, folding her arms together. "What does a washed-up old radio jockey know about roughing it? He's not even a real cowboy."

"Hey!" Bob snapped. "He's as close to one as you're gonna find in this town! And he's not washed up!"

"I'm washed up enough," Kim protested, holding up a hand. "I'm no spring chicken, folks. And I know my way around a campfire, sure, but there were never many of those in town…"

"Mr. Kim," Percy said politely, if with a note of exasperation in his voice. "Please try to understand. There are few people in town who would give Bob and I the time of day, and even fewer of those who have any conception of what life on the road would entail. Unfortunately, you're really the best choice we have."

Kim looked around, and his gaze settled on Bob Sparker. Bob gazed back. It was almost painful, those large eyes, the way they quavered with guilt. They seemed to apologize for a thousand things, too many to even begin to say.

"Can, uh…" Bob licked his lips nervously. "Can Mr. Kim and I maybe have a moment?"

The others filed out of the room quietly, leaving Sparker and Kim alone in the judge's quarters.

"I'm sorry," said Bob in an anxious rush. "I know it's… it's been a long time. And I know it's an absurd amount to ask."

"It's not that I don't wanna help you," Kim responded, hanging his head. "I do, really. But I… I don't know if I'm cut out for life on the road. Not like this. Not in the real world."

"Hey, I wasn't. But I learned." Bob pulled up a chair and sat down across from Kelly Kim. "Remember when you used to talk about life on the plains? How one day you'd wanna live and work and ride under the blue sky?"

Kim looked up, meeting Bob's eyes. "That was… just a dream."

"It's real." Bob took Kim's hand in his own and folded his fingers around it. "I've been there, Kelly. I've seen it. There's a whole big, wide world out there. And it'd mean an awful lot to me if I could only share it with you."

"Well, partner, if that's the case…" Kelly Kim broke into a gentle, warm smile. "Then that's all you had to say."

Bob's eyes widened, and then he beamed with a smile so bright it practically lit up the room. "You're the best, Kelly Kim!" he whooped, almost tackling him in a hug. "The two—well, four of us—the open road, a for-real globe-trotting adventure…" He clasped his hands together. "This might turn out to be something special after all!"

---

In the end, the judge and attorneys were really ancillary to the resolution of the "trial of the century." Once Mr. King and Mr. Amar shook hands, the case was decided behind the scenes. Back on TV, in a stunning turn of events, Percy and Bob were appointed the Official Municipal Ambassadors of Electricopolis. Their mission: to scout out the environs of their home continent, report back with what they found, and extol the virtues of their fair city wherever they went.

Preparations came together fairly quickly after that. The Municipal Self-Defense Force donated most of the food and supplies, including a camp stove, tent, tools, rations and retort pouches, and survival guides. The guides themselves were dated and largely theoretical; the furthest the MSDF had ever been was the foot of the mountain range that ringed Electric Valley. It was better than nothing, at least.

Aside from that, each member of the team was allowed three days to wrap up any remaining business they had in town; and at the end of it, the team assembled at the edge of the city under the morning sun.

Under previous circumstances, Bob and Percy had left from the station beneath the Top Tier HQ building, but because Amar was in charge, he had demanded to make the team's excursion a capital-p Production. A mass of crowds formed on the roads that circled the city, and their cheers were carried on the wind as Bob, Percy, and Kelly Kim waved towards them. Paulina looked away.

"Welp." Kim hefted up his travel pack up onto his back. "Better start hoofin' it, I suppose."

"Wait, wait. Where's Jam and Margaret?" Bob peered at the crowd, squinting his eyes. His gaze darted through the crowd as he tried to pick out his friend. "They said they were gonna be here. I don't wanna leave without seeing them."

All of a sudden, there was a honk honk sound as the crowd parted. Rolling down the road towards the dusty earth was Bob Sparker's very own muscle car, newly repaired and shining. "Bob!" Margie said, laughing from where she was seated in the driver's seat. Jam waved from where he was riding shotgun. "You didn't think you weren't gonna go off in style, were you?"

"Margie! Jam!" Bob gave his friend a hug as she came over to the group. "You guys had this repaired just for me?"

"I called in a friend of mine," she said mischievously, winking. "A certain hellion who wanted to apologize for almost wrecking your car a while back. He completely worked it over—shocks, suspensions, the works! It off-roads like a champ! And we have a platform at the subway just for it, so you can take it with you!"

Soon, their supplies were loaded into the trunk and the four explorers sat snug on the leather chairs of Bob's muscle car. Margaret leaned over the drivers side door, hugging her friend.

"You're gonna radio back, right?" she asked firmly. Bob nodded.

Jam looked over to Kelly Kim, riding in the driver's side back seat. "You're gonna keep Bob out of trouble, right, Kelly?"

"I'll do my best," he laughed, tipping the brim of his hat. "No promises, though."

Margaret smiled, then went to the passenger side and gave her father, who was riding shotgun, a long and emotional hug. "Be safe, okay, Dad?" she whispered. He nodded and held her tight, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

Margaret stood up, wiping a tear from her eye. She leaned over again, trying to look stone-faced as she pointed at Paulina sharply. "And if you cause any trouble, I'm gonna come after you personally!"

"Relax, princess!" Paulina laughed, kicking up her feet onto Percy's headrest obnoxiously. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Then I guess that's all." Margaret stood up and stepped back. "Safe travels, everyone!"

"Hold down the fort for us, okay, guys?" Bob exclaimed. He reached forward, turned the key, and pulled back the gearshift, bringing the car roaring to life. "C'mon, folks! Let's get this show on the road!"

End of Season 3

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