The Justice Nerds - Robert, Cody, Dayna (sad books to read .TXT) 📗

drugs in his system.
“Get away from me, you CRAZY LOON!” The mysterious drugs had suddenly given him a weird urge, a non-ignorable desire to… !! In an instant he had burst from his restraints, grabbed the startled man under his knees, and flipped him high into the air. The little man flipped with such velocity, end over end over end, that he crashed through the ceiling of the Underground Super-Secret Laboratory of Unexplainable Weirdness and landed on the dark side of the moon.
Pilf, standing there, had a face of amazement, holy-cowness, and wowzer-like-ness. He was amazed by what had just happened and let out a roar, or more like a squeak. And then he said those unforgettable words:


Pilf woke up in a daze with an actual pool of drool at least a foot deep. He wiped the remaining spit from his lower lip. He stood and walked over to the door. He opened the door to drain his room. Then he walked to Xavian’s room, stumbling over his own feet. There is very loud music shaking the walls. He kicks open the door, and notices that R.F. and The Linebacker are up on a stage that wasn’t supposed to be there. They were screaming and rocking out, Xavian was on drums, Kyle on guitar, and a change-loving hobo on bass.
“Yeahhh!” Kyle screamed as the roar of the recently discovered crowd got louder. “That’s all we have tonight, so thank you for coming and remember….” Kyle savors the moment. “CALM DOWN!” he screamed.
“What is going on?” Paper Kut said as she entered the room. “I’m trying to sleep.” Everything gets silent as Kyle is thinking of an excuse. Then in the distance ‘BOOM!’. They all heard.
“Dang it, not again!” Kamikaze erupted.
“CALM DOWN!” Kyle yelled
“You calm down!” Kamikaze roared back. Out of Kamikaze’s room came a flying hand that came smack-dab to Kyle’s face and then exploded.
“Go to #@%% Kamikaze!” Kyle exclaimed. While Kyle ranted on with ‘usual’ business, Pilf came up and flipped Kyle to the roof and said,
“Shut up!” As Kyle fell back, Paper Kut folded a piece of paper into a trampoline, which softened the fall.
“Oooh! A campfire!!” Paper Kut exclaimed excitedly, distracted. She whisked the trampoline right out from under Kyle and turned it back into a piece of paper. She then pulled a marshmallow from her pocket, stole a drum stick from Royal Flush, and began toasting the marshmallow over the flames. Instantly it caught on fire and she offered it to Pilf. “Want one? They’re tastey!”
“No, just no,” Pilf answered. A few moments passed and P.K. choked on the awesome-tasting marshmallow.
“OMG!” Kyle roared.
“Does anyone know a doctor?” Pilf asked.
“I know a doctor,” Kamikaze announced. He paused for like 2 minutes. ‘BOOM!’ “It’s ME!”
“You’re a doctor?” Pilf said.
“… yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am sure.”
“Are you positive?”
“I am positive.”
“Are you absolutely su—“
“Are you going to help her or not?!” interrupted R.F.
“Oh, right, I forgot,” said DOCTOR Kamikaze.
“Forgot what—to be a DOCTOR?!” said Kyle.
“Um, well… uh…. Hey, I remember how I became a DOCTOR! It was about the same time I got my power. It was like I got it yesterday….”
“Oohh! A flashback!” Kyle said excitedly.
“Shut it….”
As the story faded into the flashback, P.K. collapsed on the floor, struggling to breathe through a mouthful of gooey marshmallow. Her face has turned as white as the paper she wields.
….

“Can’t we just pretend you gave me the shot?” the young boy asked hopefully, cringing back against the crinkly hospital bed.
“Then I would be blamed when you catch a virus and are on the verge of death because you can’t fight it off,” Kamikaze said bluntly in one breath. While he was busy disinfecting the intended point of insertion on the boy’s arm (with his back to his table of instruments) a hobo slipped into the room. The filthy man tip-toed to the table (literally, because his big toe was sticking out of a hole in his boot) and, for no particular reason at all, switched the needles. He replaced the flu shot with a needle that looked exactly the same except for a dirty fingerprint.
The hobo disappeared right as the doctor turned around to grab the needle. Kamikaze’s hand reached for the needle… closer… closer… his fingers a fraction of an inch away….

P.K. could stand it no longer. Fingers trembling with lack of oxygen, she folded a piece of paper into a wickedly sharp needle and popped Kamikaze’s flashback bubble.
“Can’t… breathe!!” she choked, grabbing onto Kamikaze’s ankle.
“Uuuggghh…” Kamikaze sighed. “Fine. Let me through.” He moved through the room, seeming to pass through many people. However, there were only 4 other people in the room. “OK. Relax. Let me perform the Hind-Letty-Me-Doey-The-Coughingy-Maneuver.” He bit off a tiny piece of his finger, threw it in her mouth, hid, and shouted, “Take cover!!”
Everyone jumped out of the way while P.K. sat there, tearing. A few moments later, there was a loud popping sound: then the sound of someone hurling. Everyone, even Kyle, looked to see what happened. P.K., sitting there in disgust, was holding a squished marshmallow that looked like someone had nuked it. And, of all things, a hobo who seemed to be obsessed with change walked in, noticed the ‘worn-out’ marshmallow, and asked to have it.
“Sure…” P.K. gasped, still trying to get oxygen to her starved brain. She pulled a piece of paper out of her mane of hair and she used it to patch the hole in Kamikaze’s flashback. “You… can continue…” she wheezed.

Kamikaze’s fingers finally closed around the syringe, and he lifted it above his head, ready to plunge it into the arm of the boy cowering in front of him. A single drop of liquid oozed from its tip, glinting ominously.
Suddenly a nurse burst into the room, knocking his arm.
“Ooops!” she said, embarrassed. “Wrong room!” But the damage had already been done. Kamikaze looked down at the needle protruding from his chest. The little boy giggled happily.
Kamikaze could feel the liquid rushing through his veins. Kamikaze fell to the floor, in pain as the same hobo came in and took the DOCTOR‘s wallet while he was vulnerable. Suddenly, a rush of images pulsed through his head; images of explosions. He was in fetal position when he realized that the boy was no longer in his giggly state: he was searching in the DOCTOR‘s desk for something. Of all things, the boy pulled out a clickable pen.
The boy grinned evilly, and then began the torment and torture. CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!
No! Stop!”
CLICK! CLICK!
“I mean it, stop!”
CLICK! CLICK!
*Now, with all that… er, clicking, the DOCTOR could feel something boiling up inside him, deep inside. Finally, he could not take it anymore.*
“Gah! I can’t take it anymore!”
CLICK! CLICK! Now with that last click… KA-BOOM! Then the nurse came back in and the doorknob went CLICK! CLICK! BOOM! with a bigger explosion. Then the lady at the front desk on her computer; her mouse went CLICK! CLICK! BOOM! The last explosion destroyed the whole building. As the dust was settling Kamikaze emerged from the cloud of smoke. Then when he was like a half of a football field away a plane crashed into the destroyed building. BOOM!

“So your powers came to be kind of like mine?” Pilf asked.
“No, I didn’t get my arms cut off,” Kamikaze said.
“But kind of.”
“No, I was not a cop.”
“But—“
“No, I don’t flip things.”
“Bu—“
“Shut up!” Kyle screamed. Pilf and Kamikaze just stared at Kyle. Both were cross-eyed.
“This is good… mmm,” P.K. said as she ate more marshmallows. Everyone stared at P.K. and she stopped eating and stared back, with a mouth full of marshmallows. Then she just smiled.
“Wait, so there was a hobo in everyone’s story so far?” R.F. asked. Everyone thought.
“Yeah, I think,” everyone answered.
“Well, I guess it’s your turn, P.K.,” Pilf said. P.K. swallowed the rest of her marshmallows.
“Alright, here we go.” P.K. starts.

P.K. descended in slow motion on a magnificent pedestal, bathed in a halo of golden light. All around her are shelves and shelves of leather-bound books in mint condition, just waiting to be read.
I wish.
Instead, P.K. sat at a rickety old table that squeaked any time she moved, amid a bunch of crowded bookshelves whose inhabitants were in varying states of deterioration. The air was 50% dust and really stuffy.
P.K. sighed heavily, slowly flipping a coffee-stained page in utter boredom. “Dumb homework…” she mumbled. Her eyelids began to droop. She propped her chin up on her hand, fighting to stay awake. It was a battle she was destined to lose. Her eyelids quivered, slid the last few centimeters shut….
BANG! P.K. tumbled out of her chair in a flurry of paper.
“Ooopsies! My bad!” There was a loud rattling noise as a hobo pushing a shopping cart appeared around one of the shelves. He appeared to be walking with a limp: probably because his foot looked like it had swollen to the size of Kyle’s head.
Anyways, he ‘waddled’ back and forth, looking for something—“

“Was it change?” Pilf interrupted.
“Wha—no! It was not change!” Kamikaze shouted, disrupting the story.
“What was it then, ‘DOCTOR’?” Pilf said.
“Dyn-a-mite!”
“Shut ‘yer keester, Kamikaze!”
“Go jump off a cliff, Pilf.”
“CALM DOWN!” exclaimed Kyle.
“All three of you shut your pie-holes!” shouted P.K. “OK, where was I? Oh yeah….”

Anyway… after pretending to be looking for something, the hobo nonchalantly edged his way closer to P.K., who had regained her seat.
Then, without warning, he bent down right next to her face. His breath was hot in her ear and smelled like cat food. P.K. stiffened in alarm.
“Guess what?” he breathed.
Silence.
“I have something for you!” the hobo exclaimed. The source of his limp was discovered to be a gigantic book that he pulled out of his sock. The book landed on the table with a resounding bang in front of P.K. It was big. And shiny. But most of all, big.
“Wha--?” P.K. turned around in confusion, but the hobo had mysteriously disappeared. “Huh.” P.K. shrugged. Anything was better than homework at the moment, no matter what the source. Plus the book was shiiiny.
There was an ominous cracking sound from the spine of the book as P.K. dramatically opened its cover in slow motion. A mysterious wind from a nonexistent window rustled through her hair.
The pages were blank.
“What?!?!” P.K. rifled through the pages, but there was not a single word to be found. “What a waste of a dramatic opening,” she complained.
Suddenly something flared to life in the center of the book. The light grew brighter and brighter and brighter until it couldn’t have possibly been more bright, and the ghostly phantom of the book’s spirit (even though we all know normal books don’t have spirits) erupted out of the pages, slamming into P.K.’s chest. Once again, P.K. was knocked backwards in her chair, this time with bone-crushing force.
The book’s spirit surged through her body as she lay on the floor, eyes open wide, unable to move. On the tiny molecular level the spirit’s DNA mixed with hers, so that half of her chromosomes were human, and half little pieces of paper.

“And that’s how it happened!”
“Interesting…” said Pilf.
“Intriguing…” said Kamikaze, all DOCTOR –like. “So this spirit merged with your DNA? Why, this is