Velveteen vs. the Junior Super Patriots Read Online Free Page B

the Bay Area.
    “—ooOoooOoo!” squealed Cyndi. “My favorite show is starting!” Grabbing a remote control from beneath the counter, she clicked the coffee shop’s television into sudden, blaring life. A few patrons looked up, scowling, but settled once they saw the screen. Apparently, Cyndi’s tastes were well known to the regulars, and tolerated because of her place in the circle of coffee. Velma had her back to the screen, and while she heard the set click on, she didn’t see the channel, or realize what Cyndi was turning on.
    And then the theme music flooded the room. The damnable, familiar theme music, with its bouncy major key and its easy-to-sing lyrics that burrowed into the brain like tapeworms. The theme that had haunted her dreams for years, and her nightmares for even longer. The theme that was like Pavlov’s bell for middle school students all over the country, causing them to turn and start begging their parents for the latest toys, clothes, and tie-in novels.
    The bane of Velma’s existence.
    “Welcome!” shrieked the announcer, sounding like he’d just been told that failure to show the proper enthusiasm would result in the execution of his entire family. “Welcome to the show you’ve all been waiting for—the end of the annual talent search that introduces you, America, to the latest members of The Junior Super Patriots, West Coast Division!”
    (As if it were really a contest. As if most of the “hopeful applicants” weren’t paid actors faking super powers through special effects and cunning bluescreening, to make it seem like the latest products of the Marketing Machine had actually done something to earn their places on the team. Hell, as if most of those new members had actually volunteered to be there. Velma wasn’t the only kid superhero to be essentially sold to her handlers. She was just one of the only ones where the conditioning didn’t take, and there was nothing she could really be blackmailed with. Threatening her parents made her giggle, and threatening to suppress her powers did much the same.)
    “We’ve had a great run this season, with everything from the awe and terror of the aerial battles—all supervised by our very own Sparkle Bright, current co-leader of The Super Patriots, West Coast Division!—to the mind-boggling intellectual battles conducted under the watchful eye of String Theory and Uncertainty. But now, at the end of our journey, only six contestants are left standing to compete for the three precious slots available on this year’s lineup! We’ve taken a moment to talk with our judges, and see what they have to say about the matter.”
    Sparkle Bright’s familiar, dulcet tones, more annoying in their own way than Cyndi’s squeaking: “Well, Brian, we haven’t had a selection like this in years. As you know, we’ve sometimes been forced to take special-needs supers by a lack of available talent. Not this year. This year, it’s all gold.”
    Sparkle Bright was talking about Velveteen, of course. They served together as children, and they would have been archrivals during their teen years, if only Vel had been able to stir herself to give that much of a crap. Shoulders locked, Velma kept clearing tables, not even glancing at the screen.
    “It is probable that one or more of the remaining contestants will be elected to join the team,” said Uncertainty, with his usual vague air of “I am doing eighteen things at the same time, and you need to just stop irritating me.” “It is equally probable that all three positions will be filled. The probability that a giant monster will attack the arena is eight point three percent. The probability that you are about to cut away from me is—”
    “Uh, hi, Brian.” The voice was deep without being pretentious, hesitant without being unsure, commanding without being arrogant. It was, in short, perfect. “Yeah, this is the last lap of the contest. I like some of the new kids. They’re okay. Mobius has