By Gary Curtis

Disclaimer: Powerpuff Girls created by Craig McCracken and related characters owned by Cartoon Network. Use of any 'real' persons in this story is done without permission and is done only in fun and not for profit.

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Buttercup opened her eyes, stretched her arms and yawned. She glanced in each direction to see her sisters snoring on either side of her; and thought to herself, "Must not be time to get up yet...Blossom's always first one ready for school..."

With a pleased look, she let her eyelids slide shut, then they flew open. "Hey, it's Saturday! I don't hafta go to school!"

Within seconds, she had flown out of bed and completed her morning rituals and was fully dressed, leaving behind only her trademark green streak.

"Hey Guys, get up! It's Saturday!"

Blossom rolled over and groaned, "Lemme alone...huh? Yay, it's Saturday!" and she was up and dressed just as quickly.

"Bubbles! Get up!" Blossom called out.

"No." Bubbles pulled the blanket over her head. "I wanna sleep." was her muffled complaint, as her sisters floated over her with their arms crossed, frowning.

Buttercup yanked the covers off the bed. "Get up! It's your turn to make breakfast an' I'm hungry!"

Blossom said, "Yeah, Bubbles, me too. Hurry up! Hey Buttercup, last one to the kitchen's a rotten egg!"

As they flew out of their room, Bubbles sat up in bed. "Is it really Saturday?" she asked groggily. She looked over at the alarm clock on the table on her side of the bed and read the time: 8:15. She jumped. "Oh no! Time's a wastin'!"

Buttercup slammed the refrigerator door in disgust. "Aw, man, we're outta eggs!"

Blossom chided her. "Well, if you weren't such a pig all week we'd still have some. We're going to Malph's later, anyway, we can have eggs tomorrow."

"Yeah, Blossom, but we're outta OJ too, and there's only enough milk for one of us. We got any bread?"

Blossom pulled the breadbox door open, took a quick look inside the plastic bag and made a face. "None that isn't the color of your eyes."

"Oh, great!" Buttercup floated glumly over to the table and was about to sit down when she spotted a piece of paper on it. "Hey, look! It's a note from Professor!"

Blossom hurried over. "Maybe he went to the store!" The two of them read the note:

'Girls, I'm working on a very delicate experiment down in the lab. Please do not disturb me. Professor.'

"Rats!" Buttercup grumbled.

Blossom turned around. "Hey, something's wrong. Professor forgot his coffee." She floated over to where his 'Science is Cool' mug was sitting on the counter near the stove. She looked into it and saw instant coffee but nothing else. "We must be outta sugar, too."

"Oh, brother." replied Buttercup. "What's going on? We're out of everything!"

Just then, Bubbles floated into the kitchen. Buttercup sat down and rested her elbows on the table and propped up her chin with her hands. "Forget it, Bubbles. We don't have anything to eat."

"Huh?"Bubbles answered in surprise.

"Nope." Blossom said. "No eggs, no milk, sugar, orange juice..."

"No bread even?"

"Just some that's about to sprout horns an' attack Townsville!" laughed Buttercup.

Bubbles closed her eyes and said confidently, "Well, don't you worry 'bout a thing. The Great Chef Bubbles will whip up one of her masterpieces in no time!"

In a blue flash she swept around the kitchen and moments later placed three steaming bowls on the table.

"No fair!" cried Blossom. "You cheated! You used your superpowers!"

"I'll eat yours, you don't want it." said Buttercup, adding, "Hey, what is this stuff? It looks like oatmeal."

Bubbles replied, "It IS oatmeal, silly!"

Buttercup shot back, "Oh, like any one of us couldn't make that. I want FOOD, not plain old OATMEAL!" She started to shovel hers in anyway.

Bubbles said, unperturbed, "That's cause I didn't put in the pizza transistor yet."

Buttercup spit out her mouthful of oatmeal and Blossom laughed, holding her sides. "Bubbles, you mean 'piece de resistance'!"

"That's what I said!" Bubbles said, her feelings hurt.

"Yeah, well what is it?" asked Buttercup, suspiciously.

"This!" Bubbles whipped out a jar with a shaker lid, half full of a brown powdery substance.

Blossom said, "what IS it?"

"I call it 'essence of Bubbles'." Bubbles stated proudly.

"Who do you think you are, that Emeril guy?" Buttercup wanted to know.

"I'm his 'sistant'" said Bubbles, huffily. "An' if you're gonna be like that, you can't have any!"

"Please, Bubbles, just tell us what that stuff is." pleaded Blossom.

"Oh, some sugar, some spice..."

Blossom was nervous. "Bubbles, you didn't put any Chemical X in there, did you?"

"Yeah, Bubbles, we can't EAT it!" Buttercup said, a bit worried herself.

Bubbles was shocked. "Boy, you guys are stupid! If we put THAT in our tummies, we'd be havin' babies! I'm too little to be a Mommy!"

Blossom looked at Buttercup. "You know, that's not as dumb as it sounds."

Buttercup's eyebrows shot up. "We better ask Professor!"

Bubbles poured some of the powder onto her other hand and flung it into her oatmeal. "BAM!" she shouted. "BAM!" In went another handful. She set the jar down.

Her sisters rolled their eyes and looked at each other. She sat down and started stirring her oatmeal and eating it. "Yum!"

Buttercup lunged for the jar at the same instant as Blossom, but they were both too slow. Bubbles snatched it away with an evil grin.

"Aw, c'mon, kick mine up a notch!" Buttercup said.

Bubbles looked at her, then at Blossom; expectantly.

"Oh, all right. Pleeeaase?" Buttercup whined in the sweetest tone she could muster.

Bubbles handed her the jar. Shouts of, "BAM!" and giggling soon filled the kitchen.

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Blossom took Professor's coffee mug out of the microwave and touched the surface of the liquid. It seemed hot enough. The oven's clock read 9:05.

"We got a couple hours to kill. You guys clean up and when I get back we can figure out what we're gonna do this weekend if there's no crimes to fight."

Careful not to spill any, she floated with the coffee mug in both hands downstairs to the laboratory and knocked on the door softly. Then again, with more force. She was just about to try a third knock when it opened, and she looked a somewhat angered Professor in the face.

"Girls, I asked you not to bother me, didn't you see my note?"

His features softened when he saw those large pink eyes; Blossom shyly holding the mug out to him. "You forgot your coffee."

"Oh, thanks, honey." he said, taking it from her. "But I thought we ran out of sugar. You know I can't..."

"Bubbles had some hid away. I think there's cinnamon in it, too."

He sipped it and his eyes showed surprise. "Hey, this is good!"

"Professor? Is everything okay?"

"What do you mean, Blossom?"

"We're almost out of food and I just remembered we forgot to go shopping last Saturday an' it's Saturday again. Are we going to Malph's today?"

He shifted his weight on his feet and seemed uncomfortable. He rubbed his chin and didn?t look directly at her. "Um, no, not today...We'll go tomorrow... that's it, tomorrow. Now,..."

He indicated over his shoulder with his thumb and backpedaled into the lab; giving her a whispered, "Thanks." as the door closed in her face.

* * * * * * *

With the kitchen now straightened up, Buttercup looked at Bubbles. They had been discussing the food crisis. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Bubbles floated over to the 'junk drawer', opened it and pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil. "Let's go!"

Their colored streaks followed them as they raced quickly through the kitchen, then off through other parts of the house; ending up outside their room. They floated in dejectedly and Bubbles tossed the pad and pencil on the bed and sat next to them, her head in her hands.

Buttercup was angry. "We're almost out of toothpaste, detergent, soap, kleenex...Man, we NEVER run out of that stuff!"

"Buttercup, when's the last time we went to the store?" Bubbles asked.

Buttercup pondered this for a moment. "Bubbles, we didn't go last week, did we?"

"No, we didn't." said Blossom.

Bubbles and Buttercup both turned their startled faces toward their sister as she drifted into the room.

"And we aren't going today, either."

"WHAT?!" Buttercup shouted.

"Professor acted real strange, like he didn't want to talk about it. He said we'd go tomorrow, but I don't believe him."

Bubbles started to sniffle. "But we're down to our last roll of T.P.!"

Buttercup looked out through the round windows. "Well, there's lots of leaves. Good thing it ain't winter. Blossom, what the heck is going on?"

Before Blossom could answer, they heard a squeal of brakes from outside.

"Mailman! I'll get it!" and Buttercup was gone through a window.

Blossom said, "C'mon, Bubbles, let's meet her downstairs."

They were already waiting for her in the living room when she opened the door and walked in. Blossom knew immediately something wasn't right. Buttercup flew everywhere, she hated to walk.

"Buttercup, what'd you do, scare the mailman again and hafta chase 'im down the street? Buttercup? What's wrong?"

"I feel sick."

She handed the stack of mail to Blossom and headed straight for the couch. A very worried Bubbles hurried to put her arm around Buttercup and sit next to her.

"Was it the oatmeal?"

Blossom kept one eye on her sisters and began flipping through the mail. She suddenly understood, as she felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. Mixed in with the junk was a handful of bills, all with pink paper showing through their windows. All but two said 'Final Notice' on them; the two that didn't were from the phone company and Townsville Gas & Electric. Both had the words 'Disconnect Notice' in big red print on their envelopes. She managed to not drop anything on the floor, leaving the mail on the coffee table on her way to sit next to Bubbles.

"Oh, no."

Buttercup continued to just stare blankly into space. Bubbles started to cry.

"Girls, what's going on?"

Blossom started in a flat voice, "Bubbles, Professor's not paying the bills. We must be broke."

"We're poor? WAAAAHHHH!"

"Don't cry, Bubbles, we'll be okay."

Blossom tried to console her sister, but wondered to herself, "Will we? I'm scared!"

Buttercup flew off the couch, taking a throw pillow, and drop kicked it into a picture on the opposite wall. The picture, luckily, didn't break, but hung at a crazy angle. She cut loose with a stream of invective that would make a longshoreman blush. Blossom lunged to cover Bubbles' ears.

"Buttercup! Where did you ever learn THAT?"

"From every bad guy we ever busted and put in jail. They aren't too happy, y'know!"

This came from Bubbles; Blossom hadn't moved quickly enough.

"Oh, yeah. But it's bad to talk like that. Don't ever let me hear either one of you do it again!"

By way of apology, Buttercup said, "Okay. But, Blossom, we gotta do something! Stupid Townsville! We save their sorry butts all the time! Now it's their turn!"

Blossom was mortified. "No! We can't ask for help! Professor would die if everybody found out!" "Me, too.", she thought but didn't say.

Bubbles said, "Maybe we're too 'spensive for Professor to take care of anymore."

"Yeah, what if he hasta pay for all the stuff we break? Maybe we should just leave, we can take care of ourselves." said Buttercup.

It wasn't the first time her sisters had suggested something like this, but leaving Professor was the last thing in the world Blossom ever wanted to do.

"No! We'll think of something."

She thought for a minute. "And I think I know what it is. Wait here!"

She disappeared upstairs, leaving a pink trail behind her.

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

Blossom stood at the small telephone stand in the hallway that led from the living room. Open in front of her was the journal she kept. She held the receiver in her left hand and was poised to dial.

"I don't know why I wrote this number down, but boy, am I glad I did."

"Blossom, what are you doing?" Buttercup wanted to know. She and Bubbles stood a few feet away, watching, with no clue of what their sister was up to.

"Shhhhh!" Blossom dialed.

An indistinguishable sound came over the phone. Blossom disguised her voice into the lowest male sound she could. "Hello? I'd like to play!"

A pause.

"B"

Another brief wait.

"C"

This went on for another few moments, until she had given a response ten times. Then she recited name, address and phone number, said 'thank you' and hung up, all in the false voice. The name she gave was 'Professor Utonium'.

Buttercup snapped, "Blossom, what the heck are you DOING?"

"I'm trying to get Professor on 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire'.

"NO!" her sisters both shouted.

"Blossom, that's great!" Buttercup gushed. "Think you can do it?"

Bubbles asked, "Blossom, what do we do now?"

"We wait."

* * * * * * *

The second hand on the hall clock took hours and the minute hand, weeks. It was 11:45 A.M. this fine Saturday and the Girls' minds were starting to drift from the telephone to the kitchen.

Buttercup broke the silence. "Even if you can pull off this stunt, it might be awhile before we see a penny. I'm hungry now!"

"Buttercup, when AREN'T you hungry?" Blossom shot back.

Bubbles couldn't resist. "I think we got a can of SPAM out there someplace."

"BLEEAAHHH!" came two replies. "Thanks a lot, Bubbles." Buttercup grumbled.

"Works every time!" chuckled Bubbles to herself.

The phone rang and they jumped.

"I'll get it!" yelled Blossom. "Now, remember, SHUT UP!!!"

"Hello?", she said in her own voice, then quickly 'ahem'ed and lowered it. "Yes, this is Professor Utonium. I'm a semi-finalist? That is excellent news!"

Buttercup and Bubbles gave an excited, silent "Yay!"

"What do I have to do next? Oh, I see. Ten more questions."

Buttercup and Bubbles slumped dejectedly. Blossom looked at them and shrugged. She waved at them to get lost and they went into the living room and sat down.

Bubbles looked worried. "Who'da thunk it would be so hard?"

"Ah, if Blossom got this far, it can't be THAT tough. And if Professor gets on, he'll make those other dopes look like Mayor!"

"Yeah, but even if he gets on, it might not be right away."

"Gee, Bubbles, you're right! It could take..."

"Two weeks." Blossom floated into the living room. "We're in!"

They flew to her and hugged her joyously. Then Buttercup said, "Yeah, but two weeks. What are we gonna do until then?"

"I don't know. We can get by that long, I guess." Blossom was doubtful.

Bubbles was still excited. "Maybe Professor's been workin' really hard on somethin' to sell so we can get some money!"

Blossom perked up. "Hey, yeah, Bubbles! Maybe..."

BOOOOOMMMM!!!

The house shook a tiny bit as they heard the explosion from downstairs.

"PROFESSOR!!!!"

When they reached him, he was just coming out the door of the laboratory, wiping soot from his face with a towel.

"Professor!" Bubbles flew right up to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Bubbles, I'm fine. Just a little experiment that didn't go quite right."

Bubbles was heartbroken. "Now you don't have nothin' to sell so we can eat?"

He was dumbfounded. "Bubbles, what are you talking about?"

Blossom jumped in. "Professor, you said we couldn't go to Malph's today 'cause we're goin' tomorrow only we didn't go last week an'..."

Buttercup took over. "...an' we're outta food an' we're outta soap and stuff and..."

Bubbles finished, screaming, "...and we're out of TOILET PAPER!!!"

"Whoa, Girls, calm down! What the heck is going on here?"

"Professor, we have something to show you." Blossom dashed for the living room and was back seconds later with the mail. She handed it to him. He looked through it briefly and his face fell.

"Oh, my. My, oh my. Girls, I am so sorry. Did you ever hear the one about the absent-minded professor? Well, that's me. I've been so wrapped up in my work that I forgot to pay the bills and... today's Saturday?"

They nodded.

"Well, we need to get to the store, then. I'll go get cleaned up, go online and pay these bills and then we can go shopping. After that we can do whatever you Girls want to do. I'll try to make it up to you somehow."

Bubbles asked "You mean we aren't poor?"

Buttercup asked "We aren't gonna starve?"

Blossom asked "We aren't gonna get put out in the street?"

He chuckled. "No, Girls, we aren't. I can see why you thought that, though, and I feel awful about it."

They looked back and forth at each other. "Uh oh."

"What?"

"Oh, um, nothing!" Blossom said, bright eyed. "We'll go get the shopping list ready!"

Back in their room, they were stunned.

"What do we do now?" asked Buttercup

"We have to tell the truth." said Bubbles

Blossom was upset with herself. "You're right, Bubbles. How could I be so stupid? This is as bad as the golf club fiasco!"

Buttercup tried to help. "Aw, don't be so hard on yourself. How were we supposed to know?"

"Thanks, Buttercup. But we do have to tell him." Blossom sighed. "Let's go."

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Professor Utonium clicked 'send' and seconds later got the 'payment confirmed' message.

"That's the last one. I can't believe I let this go so long. I honestly can't remember the last two weeks. I've been so unfair to them! We need to go on a vacation or something."

He went to his savings and checking accounts. The patent royalty payments were coming in right on schedule. The Girls' college funds were doing nicely. They didn't live extravagantly but until recently, he had made sure his Girls had anything they needed. Except his time. That would change, he swore to himself. He exited the website and shut the computer down. He turned to the rest of the mail.

"Let's see what else we've got here. Junk, junk, junk..." He tossed the offending items into his wastebasket. "...junk, junk...hey, what's this?"

It was a long envelope addressed to himself, of course. The return address bore the logo of the New York Yankees baseball club.

"What the heck could this be?" he thought as he slit the envelope open and unfolded the single sheet.

 

New York Yankees Professional Baseball Club

World Champions 1977, 1978, 1996, 1998, 1999

George M. Steinbrenner, Owner

 

Dear Sir:

My scouting staff has brought it to my attention that you have a daughter that 'throws crooked'. I am told that she is only five years old physically, but it is my understanding that she possesses a maturity level that rivals that of many Major League ballplayers. If you are ever in the New York area, we would be most interested in arranging a tryout for Buttercup with our pitching staff.

The New York Yankees organization has always taken pride in...

 

The letter went on to thank him for his time and give contact information, but he didn't finish it. He tossed it on the desk.

"Can this day get any stranger? Buttercup playing baseball with grown men? Ridiculous!"

He thought they must have confused Buttercup with Blossom when it came to maturity, but admittedly, he knew little about professional athletes.

Just then, Blossom stuck her head through the doorway of his small office. "Professor?"

"Yes, Girls, I'm almost finished. Got the list ready?"

"Professor? We need to tell you something."

"What is it, Blossom? Come in, come in."

All three of them came in and stood by the desk. Blossom was holding her journal. She looked at the floor. "I did something bad."

"Hmmm. This wouldn't be the 'Uh oh, oh, nothing.' episode from a few minutes ago, would it?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, when we thought we were broke, we wanted to do something to help, so I called the number for 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' and got you on the show."

"You did WHAT?!"

"I'm sorry!" Her mouth began to quiver.

He started to laugh hysterically. "Blossom, you pretended you were me and I'm going to be on the show? I don't believe it!"

She opened the journal and pointed to the name of the contact at ABC television and the direct phone number.

"You're not kidding, are you? Blossom, you know I can't go on that show under false pretenses. I need to call them right away."

She was ready to burst into tears.

"Buttercup, Bubbles, you two go get in the car. We'll be right out."

They left.

"Come here, honey."

He picked her up and held her. "Blossom, this whole thing was my fault. I understand why you did it, but do you understand why it was wrong?"

"Uh huh."

He kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl. Go on out with your sisters, I just have to make this call."

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' said the young staff member into her headset while she typed some papers. "Oh, yes, Professor Utonium. I spoke with you a while ago. You sound different."

A brief pause. "Excuse me? Please hold, sir!"

She touched a button on the desk phone. "Mr. Saperstein? You better take this."

In another office at ABC New York, the thin, balding, fortyish producer of the show picked up the phone on his desk. "Saperstein"

He listened for several moments. "Okay, Mac, let me get this straight. Your five-year-old kid called and answered nineteen out of twenty questions correctly because she thought you needed the money and now you call and say you can't do it because it wouldn't be right. Well, either this is the best crank call I've ever gotten or you're the most honest (Or dumbest!, he thought to himself) man in America. But let me tell you something, sir, this is not the World Bank. We don't just hand out money to any sap who says they need it. We're in the entertainment business. And this cockamamie story of yours is just the kind of thing that audiences and advertisers eat up! We're flying you in this Monday. How many you got coming with you?"

* * * * * * *

Professor stared at the receiver in his hand in disbelief. "Well, I DID say we needed a vacation."

He shook his head and was about to stand up to leave when he spotted the half-read letter. He picked it up and quickly scanned it. "Hmmm." He reached for the phone.

* * * * * * *

Saperstein stared at the receiver in his hand in disbelief. "Man, I need a vacation!"

He picked up the phone and dialed, and waited... "Well, I don't care if he's golfing with the President! Get him on the phone, now!" he shouted into the receiver.

He waited a few more seconds, and his angry look was replaced by an excited one. "Reege, you ain't gonna believe this..."

* * * * * * *

George Steinbrenner stared at the receiver in his hand in disbelief. "He's got another 5 year old and she's a better ballplayer? Why didn't they tell me about her?"

He gazed out the window of the owner's box in the upper level of Yankee Stadium watching the grounds crew preparing for that afternoon's game. He turned back to the phone. "Well, Professor, by all means, bring Bubbles along, too. We'd be delighted. Now, I'm leaving with the team tomorrow for our West Coast trip, but my chief scout will be on hand. If you can be here at the Stadium at ten Tuesday morning? What's that?"

He listened briefly and laughed. "Certainly, Professor, I think I can arrange that for you. I know a few of those folks over there. Thanks for calling, Professor, and good luck on the show. Goodbye!"

* * * * * * *

Ms. Keane had been pulling weeds in her garden. She stared at the cell phone in her hand in disbelief. "He's taking them out of school to be on 'Millionaire'? Oh, I'd give anything in the world to be there with them!"

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

The Girls were on the front lawn, killing time.

"What's taking him so long?" Buttercup complained, scowling while she twirled her end of the rope. Bubbles was at the other end and Blossom was hopping up and down as the rope passed beneath her feet and over her head.

Bubbles pointed. "Hey, here he comes now!"

They stopped their rope jumping as he came out, beaming from ear to ear.

"Girls, we're going shopping!"

"Duh!" Bubbles replied.

He laughed. "No, I mean, after we come home from Malph's, we're going shopping. Girls, we're off for the Big Apple!"

They were shocked. Blossom spoke first. "But I thought..."

"Yes, Blossom. They want me anyway. But that's not all."

"Huh?" they all reacted.

"Do you remember seeing a letter from the New York Yankees?"

Buttercup said, "Yeah, what was that about? You owe them money, too?"

"No, Buttercup," he chuckled. "They want YOU to come down and try out for the team. You too, Bubbles."

They looked at each other with enormous eyes, mouths open.

"We're goin' ta' Yankee Stadium? Whoa!" Buttercup stood there, glassy-eyed.

"And Mr. Steinbrenner was kind enough to get us tickets to Emeril's cooking show."

"YIPPEEEE!! Oh boy oh boy oh boy!" Bubbles flew into the air and began to buzz around the yard, she was so excited.

Blossom looked a little concerned. "Professor, what about me? Can we go to a Broadway show or the art museum or something?"

"Uh, with the show and everything, we really won't have time."

He was dancing around the question because he was about to break her little heart. "Blossom, I'm sorry. You can't go."

This snapped the other two out of their daydreams and they rushed to her, with questioning looks for the Professor. Blossom hung her head in shame once more.

"Guess this is my punishment, huh?"

"No, Blossom. Townsville will need someone to protect it."

She looked up quickly, surprised. "I forgot! One of has to stay. And I got you into this."

He knelt in front of her and put a hand on one shoulder. "It's all right, Blossom. Besides, I'm going to need a really, really, really smart phone-a-friend."

At that, her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She hugged him and her sisters joined in.

"Yeah, Blossom, you rock!"

* * * * * * *

From his lair in the Observatory at the top of Townsville Volcano Mountain, Mojo Jojo came up with some of his best schemes. Spying on the citizenry with his high-powered telescope and its ultra-super listening device gave him information that was very useful in planning his crimes.

Mojo backed away from the telescope, evil glee spreading on his simian face. "Yeeeesss! This is perrrfect!" he said, rubbing his hands together. "Powerpuff Girl Blossom is left to fend for herself while Utonium and those other two accursed brats go to New York. It will be so much easier to destroy them one at a time because they are always together and they cannot be destroyed one at a time when they are in such a state. Until now, muahahahaha! Imagine the look on the face of that blowhard when I, Mojo Jojo, answer the telephone instead of Powerpuff Girl Blossom. 'I, Moooojo Jojo, will rule the world! That is my final answer!' But I must remember to be a good little monkey and not commit any crimes which would cause them to come home early because committing crimes would cause them to come home and then I will not be able to destroy them one at a time. It will mean that I will have to watch that ridiculous program in the company of a Powerpuff Girl. I shudder at the thought, but I am up to the task. But, wait! I do not know how to make popcorn! CUUURSES!"

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

It was 8:30 A.M. Monday morning and the terminal of Townsville International was packed with busy travelers. The Utonium family stood at the departure gate for their flight to New York. Their baggage was already gone except for a small carry-on that Professor was holding and the backpacks that both Buttercup and Bubbles were wearing. It was too noisy to hear their goodbyes. Except someone WAS listening...

Unnoticed at a bank of payphones fifty yards away, Mojo surreptitiously pointed a miniature listening device at the Girls. It was preset to the frequency of Blossom's voice, which he, of course, had tape recordings of. It homed in on the proper target and would only pick up conversation in a very tight circle. Any other sounds would merely be background noise, at tolerable levels. He listened through a pair of thin headphones, which were poorly insulated but his ears were accustomed to the other sounds around him and he tuned them out.

Professor was speaking. "Now Blossom, you absolutely MUST be available if they call from the show."

"Don't worry, Professor! What time do you think it might..."

"THE WHITE COURTESY PHONES ARE FOR THE USE OF DEPLANING PASSENGERS ONLY!"

"CURSES!" Mojo looked up. He'd picked a phone directly beneath a speaker.

"...and make sure you're there Thursday to answer the phone." Professor finished.

"Ah, Thursday!" Mojo was satisfied. He didn't wait to watch the touching farewell and slipped into the crowd.

* * * * * * *

They were leaving the arrival gate at Kennedy when Buttercup saw it.

"Look, Professor! That's us!"

She pointed toward a man in a dark uniform, wearing sunglasses. He was holding up a sign that read 'UTONIUM'.

"We get to ride in a limo? Cool!" Bubbles exclaimed.

"Let's go, Girls!"

Ten minutes later they were on their way to the hotel. It was just before 6 P.M. New York time. Back home, the Girls would just be getting out of school.

"Welcome ta' New York, folks! My name's Vinny an' me an' 'dis here limo is at your disposal for 'da length of your stay. Courtesy of Mr. Steinbrenner. No guests of his are stayin' at no fleabag 'dem cheapskates at ABC put youse up in. I 'tink you're gonna like 'dis one."

Professor put his arms behind his head and leaned back, putting his feet up on the seat opposite. Each of the Girls had a whole huge seat to stretch out on.

"Well, we certainly appreciate your hospitality, Vinny, and Mr. Steinbrenner's." Professor said.

"Yeah, nice hospital." added Bubbles. "Professor? I thought we were goin' to a hotel."

Buttercup's standard reply would have been an exasperated "Oh, brother",but she hadn't said a word the entire ride from the airport. She just kept staring at the back of Vinny's head, hoping for him to turn around. He sounded just like Ace but was ten times better looking.

Vinny didn't know the purpose of the Girls' visit to Yankee Stadium and would be stunned if he did. He spoke again. "Now youse folks get a good night's rest 'cause youse got a big day ahead of ya'. I'm pickin' ya' up at nine, your kids tour of da' ballpark's at ten, I'm 'sposed ta' have youse at ABC at one. 'Dey got ya' until after dinnertime. 'Den, I pick ya' up at whatever place 'dey take youse to eat, and take ya' to Emeril's show. I met him once, he's pretty cool."

"I can't wait!" Bubbles fidgeted on her seat.

Buttercup said nothing, just continued to stare at Vinny. He noticed and gave her a quick wink and a smile. If it had been anyone else, she would be saying "Driver, are we there yet?" right about now, but this ride could last forever, for all she cared.

"Well, folks, here we is!"

"Fooey!"

Minutes later, baggage all accounted for and in the custody of the hotel porter, Professor and the Girls stood on the sidewalk as Vinny climbed back into the limo and waved. He gave Buttercup another wink.

"See ya', Toots!" he called out to her, then hopped in and drove off.

Professor and Bubbles started to walk toward the hotel's front entrance, but Buttercup floated off the sidewalk, headed for Cloud Nine, watching Vinny drive away.

Bubbles stopped and floated back over to her sister. "Aw, gee, Buttercup! Not again!"

Vinny stopped for a light at the corner and thought, "Cute kids, but why do I 'tink I seen 'em before?"

He started to head through the intersection as the light changed. He checked his mirrors and slammed on the brakes. This was New York, he should have been met with angry cursing and honking horns as he jumped out of the limo, but everyone else was doing the same thing; staring at the two small children floating in thin air. Vinny jumped back in and gunned the motor, squealing the tires as the limo sped away. One hand went for the cell phone.

As he dialed his buddy at the New York Times (who always repaid the favor with tickets to some of the choicest events in the city; Vinny had lots of friends), he spoke to the empty car. "Geez, I'm drivin' 'da Powerpuff Goils around and I don't even know it! Two of 'em, anyway. Where's 'dat Blossom at?"

* * * * * * *

Buttercup laid back on the huge bed she and Bubbles would share. She'd just finished off her three corn dogs and two root beers from room service. "Man, this is the life!"

Bubbles had barely touched her salad and she was sitting solemnly on the side of the bed. "Poor Blossom, I wonder what she's doin'?"

Professor was running around between their two suites, which were connected by a door; busily unpacking and putting things away. "Don't worry about your sister, Bubbles, she'll be just fine."

* * * * * * *

Blossom closed the front door and floated into the living room with the fresh, hot pizza. "It sure was nice of Mr. Giuseppe to send this over after I stopped the Gangreen Gang from trashing his pizzeria while I was on my way home from putting those bank robbers in jail. My very own pizza with extra anchovies, and I can watch 'Puppet Pals' in peace! Man, this is the life! I wonder what Professor and the Girls are doing right now?"

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Professor hung up the phone in his room and walked over to the Girls'. "We're going to have a visitor, Girls. The show's producer is on his way up. When I call for you, come on over, but not before, okay?"

"Okay, Professor."

"And after that, you're going to bed. It's almost ten."

"But we're on vacation!" Buttercup protested.

"No buts. It's still way past your bedtime."

He walked back to his room and was shortly met with a knock on the door. "Come in."

A man hurried in and in rapid succession closed the door, announced himself as Steve Saperstein and shook Professor's hand. He did not look pleased. "Professor, you've got some explaining to do and this better be good!"

"What? I don't get it."

"Look, you're on the show because you're supposedly destitute and I find you here, living like a king. I just spent the last two hours calling every hotel in Manhattan looking for you. You sure threw us a curveball."

"Funny you should say that. It's my daughter's curveball."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, I should have called you back. I'm forgetful like that. Mr. Steinbrenner is paying all our expenses while we're here in the city. My daughter is trying out with the Yankees tomorrow morning. Actually, two of my Girls are."

"You're kidding, right?"

Professor handed him the letter. Saperstein read it in shocked silence and handed it back. " Which one of 'em's the genius who called?"

"Oh, that was Blossom. She's not here. She's back home in Townsville so she can be my phone-a-friend."

"Townsville? Blossom?" Saperstein suddenly looked at Professor as if he had grown a second head. "Utonium? Oh...my....God..."

He sat down on the bed. Looking at Professor, he thumbed toward the other suite.

Nodding yes, Professor called them. "Okay, Girls."

They floated through the doorway, Buttercup first, who cast a distrustful eye on the stranger. Before Professor could make the introductions, Bubbles waved. "Hi, I'm Bubbles!"

Saperstein was the professional, quickly over his shock. He stood. "Steve Saperstein, ABC Television. Believe me, I know who you girls are!"

"Mr. Saperstein, our taping session starts at two, correct?", Professor asked. "Our driver said you wanted us there at one."

"Professor, there isn't gonna be any taping session."

"There isn't?" came three anxious-sounding replies.

"Nope. We're taking this baby live tomorrow night. We're gonna make television history!" The producer tore out of the room and down the hall, calling behind him, "See you at one!"

By the time he reached the elevators his Emmy acceptance speech was half-written in his head. His buddies at the Times and New York Post would help him get, too.

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

With no one to enforce a bedtime on her, Blossom stayed up a little later than normal. But by nine, realizing that it was midnight in New York and her sisters were probably sound asleep for hours, she decided to turn in. She was just about to shut the TV off when a 'Breaking News'graphic flashed on the screen.

The talking head began to speak. "This is Stanley Whitfield. A copyrighted story in tomorrow's New York Times is reporting that Professor Utonium's appearance on 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' will be carried as a live studio broadcast tomorrow evening instead of the taped version which was to be shown this Thursday. The story is also reporting that our very own Powerpuff Girls Buttercup and Bubbles will be trying out with the New York Yankees baseball club sometime during their stay. We will have more on this breaking news as it becomes available. Now, back to our regular programming..."

Blossom clicked the set off. "Good, now I don't have to wait around all day tomorrow. Maybe Professor and the Girls'll come Wednesday instead of Thursday, too. Let's see, eight tomorrow night is five o'clock our time..."

She headed for bed, too tired to be sad she was all alone.

At around the same moment, Mojo Jojo clicked off the TV set in his lair.

"Lucky for me I watched this program. I did not know that stupid show was taped and I would have shown up at the Powerpuff Girls home Thursday only to be beaten senseless by them because they would be there because they would not be at the show which was taped with them present which I did not know. I must remember the three hour time difference as well or I will not be answering the phone call that will not come because I have shown up at a time when the phone will not be ringing. But what to do about the popcorn...perhaps I will bring a pizza instead! And my laser cannon, of course. Muahahahaha!"

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

She had just finished flinging the monster carcass into deep space when the call came on the hotline.

"Buttercup, I need you in here, right now!"

"You got it, Skipper!" She grabbed her glove and zipped over the bullpen wall, straight for the mound. No golf cart for her. When she reached it, there they all stood. The poor unfortunate she was replacing was already gone, but the catcher Posada, and the rest of her infield, Brosius, Knoblauch, Martinez, and Jeter were all waiting for her. Whoa. Derek Jeter. She gazed up into the shortstop's handsome young face and wondered, "Vinny? Vinny who?"

Joe Torre looked at her and said, "Here's the deal, kid. Bases loaded, nobody out, top o' the ninth and we're only up a run. All you gotta do is fan Sosa, Griffey and McGwire and we win."

"Gimme the rock."

Torre handed her the ball and headed back to the dugout, and her teammates started for their positions, calling out encouragement.

"Three cream puffs, kid!" shouted Brosius, from third.

"Throw at their heads!" yelled her catcher, Posada, loud enough for the other team's dugout to hear.

"Shut 'em down and you and me'll go grab a root beer." called Jeter.

She rubbed the ball and spit on the mound, glaring at the first batter to step in, Sammy Sosa, who gave her a huge grin. A minute later, he was still grinning as the umpire and his own manager were trying to convince him he'd watched three strikes go by.

"Huh?" he asked. "When did she throw the first one? I didn't see nothin'!"

Ken Griffey Jr. stepped up to the opposite side of the plate. His facial expression was anything but friendly, but the result was the same. Buttercup punched him out on three pitches, the third turning Junior's bat into a thousand toothpicks.

Posada called for time and walked out to the mound. "That's enough fastballs, kid; you're killin' my hand!"

"Fastballs? Uh, sorry, I'm not too good at readin' signs. I thought you were callin' for my off-speed stuff."

The catcher trotted back behind the plate, shaking both his head and hand. Suddenly, George Steinbrenner stuck his head out the window of the owner's box and shouted into a megaphone.

"Quit fooling around! I pay you to throw crooked!"

Buttercup swallowed hard. Here he was, Mark McGwire, the most feared slugger in the game; with forearms the size of hams, even at over sixty feet away. She kicked her left leg high and uncorked one straight at Big Mac's head. Ten feet from the plate, the ball defied the laws of physics and made a ninety degree turn, then another, and smacked into Posada's mitt.

"Stee-rike one!"

"Let's see you do that again!" challenged McGwire.

She let go a pitch that was so wide left the catcher had to go after it. The ball suddenly dove back toward the plate. McGwire was ready but just missed.

"Strike two!"

"One more!" Big Mac yelled, wiggling the huge club at her.

She kicked and delivered and the ball made two loud popping sounds, one as it smacked into Posada's glove, the other as it broke the sound barrier. McGwire snapped his bat in two in disgust as the umpire called him out. Posada ran straight for the icepack, but the rest of her teammates surrounded her, chanting her name, while the full house at Yankee Stadium joined in.

"BUTTERCUP! BUTTERCUP! BUTTERCUP!..."

"Buttercup! Buttercup, wake up!" Professor was shaking her.

"Huh? Wha? Oh, hi, Professor." She looked around the strange room to get her bearings. "Where's Bubbles?"

"In the other room, asleep. She came in crying in the middle of the night."

"Figures, big baby!" she thought to herself. Out loud, she asked, "She okay?"

"She was having a dream about being on Emeril's show and she woke up when she remembered we can't go now on account of 'Millionaire' going live tonight."

"Oh, yeah, we can't, can we?"

Poor Bubbles. Now she felt guilty, seeing as how her tryout was still on. Bubbles would get her chance, too; but that wasn't what she was looking forward to. Oh, well, Professor would find something in this huge city that Bubbles would like. Poor Blossom.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

The tension was so thick it was hard to breathe. Even Regis was sweating, everyone but Professor, who was cool as a cucumber. The camera panned on the excited audience and stopped on Bubbles and Buttercup, who held each other to keep from floating to the rafters of the studio.

"Professor, here we are at the Million Dollar Question, for the first time ever on live television and a worldwide audience of one billion people! Look at him, folks, the man's got ice water in his veins! How do you do it?"

"Oh, I don't deserve the credit! It's just that I know my Blossom is there if I need her."

Everyone in the audience shouted, "We love you, Blossom!"

"Well, Professor, should you give the wrong answer, you'll lose 468 thousand dollars. But, answer it correctly and you win One Million Dollars! Are you ready?"

The dramatic music finished and Regis began. "The 1812 Overture was composed by, A) Mussorgsky B) Tchaikovsky C) Stravinsky D) Beethoven"

"Well, Beethoven would have needed a time machine, so I guess I'm gonna have to go 'sky'-ing."

"Oh, hahaha, all that pressure and he's still cracking jokes." Philbin raised an eyebrow. "But I need an answer, Professor."

"I think I'll use my phone-a friend now."

"All righty, our friends at AT&T will get Blossom on the line in a minute..."

Blossom grabbed the phone. "Hello, Regis! Hello, Professor! Hello, World! Before I give the correct answer, I'd just like to say that I look forward to the day when I will be your leader and we will all live in peace, love and harmony!"

"Hooray for Blossom!" shouted the audience and everyone else watching around the globe.

"Professor, the correct response is, B) Tchaikovsky. That's your final answer."

Regis looked at the little answer card. "For One Million Dollars...Professor, Blossom is absolutely...WRONG!!!" His beet-red face filled the TV screen, looking directly at her. "You lose, Miss Smarty Pants!"

Suddenly, Buttercup and Bubbles crashed through the roof and into the living room, holding Regis, Professor and the rest of the billion watchers, all who were pointing at her, shouting, "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

They were backing her into the wall! There was no place to hide! She screamed in terror...

"AGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"

She bolted upright, disoriented and out of breath, staring into the darkness. A nightmare! And it had started out so nice, too...

"Wait a minute! Tchaikovsky WAS the right answer! Stupid anchovies!" Blossom buried her head under the pillow, praying for dreamless sleep.

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Buttercup was just about to ask Professor about finding something else for Bubbles to do when her sister floated sleepily through the doorway connecting the two rooms. She had some sort of contraption on her head that looked like a bicycle helmet with small red lights on top. In one hand she had a CD player with a cable running to the helmet.

Buttercup jumped off the bed. "What the heck is that thing?"

Professor whirled around, hurried over and gingerly lifted it off of Bubbles' head. "Bubbles, you must be very careful with that! It's not a toy." Turning to Buttercup, he said, "It's the Virtual Brain I've been working on. I downloaded every bit of trivia I could find and compressed it onto CDs."

"I get it. You listen to 'em in your sleep, right?"

He laughed. "No, no, no. The information is digitized and modulated to the exact frequency of my brainwaves, and then transmitted directly to the synapses of my cerebrum."

"Wow!," they both marveled, having no idea what he'd just said. "So you know everything?"

"Try me!"

"Okay," said Bubbles, "what's two plus two?"

"Uh, six?"

"WHAT?!"

"Heh heh. Just kidding. Let's go get some breakfast."

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

It was only 5 A.M. in Anaheim but George Steinbrenner was still running on New York time. The staff at this hotel did things right the first time, which was why the Yankees stayed here. His breakfast was done to perfection and the West Coast editions of the Times and the New York Post were turned face down. He hated bad news first thing in the morning. His habit was to digest what the idiot sportswriters had to say about him before turning to the world at large. He slid the sports section of the Times out, flattened it on the table, and nearly spilled his coffee.

POWERPUFF GIRLS IN YANKEES TRYOUT TODAY

Reports from two reliable sources confirm that two thirds of the world-famous trio of crime-fighting kindergarteners, Buttercup and Bubbles, will be at Yankee Stadium sometime today for a professional tryout with the team at the personal invitation of Yankees owner George M. Steinbrenner. Calls to team officials went unreturned. Sources also confirm that Powerpuff Girls' creator Professor Utonium is scheduled to be a contestant on the unprecedented live broadcast of 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' tonight. (story Page One)

Steinbrenner grabbed the rest of the Times and stared at the bold type on the front page.

'MILLIONAIRE' LIVE TONIGHT

Powerpuff Girls Creator to Appear as Contestant

World Record TV Audience Expected [Special to The New York Times]

Officials of the wildly popular game show 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' and ABC Television here in New York have confirmed that the show will be televised live this evening for the first time in history. Today's normal afternoon taping session was cancelled when it was learned that Professor Utonium, creator of the Powerpuff Girls, the world famous superheroes from Townsville and stars of their own cartoon show, was expected to be a contestant on the show. Reports that Utonium was traveling with only two of the Girls, Buttercup and Bubbles, and that Blossom had remained at home as a 'lifeline' contestant, were also confirmed. Upwards of one billion people are expected to tune in worldwide.

The Times' articles were fairly bland but Steinbrenner was still stunned. He dreaded the Post coverage but picked it up anyway. Above a large, grainy black and white photo of a fearful looking Blossom, downloaded no doubt from some website, was the huge headline, followed by the story. It took up the entire front page of the tabloid.

HOME ALONE!

While her Powerpuff siblings trip the lights fantastic, this frightened five-year-old waits by the phone for the call that could make her absent-minded Professor rich. The folks at ABC are no doubt very pleased with themselves as the hit show goes live tonight at 8. (More Page 3 and Sports)

Steinbrenner turned to Sports. These guys killed him daily. It was worse than he feared. Another grainy photo, this one of Buttercup with her right arm cocked behind her, ready to throw something.

BUTTERBALL!

An open letter to Yankees owner George Steinbrenner:

Dear George: If you need someone that 'throws crooked', you've got him. His name is Chuck Knoblauch. Superpowers or no, this cute l'il lass and her pig-tailed sis' belong in a 'League of Their Own'; namely, the playground back wherever they're from, not in a big league ballpark! What next? Take down the statues of Ruth, Gehrig, DiMaggio and Mantle, throw 'em in a pot and toss in a little Chemical X? Please, George, no more Bubble-headed ideas! Please!

Steinbrenner dropped the paper. "Powerpuff Girls! My God! I had no idea. Remind me to fire that scout! And what's this about not returning calls? I always talk to the press!"

He slapped his forehead in realization. "Except when I tell the hotel to hold all my calls!" He dialed the room of his personal assistant. "How bad is it?"

"Well, sir," came the reply, "I wasn't going to confirm or deny anything until I spoke with you, but the general reaction seems to be that everyone loves it, besides those idiots at the Post. Plus that 'Millionaire' thing. They're calling from Tokyo, London, you name it. What should I tell 'em?"

"Tell 'em it's all true. Get New York on the phone. Sell tickets, five bucks apiece, with everything going to charity. Get moving, we've got less than two hours!"

As soon as he hung up, the phone rang. He picked it up and immediately pulled away from the shouting from the other end.

"George, what do you think you're doing, tampering with my employees?"

"Good morning to you, too, Ted. That's right, you own Cartoon Network, don't you? Well, they're not making cartoons, just playing a little ball. Have a nice day."

He hung up. At the other end, an irate Ted Turner just stared at the dead phone in his hand. "He hasn't heard the last of this!"

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

They were finally ready to go; the Girls had their backpacks on and Professor had a leather satchel with the Virtual Brain and a few other essentials inside. They were walking through the hotel lobby headed for the street when Buttercup called out, pointing toward the newsstand, which was next to the gift shop.

"Professor, look!"

"Not now, Buttercup, we don't have time for souvenirs!"

"Professor!" Bubbles screamed, horrified.

He stopped and turned. "Whoa!"

They were used to being covered in the Townsville Tribune, but this was very different. Stacks of the New York Post with that scared Blossom looking out at the world was just too much. Professor ran over, grabbed two each of the Times and Post and a Chinese paper for Blossom, threw the clerk a twenty and collected the Girls. They hurried out onto the sidewalk and into the feeding frenzy.

"Look, there they are!"

The paparazzi descended upon them like vultures, and were totally amazed when their prey didn't turn and run like all the rest. Bubbles and Buttercup just stood, glaring, arms crossed.

Professor said "Now, Girls, smile for the nice people." He looked up at the press and told them, "You have two minutes to take all the pictures you want. After that, your cameras will no longer function. Is that clear?"

Buttercup smiled a wicked little smile. "They look awful expensive."

"Two minutes!" the press protested.

Professor looked at his watch. "One fifty two...one fifty one..."

"Okay, okay!"

They started snapping and the Girls obliged, smiling and posing, hamming it up. When their time was up, Professor held up his hands and stepped in. One photographer tried to sneak under his arms for a shot at Bubbles.

"You are invading my personal space." she informed the man, snatching his camera away.

They all scrambled back, except for the one whose camera Bubbles was holding. She held it out to him, smiled sweetly and dropped it, where it cracked into several pieces on the sidewalk.

Buttercup growled, "Now BEAT IT!"

They slunk as a group, red faced, down the sidewalk. The street, which was full of everyday New Yorkers, erupted in a huge cheer and applause, and then returned to their everyday activities.

Buttercup spotted an outdoor bank clock several blocks down. "Aw, we only got ten minutes until the limo gets here. We don't have time to eat."

"Buttercup, look around you. You can find almost anything you want on the streets of New York." Professor told her.

There were a goodly number of vendors selling a variety of foods. They'd been too busy to notice. As the Girls' eyes hungrily swept the area, Bubbles spotted something across the street. "Buttercup, someone's robbing that guy!"

Two individuals were running away from a cart that sold fresh fruits and pastries; one of them had something in his hand that looked like a pouch.

"Help! My money!" screamed the elderly vendor.

The Girls flew off after the crooks while Professor went to tell the man he'd have his cash back in no time. The two hoods saw Buttercup gaining on them and decided to split up. One quickly made a right turn into an alley, where the last thing he saw was two garbage can lids coming at either side of his face, like cymbals. Bubbles stuffed him into one of the cans and slammed the cover on tight. She took off into the sky with the other can, just in time to see her sister karate kick the other punk through the air, where he sailed into a canvas awning overhanging a window of the restaurant at their hotel. He trampolined off, the vendor's bag flying out of his hand. Buttercup picked it out of the air at the same time Bubbles made a basket catch of the crook and put the lid on the caper. Two beat cops ran over to collar the criminals and held their noses from the stench.

"Thanks, Girls!" they waved.

The Girls zipped straight down to the vendor. As Buttercup handed him his bag, another loud cheer went up in the street.

The vendor squealed with delight. "Oh, how can I ever thank you? Have you eaten yet today?"

Buttercup looked at Professor. "Well, no, but fighting crime is our job. We aren't 'sposed to get stuff for it."

"Oh, nonsense! Please, have something, I insist!"

Professor nodded. "I think it will be all right, Girls."

Buttercup said, "Great! Got any corn dogs?"

"No, sorry, dear. How about a nice cherry blintz?"

"I could eat a Goodyear blimp right about now!"

He laughed and handed her one of the pastries wrapped in a paper towel. It was still warm and she bit off a piece.

Bubbles said, "That don't look like no blimp! Looks good, though."

Buttercup started waving her breakfast through the air, making flying sounds. Suddenly, the Goodyear Blintz broke in two, cherry passengers spilling into the monster's mouth, and a few onto its green dress.

"Yum"

Bubbles groaned, "Oh, the humanity! Can I just have an apple?"

The old man chuckled, handing her the biggest, shiniest one he had. "What can I get for you, sir?"

"Coffee will be fine. Thank you." Looking at Buttercup, Professor added, "And some napkins."

A big white stretch limousine glided up to the curb in front of the hotel, and Buttercup recognized the plates. "Hey, there's our ride!"

They exchanged thanks with the vendor, waved goodbye and headed across the street, careful not to jaywalk.

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

The car cruised through Manhattan, on its way to the Bronx. Vinny wasn't driving today, he was waiting in line with thousands of others, hoping to score a ticket to 'Millionaire'. Buttercup didn't notice and didn't care; she was furious. She pointed to the Post photo of herself.

"Whoever wrote this better not ever show their face around our 'playground'!"

She said the last word sarcastically as she angrily folded up the paper and gave it to Professor, who hadn't seen it yet. He was just finishing the Times piece. He'd seen the cover picture of Blossom, but now his face darkened as he read the rest of the article inside. They were making him look like an idiot or worse for leaving Blossom home.

"Who d'ya think coulda done it, Professor?" Buttercup asked.

"I know who did this." he said, setting the paper aside. Saperstein! He hadn't shown Steinbrenner's letter to anyone else. He was about to say something more when he saw tears rolling down Bubbles' face.

"I'm sorry about missing Emeril's show, honey. We'll find something else for you to do."

Bubbles looked up. "Huh? Oh, I wasn't thinkin' 'bout that. Professor, why did Blossom hafta stay home?"

"Yeah, she coulda done the lifeline thing in our room at the hotel." Buttercup said. " Professor, what did Townsville do before we were around? It ain't fair we can't ever go anyplace!"

"Well, you did dedicate your lives to fighting crime and the forces of evil."

"Aw, man!" Buttercup crossed her arms and frowned deeply. "We shoulda stuck 'When we feel like it.' on the end of that."

Professor looked at both of them. "Too late for that. But Townsville HAS gotten a little spoiled." He rubbed his chin in thought. "Girls, you've given me an idea."

* * * * * * *

The Girls looked precious in their miniature Yankee pinstripe home whites. They both had their own gloves and shoes, and stood waiting in the locker room, waiting to be taken out onto the field. Though the team was on the road, on hand were the Yankees chief scout, two minor league scouts, one who used to be a catcher; and a relief pitcher who was just coming off the disabled list and was cleared to throw. Also on hand and already out on the field were several Yankee Stadium grounds crew, all who had their own gloves. They would often take swings in the batting cage at offerings from the pitching machine and chase fly balls around the outfield, whenever they weren't keeping the field in tip-top shape. None of them, however, had done those things before forty-plus thousand screaming fools, like they were doing just then.

The Girls could hear them. Bubbles looked just a little frightened but Buttercup was annoyed.

"Why are all those people out there? I don't like everybody watchin' me. Besides, somebody could get hurt."

The head scout just laughed. "Well, kid, if you wanna be a ballplayer, you'd better get used to it. And nobody's gonna get hurt."

"Except maybe you." he thought to himself, shaking his head. "What the heck was George thinking about?"

Superpowers meant nothing to him. Hitting a round ball with a round stick was one of the hardest things in the world to do when the ball was traveling up to 100 miles per hour. Even the great Michael Jordan couldn't do it.

"Okay, you ready?"

They nodded and he led them out of the locker room, down the tunnel toward the dugout and the noise. Professor was on the bench in the dugout, holding his invention. "Don't worry about all the people. I'll be right here. You Girls just go out and have fun."

As they were led onto the field, a combination of cheering and insults, some not at all nice and definitely not suitable for young ears, surrounded them. Typical New York crowd, but to the Girls it was all just noise.

The head scout said "Okay, we'll start with some basic drills. Let's see how fast you can get to first."

"You," he said to Buttercup, "stand at the plate and when the catcher throws a grounder to the infield, go."

Buttercup watched the catcher like a hawk and when she saw the ball leave his hand, she went. All anyone could see was a white streak and she was standing on first before the ball hit the ground. Proudly, she flew back to home.

The scout shook his head and said, "Uh, very good, but you have to play by the rules. You can't fly!"

"Okay" Bubbles said, moving to the plate. The catcher threw another ball and she was gone, only she didn't stop at first. She crossed home plate before the ball reached the pitcher's mound. Half the crowd never saw her streak, they were too busy coughing on the huge dust cloud; which revealed the torn up basepaths when it lifted.

"The Boss ain't gonna like this..." one of the groundskeepers muttered, "...but I can use the overtime."

Attempts at having the Girls field grounders and shag fly balls in the outfield were a huge success, only after large rips in the lush green turf convinced the scout he should let them hover a few inches off the ground. Bubbles was deadly, throwing perfect strikes at the proper speed to the man covering first. Buttercup was a little wild, and soon the stands behind first were empty.

"All right. That went MUCH better. Let's see you throw." said the scout. To Buttercup he added, "You're supposed to have a pretty good curve. Let's see it."

She took a box of baseballs out to the mound as the catcher went with her.

"We'll keep it simple, kid.," he said, holding out fingers of one hand. "One, fastball, two, slider, three, change-up, four, curve. A good pitcher has calluses in the right spots. Lemme see your hands."

She held them out.

"YIKES! Uh, never mind."

Minutes later, with the catcher's hand in an ice bucket, the padded walls behind home plate full of holes with baseballs buried in them, and the scout's radar gun smoking and no longer operable, with its final readout showing 217 mph; Buttercup sat glumly on the bench next to Professor. The scout was trying to cheer her up.

"You do have a heckuva curveball, kid. If you can ever figure out where it's going..."

"Aw, I stink! Bubbles is way better than me."

Bubbles at that moment was wowing the crowd. A few of the braver fans had gone back to their seats behind the plate. She put the ball right where the catcher asked for it, mixing her pitches well. But she couldn't throw a curve, yet. The head scout still thought Steinbrenner was nuts, but from what he'd seen, Bubbles could pitch for them with a little seasoning in the minors.

He told Buttercup, 'Well, you do have potential. Let's see if you can hit."

* * * * * * *

Steinbrenner, Joe Torre and the Yanks' pitching coach were in a hotel conference room watching the live satellite feed.

"Well, boys, whatta you think?"

Torre spoke up. "George, they're five year old girls, for cryin' out loud! Are you crazy?"

"Well, you know me, Joe, always looking for that edge. Seriously, I had no idea they were the Powerpuff Girls. The Rules Committee would never allow it. I'm sure Ted Turner's complaining to them as we speak. Of course they'll never play professional ball, but the publicity..."

"Uh, George?," the pitching coach said. "Look!"

* * * * * * *

Buttercup ripped Bubbles' first pitch over the wall in left center and into Monument Park, knocking over one of the statues.

"Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?" she sang, then caught everyone frowning at her. "Ooops!"

Bubbles wasn't too happy, either. She really bore down on the next pitch, but Buttercup met that one squarely, too, and the ball exploded like one of those trick golf balls.

Buttercup grinned. "Uh, was that fair or foul?"

The head scout said, "Okay, that's enough. Bubbles, come on in."

The Girls both protested, but the scout held up his hand. "No, I want to see if you can hit some REAL pitching."

After a few warm-up tosses, the Yankees reliever was ready.

"Okay, kid, let's see you hit THIS!"

He sailed a slider that Buttercup missed by a foot, corkscrewing herself into the dirt. Angrily, she readied herself for the next one, an off-speed pitch that she swung at before it was halfway to the plate.

"Thought so." muttered the scout.

Buttercup's face was on fire with embarrassment. Her eyes narrowed. Bubbles saw that look she knew so well and said, "Uh, oh..."

The pitcher delivered a screaming fastball that started low and rose as it reached the plate. Buttercup got all of it. The ball rocketed off the bat and sheered off the supports of the furthest light tower down the left field line, toppling it forward into the next in line. A domino-like chain reaction followed, with light towers falling, ripping up large chunks of concrete, smashing seats, crushing luxury boxes. Terrified people ran screaming in all directions, escaping through the exits into the streets. Many ran onto the field, which was actually the safest place to be. Bubbles flew to the dugout, picked up Professor and took off after Buttercup to see if anyone needed help.

* * * * * * *

The three men stared at the TV screen in silence, their mouths hanging open.

Steinbrenner managed to stammer, "I don't believe it. They've destroyed my ballpark!"

He sprang into action, grabbing the phone. "Get me the Mayor! Now! Hello? Rudy? You know how you keep telling me I don't need a new Stadium? Turn on Channel Five!"

He hung up the phone, clasped his hands together and looked up at the ceiling, eyes closed.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Ms. Keane flipped on the light switch in her classroom at Pokey Oaks Kindergarten and went to her desk, prepared to begin another day. She sat down and sipped her coffee, savoring its flavor and the few minutes of quiet before the children arrived. But she still felt out of sorts. She missed the Girls, much more than she'd expected. Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the kids, a bit ahead of schedule. Mildly annoyed, she looked toward the door and froze.

"Blossom! What are you doing here?"

"'Morning, Ms. Keane," Blossom said quietly. "I don't have to wait around for the phone anymore, so I thought I'd come to school today."

"Oh, yes, that's right. But you are excused from school. If you'd like to go to the library and read...or you may stay...if you feel like answering questions all day."

"Uh, not really. Maybe I should go study some, huh?"

"Poor thing looks so down." Ms. Keane thought.

Blossom started out, then stopped. "Ms. Keane, would you come over and watch the show with me?"

Her teacher blinked. "Why, Blossom, I'd like that very much!"

Blossom's spirits did a one-eighty. "Thanks, Ms. Keane!" and she whooshed out of the room.

Ms. Keane was smiling as she sipped the rest of her coffee.

* * * * * * *

Mojo Jojo was unaware of this new development. He was so confident that he saw no need for further spying. In fact, he felt the situation no longer required anything so powerful as a laser cannon. He could surely handle ONE Powerpuff unassisted by sophisticated weaponry. The only thing he would bring would be his umbrella; rain was expected. Since coming home from the airport, he had spent most of his time on the 'Net reading trivia, though he couldn't understand what made him want to waste time doing such a thing. The real reason, if his ego had allowed the rest of his brain to see it, was that he was afraid of being shown up by a mere child. After all, she was the one who belonged in the hot seat, not her father.

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

Luckily, no one was hurt in the Yankee Stadium disaster, though there was still mass confusion in the surrounding streets. The Girls, Professor and the scouts had managed to get to the locker room, which wasn't damaged at all. They were all in Joe Torre's office at the moment. The head scout hung up the phone, an amazed look on his face.

"Mr. Steinbrenner's really mad, huh?," a fearful Buttercup asked. "I didn't mean it! It was an accident!"

"Well, unbelievably, he's not, but he can tell you that himself later. We gotta get this stuff outta here before this place falls on our heads. Can you give us a hand?"

"Sure! Where we taking it?"

"To the Flushing Toilet."

"What?!," the Girls shouted.

Professor laughed. "Shea Stadium, Girls. It's across town, in Flushing."

"Must be a dump." Buttercup said.

"It is." answered the scout. "Unfortunately, we're gonna have to share it with the Mets for a while."

All of the files and important papers were gathered and quickly loaded into the three scouts' vehicles, filling them up. Most of the team's equipment was out West with them, but the remaining, plus anything else of value, had to go in the trunk of the Girls' limo. The scout gave instructions to the limo driver, and the Girls and Professor waved goodbye, got in and off they went. The traffic was very heavy and it took fifteen minutes to go three blocks.

Professor looked at his watch. It was just past noon. "We'll never make it to ABC by one o'clock."

Buttercup banged on the plexiglass separating them from the front. "Driver, are we there yet?"

The driver rolled the window down. "Sorry. My pilot's license isn't much good on days like this."

Bubbles and Buttercup looked at each other. "Wanna bet?," the green-eyed 'Puff asked with a grin.

* * * * * * *

 

There were slow news days and there were busy news days. Then there was today. Ted Turner lived for days like this. CNN was his baby, and now, thanks to him, if it was big, the whole world knew about it in minutes. The ironic part was that his chief competition, Disney, who owned ABC, was benefiting not only from CNN's coverage of the Powerpuffs but the Powerpuffs themselves. He could always slap an injunction on 'Millionaire' but that would be seen as sour grapes. The negative publicity could be disastrous. So let ABC have their moment. If Professor Utonium won, it was their money, not his. He would have to be satisfied with small victories. Not an hour ago, he had instigated an emergency conference call of team owners, and by a vote of 28-1, with himself abstaining, superheroes could not play for any Major League club. It would forever be known as the Powerpuff Rule. His second victory of the day was not so small. Steinbrenner's Yankees would now have to share Shea Stadium with the Mets, his Atlanta Braves' rival in the National League. That would certainly mess things up for the Mets and it had been the Powerpuffs who caused it! The icing on the cake was that, at that moment, that idiot John Rocker was disobeying a direct order to not ride the #7 Subway to Shea; where his Braves were opening a four game set with the Mets tonight. Rocker had been told to stay away or be given his walking papers. But the fool insisted on trying to apologize for his earlier controversial remarks in a national sports magazine and those papers were typed and ready to fax to the League office. Good riddance. Yes, it had been a very good day. And it wasn't over yet.

* * * * * * *

With everything unloaded from the limo into its temporary new home at Shea Stadium, the Girls were ready to lift off again for the ABC studios back in Manhattan. Suddenly, they heard a rumbling coming from underground. They felt it, too.

"Earthquake!" Buttercup shouted.

The driver laughed at them out his open window. "That's no earthquake. That's only the subway!"

That's when he felt the car shake. He and the Professor both jumped out.

The driver shouted, "There's something wrong down in the subway!"

"C'mon, Bubbles, let's go!" Buttercup yelled.

They flew off, Professor shouting after them to be careful.

Buttercup told her sister, "I'll look, you listen."

She headed high above the streets, searching for clues. Bubbles stayed low, using her super hearing. Buttercup circled twice over the Stadium, seeing nothing. She was just about to search underground with her x-ray vision...

"Buttercup! Down here!"

Bubbles was hovering over a wide set of concrete steps that led down from the sidewalk out of sight. A number of onlookers had run down there to see what was happening; they were now running back out, panicked.

"Run for your lives!"

Buttercup had just gotten there. "They got monsters here, too? Cool! Let's get 'em!"

They had to push past more crazed citizens running at them; in frustration, they just flew over everyones' heads. They turned two corners, reached the main platform and stopped. Thirty feet away and coming straight at them was a terrified young man, his suit and shirt torn. Another twenty feet behind and gaining was an angry mob of hundreds, screaming obscenities and throwing fresh and not-so-fresh produce at him.

The Girls flew and each grabbed him under an arm, and they headed up to the sidewalk. Furious at having their prey snatched away, the mob increased speed and pounded up the steps after them. When they reached the street, the Girls looked to see which way to go. The man was out of breath and too afraid to talk anyway.

"Bubbles, take him to the car. I'll try to find out what's going on!"

The mob was right behind them again. "Get 'im!"

"Git outta th' way!"

"Hey! Who're you to stop us? Get them, too!"

Back at the car, Bubbles tossed the man in next to a surprised Professor and slammed the door. There were too many people for Buttercup to stop by herself.

"Bubbles!," Buttercup pointed toward the sky.

Bubbles understood, picking the limo up and sailing high in the air with it, above the ballpark. Buttercup hovered over the angry horde; they were now throwing things at her, shouting and starting to smash shop windows.

"SHUT UP!!!!" They didn't even notice. "Bubbles! Use your sonic voice!"

Professor yelled to the driver and the frightened new passenger. "Quick, cover your ears!"

Bubbles screamed, "QUIET!!!"

Everything was, except for the car alarms that went off when the cars' windows shattered. The limo had bullet proof glass and was spared.

Buttercup glared down at the crowd from a safe distance. "What's wrong with you people?"

They all started talking and shouting at once, shaking their fists up at the limousine. Buttercup, seething herself, vaporized an overturned garbage can with her eye beams. That worked. She flew down to eye level with one man, who looked like he might be the leader of the pack. They all had one.

"Well?" Arms crossed, penetrating stare.

He handed her a newspaper. It was the same one with the big picture of Blossom on it. The one with her picture with her arm reared back and that 'Butterball' piece. She remembered it well and opened it up to herself.

"You know who that is? See what I'm doing? I'm gonna start doing it!" She pulled back her arm.

"That's John Rocker!" The man pointed to the paper. "Next page." There was Rocker's picture and a short article rehashing the controversy and another article detailing his plans to ride the #7 train that day. She scanned it quickly, then smacked the man with his own paper.

"You people wanna kill somebody over THIS? Are you NUTS?"

The people in back were grumbling, pushing. She didn't know what to do except start clobbering them if they acted up, but there were too many.

She thought to herself "Man, I wish Blossom was here! I'm no good at talkin'. What would she do?"

She winged it. "Okay, so the guy said some bad things. Maybe he even meant 'em. I do that, too, sometimes. But this is America, ain't it? We're supposed to be able to say what we think. What he did was wrong, but what you're doing is WORSE! And when THAT happens, that's when I come in!"

She drilled another innocent trash can to get her point across. She handed the man his paper.

"You oughta be ashamed of yourselves." She called up to Bubbles, "Come on down!"

"No! Buttercup! Come up here!"

With one more angry look from Buttercup, the crowd began to quietly disperse and she flew up to where Bubbles was floating, holding the car above her. The windows were rolled down.

"Nice job, Girls." Professor told them.

Buttercup pointed at Rocker. "Professor, he's..."

"Yes, Buttercup, we know the whole story."

"Buttercup, you're not gonna believe it!," Bubbles said, excited. "Mr. Steinbrenner called and he's not mad at us! He said thanks to us, he's gonna get a brand new baseball place!"

Buttercup glanced down at Shea Stadium. "Wow! Then let's go flush the Toilet!"

"Buttercup, stop! It doesn't work like that!" Professor shouted.

"Rats!"

She flew up to Rocker's side of the car. He was holding a copy of the paper with her picture in it. She grabbed it and whacked Rocker with it. "Don't do nothin' stupid like that again!"

"Yes, Ma'am!," he said, and he meant it. "Thanks for getting me out of there. I had to try to apologize to those people."

Bubbles started in again, still excited. "His boss fired him for it, and Mr. Steinbrenner wants him to play for the Yankees now!"

Rocker said, "Yeah, thanks to you Girls." He looked at Buttercup. "I heard about you. I'm glad Ill never have to pitch to ya'."

Professor said, "Can we drop you somewhere?"

Rocker answered, "Uh, yeah, you can drop me off at Kennedy. Thanks. I still have time to get out to Anaheim for tonight's game."

Buttercup said to the driver, "Okay, pilot, we fly, you steer!"

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

It was eleven-thirty and Ms. Keane breathed a sigh of relief when the Principal handed her the note. There hadn't been much learning going on today, anyway. They'd been mostly watching the amazing news reports on TV.

" Class, Mayor Mayor has declared the rest of the day a holiday. You may be excused."

"Yaaayy!"

"NO RUNNING!"

After the room emptied, she walked down to the library. Blosom was quietly flipping through a book about Broadway musicals while listening through headphones to a 'books-on-tape' about art history.

Keane tapped her shoulder. "Blossom?"

Blossom turned off the tape, took the headphones off and closed the book.

"Blossom, Mayor closed the schools and most businesses are letting everyone out early to get home for tonight. I didn't want to disturb you, but some incredible things have happened this morning."

She jumped up. "Is it bad?"

Keane laughed. "Well, it certainly looked bad at the time, but, no. Your sisters have been very busy today. Come on, I'll tell you all about it over lunch. Then you can take your nap and I'll fix us something for tonight."

"You're the best, Ms. Keane!"

* * * * * * *

Mojo Jojo had also been tuned into the news that morning. Your average evil genius chimpanzee would be throwing a tantrum over the press those two bug eyed brats were getting. But Mojo was able to see the bigger picture.

"This is all coming together nicely. The more their fame spreads, the more the world will bow down to me, Mojo Jojo, when I have destroyed them! And when I have finished with destroying the Powerpuffs, it is I who will rule the world that is bowing down to me because they are so famous. But I must be getting back to studying useless trivia instead of watching television. CURSES! I HATE show tunes!

* * * * * * *

It was just after two-thirty in New York. A huge crowd had gathered outside the terminal watching the incredible sight of a limousine floating to the ground with two small children beneath it. More footage for the evening news. The Girls had just said their goodbyes to John Rocker and were about to fly off for Manhattan when the phone rang again. The driver answered.

"Yeah, Boss. Oh, hello, Mr. Philbin! They're right here."

Bubbles and Buttercup, standing outside the car, could hear. "Regis!" they exclaimed.

Professor picked up in back. "Mr. Philbin. We're running a bit behind."

Philbin's voice came over the speakers. "I know, the whole world's been watching. You people are out of control!"

"Sorry," said the Girls and Professor.

"No, no, that's good! Don't worry about a thing, just get here when you can. We've got a surprise cooked up for you Girls!"

While Buttercup and Bubbles looked at each other, wondering what that could be, Professor's expression became serious.

"Regis, I'd like a word with you and your producer when we get there."

* * * * * * *

That didn't sound good. Philbin exchanged a quick concerned look with his producer as the two of them sat in Saperstein's office.

"Is there something wrong, Professor?"

"Yes, there is."

"Can you tell me what it is? I can get working on it right now."

"Not now, later."

Philbin spoke into the phone, "Well, then, Professor, we'll see you soon." and hung up.

He turned to Saperstein. "What was that all about?"

They were both very worried. A small army of temps had been brought in to answer the phones at ABC that morning, calls from all over the globe. The estimate of viewers was now up to nearly two billion. If Utonium didn't appear on the show, it would be a disaster.

Saperstein shrugged. "Reege, I have no idea." He wasn't exactly telling the truth.

* * * * * * *

As they approached the ABC studios, the Girls looked down and saw the huge crowd gathered on the sidewalk in front. They also saw smoke rising from the center of the crowd.

Bubbles shouted, "Something's on fire!"

Professor said, "Maybe a car. Hurry, Girls, get us down!"

The driver laughed. "Relax, everybody! It's either some sidewalk vendors or it's one of ABC's crazy stunts. They're always doing something."

Buttercup said, "Hey, yeah! Maybe it's the surprise Regis was talkin' about. Let's go, Bubbles!"

They quickly found the spot that had been reserved for them on the street, right in front. As Professor got out and he and the Girls headed toward the huge assembly, the crowd parted to let them through, cheering and applauding the Powerpuffs for their exploits of the day. Something smelled very good and they remembered they hadn't had lunch.

When they reached the clearing, Buttercup saw him first. "All right, Bubbles!"

"Yippee!" Bubbles flew to Professor and grabbed him around the neck, hugging him. "Oh, thank you, Professor! Thank you thank you thank you!"

He was happy for the attention, but confused. He had nothing to do with what he was seeing. Standing in the middle of a portable kitchen, surrounded by dozens of different steaming pots and skillets, was the great chef Emeril Lagasse. Excited, Bubbles flew right up to him.

"Hi, Emeril, I'm Bubbles! I love your show!"

He smiled back. "Well, thanks, Bubbles. I think you Girls are pretty amazing, too. How's about a big hand for the Powerpuff Girls, everybody?"

More cheering. Set up on the sidewalk around the equipment were some tables, places set. Most seats were filled with VIPs, none of whom the Girls recognized. Buttercup floated up to get a closer look at the various dishes; she was suddenly starving.

"Do you Girls like to cook?" Emeril asked. "I hope you're more comfortable around a kitchen than you are a ballpark!"

This drew a big laugh from the audience, and a frown from Buttercup.

"Heh heh, just kidding!" He'd seen the news. He'd heard they had planned to come to his show tonight, and when George Steinbrenner called and asked him to set this up, he was more than willing. Cute as they were, he didn't want them anywhere near his studio kitchen.

Bubbles was in heaven, just watching the chef moving about stirring, flipping and checking. Buttercup spotted something in a small saute pan that she didn't like the looks of.

"Is that liver?"

Emeril gave the pan a flip and the contents turned over. "Yeah, that's one of my favorites. Tell me, what would you serve that with?"

"Uh, how about some fava beans and a nice Chianti?"

Emeril grinned. "Thank you, Dr. Lecter! Guess she don't like liver, folks. Ah, what kid does?" He turned to reach down into one of the ovens. "Now, here's something you will like!"

He pulled out a pan with a sizzling, perfectly browned rack of lamb. The crowd 'oohed' and 'ahhed' and the Girls floated above the pan, ready to pounce.

Buttercup whispered to Bubbles, "I thought you don't like meat."

Bubbles whispered back, licking her chops. "I'll pretend it's a cake!"

Emeril decided to take a chance. What the heck, it wasn't his stuff and he wasn't cleaning up. "How'd you Girls like to help me serve our guests?"

"Yeah!!"

Professor was beside himself with joy, watching the fun they were having. He'd forgotten his anger until the security guard came up to him.

"Professor Utonium? Mr. Philbin is waiting inside."

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Regis had a nicer office, and that's where he, Saperstein and Professor sat. Professor was nervous yet hoped he could show them how upset he was. He refused offers of something to drink.

Philbin began, "Now, Professor, what's bothering you?"

"I'm not doing the show."

"WHAT?!" Saperstein's jaw nearly hit the floor.

Regis' heart nearly stopped, but he remained outwardly calm. "Why, what's happened?"

Professor held out that morning's New York Post and showed them Blossom's picture. "Would you care to explain this?"

"Anybody could have known Blossom stayed back in Townsville. That's hardly our responsibility." Saperstein said defensively.

"And this?" Professor opened the paper up to the 'Butterball' article. "The only three people who've seen the letter I got from Mr. Steinbrenner are his secretary, myself and YOU. There's things in this article only someone who read that letter would know."

Philbin's face turned red. "Steve, YOU'RE behind this?"

Saperstein swallowed hard but said nothing.

"Professor, do you know what kind of spot you put us in if you walk out now? Is there ANYTHING we can do to fix this?" Philbin asked

Professor was thinking about poor disappointed Bubbles and didn't know Steinbrenner had set up Emeril's appearance outside the studios. "Maybe you already have. Did you have anything to do with what's going on out front?"

Regis picked up the phone on his desk. "What's going on outside?" He waited a minute for an answer and hung up. "Oh, they're probably taping that for some future use. I don't get the connection."

Professor said, "I was taking my daughter Bubbles to Emeril's show tonight until you moved the show back. That was before I saw the newspaper. Read this."

He handed Philbin a sheet of paper, who read it over and handed it to Saperstein.

'In consideration for my appearance on the show, ABC Television agrees to the following:

Without regard to any prize money won, ABC will provide and pay for:

First class travel to New York for my daughter Blossom, following the show's conclusion.

Tickets to 'Emeril Live', as many as are needed, for one show.

Lodging at our current hotel, through this Saturday.

First class transportation for the remainder of our stay.

Any additional expenses arising from our stay in New York, including meals, sightseeing, shows, etc.

First class travel for our return to Townsville this Sunday.

In addition, ABC will pay all of the above for a friend of my daughters' choosing.

Saperstein said, "We don't do things like this for anyone!"

Professor shot back, "What are you getting for a 30 second commercial? Five million? Six?"

Philbin wondered to himself, "Where did he get THAT information?" "Consider it done, Professor. Now, why don't we go sample some of Emeril's wonderful cooking? Then you can meet your fellow contestants and we'll get started on show prep. Go ahead, Professor, we'll be right out."

After Professor was gone and the door closed, Saperstein looked sheepishly at Philbin. "Sorry, Reege."

"Sorry! Sorry, nothing! You can't BUY that kind of publicity! I'd have guaranteed him the million out of my own pocket. Steve, you're a genius!"

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

The streets of Townsville were practically deserted. Everyone was home or somewhere glued to a TV . Even the local press, who you might figure would be camped around the Utonium home, cared enough for their local heroines to convince the swarm of media people that invaded Townsville to respect Blossom's privacy. This made Mojo Jojo's job that much easier. He arrived at the house at a quarter to five, figuring fifteen minutes would be plenty to subdue Blossom. After the show, he would dispose of her and return to booby-trap the house, lying in wait for the other two. The expected rain never came and he looked silly, carrying the umbrella, but he would soon be inside. Then he noticed the car parked in the driveway. But Professor Utonium's car was still in the airport parking lot. Did Blossom have a visitor? Who could it be? Ah, it did not matter; he would subdue and dispose of them as well. Nothing was going to stop him, now! He rang the bell. He was surprised to see the Girls' teacher on the other side of the door when it opened.

"Hello? Oh, Mojo Jo!"

Mojo quickly leapt at Ms. Keane, covering her mouth, and wrestled her to the floor with his superior strength. He kicked the door shut behind him. He soon had her mouth, hands and feet secured with duct tape. He left her where she was, on the floor, and quietly went off in search of Blossom. He walked past the tables they had set up in the living room, obviously to eat dinner while the show was on. How disgustingly nice! That meant the accursed little Powerpuff was probably in the kitchen. He stepped into the hall and waited for her. He could hear her out there.

"Who is it, Ms. Keane?" Blossom called from the kitchen.

Mojo watched for her shadow on the wall. There it was! She came around the corner with a bowl of salad in each hand, and spotted him as he stepped away from the wall, pointing his umbrella at her.

"Mojo! What? Ms. Keane!"

Before she could do anything but drop the bowls, a net sprung out from the umbrella's tip, covering her; and it immediately closed around her. Salad spilled all over the floor.

"Ms. Keane! What did you to her, you big baboon?" she shouted as she struggled against the netting.

"Muahahaha! Foolish little Powerpuff! The more you struggle the tighter it becomes!" Mojo first placed a strip of reflective metal, shiny side down, over her eyes and secured it with tape.

" Do not attempt to use your eye beams, Powerpuff Girl Blossom, unless you wish to burn a hole through the back of your head!"

He secured her hands and feet with tape and carried the bundle into the living room and tossed it down onto the couch. Soon the teacher was propped up next to Blossom.

"See no evil, speak no evil. But you can both hear me just fine! Muahaha! And now, Powerpuff Girl Blossom, and you too, teacher; enjoy the show. It will be your last. Too bad you won't see your Professor's face when I answer the call and not you!"

He found the TV remote and turned it on, it was set to the correct channel; it was 4:58 P.M.

Blossom said calmly, "You'll never get away with it, Mojoke. What if Professor doesn't even get on?"

"Huh?" Mojo thought. "CURSES! She is right! But in order for the world to witness my superior intellect, he MUST get on! He must he must he must! Why does she always have to spoil my fun? CURSES!"

* * * * * * *

New York summers were hot, and even with the air conditioning running full blast, it was warm in the studio. The TV lights made it worse. But Regis Philbin appeared cool to the now roughly two and a half billion folks tuned in. He knew the hottest spot in town was the empty chair across the monitor from him. The director gave him his cue.

"Good evening everyone, and welcome to 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire'. As you know, this is the first live broadcast in our short history, and unless you've been in a coma for the last 24 hours, you're well aware of who our guest contestant is tonight, and the events that led us here. The atmosphere in here is positively ELECTRIC! Now, in fairness to our other contestants, I'd like to say that no one contestant has a better chance than anyone else of advancing to our hot seat. Each contestant will make it based on their knowledge and coolness under pressure. You all know how the game works, so let's play!"

Philbin introduced the ten players, and they each drew cheers and applause as the camera held on their face for a few seconds. Another camera panned on the studio audience, including many of the entertainment industry's big names; some of them had paid ticket scalpers ridiculous sums to be seen this night. The Girls looked tiny in their seats, and even the normally wary Buttercup appeared awestruck at what was happening.

"Okay, here's the first 'Fastest Finger' question. Put these radioactive isotopes in order from least to most stable." He read them off.

Millions of viewers around the world, knowing Professor was a scientist, shouted in their native languages, "FIX!"

"And the fastest time, 2.31 seconds, is...Melvin Koznofsky from Peoria, Illinois!"

Millions of viewers around the world muttered, "Maybe not."

Blossom and Mojo shouted, at the same time, "Professor!"

Fifteen minutes later, after Koznofsky had used up his lifelines and walked away with his 64 grand, Mojo asked, "Well, teacher, who is winning?"

He had removed the tape from Ms. Keane's mouth so she could keep score. Mojo had to go first, holding up the corresponding number of fingers to letters, one for A, etcetera. Blossom, still sightless, would call out her answer.

"You are." Keane said. "Blossom has one wrong."

"Hot-a-dog!" he crowed, pounding a fist into an open palm.

Blossom was unperturbed. "Big deal, Mojo. What're you gonna do if Professor gets carried over 'til tomorrow?"

His eyes went wide again. He thought, "Confound her! I had not considered that, either!"

He answered, nonchalant "Not to worry, Professor will be up next."

After a commercial break, Regis read the next qualifying question. Seconds later, the world was watching some woman walk to the golden chair.

"Professor, that was so EASY!" Blossom complained.

Ms. Keane said, "He must be very nervous. I would be."

The lady tripped up at 16 thousand and walked away with one, using up ten more minutes.

"How embarrassing!" Mojo said to himself.

Ms. Keane said, "You're tied, one wrong apiece."

"Hah!" Blossom crowed. "Come on, Professor!" She fidgeted nervously in spite of being bound.

"Come on, Professor!" Keane and Mojo said simultaneously.

"Here's our next 'Fastest Finger' question. Everyone ready?" Regis read off the card. "Put these rock groups in order of their earliest appearance. A) Derek and the Dominoes B) Blind Faith C) Yardbirds D) Cream."

Keane yelled, "CDBA!"

Blossom and Mojo stared at her.

" The correct order is CDBA. And the fastest time, 1.35 seconds, is... Professor Utonium from Townsville!"

Professor jumped from his chair and pumped his fist. "Clapton is God!" He blushed, looking around nervously.

Blossom and Mojo were still staring at Keane. She smiled. "That would be..uh..two wrong apiece?"

Loud cheering erupted as Professor walked to the hot seat. A quick camera shot showed Buttercup and Bubbles hugging each other joyfully. That brought the attention of the viewers at the Utonium household back into focus. This was the longest Blossom had been separated from her sisters ever in her life and her heart ached for them. Seeing their happy faces caught at Keane's heartstrings, too. Mojo was glued to Philbin and the Professor.

Regis sat back and raised an eyebrow at Professor. "Clapton is God?"

Professor tugged at his collar. "Uh, that was from my hippie days, heh heh."

"Nice to see our contestants getting pumped up, isn't it, folks? Now, Professor, the whole world knows about you and your three wonderful kids. Hi, Buttercup, Hi, Bubbles," he waved toward them.

They waved back at the camera and everyone watching.

Regis looked directly into the camera. "Hi, Blossom. What a remarkable young lady you must be. I can't wait to meet you."

Mojo shook his fist at the screen. "You will wait forever, you fool! Now shut up, you are wasting time!"

"Now, Professor, tell us the story of how you came to be on our show."

"No, Professor, don't!" Blossom yelled.

While Mojo pulled his fur in frustration, Professor quickly told the world how his absent-mindedness had lead Blossom to make the fateful call. When he was done, Ms. Keane and Mojo looked at Blossom, who couldn't see them or she would have cringed. She was, on the inside anyway.

Philbin said, "What an incredible story! Professor, are you ready for the hundred dollar question? Then let's play!"

Mojo fretted as there were only twenty minutes left, with at least another set of commercials. But, Professor breezed through the questions with ease, using the audience at 16 thousand and the fifty-fifty when he reached 125 thousand, attempting to win the 250 thousand. The world waited anxiously as Regis studied the card.

"Professor, your answer...for a quarter million dollars...is the right one!"

The Girls were bouncing in their seats as the camera caught them. Mojo, Keane and Blossom were just as caught up, they had forgotten all about keeping score'.

Regis said, "Professor, you have one lifeline. Here's the question for half a million dollars. In the Broadway musical 'Bye 'Bye Birdie, what is the first name of the lead character? Is it, A) Walter B) C.D. C) Conrad D) Richard"

Blossom laughed, "C.D. Birdie! Ha! That's a good one! But...I don't know the answer!"

"Regis, I really hate to put Blossom on the spot like this. 250 thousand dollars is a lot of money. I should just be happy with it and walk away."

"Professor Utonium. This is the moment we've all been waiting for. Think of how Blossom will feel if she knows the answer and that phone call never comes. Besides, you still have the final say."

He reluctantly agreed.

"Great! Our friends at AT&T will call Blossom right now."

They knew it was coming but when it rang, they jumped anyway. Mojo grabbed it.

"Hello, Blossom? This is Regis Philbin from 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire'"

Mojo drawled, "Hiiii Reeeege!"

Professor jumped from his seat as Regis said, "My, what a deep voice you have!"

"That's not Blossom! That's Mojo Jojo!"

Regis looked perplexed. "Mojo Jojo? The evil monkey criminal? This is highly unusual. He is not a registered phone-a-friend."

Mojo shouted, "Quit talking you idiot and let me answer the question!"

Professor shouted back, "What have you done with my daughter?"

"Why, kidnapped her, of course, along with her teacher, but there isn't time for that now! The show is almost over!"

"He's right, Professor, I need an answer. The judges backstage inform me that Mojo Jojo may give you the answer."

Mojo yelled, "The answer is C, Conrad! Of this I am 100% certain!"

Blossom shouted, "It's a trick, Professor!"

Keane said, "No, Blossom, he's right."

Mojo turned to them. "Hey, I didn't spend the last two days studying Broadway shows for nothing!"

Regis said, "Professor, we can't carry this one over to tomorrow, I need your answer."

"Oh, all right, I don't care if I lose! C, that's my final answer!"

The 'out of time' horn went off.

Regis studied the little card. "Professor, Mojo Jojo is absolutely... correct! You've won a half-million dollars!"

Mojo shut the TV off with the remote and danced jubilantly around the living room.

Blossom said, "Told you, Mojo, now you have to wait until tomorrow to see if Professor wins the million."

"I do not care if he wins! Now the whole world knows that I, Mojo Jojo, the most intelligent primate that ever lived, am about to..."

CRASH!!!!

"...get my butt kicked!"

Buttercup and Bubbles beat him senseless, leaving him in a heap, mumbling the words to 'What's the Matter With Kids Today?' from 'Bye 'Bye Birdie'. They quickly freed Blossom and Ms. Keane.

Buttercup blurted out, "We took off as soon as we heard Mojo on the phone!"

Bubbles said angrily, "Bad monkey!" and was about to give him another kick.

"Wait!" Ms. Keane and Blossom both interceded.

"Don't be too hard on him." Keane said.

Blossom added, "Yeah, he won Professor a half million dollars!"

"He did? Thanks, Mojo!" Buttercup told him.

He looked up through swollen eyes, and through cracked lips, switched to 'If I Were a Rich Man' from Fiddler on the Roof.

Bubbles said excitedly, "Blossom, you're coming back with us! We're stayin in New York until Sunday!"

"Yeah, and Professor said we can bring one of our friends if we want!" Buttercup finished.

Blossom thought for a moment. "Huddle!"

The Girls quickly met in midair and whispered excitedly, then broke formation.

Blossom said, "Ms. Keane? Wanna come?"

Their shocked teacher thought back a few days to when she heard they were going to New York. "I'd give anything in the world to be there with them!" That 'anything' included a few vacation days she had coming.

"Yay!"

* * * * * * *

Blossom and Ms. Keane got rid of the spilled salad and the rest of the ruined dinner they'd spent the afternoon preparing.

Buttercup called Townsville Prison. "Warden? Get the Mojo-chute ready!"

The warden thanked Buttercup and dialed a number. He spoke into the phone. "Incoming!"

Buttercup carried Mojo outside and punted him high into the sky.

Up on the prison roof, two uniformed officers raised a portion of the roof just as a speeding object sailed into the open space. Mojo whooshed through a long tube and popped through a doggie door into a waiting cell; skidding along the floor. He came to rest against a bunk, upside down on his cracked turban, mumbling the words to 'Jailhouse Rock'. From the next cell, a huge, muscular inmate looked at him.

"Oh, I LOVE show tunes!"

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

Seated at a private table in the rear of one of New York's better restaurants were Regis Philbin, Professor Utonium, Ms. Keane, Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles. Dinner was over, it was well past ten, but Professor didn't mind. The Girls probably wouldn't sleep much tonight anyway; it had been a day none of them would ever forget. Regis had been brought up to speed on the Mojo story and could hardly wait for tomorrow evening's conclusion when Professor opened the show going for the big prize. ABC was counting on 3-plus billion viewers for that one, to be shown live as well.

"Blossom, would you like to tell your story on the show? The world is dying to see the bright young lady who got cheated out of her big moment." Regis asked her.

Buttercup thought to herself "Gee, it's a two hour show?" She loved her sister fiercely but never passed up a chance to take a dig at her over her 'smartness'. She let this one go; she and Bubbles had had the spotlight on them all day. Blossom deserved it. "Yeah, Blossom, go for it!"

"Yeah!" Bubbles chipped in. "Professor, can I please be excused?"

"Yes, dear. Remember to walk!"

Bubbles floated the few inches down to the floor and walked toward the rear and out of sight.

Professor spoke for Blossom. "Well, Regis, if Blossom wants to, and it doesn't take away from the other contestants' time."

"Don't worry about that, we can hold them over another day."

"Okay, sure." Blossom said.

Someone came through the door in the back and approached the table. "Well, folks, how was everything?"

Keane looked up at the host. "Oh, Emeril, everything was WONDERFUL!"

She was starstruck. Meeting Regis Philbin, having dinner with him at Emeril Lagasse's , served by the chef himself! It was all too much. Then she considered that the Girls, especially now, would be just as famous. And she knew them not as celebrities, but as the beautiful children they were, her pupils. Everything was relative.

Emeril smiled at her and said, "Well, I hope you saved room for dessert. Here it comes now!"

On cue, Bubbles floated out from the kitchen, carrying a large tray with New York-style cheesecake with fresh strawberries that Emeril himself had prepared. She went around the table, expertly placing a plate in front of each person, and lastly at her spot.

Emeril said, "Nicely done, Bubbles! How about a hand for my assistant?"

Bubbles blushed and bowed as she received the applause.

"Wow, Bubbles," Buttercup asked, "Did you make this?"

"Not really," she answered, holding up a bowl of shaved chocolate. "But I helped! Who wants some?"

Regis laughed. "Sure, Bubbles, go ahead and put some on there!"

"Okay!" she said, looking at Emeril as he smiled back. "Here it comes!"

She scooped some chocolate with a spoon and held it over the plate.

"BAM!"

 

EPILOGUE

 

The next four days in the big city were busy ones:

On Wednesday:

Ted Turner started the day off in Atlanta with the report of ABC's overnight numbers. They were beyond belief. Then he opened the Journal-Constitution to the sports page.

ROCKER NO-HITS ANGELS IN YANK'S DEBUT

His day went downhill from there.

George Steinbrenner and Mayor Giuliani held a joint press conference announcing that the Powerpuff Girls would rebuild Yankee Stadium. With Blossom on hand to read the blueprints, the work was completed by early afternoon. Among the many state-of-the-art features was triple the previous number of ladies' restrooms. With the money the City of New York saved on labor costs, the Girls were able to complete full renovations on Shea Stadium by dinnertime.

Ted Turner had a new favorite saying: CUURRSSES!!!

'Millionaire' was viewed by a worldwide audience of 4 billion, who saw Professor Utonium walk away with his half-million intact after passing on the million dollar question. His guess would have been incorrect.

Blossom's segment captured the imagination of the world, as she insisted her sisters join her in the limelight.

Mojo Jojo used his one phone call to qualify as a contestant on 'Millionaire'.

On Thursday:

The Girls appeared on 'Good Morning America' and Regis' morning show. The rest of the day was spent with Professor and Ms. Keane, enjoying the sights of Manhattan.

Bubbles finally fulfilled her dream of seeing Emeril's live TV show. When he asked her to come up and help him prepare a dish, she performed flawlessly.

In the remaining two days of their New York vacation, aside from stopping two bank robberies, a jewel heist and rescuing a sinking cruise ship in New York harbor, each of the Girls could do the one thing she really wanted to do. Blossom saw her Broadway play with Ms. Keane; Buttercup talked Professor and Bubbles into watching the Friday night fights at Madison Square Garden and Bubbles didn't care; she'd done the one thing she wanted. Other than that, they just enjoyed the sights, sounds and smells of the city and ordered room service in the luxury of their suites.

Professor Utonium and Ms. Keane had many opportunities to talk, and learned that they had a lot more in common than a love of science and listening to Eric Clapton.

And most importantly, Professor and the Girls realized that Townsville wouldn't cease to be if the Powerpuff Girls weren't there to protect it every minute of their lives. There would be vacations to come.

THE END

Story written June-July 2000.

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