F4: New Beginnings

Chapter 3: Beginning

Elmo Sputterspark was like a beanpole; tall and thin. His messy mop of short, dark brown hair stood out against his light brown fur. His tail was longer and thinner than most rats'. There was a small notch in his left ear. He wore a yellow shirt, thick glasses, and way too many watches.

He hurried through the stormy night, wide umbrella and thick raincoat doing little to alleviate his fears as he scurried up the steps to his apartment building. Breathing a sigh of relief once inside the - dry - main hall, he headed straight up the stairs, ready for this day to be over.

“It was horrible, Maurice.” he complained to a lamp on the third floor. “I shorted out three times! I had to recharge on the road, so the car's battery's shot, and now it starts raining. Where are my keys?”

Elmo patted himself down, eventually finding the keys in his left jean pocket. He cursed, seeing that the little bit of paper with his room number wasn't there, having either fallen off or gotten burned during one of his short outs.

Hand to the wall, Elmo closed his eyes and started walking forward, following the currents of the unseen wires. He had lived in that apartment since he was eighteen years old, but even after two years he couldn't remember the number.

He stopped at number four, opening his eyes. “Hey, Samantha.” he greeted the lamp near his door with a smile, putting his key in the lock. His smile faltered when the door swung open; had he forgotten to lock it that morning? Or had he just unlocked it already and forgotten?

He walked in slowly, his whiskers twitching, small sparks of blue energy traveling up his tail. His apartment was how he left it; small, white tiled kitchen connected straight onto the red carpeted living room, every available space taken over by lamps, toasters, fans, and other appliances. Multi-outletted extension cords criss-crossed the ground, yellow curtains were drawn tight across the only window, and a battered green couch sat across from a boxy television.

He spent a few minutes talking to the electronics, but not a single one of them was out of place. He even talked to the hairdryers and electric razers in the tiny bathroom, but they were all good as well. Alright, he must have just forgotten to lock-

And that's when he spotted it, his bedroom door, slightly ajar. He knew that he had locked that door, he always kept it locked, because that was where he hid his… experiments. (He preferred sleeping on the couch anyways.).

He dashed in and flicked on the light, becoming momentarily confused when nothing happened, before remembering that he gave the room's lightbulb - Fredrick - the week off.

He grabbed a lightbulb from the living room (Ben) and held it in his left hand, sending a soft current through. As the light filled the room, he looked around. Green carpet, burned and singed from many past experiments, tools and notebooks strewn everywhere. Complicated, dangerous, and half-finished machines were pressed against the walls.

Elmo's eyes wondered to the one hint that the place was a bedroom; the bed. He nearly dropped Ben when he saw what was on it. A small section on the bed had been cleared of notebooks, instead holding a brown box with a letter on top, the words 'Megavolt' clear as day upon the envelope.

Elmo balanced the box in his arms, setting it down carefully in the living room, then slowly locked the bedroom door. He put Ben next to some other light bulbs, muttering a thanks for his help, then stared at the box.

Unpleasant, unwelcomed memories flashed through his brain, as did a bit of anger. If this was one of Jackie's stupid pranks…

Trembling hands opened the envelope and took out the letter, face paling as he read.

Dear Mr Sputterspark - or is it Megavolt? Yes, I know who you are, or rather, were. Enclosed is some money, to help with your electric bill; wouldn't want anyone investigating all that extra power usage because of a late payment, now would we?

İf you want your secrets to remain safe, you'll come to the abandoned dock works at 19:00 next Saturday, second building from the left. Oh, and remember to wear what's in the box.

Signed, The Boss.

Elmo gulped, shaking as he looked in the box. What he found there was almost enough to make him faint. A yellow jumpsuit, thick blue boots and gloves, all made of rubber. It was almost exactly what he wore that fateful, horrible night.

Except now there was extra; a harness with an outlet on the front and a large red battery on back, connected to a belt with a charging cord on the side, all blues and silvers besides the battery (he was almost grateful, already able to tell that it would help with his recharging problems). There was also an orange rubber hat with two metal prongs sticking out the top, shaped like a plug.

Last he found thick blue goggles, much better quality than the science lab goggles he wore… last time. He took off his glasses and tried them on, discovering that they were his exact prescription. Okay, this was getting creepier…

A two-minute panic attack later, and Elmo was grabbing his cellphone from his pocket and dialing the one person he trusted.

“Hey, Sparky, I was just about to call you-” Jack began, less jovially than usual.

“DON'T CALL ME SPARKY!” Elmo couldn't help but interrupt, his personal problems briefly forgotten in the face of his hated nickname.

“Alright, fine!” Jack sighed loudly “I'm sorry. Listen-”

“In a second, Jackie, someone broke into my apartment!” Elmo tried to take a deep breath, failed, and started speaking faster. “They didn't hurt anyone, thank Edison, but they left a box and a letter. Jackie, they know about my powers, they know what I… what I did. They said they were gonna tell unless-”

“Unless you wear a silly costume and go to the docks on Saturday?” Jack asked, voice filled with worry.

“Y-yes. How did you know?“

“Because İ got one too.” Jack gave a bitter laugh. “They knew about my side projects, Elmo. They know about my special toys.”

“So… we're going?” Elmo asked.

“Yes, Sparky, we're going.” Jack laughed quietly, so different than his normal belly laughs.

“Don't call me Sparky.” The reaction was harsh toned, but quiet and automatic. His voice softened. “But, at least we won't be alone. We'll have each other.”

“Yeah. And at least with both of us being blackmailed, İ can make sure your deepest secrets don't get revealed just because you forgot your name again.”

“İ know my name!” Elmo protested. “It's Elmo.”

“Elmo what?” Jack asked, his tone teasing.

“Er… Sparker.. wait, Sputter, um… Sparkplug?”

Jack's roaring laughter came clearly through the phone, easing the tension. Holding the phone away from his sensitive ears, Elmo joined in with his own quiet chuckle.

Saturday, 18:37

Elmo looked in the mirror, fitting the plug hat over his short tuft of hair. He couldn't believe he was really doing this. Maybe he wasn't, maybe he had gotten the days confused. Again.

Those hopes were dashed as his phone dinged with a text message from Jack, telling him to hurry up. Elmo sighed, leaving the bathroom.

“Sorry, guys, none of you can come along. It's too dangerous.” He told his electronics. He walked over to the TV, patting it. “If I don't come back, Bess is in charge. Listen to her. Take care, my precious brethren, and be safe.”

He sniffled, wiping away a tear as he locked up his apartment. He whispered goodbyes to each lamp as he crept through the dark hallway and down the stairs.

Outside the building was a white box van. Elmo got in quickly and buckled, not yet looking at Jack.

“About time, Sparky!” the duck whisper-yelled.

“Don't call me Spark-” Elmo's complaint died in his throat as he finally laid eyes on the other. The avian was slightly shorter than Elmo himself, meaning he was insanely tall by duck standards, but was still thin. His beak was about the twice the size of a regular duck, with large teeth and a slight overbite. He was wearing baggy, purple-blue pants and shirt, with a yellow sash for a belt. Each puffy shirt sleeve was light orange, the left one having red stripes, while the other red dots. Soft white gloves and red cloth shoes covered his extremities. A half-blue half-red harlequin hat with bells, and a large, frilled white collar completed the look.

“Why are staring at me like that?” Jack asked snippily.

Elmo, realizing he gone quiet for several minutes, went bright red and cleared his throat. “S-sorry, Jackie. I just never realized how… cute your mascot was, before.”

Jack froze, looking at him with a grin.

“Don't look at me like that!” Elmo shouted. He quieted to a whisper, looking around. “We're being blackmailed, remember? We don't have time for mushy stuff. Yah!!!”

Elmo sparked, electricity shooting through him for several seconds before he managed to pull his tail out from the car charger port.

A half-pealed banana doll (the peals forming hair) with a green shirt, gloves hands, and a creepy face laughed at him, having put his tail in there in the first place.

In a tired but calm voice, Elmo snarked. “So, still haven't tried an exorcism, huh?”

“Nope.” Jack replied with a shrug, driving the car away from the building.

“Too bad.” Megavolt looked at the window for a second, face scrunched up in thought. “Hey, Jackie, what were we just talking about? I think your doll fried my memory again.”

“You were telling me how much you like my costume.” Jack replied with a snicker.

“Oh! That makes sense, it's super neat.” Elmo said enthusiastically, smiling. “You should dress as your mascot more often.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I will.” Jack shrugged, trying to hide his blush. He scowled. “But I don't like being blackmailed into playing dress up like I'm some doll!”

“Hey, I take offeeeense to that.” The banana doll complained in a deep, echoing voice. He turned to Elmo. “Will you plaaaaay with meeee?”

“Sorry, Whacky, don't got time right now.” Elmo leaned back in his seat. “Maybe after we're done being blackmailed by this mysterious Boss.”

Quackerjack's hand shot out, grabbing the doll. He struggled to drive one handed as he held him up, talking in a high falsetto out of the side of his mouth. “Gee, Smee, why doncha introduce 'em to me? I'd be sure to have a whole lot of fun, at the expense of the big dum-dum.”

Quackerjack threw the doll down, quickly grabbing the steering wheel with both hands. In his normal voice, though a lot angrier than usual, he shouted “Paddywhack, if you ever possess me while I am driving again, I'm throwing you out the window and letting you find your own way home!”

“Spoilsport.” Paddywhack grumbled, rubbing his 'head'. He crossed his arms over his dark blue lap, slumping backwards.

It was quiet for a few more minutes, before Jack spoke up. “I just don't get it. How did they know? No one knows about my 'hobby' except for you. Elmo, you didn't- you didn't tell anyone, did you?”

“Jackie, I would never!” Elmo protested. “Even if I forgot, I'm more likely to forget the secret entirely then to forget not to tell anyone. You can trust me.”

“I know I can, Mo. Heck, this isn't even the only secret of mine you're keeping.” his eyes pointedly flicked to the grumpy doll sitting between them. “But how'd they know your secret? I mean, I guess they could've found mine, but I'm the only one that knows yours. And I swear I didn't tell.”