Chapter Text
Robert was sweaty, and covered in oil and grease. That’s what he gets for spending half his lunch break working on the Mecha. Shit, Royd would probably redo all of his work anyways. Why did he even bother?
Robert scrubbed at his hands and forearms for several minutes before finally feeling clean enough to be touching his work computer. He began his trek back across the slippery floors of the locker room to put his stupid sweaty work shirt back on, but was interrupted halfway through his journey.
“Oh- uhm- Hi- Hi mister- Robert- boss.” Waterboy flubbed.
“Hey, Waterboy.” Robert grimaced as he watched the younger man stomp Flambae’s discarded lunch down the shower drain. He watched a noodle slip down the front of the uniform.“That’s- not…”
“Oh- It’s- it’s okay, look…” Waterboy gave the shower drain a particularly energetic kick. “See? Won’t… Won’t clog.”
“Ah, I didn’t realize you had a plan.” Robert said. It would probably still clog, but he didn’t have the heart to tell Waterboy that.
“I- um, I heard I’m going to be joining the Z-Team, uhm, thank you- for the opportunity.” Waterboy stammered.
“Wasn’t my choice, but I’m glad you’re looking forward to it. You deserve the chance to be a hero.” Robert believed that, he really did. The man would probably benefit from it in the confidence department, and the team would benefit from a kind, gentle soul like Waterboy. Hopefully.
“Yeah- um- I already thanked Miss- Blonde Blazer- but- I’m excited. I’ve- I always wanted to be a hero. And you- You already helped me- with- with the tie and getting hired- um- I’m just- I hope I can do good.”
Robert gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you will.”
And with that, he continued his way to his locker.
— — —
“Hello, Robert.”
Robert nearly dropped his towel.
“A moment of your time.” Phenomaman continued.
“Jesus- how do you move so quiet?” Robert asked, closing his locker.
“I float.” Yeah, that’ll do it. The larger man did indeed hover a few inches off of the ground, though he would still be about a head taller than Robert without the added height. He would cut an intimidating figure, if it weren’t for the hunched shoulders and overall pathetically dejected demeanor.
“I can remove my clothes, if that would make you more comfortable.” Phenomaman seemed to sense his discomfort.
“No- that- that would not help. Look- if this is about picking you for Z-Team, it wasn’t my choice but-” Robert started, before he was abruptly hauled off of his feet and brought into a violently tight hug.
“Thank you.” Phenomaman whispered in his ear, voice surprisingly tender for how intensely he was squeezing Robert.
“No- need. You’re- a legend - you- should- be out - doing good.” Robert choked out, making a valiant effort to keep from puking his guts out.
“But to do good, you need to be doing good. That’s what a Human Person would say.” Phenomaman tightened his grip.
“Yeah- I’m sure- someone would say that.” Robert wheezed. What the fuck did that mean? Doing good? Like, mentally? What?
Phenomaman released him, holding him out by the shoulders like a ragdoll. “My hug of gratitude seems to have re-opened your chest wounds.”
Robert looked down to his bleeding chest. “Ah. Yeah. Cool.”
Phenomaman set him down, at last, and Robert fixed his drooping towel before re-dressing his wounds, then himself. Man, whatever. Wasn’t the first odd instance with this team. At least Phenomaman had the excuse of being a literal alien, instead of just being plain-old socially inept.
— — —
“Alright, guys, I know it’s already been a bit weird lately, with someone maybe getting fired and then not, but-”
Blonde Blazer was quickly, and loudly cut off.
“Weird is fucking right, are you kidding?” Flambae’s voice came careening through the comms.
“Do not tell me someone changed their mind.” Prism groaned.
“Oh boy.” Golem’s resonant grumble came through.
Several more, unintelligible, remarks overlapped.
“Alright, clear the line.” Robert commanded.
There was some grumbling, but eventually, blissful silence.
“Ahem, um, as I was saying! Higher ups want to make efforts in training to decrease our turnover rate and help employee retention, and we always need more heroes, so… Everyone, meet Waterboy! And… Phenomaman.” Blazer’s voice strained a bit as the latter of the two was added to the channel.
“Blonde Blazer.” Phenomaman’s voice reverberated over the comms. “It is nice to hear your voice once more. I am looking forward to working with this Z-Team.”
“Uhm, hi- hello, everyone- everybody, I’m, uh, j- I’m jizzed to join you!” Waterboy sputtered out his introduction.
“Jazzed.” Robert intervened, too loud as he realized the trainwreck this poor sweet young man was creating for himself. “Jazzed is the word you’re looking for.”
The damage was already done. Blazer’s profile blipped out, leaving Robert to fend for himself.
It was horrible, like tossing a newborn antelope on thin, brand new legs straight into a lion’s den.
“Oh shite!” Punch Up laughed. “Maybe he’ll fit right in!”
A cacophony of other less-than-appropriate comments flooded in.
“Jizzlord Johnson over here ready to be a hero!” Sonar hollered.
“That’s his fucking power, cumming all over the fucking place, fucking freako.” Flambae grumbled.
“Oh my GOD,” Prism gasped, endlessly entertained by the poor boy’s fumble, “Tell me you did not just say that.”
“Ah- Uhm- Sor- Sorry, I uh- Jazzed. Jazzed is what I meant.” Waterboy flailed.
“You’re putting the fucking janitor on the team?” Flambae sounded disgusted, likely remembering the instance from the shift prior where Waterboy had tossed Flambae’s food while cleaning out the breakroom fridge. “Phenomaman was at least a real hero.”
“I believe I have now been reinstated as a hero upon joining the Z-Team. I would still consider myself a hero presently.” Phenomaman interjected, slightly downtrodden at the implication.
An alert came through, an interview for the Bone Zone podcast. Robert assigned Sonar and Prism. Sonar approved the request wordlessly.
“Oh fuck yeah- that’s a use for my talents.” Prism accepted the job. “Are we just babysitting every pathetic fucking underwhelming hero until they stop being shit? Is that what we are now, the stepping stool team?” She demanded.
“I don’t know, guys. I know it feels frustrating and like they’re not taking you guys seriously, but have you considered that maybe it’s because you don’t take your fucking jobs seriously? Waterboy and Phenomaman deserve this just as much as you guys do.” Robert sighed.
“Th- Thank you- Rob- Boss- Robert sir.” Waterboy managed.
“Uh, bwuh, um, uh, fucking spit it out, fucking idiot food-thrower-awayer.” Flambae grumbled.
“Flambae.” Robert’s tone turned ice. “Do we need a repeat of the breakroom? You want to make a mess again? Don’t fucking make me treat you like a child.”
Flambae fell silent, likely reminiscing on the protein shake Robert had hurled at his head after a similar outburst towards Waterboy, roughly half an hour ago.
“Someone’s protective.” Visi muttered. Something seemed off in her tone, perhaps jealousy?
Robert didn’t care enough to pry.
“By the- um- by the way- it’s um- so cool- awesome to meet you- I’m uh- I’m a phenom- phenomenal- phenomafan!” Waterboy’s tone was earnest, if not laced in hesitation.
“Is that the wet janitor who shakes like a small dog?” Phenomaman asked.
“Uhm- Yep- yeah- that’s me- that’s… who I am..” Waterboy audibly deflated upon the less-than-enthusiastic response from his idol.
“Well. I am sure this will go well. After my departure from the Downtown Los Angeles branch, I am excited to be back in the field.” Phenomaman sighed.
“I heard you got canned after Blazer dumped your sorry ass, what’s up with that?” Visi prodded.
“Okay- Stop- That does not need to be a conversation.” Robert grimaced.
“The mean child is correct. I entered what the Superhero Dispatch Network medical team has deemed a ‘depressive episode’ and my performance decreased dramatically.” Phenomaman lamented. “They saw it fit to terminate my employment. It has indeed been difficult.”
“This guy’s kind of a downer.” Golem mumbled.
“Fucking tell me about it, he keeps leaving melon arrangements in the breakroom. Fucking gross.” Flambae said.
“Oh- That was- your melons?” Waterboy asked. “I uhm- I like the- the green-dew. They’re- my favorite.”
“The green-dew?” Invisigal laughed.
“They’re called Honeydew Melons.” Coupé corrected.
“Uhm- Thanks- thank you- uh- miss- Coopey?” Waterboy tried.
“Coupé.” She corrected gently. “Most of the team calls me Coop.”
“Coupé.. Coop- Thank you.” Waterboy repeated carefully. He sounded a bit awestruck.
“Oooo- someone’s got a crush- look out!” Punch-Up laughed. His tone, surprisingly, lacked any malice or jealousy, clearly not threatened in the least by Waterboy’s admiration.
“I am beginning to feel maternal towards him. He’s like a baby deer to me.” Coupé said. Her icon began moving towards the drug bust near the docks Robert had appointed her to investigate. “He reminds me of Shane Storenge from An Angel Descends Upon Us.”
“Oh! I remember you reading me a couple bits!” Punch-Up said excitedly. “I see it now that you mention it.”
“Is that one of your Romantasies?” Malevola asked.
“Yes. It follows a young woman falling in love with a young man, who is a very recently hired Cupid, he is very nervous and his journey consists of gaining confidence and becoming better at his job, and along the way he tries to find love for Mia, not knowing that the man she truly wants to fall in love with is him. The series has a pattern of subverting expectations, I wait excitedly for the next volume’s release.” Coupé said.
Robert took the time between calls to look over his new team member’s statistics. Phenomaman’s skills were, unsurprisingly, high in Combat, decently well-rounded elsewhere. Waterboy was… Shit at everything. Maybe Robert could work his training into some more specialty statistics.
The shift had been going… Decent. After all-too-many injuries from Waterboy’s involuntary slipping hazards, and Phenomaman’s depressive episodes after any mission failed, Robert worked everyone into a rhythm. Waterboy and Phenomaman were often teamed up, as Phenomaman’s feet were seldom on the ground, and his strengths helped cover Waterboy’s… All-around weaknesses.
“Hey- Sonar- Go with Blazer to get your flight license.” Robert instructed.
“Yep.” Sonar replied.
Ah, that too. He’d been unusually quiet all day so far, even the morning shift had been uncharacteristically silent. Half of the time, he was muted, and when he did speak, it was one-word answers. Robert couldn’t figure it out. Was he upset about something? Was he embarrassed about Saturday? Then it clicked. The Twitter posts. Robert had almost forgotten.
“You’ve had a whole lot of nothing to say to our dispatcher~” Prism teased.
There it was. The snide comments, the leading questions. It all clicked into place. The rest of the team knew. And they didn’t know that Robert knew. He stifled a laugh as he got to hacking into a woman’s bidet. Who the fuck trains their bidet into their smart house? Why even bother installing a smart house system? Sounded expensive. Whatever. He tuned back into the conversation the Z-Team had been having.
“I’d fuck with a pet store, if I had to pick a normie job.” Prism said thoughtfully.
“You hate pets.” Flambae scoffed.
“I hate pets with bad attitudes.” Prism insisted.
Malevola snorted. “What pets have good attitudes?”
“I’d be cool with something chill, like a snake.” Prism said.
“Phenomaman, where are you going? You’re supposed to be heading with Waterboy to the call at Fairview park.” Robert watched Phenomaman’s icon rush across the screen, in the opposite direction of the park.
“Apologies, I thought I saw Blonde Blazer in distress.” Phenomaman’s icon whipped a U-Turn and began moving the right way.
“Snakes are one of the more low-maintenance options, as far as temperament.” Coupé said.
“Speaking of pets, I have recently learned of the American Opossum.” Phenomaman piped up. “I find it fascinating how it carries its children on its back, much like a bus!”
“That’s not a fucking pet?” Prism said, her voice laced with confusion.
This seemed to, at last, pique Sonar’s interest.
“Oh man, I love those guys.”
“Fucking what? What are you even talking about.” Flambae grumbled.
“They’re chill. Only marsupials in North America, don’t get rabies, pretty clean as far as wild animals go.” Sonar said. “They could mog the shit out of Prism’s stupid snake, too, they’re immune to rattlesnake venom.”
“You’d know all about being a dirty wild animal.” Visi growled.
“Oh, fucking filthy.” Sonar cooed, clearly leaning into the less appropriate meaning, rather than the ‘messy’ definition. “But that’s not what you mean, is it? Instead you’re being a rancid bitch.” He switched his tone on a dime, a warning.
“Why do you know all of this, dude?” Malevola asked.
“Three words, Twitter. Dot. Com.” Sonar huffed proudly.
“Oh, we wanna talk about Twitter now?” Visi taunted.
“Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up, I hope you slip in one of Waterboy’s puddles and fucking die.” Sonar growled.
Waterboy sighed. “I- I’m sorry- It’s involunt- not- on purpose.”
“What’s wrong with Twitter?” Robert asked. Why not have a little fun with it?
“NOTHING- Nothing. It’s a great website. Willem Vanderstenk is talking about buying it from the current CEO, I think it’ll be a great business venture.” Sonar said.
“Didn’t his wife just ask for a divorce?” Prism asked.
“I know.” Sonar whined. “My portfolio is so fucked.”
“Means he’s on the market now though, you could swoop in, suck him off for real instead of all this bootlicking.” Flambae grumbled. It sounded like he was indulging in the vending machine during his rest period.
“Gross, mate, mute while you’re eating.” Malevola groaned.
“You’re a fucking genius, Flambae. I could save VAND-CO.”
“I doubt your head is good enough to turn a straight fella.” Punch-Up chuckled. His icon returned to SDN.
“I don’t know… What do you think, Robert?” Prism goaded. Ah, so this was the game.
“I think you should go check out this underground fighting ring with Coop.” Robert sighed.
“Robert Robertson, I believe the Wet Janitor and I require assistance.” Phenomaman’s help signal buzzed through Robert’s computer.
“What’s going on, Phenomaman?”
“We- Uhm- we’re surrounded by- uh- crowded-” Waterboy stammered.
“My fans have overrun the park we are working in while we are attempting to remove this ‘Mister Whiskers’ from the tree he is stuck in.” Phenomaman said.
“Ah.” Robert sighed. “Okay, um, which one of you is better with cats?” He regretted sending the two, but Waterboy had offered himself up, and he hadn’t had anyone else to send.
“Well- ah- My- My grandma has a lot of- many- um- nine- cats, but- they don’t really- they don’t like me.” Waterboy was clearly getting more and more nervous as the crowd shouted questions at Phenomaman.
“The Earth Felines seem rather fond of me. I have seen strays around the SDN building and they tend to make that terrifying grumbling noise. The Blonde Blazer informed me they do that when they are happy.” Phenomaman said apprehensively. Robert heard someone on Phenomaman’s side speaking, and then, “No, I do not want to talk about the Blonde Blazer, Mister Torrance Tribune. What does ‘the skinny’ mean?”
Robert remembered that asshole. Who the fuck calls information ‘the skinny’?
“Ignore him, Phenomaman. Just fly up to the tree, pick up Mister Whiskers, gently, and give him back to Mrs. Garmand, and then get out of there. Waterboy, can you try to hold them off?”
“Yes- Robert- Boss- Sir.”
Robert could faintly hear the disappointed reporters grumble as Waterboy tried to get them to back off. Overall, it was… Less catastrophic than it could have been. Robert watched the icons of the two begin to travel back to SDN. A call pinged in, A bakery’s ovens were down and they needed a boost. Robert had just the hero for the job.
“Ah- Motherfucker-” Flambae shouted, then an ‘injury’ update popped into his profile. “Wetbitchboy and his stupid fucking puddles.” He grunted.
“S-Sorry.” Waterboy tried.
“Shut the fuck up.” Flambae growled. Not ideal, but it was a start. Flambae’s icon continued moving.
“Be nice to him ‘Bae, he’s-” Prism stifled a giggle. “-jizzed to join us.”
Laughter roared through the comms at the reminder.
“Hey Rob.” Golem’s voice finally piped up. “Eyes over here?”
Robert’s eyes were drawn to Golem’s icon, stopped in its tracks on the way back from a call. He tapped into nearby security cameras, thankful there were a couple clients with outdoor cameras guarding their stores.
A huge pit sat in the middle of the street, and a car had apparently driven right into it. Robert knew exactly what had caused it.
“Phenomaman, can we start working on gentler takeoffs?” Robert groaned. “Golem, will you help haul that car out of the pit? I know you just got off a job, but it’d be nice to get this done before it becomes a bigger problem and calls start coming in.”
“Eyup.” Golem’s telltale rumble came through.
The rest of the shift continued as usual, with the occasional hiccup from Waterboy's puddles, or Phenomaman’s craters and tendency to get so depressed he wouldn’t move for several minutes after his break ended, if anyone failed a mission. Robert was hoping he could iron that one out.
It was chaotic enough with the new team additions that Sonar’s social media blunder managed to escape most of the team’s attention. There was the occasional snide comment, but Robert had the feeling it would have been much worse without the distraction. He wondered if Sonar himself had realized what a gift the new teammates really were in terms of saving his own skin, outside of just their help on the team. They would get better, today was just weird because it’s a big adjustment. He hoped.
— — —
Robert cleared his desk. Performance reviews for the day go in the drawer, pens into the penholder which then also goes in the drawer. The drawer is then locked. Robert had noticed that someone around the office had a bad pen-stealing habit. He couldn’t pin it on anyone, but had a growing suspicion that it was Invisigal. He wasn’t sure what she was doing with them, though he couldn’t exactly afford to keep buying new pens. He absentmindedly wondered if Galen would have any idea who the mastermind behind the ballpoint burglary was.
“Do you know who keeps stealing my pens?” Robert turned to Chase, who was similarly packing up his belongings for the day.
“No? You accusing me of something?” Chase’s eyes narrowed. He was joking, but there was still an air of offense, as if he was horrified at even the possibility of an accusation.
“No, Chase, my pens have just been going missing and I was wondering if you’d seen anything. Because you’re my cubicle neighbor.” Robert groaned. The humor still crept into his voice.
“No, haven’t seen anything. I’d ask Invisibitch though.” Chase wrinkled up his nose in disgust.
“You’d blame anything on her.” Robert sighed, but laughed. She had been the first to come to mind for him as well, he couldn’t exactly fault Chase.
“Damn right I would suspect theft of the fuckin’ thief, crazy leap, I’m fuckin’ sure.” Chase grumbled.
“Yeah yeah, just noticed it is all. Today was enough of a mess as is.” Robert sighed.
“Because you’re forcing them to work with the big moping bastard and wet baby bitch boy?” Chase asked.
“I was going to go with ‘because they’re getting used to working with actual good people who actually want to be heroes’.” Robert said.
“Yeah.. Let’s go with that one.” Chase laughed.
“Alright, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Robert chuckled.
Chase bid him farewell in return, though Robert couldn’t help but notice that Beef got a much more elaborate and emotional goodbye.
— — —
Leaving the building, Beef paused to sniff at the janitorial closet. Not unusual, the little guy always ran his little inspections, teetering around on stubby legs to ensure everything was in its place. Only, this time, something was out of place.
Beef nosed the door open, and grinned with his big, dumb tongue lolling out of his head when he found his prize. A very damp Waterboy, his long, lanky limbs bent awkwardly from his place, sunken into a 5-gallon bucket in the janitorial closet.
“You know you can go home, right?” Robert pushed the door further open.
“I- um- I just. I know.” Waterboy sighed. He took a bite of his cantaloupe. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he would be eating the melon arrangement for dinner. Robert felt a violent pang of pity. He’d been there, once.
“They- The Z-Team… They make fun of my- issue.” Waterboy stuttered.
“Here. Hold a Beef, it’ll help.” Robert picked up the dog and set him in Waterboy’s lap. Beef licked at the watered down melon juice on Waterboy’s face. He picked up a second bucket from beside Waterboy, flipped it upside down, and took a seat beside the other man on his makeshift-stool.
“I don’t think you have a stutter.” Robert continued.
“What-? You don’t- It’s happening right- currently.” Waterboy’s tone was laced with confusion, and perhaps a bit of concern.
“You expect failure.” Robert said. “I don’t think you have a stutter, just a confidence issue. You second-guess your words before you can finish a sentence. You’re afraid of how other people will see you, so you cut yourself off before they can.”
Waterboy’s sad, wet eyes widened, reminiscent of Beef’s reverent stare.
“I’m blowing your mind?” Robert guessed. “What are you so afraid of, with the Z-Team?”
Waterboy’s gaze shifted to the floor, thoughtful. “I- I don’t know, they… They call me useless, call me… I don’t know, stupid, think I suck.” He absentmindedly scratched behind Beef’s ears, just that right spot. His calm energy seemed to draw Beef in. Robert wondered if he knew he was good with animals, if he knew he had that natural calm energy that dogs love. He filed that away into remembering the information if dog-walking or pet shelter dispatches came in.
“All of that stuff already happened, though.” Robert pointed out. “You worrying about it didn’t change a thing. And look, they did it to Phenomaman too. It would have been worse if there weren’t two of you, but they were going to make fun of whoever the new guy was no matter what. So fuck them. Fuck me, fuck everybody.”
Waterboy’s eyes grew wide again.
“From now on, nobody else’s opinions matter. You deserve this chance just as much as they do.” Robert instructed.
The moment passed, Waterboy lost in thought.
“It smells very… chemical-y in here.” Robert scrunched up his nose, trying to fill the awkward silence. “You should go home, Waterboy.”
Waterboy nodded. “Yeah, I.. um.. I have to pick my grandma up from bingo soon, that’s why I'm still here. It’s.. uh.. I try to make sure she has some activities- some- um, autonomy.” He sighed.
Robert stood. “You’re a good kid. I hope you know that.”
Beef was let down by gentle arms, and followed Robert out happily. Happily enough, it seemed, that he wasn’t done with his rounds.
He nosed open another door, sniffing out a large, visibly deflated, Phenomaman, sitting in a too-small office chair in a filing room, face cast in partial light by the computer screen.
“Best Phenomaman and Blonde Blazer moments” the Youtube video was titled. The screen flickered as the video played Phenomaman setting a bus full of school children down on a rooftop, while Blazer took out the surrounding gunmen.
Robert approached, and Phenomaman paused the video on a close-up still of Blazer.
“Earlier that morning the Blonde Blazer and I had breakfast at the rim of an active volcano.” Phenomaman’s voice was deep, ragged. “Then we made love.” He seemed distraught, his usually pompous attitude seemingly dissipated. The arrogance had been completely replaced with a deep sorrow.
Robert grimaced. “I don’t need to hear your sex stories.”
Phenomaman turned to him. “We never had intercourse, my alien genitals were not compatible with hers.”
Robert tossed a stress ball up and down, Beef following it with his big, dumb eyes.
“Oh, cool.” Robert said absentmindedly. He regretted coming in to talk. He watched the ball, up, down, up, down.
Phenomaman shifted his body to face Robert. “Why is that cool?”
Shit. Okay, he was being a dick. “It’s… Not, sorry. What were you saying?” He pulled himself up onto the desk to take a seat.
Phenomaman turned back to the screen, sighing. He ran a hand over the paused video. “She was the only thing I was passionate about. Her voice, her eyes, her disposition… Her whole of her corporeal form.”
Robert winced. He reevaluated Phenomaman, taking into account prior experiences. Unlike he had first thought, this was not an arrogant, overconfident man. Phenomaman was an individual far from his home planet and culture, adapting to the intricacies of human interactions, and he had just lost the one tether he had to humanity. His tether which had been deeply codependent on his end, but that must have been hard.
“That… doesn’t sound healthy.” Robert said. “You should have more loves in the world.” Robert thought back to when he had first gotten Beef. He hadn’t loved much other than the dog and being Mecha Man, and the latter had a much more complicated love-hate relationship. Now? He loved Chase, and the routine of work, and the Z-team, kind of.
“So… More girlfriends?” Phenomaman tried, sounding unconvinced.
“No. Well, maybe? But love doesn't have to be a person, you just need to find the next thing you’re passionate about. That can be a lot of things. For me, one of those things is Beef. The dog. You should look into some hobbies.” Robert advised.
“Hobbies? My hobby is being a hero, I think.” Phenomaman mused.
“That’s your job, not a hobby. A hobby is something you do on the side, just for fun. Maybe you should look into getting a cat, I know you said you’re good with them. Making some friends. Learning some games.” Robert offered. Man, did he have any actual hobbies? Was he dishing out advice he didn’t have experience in?
“A cat…” Phenomaman murmured thoughtfully.
“You could ask Waterboy, I think he said he knows a lot about them. Maybe you could take home one of those strays.”
Phenomaman nodded. “I will ask the Wet Janitor for his input. Thank you, Robert Robertson, you have given me much to think about.” Phenomaman rose. “I wish to make love to you again.”
“Again-?” Robert was cut off by large, burly arms sweeping him off his feet into a tight hug.
“This time I will avoid squeezing the blood out of you.” Phenomaman said. How considerate. Robert wasn’t entirely sure he was trying that hard, given the air forced out of his lungs.
Robert gave Phenomaman a nod, wheezing when he was finally set down, and turned to leave. “No problem, man. I’m going to head home, see you tomorrow.”
Phenomaman returned his nod. As Robert left, he watched the alien switch tabs on the computer, typing “How to care for earth feline?” into the search bar.