Chapter Text
The city of Townsville, where summer is coming to a close, and with it comes the beginning of a new school year for the children. New classes, new friends, new homework, new missed days because of monster attacks… What else is new?
And with this small step closer to growing up, it also means leaving some things behind. For the Powerpuff Girls, that means starting 1st grade without their beloved kindergarten teacher, Ms. Keane…
The Powerpuff Girls stood anxiously outside Ms. Keane’s house during golden hour on the last day of summer, the sun’s rays a warm curtain falling over the neighborhood. Ms. Keane’s cat, Valentino, slept curled in a ball on the porch.
Blossom held the handle of a wagon stacked with a tower of apples. Mostly the red kind, with a few green ones sprinkled in there to add some spice. As Ms. Keane opened the door, she immediately hid her reticence about the apples behind a wide grin, as if she knew before even opening the door what the Girls were giving her, but didn’t want to disappoint them by snubbing the gift.
“Why, thank you, girls,” Ms. Keane greeted. “What brings you here?”
Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup each postured like they were going about serious superhero business, standing poised. The look in their eyes betrayed them, however, especially Bubbles.
“We just wanted to show you how grateful we are for everything you’ve taught us,” began Blossom, motioning at the apples.
“And that we’re really gonna miss you,” added Bubbles, her voice trembling.
“Cause you can’t start teaching first graders, I guess,” finished Buttercup under her breath. One of the apples on the top of the pile tumbled, threatening to send the whole thing crashing onto the pavement. Buttercup reset the stack in a flash.
Ms. Keane wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Well, you’re going to have many teachers in your life, and hopefully each of them will bring something new to the table for you to learn. Do you understand?” The Girls hung their heads and nodded. “But, if you ever need my help with anything, I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you, Ms. Keane!” the Girls cried out. In higher spirits, the three took turns shaking Ms. Keane’s hand.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” said Bubbles. “We made you a shrinky-dink, too.” She handed Ms. Keane a keychain with charms made from shrink plastic depicting Valentino and various school supplies.
“That’s absolutely adorable, I love it!” Ms. Keane gently placed the keychain in her pocket. “So, do you know who your new teacher’s going to be?”
“Mr. Papernyy,” answered Blossom.
The name gave Ms. Keane pause. There was only one Papernyy she’d ever known about in her whole life. “Would that happen to be Kevin Papernyy, the cartoonist who came to Career Day?”
“Yup,” said Buttercup.
The poor children, Ms. Keane thought. When she had first introduced Papernyy to the children on that Career Day where Professor Utonium demonstrated his time machine, she was excited. She believed the kids would be so thrilled to hear a little bit about how cartoons are made. But then Papernyy started to talk. And talk. And talk.
Ms. Keane had to almost literally drag him away from the front of the classroom after Papernyy’s lecture quickly devolved into complaining about how older cartoons are better than the newer ones, and that any kid wanting to work in the cartooning or animation business should just give up unless “they had the guts to take down the system.” Whatever that meant. The class was left more distressed by Papernyy’s presence than they had been when Mojo Jojo hijacked the Professor’s demonstration earlier that very day.
Not to mention, something strange happened after she nudged Papernyy away. As Ms. Keane was walking back to the front, she slipped and fell because of a slick trail of paint on the floor. She could have sworn it wasn’t there before. Ms. Keane asked Buttercup if she had used her super-speed to do it, but Buttercup denied it, and she believed her. She just had to clean it up, pretend it didn’t happen, and keep going. Could Papernyy have been responsible somehow?
Now Ms. Keane truly understood the Girls’ reluctance to start the new year. But what could she do about it?
“I guess he changed careers,” Ms. Keane sighed. “Let’s hope he takes this new job more seriously… or, I should say, less seriously.”
In the meantime, she was going to have to ask her mother and a few of her neighbors if they wanted to take some of the apples.
The next day, at Pokey Oaks Elementary School…
As the kids of Mr. Papernyy’s class entered the room for the first time, they were surrounded by posters covering every available inch of the walls. These were not the kind every other teacher in the school had, with jokes at least fifteen years too old to be funny anymore or stately photographs of government buildings with words like “Integrity” across the bottom. Every single one of them was the official poster of a cartoon.
A mixture of classics most of the children would recognize versus obscure titles none of them had ever heard of before. All at least twenty years old. Regardless if they recognized these shows, movies, and shorts or not, each kid was drawn to the bright colors decorating the walls.
Mr. Papernyy sat at his desk, his own attention focused on a paper he was scratching away at with a pen. Somewhere in his forties, the platonic ideal of a hipster, he wore a beard, a red flannel shirt, and thick-rimmed glasses. Blossom peered over his desk; he was just doodling.
The PPGs noted that at the very least, Mr. Papernyy had installed a Powerpuff Hotline next to his desk. They greeted their peers who had also been in Ms. Keane’s class, such as Robin Snyder, Harry Pitt, Julie Bean, Mary, Elmer, and others.
“Hey, it’s that nerd from Career Day,” Mitch Mitchelson whispered to Buttercup.
“Ugh, I know!” said Buttercup. “This year’s gonna stink!”
“Let’s give Mr. Papernyy a chance,” Blossom reprimanded gently.
Bubbles pointed upward at one poster. “I didn’t know there was a Harmony Bunny cartoon, I gotta find it!”
Once everyone arrived, Mr. Papernyy stood up. “Alright, just to get it out of the way, some of you might remember me from Career Day at Pokey Oaks Kindergarten, and you’re probably wondering why I’m not doing cartooning right now.” His voice had a nasal quality, a strange mixture of monotonous and passionate. “I’m not gonna get into it too much right now, but times are tough for us artists. My webcomic wasn’t enough to support me anymore. Have any of you heard of it? Zoe Trope? The slice-of-life comedy about two friends talking about cartoons and comics on their couch all day?”
The silence was painful. None of the children knew what he was talking about. They weren’t sure whether to go along with him or not. “It was pretty popular for a bit in the 2000’s,” Mr. Papernyy said defensively, “but I guess that was before your time.” He very quickly changed the subject, “Anyway, I’ve got a great lineup of subjects for you all this year. English, Math, Science, History, etc. each have a great edutainment cartoon from the 90’s that’ll teach you everything you’ll need to know. I bet they’ve all aged great! And for Art, I’ll be showing you personally how to make your own comics and cartoons.”
For a few seconds, the class considered what Mr. Papernyy was telling them.
“You mean… we get to watch cartoons all year?” asked Mitch.
“The good ones, but yes,” replied Mr. Papernyy.
A chorus of cheers rang through the room loud enough to echo down the outside hall. Even Bubbles and Buttercup joined in, the latter’s doubts forgotten about. Blossom alone showed hesitation,
“Um, is he allowed to do that?” she asked, but her concerns were drowned out.
The rest of the morning was taken up by Mr. Papernyy having the kids draw a picture and write a short biography about themselves to present to everyone. After lunch and recess, Mr. Papernyy walked the class through making a simple cut-out puppet figure. Despite Blossom’s skepticism at Mr. Papernyy’s qualifications, she went along with the activities all the same. Bubbles and Buttercup were enjoying themselves.
The school bell rang, and the kids prepared to leave. Mr. Papernyy called out to the PPGs,
“Girls, I want you three to stay after class so I can talk to you about something. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.” The PPGs hovered over towards Mr. Papernyy’s desk. He looked at them with a gleam in his eye and a self-satisfied smirk showing through his beard. “I’ve been following your superhero careers with great interest. The three of you have such an iconic look that no other superhero has.”
“So true!” Bubbles giggled.
“You know what I like most about you? You’re girls who save the day, but you don’t shove that “girl power” stuff down everybody’s throats. I feel bad for kids your age, I really do. Cartoons these days are all about selling toys, mass market appeal, and sticking with I.P. just like how it was in the 80’s. But I think you guys should have your very own cartoon! You’ve got more heart in one of those stubby appendages of yours than all these new shows and movies do combined!”
Mr. Papernyy lifted a piece of paper and showed the PPGs a pen drawing he had made of them beating up a monster. Bubbles and Buttercup held the paper together, impressed by the likeness. “You can keep it,” said Mr. Papernyy.
“Having a cartoon made about us would be pretty cool,” Buttercup mused. “That means you’re really famous!”
“We were gonna have a movie made about us,” recalled Blossom, “but the director turned out to be a flim-flam.”
“It’s so hard to get anything made at all these days, especially in the way you want it to turn out, isn’t it?” Mr. Papernyy agreed. “A guy can dream, though.”
Suddenly, the Hotline rang. Blossom picked up the phone, “What’s wrong, Mayor? Downtown? We’re on our way!” She turned back to Mr. Papernyy, “We’ve gotta go now. Mojo, HIM, and Fuzzy are controlling a monster into attacking Townsville!”
Mr. Papernyy’s whole posture changed in an instant; he stood up straight and lifted a theatrical finger into the air. One could almost see the light-bulb appearing over his head. “Wait, let me go with you,” he said quickly. “I want to see you all in action!”
“But you might get hurt,” Bubbles pointed out.
“I can take care of myself. Besides, I have a surprise I want to show you when we’re there.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Papernyy,” Blossom tried to tell him delicately, “but it’s really not a good idea to -”
“Take me to the fight or you’re all in detention tomorrow!” Mr. Papernyy slammed his hands on the table. His face turned as red as his flannel.
Without another word, the Powerpuff Girls pick up the cantankerous ex-cartoonist and fly off into the heart of Townsville.
A dark shape flew over downtown Townsville. It was a giant stingray-like monster that could fly as if the air itself were water. Its pectoral fins undulated in the wind. As it went on its course, the monster would occasionally whip its barbed tail, which was sharp enough to slice through buildings like butter.
Mojo and Fuzzy stood on the monster’s back in harness contraptions attached to the monster, while HIM stood alongside them needing no support. Mojo controlled all the monster’s movements with reigns. A headband with a blinking light was wrapped around his helmet.
“With this frequency-manipulating device, I, Mojo Jojo, shall bring any living thing that stands in my way to its knees and rule over sky, soil, and sea!” Mojo cackled.
“Mojo, would ya quit zig-zaggin’ that durn thing around so quick?” Fuzzy was holding onto his harness for dear life, his normally peach face now a shade of green. “Yer fixin to make me sick!”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked to come along with me simply because you were bored,” retorted Mojo, “forcing me to create a second harness at the last minute, delaying my plan for another day, just to bring you along as a freeloader.” HIM, who also tagged along with Mojo just to watch him work, openly laughed at the other two villains as they continued to argue.
They stopped once they noticed the Powerpuff Girls on the horizon.
“Who’s that feller they’re carryin’?” asked Fuzzy.
“Just a poor little civilian they’re helping, I’m sure,” said HIM.
The PPGs set Mr. Papernyy down by one of the many, many shelters placed around town, the monster still a distance away. All around them, panicked townies searched for safety. The PPGs ignored Mr. Papernyy’s shouting as they continued without him.
The three stopped in front of the monster just as it was preparing to swing its tail once more.
“Not so fast, Mojo!” called Blossom.
“Fuzzy!” added Bubbles.
“HIM!” finished Buttercup. “You’ve only got three-fourths of a Beat-Alls reunion, we can take you!”
“Oh, Fuzzy and I aren’t part of this,” HIM explained. “We’re just admiring the view of all this destruction.”
Blossom snapped back, “Soon, you’re gonna admire the view from prison!”
Just as the PPGs were closing the distance between themselves and the monster, Mojo and Fuzzy put headphones over their ears. Mojo turned a dial on his headband. A low-frequency rumble imperceptible to humans reverberated through the air.
The PPGs slowed to a complete stop. They clutched their heads. A needle-sharp pain tore through their insides in waves. In that moment, it took all of their concentration to keep from falling down.
“Yes, yes!” Mojo pumped his fist in the air. “Even super-powered beings with such strong constitutions as you Powerpuffs, who can resist almost everything that is thrown at you due to Chemical X, are not impervious to sonic weaponry!” He led the monster to continue onward. The PPGs were swatted by one of its fins like they were nothing more than pesky mosquitoes, and they rocketed into the road below, creating Powerpuff-shaped holes.
Buttercup was the first to crawl out. Blossom and Bubbles followed shortly. They rubbed their heads, impatiently waiting for the worst of their head-and-stomachaches to pass.
A now-familiar voice asked them, “Need a little help?” Mr. Papernyy had somehow made his way to the street where the monster once loomed above within a short amount of time, not even enough time to use the subway. In his hands, he held a black staff as tall as himself; it was a large dip pen with an imposingly sharp nib at the top.
Before the PPGs could ask Mr. Papernyy why he was carrying that thing around, he ran off in the direction of the monster. He quickly caught up with the villains despite the monster’s speed; the way he covered so much ground so quickly reminded the PPGs of a puppet being yanked along by the strings. The PPGs stared at Mr. Papernyy in wonder.
At first, Mojo, Fuzzy, and HIM didn’t notice the tiny, insignificant human below them. It wasn’t until Mr. Papernyy whistled as loudly as he could that Mojo finally turned the monster around to take a look at him.
Mr. Papernyy brought aloft his mighty dip pen and cried out, “Underlight!”
A tiny ball of hot, white light emerged from the nib. It exploded into a brilliant column that completely enveloped the monster and the villains. Although the PPGs were not in the ray’s direct path, they drew back from it and covered their eyes.
The light only lasted for a few seconds. As soon as it disappeared, the monster let out a deeply pained groan that shook the surrounding buildings. Fuzzy and Mojo thrashed about in their harnesses, groping uselessly around themselves to find stability.
“I can’t see nothin! Git yer bright lights outta my eyes!”
“Curses! You have rendered us and the monster without sight! Which is to say you have blinded us! It is truly ironic that I used a sound-based device for this scheme, while you used our capacity for sight against us!”
“Shut yer mouth Mojo, you ain’t helpin’ none!”
HIM, meanwhile, wasn’t affected by the light. He floated off of the monster and regarded Mojo and Fuzzy with bemusement.
In his panic, Mojo dropped the reigns and couldn’t find them again. The monster moved once more, only now it wobbled along uncertainly, navigating the open space of the street by memory.
Mr. Papernyy tried to spin his pen staff in front of the PPGs like a baton, but his fingers slipped and it fell onto the road with a pathetic clang. He slapped his hands against his face. The PPGs moved on.
Blossom ignored her left-over migraine and ordered Bubbles and Buttercup, “Come on, we’ve got to put this thing somewhere else before it can do any more damage!”
“How about the beach across from Monster Island?” Buttercup suggested.
The PPGs nodded at each other. They soared under the shadow of the monster until they could spread out across its underside and place their arms against it.
At first, the blind creature gave a surprised shriek, snapping itself further upward to get away from whatever it couldn’t see touching it. Shortly after, it seemed to realize that the PPGs meant it no harm, so it dropped back into their arms and went limp. Buttercup left Blossom and Bubbles to continue holding the monster while she went back down momentarily to pick up Mr. Papernyy.
The PPGs made their way to the beach, two screaming villains, one laughing demon, and one odd teacher in tow.
Although the new school year had just started for many, the beach was teeming with children and parents squeezing in one more visit. Blue skies as far as the eye could see. Once the crowd saw the PPGs holding a fifty-foot long stingray-beast above them, many politely picked up their umbrellas, chairs, coolers, etc. and skittered off further down the shoreline like ants after their hill is discovered by something much bigger than them.
Blossom and Bubbles gently set the monster down on the tidewater, and Buttercup placed Mr. Papernyy nearby. The fight had completely gone out of Mojo and Fuzzy, who tried massaging the skin around their eyes. HIM continued to observe everything so quietly the PPGs almost forgot he was even there.
Bubbles ripped the headband from Mojo’s helmet, crushing it into a fine powder. The last of the tension in the monster’s body left, looking finally relaxed as far as the PPGs could tell. Once Bubbles tossed Mojo, Fuzzy, and their harnesses onto the shore, she patted the monster on the head,
“There you go, you’re free. I hope you’re gonna be okay…”
Mr. Papernyy crossed his arms and looked down on the defeated villains triumphantly. “The blindness is temporary, they’ll get their sight back in a few minutes.”
“Great,” said Fuzzy, “now come a little closer so’s I can strangle ya.”
Mojo looked at HIM – or rather, tried to look in HIM’s general direction – “Well, aren’t you going to help us, no longer standing around uselessly, now that Fuzzy and myself have been defeated, my plan foiled not by the Powerpuff Girls this time, but by some random guy?”
“Nope!” In the blink of an eye HIM, now dressed in a swimsuit, lay in a chair that came out of nowhere and drank a sangria. “I think I’ll just get a suntan instead.”
“Hey!” Buttercup yelled. “Don’t think you’re off the hook cause you were just hanging out with Mojo and Fuzzy, we’ll get to you too in a minute!”
Mojo groaned and flopped with his arms stretched on the sand.
Mr. Papernyy leaned closer to the villains. He studied them intently. A childlike curiosity in his eyes. “Wow. I gotta admit, I’ve always admired villains like you, too, in a way. The outfits, the voices, the personalities… the political incorrectness! They really don’t make villains like you guys anymore. You know, fun stereotypes.”
Mojo snapped upright. “Political incorrectness? Stereotypes?” he asked in his pseudo-Japanese accent. “What is it that is incorrect about me in a political way? How is it that I display stereotypical behaviors? Would you please elaborate, expand further, explain exactly what it is you mean by your statement which you have just expressed?”
“Golly, I don’t git none of that neither, I ain’t got no types o’ stereos to play music with.” Fuzzy drawled.
HIM smirked and shrugged. “Well, I am what my creator has made me.”
As Blossom listened to Mr. Papernyy speak to the villains, the malaise she felt in his vicinity grew. Something unpleasant radiated off of him like a bad odor that Blossom wasn’t experienced in life enough yet to put into words. She exchanged glances with Bubbles and Buttercup, who both seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
Still, Mr. Papernyy did stop Mojo and Fuzzy after the PPGs had been halted for the moment. The three probably could have pushed through the pain enough to keep going if he hadn’t arrived when he did, but Blossom couldn’t say for sure. She felt obligated to at least show her gratitude,
“Thank you, Mr. Papernyy!” she interrupted him before he could continue his conversation with the villains. “You really helped us out back there.”
“Yeah, that was really cool!” Buttercup chimed in. “What else can you do?”
“And where did you get your powers?” Bubbles asked with awe.
Mr. Papernyy turned his full attention back to the PPGs, looking as if he had been waiting his entire life for someone to ask him those questions.
He proceeded to launch into an extensive monologue, “It all started over twenty years ago when I took an animation course at art school. When I went, cel animation was gradually being phased out for digital painting, but they still taught the process. (Here, Mr. Papernyy goes on a ten minute-long tangent to explain to the children what cel animation is, which has been removed out of respect for the audience’s time). One night, I was staying late at the workshop to work on my thesis short (Here, Mr. Papernyy goes into detail about the story of his thesis short for another five minutes), with all the tools around me, the ink and paint materials and the photography equipment all close to each other.
There was a terrible thunderstorm going on right outside, but I was so focused on my short that I didn’t even notice it! Then, it happened… “Kablam!” A huuuuuuuge bolt of lightning tore right into the building where I was working! I was knocked into a coma from that, but after I woke up, I realized I had changed. A lot.”
Mr. Papernyy spun around in circles, resembling a smear. He stopped, his flannel and jeans replaced with a jumpsuit and cape that had a white base accented by multi-colored diamond shapes throughout. Instead of glasses, he now wore goggles with red and blue lenses.
The PPGs wore an expression that could only be described as “confused surprise”. Mr. Papernyy realized they didn’t understand that he had designed his outfit to evoke color swatches on white paper, but to the unsophisticated eyes of the PPGs, he just looked like a quilt-based superhero.
Determined to not ruin the moment, Mr. Papernyy continued, “Anyway, I found out that I was more ink, paint, plastic, and a little bit of machine now than man. From then on, I knew I wanted to do something with these powers. I gave my alter ego the name… Supercel.
Finally, I could do what I’ve always wanted, which was to have my very own animated show to run. Finally, I could make something better than all the drivel coming out after the 90’s, a truly artist-lead series. Producers would surely think my powers would make for a great cartoon to base on! At least, that’s what I thought. I tried pitching my idea around to multiple studios, but they all turned me down. They told me my powers are too niche! That they’re not as interesting as all the other superheroes who get their own cartoons!
Those idiot suits wouldn’t know good quality animation if it walked up and knocked their teeth out. So I gave up and went back to making comics. But then, years later, you girls came along.”
At some point while Mr. Papernyy was talking, the monster slunk into the ocean without them noticing, presumably out of boredom. Mojo, Fuzzy, and HIM continued to listen as the former two’s vision started to return.
“That feller’s still flappin his gums, he makes ya look quiet as a mouse,” Fuzzy whispered to Mojo.
“I’m growing tired of this,” Mojo sighed. “I just want to go back to my lair, kick my feet up, rest, relax, and go back to making plans for world domination.”
HIM waved his claw and the three silently disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke.
Completely unaware of this, Mr. Papernyy went on, “If I had you girls by my side, the studios would surely agree to greenlight a pilot, and then a show!” He put his hands together in a pleading gesture. “You’re all so marketable, they’d be stupid to turn us down! And because we’re superheroes, we’ll be the ones in charge of the whole operation. We can make it exactly how we want and blaze a trail for all aspiring creatives who come after us… so, what do you say?”
The PPGs spent a few minutes thinking about it. They already had their answer, the question was how to word their response without offending their teacher.
Blossom felt she might as well be honest, but let him down gently. “Well, Mr. Papernyy, you seem to think that all new cartoons are bad, but…” she paused. “There’s plenty of good ones out there, all over the world, but I get the feeling you’re not looking for them. Maybe you’re right that there are problems with the system, I wouldn’t know, but I think you should be more open-minded about things. That’s just my opinion, though!”
“I like cartoons a lot,” Bubbles added. “But that’s all you ever talk about. I’m a little worried about you! I thought at first that watching cartoons in school all day would be fun, but it would just get boring.”
Buttercup, as always, spoke more bluntly, “And you just wanna use your superpowers to get a cartoon made about you? You don’t wanna help people? Maybe the reason nobody wants to make a cartoon with you is cause you’re rude!”
Mr. Papernyy stood dumbfounded. “So what you’re saying is you don’t want to work with me?”
The PPGs shook their heads.
Mr. Papernyy turned his back to them. He made a strange wheezing noise that the PPGs eventually realized was the sound of humorless laughter. “Fine. Alright. You do you, Powerpuffs! Believe whatever you want. If you consume garbage, wallow in garbage, and praise garbage, eventually you’re going to turn into garbage…”
He summoned the dip pen staff out of his palms. “You think I’m a bad guy? I’ll be the bad guy if that’s what it takes to bring some class back to cartoons!” The Powerpuff Girls tensed up. “It’s time for the Supercel project to go back to the drawing board. Villains are always more fun than heroes, anyway.”
Supercel charged up his Underlight move; the PPGs had guessed he would turn it against them and were able to cover their eyes right before the light burst over them. A few seconds later, Supercel ended the attack. The nib of his staff morphed into brush bristles. Supercel swung the staff like a baseball bat, and out launched a giant glob of red paint that divided into three smaller, viscous orbs roughly the size of the PPGs.
The Girls flew away in different directions, but the paint continued to hound them like homing missiles.
Blossom led one of the soaring spheres out to sea, where she dived into the water. The paint quickly shrunk in size as it kept following her until it completely dispersed. Blossom emerged soaking wet but no worse for wear.
Bubbles flew around in circles in a panic until she had an idea. She closed her eyes and burrowed into the sand. The paint squeezed into the hole Bubbles left behind, but got caught in the grains of sand surrounding it, leaving it immobile. Bubbles came out covered head to toe in sand. She joined Blossom out over the water to rapidly wash off.
Buttercup decided not to outrun the sphere. She turned around, drew back her fist, and punched the orb. The force of the exploding paint around her hit like a high-pressure water hose, sending Buttercup careening through the air until she could regain her balance. She had become entirely crimson. Hating the sensation of paint all over her body, Buttercup also washed herself off in the sea.
As the PPGs returned to shore, Supercel waited for them with a smug expression the Girls couldn’t wait to wipe off. “You think one of me is bad enough?” he taunted. “How about three more Xerox copies of me?” Three clones jumped out from Supercel’s body which were identical to the original save for being completely white with black outlines.
The Xerox copies leapt forward and unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks. Their blows barely affected the Girls, who returned each hit with ease, but it was enough of a distraction for Supercel to run off at his enhanced speed, heading for the unsuspecting citizens further down the beach.
“He’s getting away!” Blossom called out. “Let’s get rid of these chumps quick!” She took a deep breath and froze the first copy in ice, which she smashed, breaking the copy into pieces.
Bubbles threw the second Xerox out into the ocean, where it collapsed into itself and sank.
Buttercup took the third copy by the head and yanked, tearing it in half with a loud rip.
The PPGs caught up to Supercel quickly, but by the time they reached him, he had already found a hostage to grab onto.
“Girls!” cried the Talking Dog. “Save me from this crazy clown!”
“I am not dressed up like a clown!” Supercel screamed. “It’s supposed to represent a color swatch sheet, you uncultured plebeian!” He held the head of his staff against the Dog. “One more step or the pup gets it!”
Bubbles grit her teeth. “You wouldn’t dare…”
The PPGs and Supercel stared each other down. The townies scrambled to get away from them, many leaving behind their things.
Blossom thought back to what Supercel said about himself earlier: “I was more ink, paint, plastic, and a little bit of machine now than man.” Plastic… That cel animation stuff Supercel loved so much and was now made of was done on plastic sheets… Yesterday, before the PPGs went to Ms. Keane’s house, they made the keychain by shrinking plastic sheets in a baking oven.
“Girls, remember how we made the shrinky-dink charms the other day?”
Buttercup stared at Blossom like she’d lost her mind. “Yeah, but what the heck does that have to do with anything?”
“This might be a stretch, but watch.” Blossom shot her eye-beams over Supercel’s shoulders; he ducked, but he was still close enough to the heat that he shrank a few inches. Supercel, however, didn’t notice.
“For having such big bug eyes, your vision sure stinks!”
“Hey, you could’ve hit me,” the Talking Dog complained.
Bubbles and Buttercup glanced at Blossom in surprise. Then, they knew what to do.
Each of the PPGs took turns shooting eye-beams all around Supercel, circling him and making sure the heat was getting near enough to every part of his body.
“I don’t know what it is you think you’re doing, but that’s enough!” Supercel raised his staff and began manifesting a stream of ink which curled around himself. The staff was once his exact height, but now it was two heads taller, and the difference between them grew by the second. “Wh-what’s happening to me?” He lost his grip on the Talking Dog, who leapt from his arms and landed safely back onto the beach.
The more Supercel shrank, the more difficulty he had holding onto the staff. Once he became as small as the PPGs themselves, it became too heavy for him and he dropped it. Bubbles snatched it immediately, which made the gathering ink retreat back into the staff.
“No!” Supercel cried. “You can’t do this to me! All I wanted was to make a good cartoon, is that such a crime?” His voice grew higher inversely to his size.
When Supercel finally stopped shrinking, he only reached just above the PPG’s knees. He tried summoning and throwing tiny balls of paint against the Girls, but it hurt them about as much as raindrops.
Blossom picked up a left-behind pail and placed Supercel inside. The sisters looked down at him and giggled.
“Aw, he looks like a little toy,” said Bubbles.
“Yeah, the lamest toy ever!” added Buttercup.
Supercel collapsed onto his rear and rolled his eyes.
“What?” Blossom asked. “Got nothing else to say, Kevin?”
Supercel petulantly shook his head.
The Girls take Supercel, or should I say Mr. Papernyy, to the slammer…
In jail, the PPGs observed Mr. Papernyy in his cell, which was behind a plexiglass encasing so he couldn’t use his newly decreased size to walk through any bars. Ms. Keane had arrived some time before to give her statement to the police, as had the principal of Pokey Oaks Elementary.
“You do realize this means war, don’t you?” Mr. Papernyy, still in his supervillain outfit, shouted. “While I’m here, I’m gonna write essays about cartoons so brilliant it’ll inspire the masses!” Nobody acknowledged him because his voice had become so high-pitched it was incomprehensible.
“How on earth did that man get a teaching certificate?” Ms. Keane asked the principal.
“We were really short on staff!” the principal put up her hands defensively. “And now we’ll need to find a new first-grade teacher immediately. There’s no way I can fit all the students into the other classes.”
The PPGs looked at each other with glee. They stood at Ms. Keane’s side.
“We have a suggestion…” the Girls said simultaneously.
Well, Kevin, after you go through plastic surgery to get back to your normal size, how about you go draw yourself a better personality?
And so, once again, the day is saved… thanks to… the Powerpuff Girls!