The Incredible Danny Phantom

A Super Defeated

The next day, Bob was back at his tiny desk in his small cubicle at Insuricare. His intercom suddenly beeped. Bob hit the answer button.

"Mr. Huph would like to talk to you in his office," a voice said flatly.

"Now?" Bob asked.

"Now," the voice replied.

Bob rolled his eyes, got up, and walked from his windowless cubicle to Huph's office. He didn't notice the peculiar brunette who slipped into his cubicle as he left.

. . .

Huph's office was more spacious than Bob's cubicle but painfully tidy and joyless, like Huph himself.

"Sit down," Huph told Bob.

Bob took a seat as Huph stood up at his desk. That put Bob at about eye level with the little man.

"I am not happy, Bob," Huph announced. "Not happy. Ask me why, Bob."

Bob blinked slowly. "Okay . . . why?"

"Why what? Be specific, Bob," Huph said, crossing his arms and glaring at Bob.

Bob knew a visit to Huph's office always required patience. Suddenly, he noticed something going on outside Huph's window. A stocky man was suspiciously hanging around the back alley.

Keeping an eye on the guy in the alley, Bob answered, "Why are you unhappy?"

"Your customers make me unhappy, Bob."

"You've had complaints?" Bob asked.

"Complaints I can handle," Hugh answered. "What I can't handle is your customers' inexplicable knowledge of Insuricare's inner workings. They're experts. Experts, Bob! Exploiting every loophole, dodging every obstacle! They're penetrating the bureaucracy!"

"Did I do something illegal?" Bob asked him calmly.

"No," said Huph, irritated.

"Are you saying we shouldn't help our customers?"

Huph gritted his teeth. "The law requires that I answer no."

"We're supposed to help people," Bob said.

"We're supposed to help our people!" Huph exploded. "Starting with our stockholders."

"You know, Bob," Huph went on, taking a breath and composing himself, "a company is like-"

"An enormous clock," Bob said dully, finishing the sentence for him. Bob had heard Huph's "enormous clock" lecture before.

Huph droned on about cogs and wheels: ". . . cogs that fit, Bob. Cooperative cogs." But Bob's attention was on the thug outside the window, now mugging a citizen. Every muscle in Bob's body tensed for action.

"You know what I mean by cooperative cogs?" Huph asked, meshing his fingers together. "Bob? Bob! Look at me when I'm talking, Parr!"

"That man out there!" Bob said, his eyes on the victim. "He needs help. He's getting mugged."

"Well, let's hope we don't cover him!" Huph said coldly as Bob suddenly stood and bolted for the door.

"I'll be right back," Bob said.

"Stop right now, or I will fire you!" Huph threatened.

Bob hesitated. He thought about Helen and the kids. Huph narrowed his eyes, sensing he had the advantage. Confidently, Huph said, "Close the door."

Bob slowly released the doorknob he had crushed in his strong hand.

"Get over here, Bob," Huph told him.

Bob turned to face Huph. Through Huph's window, he could see the helpless crime victim lying on the street. The mugger had gotten away. Bob could feel his blood pressure rise. Suddenly, his enormous right hand clamped around Huph's scrawny neck. Huph let out a tiny squeak.

The office staff watched Huph crash through four walls before he slammed into a file cabinet, sending documents everywhere.

"Uh-oh," Bob mumbled.

. . .

"How is he?" Bob asked.

"He'll live," replied Rick Dicker.

"I'm fired. Aren't I?" asked Bob.

Rick Dicker, a government agent of the SRP, was a "tell it like it is" kind of guy, and he told Bob he was, indeed, fired. "We appreciate all you did in the old days," he said, "but from now on, Bob, you're on your own."

Bob nodded. He knew how complicated and expensive it was to relocate a Super once the Super had his cover blown. Rick had done it for Bob more than a few times.

Dicker was in the hospital elevator when he said, "Listen. Maybe I could relocate you, for old times' sake."

Bob smiled and shook his head. "I can't do that to my family again. We just got settled. I'll make it work. Thanks," he said and headed home.