Chuck and Meg stood on his back porch while she hosed the worst of the sludge off his body.

"What is this stuff?" Chuck asked. He ran a hand along his arm and came away with a palm full of stinking, tar-like ichor. Gagging, he threw it to the deck. It could've been his imagination, but he thought he saw the sludge eat into the wood. He shook his head.

I wouldn't be surprised if it leaves a stain, he thought.

Meg shrugged, which was a tall order, considering she held Chuck's garden hose in one hand and her shirt over her nose with the other. "Not totally sure. The computer told me it was plaque that gummed up my mana channels. Only, I've never heard of anything like that. Have you?"

Again, Chuck shook his head. He ran a hand along his other arm and tossed more sludge to the deck. "In books and movies, but never in real life. What do you mean when you say a computer told you about it?"

Meg raised an eyebrow. "When I took the pill, I appeared in what looked like a server room. Lots of humming fans and blinking lights. There was a central terminal that spoke to me. You saw it too, right?"

Chuck didn't think Meg would respond positively if he told her about the busty fairy. "Of course," he said quickly. "The magic computer. I thought of it more like an artificial intelligence than a computer, so I didn't know what you were talking about."

Meg seemed to buy the coverup. She rolled her eyes. "You and your mechanical semantics. I thought the whole thing was a trip until the pain and the sludge. Still, I didn't believe it until I started taking shots and couldn't miss. Except when I did."

She was talking about the Chef. Chuck saw the supervillain's creepy mask. He was still haunted by his deranged smile as he dug out that other man's eye with a spoon. "Do you think he took one of these pills as well?" he asked. He shivered, but not from the cold of the water against his chest. "Maybe he got super speed? And he's been practicing with it for longer than you, so his speed beat your aim?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe it's something like that, but..."

"But?"

"Turn around. I have to get your back." Chuck followed Meg's instructions and winced as the water hit his back.

But anything is better than the smell of that sludge, he thought.

"I don't know if they're connected," Meg continued. "I've been following all sorts of leads since I started this gig. Capture, interrogate, incapacitate, move on. One night, I thought I was pursuing that trafficking ring, but this felt different, somehow. For one, the house was in Murdock Farms--kind of a fancy neighborhood for the type of people I'm bringing down, right? I figured maybe I was breaking the case wide open, that this was the house of the head honcho. You know, the rich bad guy who is behind the whole ring. But the house was empty. And when I reflect on the guy I interrogated, he didn't look like anyone else from the Marizetti gang or any of the Chef's men. He was a weasely little fellow, ugly as sin, but well-dressed, whereas all the others were cargo short and t-shirt kind of guys. I assumed he was one of them, so I wasn't so specific with my question. In fact, I don't even think I asked him a question. I said, 'Tell me what I want to know, or you're done,' and he started sobbing. Blurted the address and told me I'd find the goods in the basement. That's when I found the pills and the note."

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"Hmm," Chuck said. "We can look into it. But you're right--this does sound like you stumbled into something else entirely." Despite the stench, his wheels were turning, and another thought occurred to him. "Can I see the note? Maybe it has more clues as to what's going on."

"Turn back this way," Meg said. Chuck followed her instructions, and she sprayed him in the face. Before he could protest, she said, "I don't have it anymore. But I can tell you what it said: 'Stitz--get this to the Right People. Superpowers for five of them. Consider our debt settled. -- Emily Wunder.' That was it."

Chuck nodded. "I wonder if this guy was Stitz," he said slowly. "And after all that, you thought the pills would be worth taking? And... eating?"

Meg shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a curious cat. They worked, didn't they?"

Chuck couldn't argue with that. "So we've got superpowers now," he said. The concept was still foreign. "That's... a lot to take in."

"Better get used to it. What did you choose, anyway? You got that big book. Can you read super quickly or something? That power would be very much you."

Chuck ignored her jab and quickly told her about his power.

"Huh," she said. "That's... interesting. We'll have to play around with it and see how it works. I wonder how long it'll take to get your powers up to speed." She turned off the hose. "Okay, I think you're good. Get in the shower and use as much soap as you can. We can talk when you're done--and I want to see your powers!"

Chuck had a million more questions, but he could still smell himself, and he wanted to learn more about his new powers as well. Still dripping, he slid open the door to the house. From his bed on the floor of the living room, Monster looked up as Chuck entered, a smile on his dopy face. Then his nostrils flared, and he issued a low moan. The poor dog lay his head against the ground and covered his snout with his paws.

"Sorry, boy," Chuck said. "I know I stink. Trying to take care of that as quickly as possible."

Chuck ran to the second-floor bathroom, where he kept his soaps, and took the most glorious shower of his life. He must've gone through half a bottle of liquid soap and shampoo before finally feeling human again. The hose had gotten off the worst of the sludge, but he still didn't feel right until he scrubbed himself with a handful of rags. And yet, when he pressed his nostrils to his skin and inhaled, he could still smell the rotten scent.

That's probably mental, he told himself. Ugh. I'm going to be smelling that for weeks.

Once he'd dried himself, he put on a fresh set of clothes and went downstairs, where he found Meg in the kitchen. She looked like she'd been making herself a sandwich because ingredients were spread across the counter: bread, lettuce, tomato, and deli meat. Monster lay on the floor in the middle of the room, playing dead. He was on his back, all four legs held straight up.

"Did you promise him roast beef or something?" Chuck said. Roast beef was Monster's favorite; he performed all kinds of tricks for roast beef.

Meg looked at him, and he suddenly noticed the worry in her eyes. "Chuck..." she whispered.

The bottom dropped from Chuck's stomach, and his eyes darted to Monster. Only now did Chuck notice he wasn't playing. "What happened?" he yelled. He ran to his dog and fell to his knees beside the body. as I ran to him. "Meg, what's going on? What did you do?"

It took Meg a moment to speak. "I was making a sandwich," she wailed. "I haven't eaten all day, and I thought about stopping for a bite on the way over here, but then I didn't, and I'm glad I didn't because then I heard you screaming, and I ran up to the treehouse and you'd taken the pill..."

She was rambling. "Meg!" Chuck yelled. "What happened?"

She swallowed. "I had the bag of those pills on the counter. Monster, he..."

She trailed off, but she didn't need to finish. Chuck knew what had happened: Monster, eager for his favorite treat, had gone on his hind legs to snag the roast beef off the counter. Only, he'd gotten more than the roast beef... he'd swallowed the pills.

"No," Chuck whispered. He put his hand on the dog's soft belly. How is this possible? he thought. My best friend has been poisoned!

Quickly, he looked for a phone. Was it too late to pump his stomach?

At that moment, Monster took a huge, shuddering breath. He rolled over, got to his feet, and sneezed, his big nose spraying snot everywhere. Chuck backed away from him, hand wiping at his face, and the boy and dog made eye contact.

"Uh, hi, Chuck," Monster said. His brown eyes were nervous and his voice was low and dopy, just like Chuck had always imagined. "Is everything okay? You're looking at me funny."