Sam was in the middle of a very important task—deciding whether it was worth picking up the granola bar he’d dropped under his bed—when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, hoping it was something mundane like a sale on ramen. Instead, it was a notification from the HeroForHire app.
“Your latest sidekick review is in! Click here to see your rating.”
Sam groaned, flopping back onto his bed. “Oh great. Let’s see how much Leaflord loved my enthusiasm for dirt.”
He tapped the notification, scrolling down to see the review. His eyes widened in disbelief.
“Rating: ★★★☆☆”
“Feedback: While Sapling completed the mission adequately, there was a disappointing lack of enthusiasm for greenery. His reluctance to embrace the sacred bond with plants was palpable. Could improve with proper inspiration. —Leaflord”
Sam sat up, staring at the screen like it had just insulted his mother. “Palpable? My reluctance was palpable? Dude, I was literally elbow-deep in weeds for you!”
The app helpfully chimed in with another notification:
“Friendly Reminder: Low ratings can affect your future mission opportunities!”
Sam flopped back onto the bed, glaring at the ceiling. “Unbelievable. I’m getting roasted by a guy who tried to blame a curb for his bad driving.”
He opened the app again, scrolling to the “Top-Rated Sidekicks” section. The profiles were aggressively cheerful, with glowing 5-star reviews and ridiculous achievements:
* Sidekick360: “Packed snacks for the team. Great energy!”
* MightyManny: “Rescued a kitten while defusing a bomb. Absolute legend!”
* LaserLass: “Distracted the villain with her laser pointer. Genius!”
“Snacks?” Sam muttered, throwing his phone onto the bed. “This guy’s handing out granola bars and getting 5 stars, and I’m over here getting dragged for my vibe.”
Another notification popped up:
“Sidekick Tip: Smile more! Heroes love positivity!”
Sam sat up, pointing at his phone like it could hear him. “Oh yeah? You know what else heroes love? Not being dropped on a sidewalk!”
Still, the app’s subtle bullying had worked. Sam couldn’t shake the thought that his 3-star review might tank his chances of better-paying gigs. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Fine. You want enthusiasm? I’ll give you enthusiasm.”
He just needed his next mission to go smoothly. How bad could it be?
----------------------------------------
Sam stood on the corner of Main and Pine, clutching his phone and trying to muster something resembling optimism. His next mission had just been assigned, and it didn’t sound promising. He read the details again, hoping it would magically make more sense the second time.
Mission: Retrieve stolen karaoke machine.
Hero: Captain Colossal.
Threat Level: Mild inconvenience.
The hero’s profile photo was even worse. Captain Colossal was a beanpole of a man, towering at an absurd height and wearing a spandex suit that left little to the imagination. His description read: “Height is might! Intimidate villains with unparalleled vertical dominance!”
Sam groaned. “My hero is a walking tape measure. Fantastic.”
Before he could spiral further, a shadow loomed over him. He looked up—and up—and up—to find Captain Colossal grinning down at him. The man was every bit as tall as advertised, his spandex glinting in the afternoon sun like an uncomfortable beacon.
“Sidekick, I presume?” Captain Colossal boomed, his voice unnervingly chipper.
“That’s me,” Sam said, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “What’s the plan, Cap? Are we saving the world, or just mildly annoying someone?”
“The mission is clear!” Captain Colossal announced, placing his hands on his hips in a heroic pose. “A fiend known as DJ Dissonance has stolen a karaoke machine from the local community center. We must recover it before he uses its power for chaos!”
Sam blinked. “Chaos? From a karaoke machine?”
Captain Colossal’s grin widened. “You underestimate the power of amplified mediocrity! Now, onward!”
The villain wasn’t exactly hiding. DJ Dissonance stood on the sidewalk a block away, wearing a leather jacket and holding the karaoke machine like it was the crown jewels. A microphone dangled from his hand, and he occasionally muttered something that sounded vaguely sinister, like, “The acoustics here are trash.”
Sam frowned. “That’s the villain? He looks like he just got kicked out of a high school battle of the bands.”
Captain Colossal squinted dramatically at DJ Dissonance. “Do not be fooled by his underwhelming appearance. He wields the power of sonic disruption.”
“Which means…?”
“He sings,” Captain Colossal whispered, as if it were a dark secret. “Badly.”
Before Sam could respond, DJ Dissonance spotted them. “Oh, look who it is,” the villain sneered. “The human skyscraper and his sidekick. You here to steal my spotlight?”
Captain Colossal stepped forward, raising a long finger. “Surrender the karaoke machine, Dissonance, and perhaps I’ll show mercy!”
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“Mercy?!” DJ Dissonance laughed, grabbing the microphone. “You’re about to get served, Colossal. Hit it!”
With that, he pressed a button on the machine and launched into an ear-splitting rendition of “My Heart Will Go On.” The feedback was so loud it made Sam wince, and Captain Colossal actually staggered backward, clutching his ears.
“This is what we’re up against?” Sam yelled over the cacophony. “Off-key Celine Dion?”
Captain Colossal gritted his teeth. “Do not underestimate him, Sidekick! His voice is a weapon!”
“I mean, yeah, it’s painful,” Sam muttered, looking around for a plan.
DJ Dissonance was too caught up in his performance to notice Sam creeping toward the machine. The villain was holding the microphone like it was a Grammy, his free hand gesturing dramatically as he belted out, “My heart will go oooonnnnnn—”
“Not today,” Sam muttered, reaching for the power cord.
Before he could yank it, Captain Colossal suddenly sprang into action. “Fear not, Sidekick—I shall counter his sonic assault with my own!”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Wait, no—”
But it was too late. Captain Colossal grabbed the second microphone from the machine and launched into his own rendition of “Living on a Prayer.”
The result was catastrophic. The two competing voices created an auditory disaster so bad that several nearby pigeons flew into windows. A car alarm went off in the distance. A toddler burst into tears.
Sam ducked behind a parked car, covering his ears. “This isn’t a battle! It’s a duet from hell!”
The chaos reached its peak when Captain Colossal hit a particularly high note, causing the karaoke machine to emit a horrifying screech. DJ Dissonance winced, dropping his microphone to cover his ears, and Sam seized his chance. He sprinted forward, yanked the power cord, and the machine fell silent.
The quiet was deafening. DJ Dissonance looked outraged, while Captain Colossal just looked confused.
“Hey!” the villain snapped. “You ruined my big finish!”
Sam crossed his arms, glaring at both of them. “Yeah, well, my ears are suing for damages. Now hand over the machine.”
DJ Dissonance sighed, tossing it to Sam with a grumble. “Fine. You’re all no fun anyway.”
Captain Colossal struck a victorious pose. “Another mission complete! Justice prevails!”
Sam stared at him. “You realize I did all the work, right?”
“Nonsense!” Captain Colossal said, clapping him on the back. “Your courage was inspiring, Sidekick. You’ll get there one day.”
Sam rolled his eyes, lugging the karaoke machine toward the community center. “Sure. Let’s just return this thing before my brain leaks out of my ears.”
Sam lugged the karaoke machine back toward the community center, his arms already protesting the effort. Captain Colossal strutted beside him, still humming “Living on a Prayer” like he hadn’t just subjected the world to the auditory equivalent of a dumpster fire.
“You know,” Sam said, huffing as he adjusted his grip, “for someone whose whole deal is being tall, you’d think you’d be the one carrying this thing.”
“Nay!” Captain Colossal boomed, puffing out his chest. “A hero must remain ever-ready for action. My hands are reserved for the swift deliverance of justice.”
Sam stopped dead in his tracks, glaring at him. “Your hands were just holding a microphone while you serenaded Celine Dion’s evil twin.”
Captain Colossal grinned. “Ah, but was it not inspiring?”
“It was something,” Sam muttered, hoisting the machine again. “Inspiring isn’t the word I’d use.”
As they approached the community center, a frazzled-looking woman with a clipboard hurried out to meet them. Her name tag read "Sharon: Community Outreach Coordinator,” and she had the energy of someone who had dealt with one too many PTA bake sales.
“Oh, thank goodness!” Sharon exclaimed, clapping her hands. “You found it!”
Sam handed her the karaoke machine with a grunt, relieved to finally set it down. “Yeah, DJ Discount over there wasn’t exactly hard to track.”
“Dissonance,” Captain Colossal corrected with a flourish. “And yes, we defeated him soundly! Another victory for truth and harmony!”
Sharon blinked at him, unimpressed. “Uh-huh. Well, thanks, I guess.”
Sam snorted, wiping his hands on his hoodie. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Please don’t mention it.”
Sharon rolled her eyes and hauled the machine back into the community center, muttering something about “weirdos in spandex.” Sam turned to Captain Colossal, ready to say goodbye, but the hero was already typing furiously on his phone.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked, dreading the answer.
“Submitting your review, of course!” Captain Colossal replied, grinning. “You performed admirably, Sidekick. Truly an acceptable showing.”
“‘Acceptable’?” Sam repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I carried the entire mission—literally.”
“Yes,” Captain Colossal said with a thoughtful nod. “Your ability to lift things is commendable. I shall mention that in the review.”
Sam groaned. “Oh, great. Can’t wait to see how that looks on my profile.”
By the time Sam got back to his dorm, his phone was already buzzing with another notification. He flopped onto his bed, mentally preparing himself for another passive-aggressive message from the HeroForHire app.
“Congratulations, Sidekick #4372! You’ve completed another mission. Review your rating below.”
He opened the app, half-expecting Captain Colossal’s review to be something like “Good at carrying things, could use more height.”
Instead, it was worse.
Rating: ★★★★☆
Feedback: A fine sidekick with potential. Could benefit from learning the heroic art of karaoke.”
Sam groaned, tossing his phone onto the bed. “This app is going to be the death of me.”
From the top bunk, Kyle poked his head down, holding a bag of chips. “Rough day, buddy?”
“You don’t even know,” Sam muttered, covering his face with a pillow. “My hero almost killed me with his singing, and now I’m being judged on my karaoke skills.”
Kyle blinked. “You don’t sing?”
“Not when my life depends on it,” Sam grumbled.
Kyle smirked, crunching a chip. “Maybe that’s your problem. You gotta lean into the chaos, man.”
Sam sat up, narrowing his eyes. “Lean into it? I’m already drowning in it.”
“Exactly,” Kyle said, tossing a chip at him. “Stop fighting it. Embrace the nonsense. Make it work for you.”
Sam caught the chip and stared at it like it held the secrets of the universe. As much as he hated to admit it, Kyle had a point. If this job was going to keep throwing ridiculous situations at him, he might as well start rolling with it.
Before he could reply, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen, and his stomach dropped.
“URGENT: Leaflord has requested your assistance for a Tier-3 Mission: The Battle of the Bonsai.”
Sam groaned, flopping back onto his bed. “Nope. Nope. Not doing it.”
“What’s a Tier-3 mission?” Kyle asked, leaning over the edge of the bunk.
“Knowing Leaflord? Probably a plant-based apocalypse,” Sam muttered.
Kyle grinned. “Sounds like a blast.”
Sam glared at him. “You take it, then.”
Before Kyle could respond, another message popped up on Sam’s phone:
“Accept mission within 10 minutes to avoid penalty to your account.”
Sam stared at the screen, torn between his pride and his paycheck. Finally, he let out a long sigh, tapping the Accept button with all the enthusiasm of someone agreeing to clean a public bathroom.
“Guess I’m battling bonsai trees now,” he said, dragging himself off the bed. “Pray for me.”
Kyle laughed, tossing him another chip. “Don’t forget to smile! Heroes love positivity.”
Sam caught the chip, grumbling as he grabbed his hoodie. “If Leaflord makes me hug another bush, I’m quitting.”
With that, he headed out the door, bracing himself for whatever chaos awaited. One thing was certain: being a sidekick was never boring.