Strange Squad

Chapter 4: Odd Otis

"You look awful," Olympia couldn't help but blurt out. 

Otis had been working tirelessly for an entire week to defeat the strangeness, and all together he didn't want to even think about how much sleep he was getting. 

"I'm fine," he urged, but he was slouched in his desk chair with his usual, neat hair a complete mess. 

His blue eyes were almost bloodshot because of how exhausted he really was. 

"Come on, Otis. Something's wrong. I can tell," she admitted as she leaned her palms against his desk. 

"I'm fine," he pressed, turning away from her as he rubbed his hands over his face. 

"No, you're not. What's happened to you, Otis," she wondered. 

"Nothing," he claimed simply. 

"Um, Otis...," she trailed off. 

"What is it, partner," he questioned as he spun back around. 

"I think you've got something on your arm. Is that glitter...," she asked. 

"No," he exclaimed defensively, hurriedly pulling his sleeve down to cover the golden tattoo. 

"Come on, you can tell me. Is that a part of one of your talents not worth mentioning, Mr. Grumpy pants," she asked in a joking manner. 

"No," shouted Otis, that time jumping up and walking away from her. 

Olympia sighed as she watched him storm out of there, him even leaving headquarters through the tubes. As he spun out of control, all he could focus on was how his thoughts were tumbling even more. He almost fell flat on his face as he tripped out of the entrance behind a mailbox, straightening his coat out as he rubbed his gloved hands together behind his back. 

"I can't keep doing this, but I also can't tell either...," he talked extra quietly to himself. 

He was studying the ground as he walked through the icy, crunchy snow. Just then he saw legs that were wearing a bright yellow suit before him, causing him to fall backwards onto his bottom as he slipped onto the slippery surface. 

"I've heard about you messing with my Strange Squad," Stephanie shared as she glared down at him. 

Otis stumbled as he pushed himself back up with his hand. 

"There's not even a trace of strangeness for Odd Squad to notice, or miss now," she commented. 

"Good," Otis reacted with a formal nod. 

"I underestimated you. You're not like the other agents," she confessed as her blue eyes glinted strangely. 

They were no longer that darkened brown. 

"Why are you even out here during the day? You only solve cases at night," he observed. 

"I have a coat on, so my outfit's covered up, and for the record, we only solve cases at night because we know that your night shift doesn't do anything. The villains might be too dumb to figure it out, but we're not," she boasted. 

"Hey," he exclaimed upsettingly. 

"Oh, I forgot. You're friends with one of them. Noise Maker, isn't it," she questioned. 

"That's not why I said, hey," he huffed, anger consuming him as he straightened out his coat again. 

"Then why did you," she asked as she crossed her arms. 

"Because all your squad can do is put other people down, whether they're a villain or an Odd Squad agent," he pointed out. 

"It's because we're the best," she claimed. 

"Yeah, you're the best alright. Odd Squad doesn't even know you exist. No one's even sure about what you do. Even normal people knew about Odd Todd causing oddness," he responded. 

"Yeah, well no one knew about your past either, did they," she shot back, hitting a nerve as Otis stared at her. 

He was no longer mad, but hurt over the words she had just said. She was an expert at piercing through his feelings. 

"That's not important. I've changed now. I'm no longer...," he failed to finish as the words got stuck in his throat. 

"Maybe that just further proves why Strange Squad is the best, Odd Otis," she shot back, hitting his shoulder with her own as she passed. 

"Hey! I do not like being called odd like Odd Todd," he yelled at her. 

"But you used to," she slyly replied. 

"No, I didn't. I never did," he said as his voice rose a couple of octaves. 

"Face it, Otis, you can't hide from your past forever. If I don't tell anyone about it, then someone else will," she promised. 

"But I thought you said no one else knew about me. That you were so much better," he recalled, saying the last part as he scrunched up his nose in disgust. 

"Look who's a boss, and who's just an agent now," she bitterly spat before walking off. 

Otis stood there puzzled as he watched her eventually vanish around a house at a corner of the street. When he turned around his mouth hung open in complete shock as he slid backwards again, this time hitting his back. He groaned in pain as the person offered a hand. 

"Odd Squad! I am so sorry! I was out for a jog, and I must not have been looking where I was going," the woman apologized. 

He took their hand as he mumbled in disbelief, "You're jogging in this weather?" 

She heard him though as she brightly reacted to his question. 

"Yeah, and it's all thanks to you. Before I had spaghetti legs I never realized how much I appreciated being able to move. Now I walk everywhere, or go on a morning jog," she modestly admitted. 

She had dark skin along with curly, light brown hair atop her head, and the finishing touch was the bright yellow, thick tracksuit she had on. That was what had actually made Otis fall, that color he had now come to fear almost as much as ducks. 

"Glad we could help," he nodded once as he brushed the flakes of ice and snow off his coat. 

"It was good to see you too, Odd Squad," the lady positively smiled. 

She was then moving her bent arms back and forth as she jogged up the street. Otis jumped slightly when all of a sudden Orchid was next to him, her face already appearing sassy. 

"I take back what I said before, Sherman. You don't even have regular hair," she said, calling him out for the time that she had complained about his too cool for school hair. 

He then had argued that it was just regular hair, but now she was taking that back too. It was obvious why, since his hair wasn't styled but flying in all different directions. 

"La la la la la la la," Orchid sang as she skipped off and swung her bent arms similar to the woman jogger. 

Otis looked at the ground as he knit his eyebrows together, realizing two things. Everyone except him was an expert at not falling on the ice, and also he really did need some sleep.