The Fourtitude: A Narrative of Naivety

How the Tables are Turning

"Yes! Yes, it's working! Ahahahaha!" Dr. Bobl laughed maniacally at the security feed from the trampoline park. "They won't expect this!"

"August! Jackson! Come on!" The three literally busted the door down, and ran out to the trampolines to see what was happening. "Sir! Mr. DJ, what's going on?"

"I was just droppin' some sick beats, and then my turntable transformed into a giant robot and started shootin' lasers n' stuff!" The DJ stopped for a few seconds to catch them up, then bolted through the doors.

"Ho man. I'm gonna need your help, guys. Just lucky I gave you your gear." The three dashed to the floor, watching the turntable break trampolines and nets. Everyone else was gone, they were the only ones there. Naturally, the robot saw them as a threat. It targeted them. "GUYS! Watch out!" A laser zoomed past them, just barely missing them. The group got ready. Jackson on his hoverboard, August with his Aether-Blades, and Everhet his his hands of purple fire; Ryee.

Everhet shot flames toward the robot, stunning him momentarily. "What's this button do?" Jackson wordered. He pressed the button with his foot, and shot a missile toward the robot. "Holy Jitt!"

The robot almost fell over, sustaining major 'injuries,' but found proper balance to see August running to it at full speed. It reached out at August and smacked him, sending him flying into a trampoline. "Wait a minute," he thought out loud, "trampolines bounce... I'll bounce back... Aha!" As he was flying back at the robot, he put his blades in front of him, and sliced through the center of it, sending him tumbling into the back wall.

The robot started malfunctioning. Wires hanging out, whips of shock streaming from its empty center. It fell to the floor, and collapsed. "Amazing job, August!" Everhet applauded. "Nice quick thinking!"

"Yeah! Although, it would've been nice to have actually done something." Jackson unenthusiastically clapped, but only because it would be rude not to.

"You guys! What was that? That came out of nowhere!" Kylah had been watching through the window. "You guys were awesome! Especially August..." she stared at him cutely.

"...Yeah, that was totally my plan from the beginning, and I didn't forget that trampolines are bouncy." August closed his eyes to avoid contact.

"Holy Jane Alexander! That was mad!" the DJ came running into the building, not noticing the huge mess. "Y'all did a fine job sweepin' that thing off its feet! I'm Tony Tommy, the DJ here at Tramp-led. But y'all can call me TT, Tony T, whatever floats your boat!" he reached out for a fist bump. The three didn't know whether they should do it or not. "Aw, don't leave me hangin'!"

"U-uh... okay..." August fist-bumped him in return, aware of how awkward it was to be formally introduced with a fist bump. "Well, I'm August, that's Jackson and Everhet."

"Coolio! You guys some sort of... superhero team? Oh my God, am I standing in front of the next Rights Heroes?" The Rights Heroes were a team of three superheroes who fought for their peoples' rights. It's kind of self-explanatory.

"Well, not exactly..." Jackson noted, "We're not really... organized? This was our first fight, so..."

"Ya need a name? How about, 'Triangle?'" He held his left fist up above his head to make it seem more heroic. "Nah? Okay, what about, 'The Trash Trodden Trio?'" The three just blankly stared back, not exactly agreeing with Tony. "The Terrific Three? The Triumphant Trio? The Trio of Trouble? Les Trois Amis?"

"I like the sound of the Trio, maybe you could be just that?" Kylah chimed in.

"You know what, that's the best suggestion so far. Guys, I guess we're the Trio now. It's not all that creative a name, but screw it. Let's just go with it." Everhet started to pick up the scraps with his psychic, and putting them in a bag that never seemed to get any fuller.

This was a mysterious bag. August and Jackson had seen Everhet dump his trash into it before, and told them never to look inside it, and Heaven forbid go in it. It seemed like just an endless void used only for garbage. It's like social media.

"Hey, thanks for cleanin' up. I still have to cover for collateral damage, but--"

  "Hey hey, Tony, let me stop you right there. We're broke." Jackson leaned over to Tony.