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by the Hornet Queen and would need triple the amount of anti-venom to reverse the effects. PJ nodded his head, signaling that he understood Mr. Garman's request, and proceeded to load the injured driver into the ambulance. They took off fast, rushing the unfortunate soul to the hospital. “Boy, I hope he can be cured,” muttered Mr. Garman underneath his panicked breath. Turning his head to his right, Mr. Garman noticed that Officer Seitz and Officer Thurston were already investigating the inside of the car. Running over to examine the damage with them, Mr. Garman could see where the stinger from the Hornet Queen punctured through the roof of the car, which in turn, punched a hole through the driver’s seat. It appeared as though only a small hole went through the driver’s seat, so perhaps the driver only got a small dose of the poison. Mr. Garman crossed his fingers, sure hoping that this was the case. Glancing closer at the felt-covered driver’s seat, he noticed a slimy green substance that coated the area of the fabric puncture. As the officers preoccupied themselves by taking pictures and searching the car, Mr. Garman pulled a glass vial out of his pocket and collected a sample of the mysterious green slime, stuffing it in his pocket, hopefully unnoticed by those around him. He hastily proceeded to return to his car and drove through the accident scene, headed to Morgan’s lab.

Mr. Garman sprinted  into the lab, but Morgan was nowhere to be found. He yelled for Morgan, but there was no answer, just silence. Then again, he cried out, “MORGAN! Morgan, where are you?”

Hesitantly, Morgan crawled out from under the side table closest to his desk. “Oh, Mr. Garman!” he exclaimed. “ I am so glad to see you. The Hornet Queen was here, trying with all of her strength to get into the building. I hid under here, out of the view of the window. I guess that special glass held her out like you said it would.” Morgan was trembling with fear as he spoke, and Mr. Garman could not help but feel sorry for the young scientist.

“Morgan,” Mr. Garman said, relief flushing through his tone. “I am so glad you are OK. That was good thinking, hiding underneath the side table. I thought you said  she was not due to come back until Friday?”

Nodding his head up and down frantically, Morgan confirmed. “The Queen and I agreed it would be Friday at dusk. I heard the buzzing sound and hid immediately. I was terrified, Mr. Garman. I have to say, I am so glad to see you.” Hands still trembling from the recent events, Morgan changed the subject. “Please tell me you found the cane with that gemstone meteorite?”

A look of disappointment washed across Mr. Garman’s face. “Well, I am sorry to report, but Myles did not have Bat’s cane. He said it was buried with him in the Big Apple.” Morgan gasped, “The Big Apple? You mean New York? Like the New York?”

Mr. Garman nodded his head “Yes, New York City, New York. In the Bronx. Well, at least that is what Myles thinks. Anywho, he asked for 24 hours to think about exhuming Bat to shave a piece of that gemstone of the cane.” Mr. Garman peered at the floor, still disappointed that he was unable to deliver the most essential tool to the plan. “Morgan,” he continued, “we better come up with a plan B. Have you ordered all of the supplies yet?” Sighing, Morgan replied, “Yes, and a few things extra that were not on the list.” Pausing, to allow his stomach rumble to speak, Morgan continued, “Let’s order lunch from the Winking Lizard, that way we can start work on plan B.” Pulling up a chair, Morgan waved his hand and commanded,  “Mr. Garman, please, sit here on this stool next to me. I want to show you what I have completed prior to the revised formulation.” The old scientist walked across the room and sat down next to his younger pal. “Morgan, do tell me what I am looking at here. Are you sure you are up to it after that scare?” Morgan replied quite confidently, “Yes, I can do this, Mr. Garman. This is all my fault and thus my responsibility. I… well, we will fix this.” Mr. Garman put his arm around Morgan’s shoulder and donned his most proud and friendly tone, “That’s right, son. Let’s get busy until lunch arrives. We still need to put an order in. How do you feel about some hamburgers and fries with a drink of Coke?” Morgan gave the nod of approval and away they went into the afternoon.

6

Evolving Plan

Buzz, buzz, buzz. Mr. Garman felt his cell phone dancing in his pocket. “Hello, this is Philip Garman.” A familiar voice came through from the other end of the phone. “Hello, Mr. Garman. This is Myles.” Caught off guard, but excited to hear the news, Mr. Garman exclaimed, “Oh, great to hear from you! Have you made your decision?” Myles replied, “In fact, I have. I will agree to exhume Bat. However, I must be there, as well as the medical examiner and the police.” Clearing his throat, he continued on, “I will also need a gemstone cutting expert to be there to shave a piece off for you and for me. If these demands are met, then we shall proceed.” Almost instantly, Mr. Garman replied in agreement. Myles, glad to hear that his proposal was agreed upon, proceeded to add a slight twist to things, or at least Mr. Garman thought it was. Myles stated, “I will need the exhumation to happen Thursday morning.” A slight pause came from Mr. Garman’s end of the phone. “Well, then, I will see you in the morning at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx,” said Mr. Garman. The pair hung up the phone and Mr. Garman turned to Morgan. “Well,” he grumbled, “It appears we have a

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