Nuklear Age by Brian Clevinger Read Free Book Online Page A

that included hefty tips. She led them to their table. The trio followed with Angus in a moody third.
    They took a booth, Atomik Lad sat next to the window, Nuklear Man next to him, and Angus across from them. Rachel gave them each a glass of water, silverware wrapped up in napkins, and menus. She took a deep breath to begin her spiel, “Today's Special is—”
    Nuklear Man exploded with excitement, “The Special!” he exclaimed. “Three specials! And make it quick, you’ve got two—”
    “Awkch- hem !” Angus phlegmed in an altogether more pissed off fashion than before.
    “Er. Three of Metroville’s most treasured overheroes.”
    “Of course,” Rachel took up the menus and went back to the kitchen to report the order.
    Atomik Lad stared out the window dreamily. He watched people dressed in ordinary clothes attend to their ordinary business. Nuklear Man toyed with his complimentary glass of water. He delighted himself with the activity of boiling and cooling the liquid at will with his Plazma Power. Angus growled like a feral beast mere moments from jumping on a trespasser. The guttural thunder was so loud even Nuklear Man became aware of it.
    “What's wrong, Scotsman?”
    “Ah can’t reach the table!” Angus stretched his stubby arms and waved them uselessly before the tabletop.
    “What if you stand?” the Hero suggested.
    “AH AM STANDIN’!” the Scotsman bellowed.
    Nuklear Man fumbled an apology. Angus huffed moodily and slammed back in his seat. Atomik Lad could only see the top of Angus’s helmet peaking out from behind the table. He couldn’t help but crack a smile that Angus thankfully could not see.
    __________
     
    The manager made his rounds. This mostly involved smiling at customers, making small talk, and avoiding eye contact with the costumed weirdoes and their small friend. Finally, he checked the register. Glancing up from his duties, he noticed something was amiss with the small chalkboard that announced the daily specials to patrons the moment they walked in the door.
    “Rachel,” he called.
    She trotted to him, smiling all the while her waitress smile that borders on sincerity, “Yes, Mr. Manager?”
    “This is yesterday’s special.”
    “Oh gosh! I completely forgot about it when those three landed outside,” she pointed to the trio of overheroes. “I thought that little one was going to smash right through the front window,” she added.
    “Yes, well just get the special right. Tuesdays are Lobster Days, only fifteen dollars a plate.”
    “Yessir.”
    __________
     
    With eagle-like Nuklear Vision, Nuklear Man discerned their waitress from across the vast restaurant, “Ah-ha!” he announced while pointing dramatically. “I believe she's carrying five—NO.” He counted on his fingers to be absolutely certain, “Three plates.” He paused for a moment, “Atomik Lad! Take a head count.”
    Through a miracle of the gods, Atomik Lad resisted answering with “Two.” “Still just the three of us, Nuke.” Even so, Angus was sure to look as though had Atomik Lad answered “Two” he would have severely regretted it. Atomik Lad had to chuckle.
    “Just as I thought,” Nuklear Man said to himself. “Gentlemen, I think she may be carrying our order,” he said with an air of militaristic authority.
    “Nuke, we're the only people on this side of the restaurant.”
    “Never assume, Sparky. Else you, uh...sticks and two in a bush...make stones out of you and me?” his thought trailed off to No Brain’s Land.
    Luckily, at that moment, Rachel arrived with the three steaming plates of lobster. She set them down, one in front of each Hero, “Is there anything else I can get you, gentlemen?”
    “Ah mee mblm,” Angus grumbled.
    “Excuse me, sir?”
    “Ah mee mblm,” he repeated.
    “I'm sorry sir, but I—”
    “Ah bloody said Ah needs a child’s seat!” he roared as he jumped up and down hysterically.
    Rachel stumbled back a step. Her face went pale from shock. She