Chapter 11: The Wonders of Sparksville
The morning sun was bright and warm as the Rustbucket rumbled down the highway.
"Na na na na na…" Ben, his face pressed flat against the window, was locked in a fierce face-pulling contest with a boy in the backseat of a car driving alongside them.
When it became clear the battle of contorted expressions was a stalemate, the other boy retreated, picked up a half-eaten hamburger, took a large bite, and chewed dramatically. Then, with a triumphant smirk, he stuck out his tongue, revealing the pulpy, half-masticated wad of food.
"Ew! Gross! Is that the seafood special?" Ben recoiled in mock disgust. "Alright, if you're gonna play dirty, then I'm bringing out the big guns!" He ducked down below the window.
A flash of green light illuminated the Rustbucket's interior.
"RAAAWR!" A moment later, Stinkfly's grotesque insectoid face slammed against the glass. He opened his mandibles wide, a glob of thick, yellow-green saliva dripping from his maw.
"Ah!" the boy yelped, scrambling back in his seat. His father, startled by the scream, glanced over. His eyes followed his son's terrified gaze and landed on the monstrous alien plastered to the window of the RV next to them.
"AHH!" The man jerked the wheel. The car swerved violently a few times before he stomped on the accelerator, rocketing ahead of the Rustbucket as if fleeing for his life.
"Ahahaha!" Stinkfly collapsed onto the floor of the Rustbucket, clutching his stomach and letting out a series of chittering, wheezing laughs.
"Dweeb! Are you messing with that watch again?" Gwen strode over from the back, preparing to take a seat on the sofa.
"No way! Having fun is what's important!" Stinkfly retorted, then aimed his mouth at the cushion where Gwen was about to sit. A stream of yellow-green goo shot out, but it froze in mid-air, enveloped in a shimmering purple aura. With a flick of Gwen's wrist, the glob of slime reversed course and flew straight back at its source.
Caught completely off guard, Stinkfly was splattered head-to-thorax with his own sticky concoction. Just as he was about to buzz in protest, a calm voice cut through the air.
"Ben, you really should think more carefully about how you use the Omnitrix," Klein remarked without looking up from his book.
"Alright, Cousin. I'll listen to you," Ben's voice replied, the transformation wearing off in a flash of red light. He held a deep respect for Klein, not least because Klein was the one who had given him the watch in the first place.
Seeing this, Gwen shot a triumphant smirk at her cousin. See? Klein always takes my side.
Just as Ben was about to say something else, the Rustbucket lurched to a sudden, screeching halt, sending him sliding across the floor.
"You guys, come quick and see… Oh! You're already here," Grandpa Max said, about to call them over, only to see Ben slide to a stop right beside him.
Up ahead, the highway was blocked by a nasty accident. A large truck had collided with two cars, its cab crumpled like a tin can. Flames were already licking up the side of the truck's trailer, and someone was still trapped inside. An explosion was imminent.
"Grandpa! I'm on it!" Ben didn't hesitate. In a flash of green, Stinkfly reappeared and shot out through the open window, his wings beating furiously as he flew toward the wreckage.
Though Gwen loved to bicker with her cousin, she never doubted his ability to handle a crisis. She remained in the RV, trusting him to do what was necessary.
As for Klein, he simply watched from the window. The primary reason he'd given Ben the Omnitrix was precisely for moments like this—so he wouldn't have to bother with these tiresome little emergencies himself.
…
With the driver rescued and the situation handled, the Rustbucket was soon back on its journey.
"You're going to love it," Gwen read aloud from a massive billboard they passed on the side of the road.
"C'mon, Grandpa! Please! Just give me a hint! What is it?" Ben pleaded, leaning against the driver's seat.
"Uh-uh. Sorry, Ben. I've been planning this surprise for the whole summer," Grandpa Max said with a cheerful but firm refusal.
…
"Welcome to Sparksville." Ben and Gwen stared at the faded, ridiculously simple sign at the park's entrance, reading the words aloud in a monotone, completely devoid of enthusiasm.
As they stepped inside, the trio felt a deep sense of being scammed. The park was practically deserted, a ghost town of peeling paint and silent, motionless rides. This was Grandpa Max's "big surprise," alright.
Despite the overwhelming disappointment radiating from the kids, Grandpa Max seemed genuinely thrilled. "Is there anything more fun in this world than Sparksville?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with nostalgia.
"Hello. Welcome to Sparksville," a man with the weary expression of a prison warden greeted them, his voice utterly flat. "I am the Warden here." His face made it clear that overseeing a place this desolate had long since crushed any joy from his soul.
"I know you're all eager to go in and have some fun," Grandpa Max said, blissfully unaware of the mood. He bought three tickets and handed them to the kids. "I'll go book us a spot for the night."
"Ugh, this is so lame! What are we even doing in this dump?" Ben grumbled, kicking at a loose rock.
Soon, the three found themselves standing before a ticket booth for some unknown attraction. "Welcome to Sparksville. Please show your tickets," a familiar, deadpan voice droned. It was the same Warden from the entrance.
"I thought… I thought you were the Warden," Ben said, pointing back and forth between the man in the booth and the distant park entrance where they had first seen him.
"Kid, I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of 'the more capable, the more work'," the Warden replied without a flicker of emotion as he tore their tickets. It was painfully obvious that one employee was more than enough for a park this rundown; in fact, he probably had too much free time on his hands.
They wandered through the park, trying to make their own fun amidst the bickering, but every attraction was more pathetic than the last. Finally, they came to one exhibit surrounded by an unusual number of warning signs.
"Please do not take photos of it."
"Please do not use any electronic devices near it."
"It's… a… giant rubber band ball?!!" Ben's flicker of hope, ignited by the ominous warnings, was instantly extinguished. He should have known better than to have any expectations.
"You can play as long as you like, but please follow the rules," the Warden stated, having seemingly materialized beside them.
"It's just a giant rubber band ball?!" Ben repeated, unable to accept the anticlimax.
"Please follow the rules," the Warden reminded him again, his voice a perfect monotone, before turning and walking away.
"Ugh! That's it! I've had enough of this!" Ben slapped the Omnitrix dial. A brilliant green light engulfed him.
"Four Arms!"
The towering, four-armed alien stomped forward and easily hefted the massive rubber band ball with two of his powerful hands.
"Dweeb, for once, I'm with you," Gwen said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. Four Arms returned the smile. He then tossed the ball toward her. It halted in mid-air, glowing with a familiar purple energy, before rocketing back toward him. But just as it reached the halfway point, the purple glow vanished.
Realizing their plan, Klein chuckled. "If you're going to play with a ball, a cat is obviously the best choice." He tapped his own watch, and a flash of bluish-purple light erupted. In his place stood a hulking, bipedal tiger creature with savage claws and a predatory grin.
"Tyrant Tiger!" the new alien roared. "Hey! Stupid Four Arms, you big muscle-head! Hurry up and toss that thing to your grandpa Tyrant Tiger!"
…
"Oh man, we're so busted!" the three of them groaned in unison.
After a few minutes of their chaotic "volleyball" game, Four Arms had tried to show off with a flashy spike. He miscalculated, and his immense strength sent the giant rubber band ball flying out of control.
It crashed through Sparksville like a wrecking ball. The sound of splintering wood and groaning metal filled the air as the few remaining amusement facilities collapsed and toppled in its wake.
Finally, the ball rolled to a stop in the middle of the park's main road. No one noticed the faint electric sparks that flickered almost invisibly across its tightly wound surface.
"I'll go get it back!" Four Arms shouted, realizing the trouble he'd caused. He started to run, but the Omnitrix chose that exact moment to be difficult. With a flash of red light, he shrank back into a very human, very panicked Ben. "Oh, come on! So annoying!"
Seeing this, Tyrant Tiger loped over to retrieve the ball. He gave one of the broken rides a half-hearted nudge with his claw, as if to see if it could be fixed. It couldn't.
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