Sycamore Versus The Couch Potato

Sycamore looked down from the tower block upon which he was squatting at the weird scene that was taking place on the street far below; black and white police cars and blue uniformed officers surrounding the First National Bank as still as wax work dummies while the robbers who had just ransacked the banks large steel vault walked out holding bags stuffed with banknotes.

“Somethings not right”, said the hero, “Scratching his head through the cowl of his buff coloured skin tight costume, “Why aren’t those cops doing anything to stop those crooks? I better take a closer look”.

Whirling his heli-staff in his right hand it suddenly began spinning like a large propeller lifting the heli-powered hero up into the air then, pointing the staff in the direction of where the bank robbers were astonishingly loading their stolen loot into the back of a police car, he swooped downwards towards them.

“Ha!Ha!”, said the leader of the crooks, a strange potato shaped creature covered in moving eyes and carrying what looked like a remote control in its right hand, “The police can’t do anything to stop us, not now I’ve freeze framed them with my universal remote”.

His propeller staff slowing its rotation, Sycamore came gently to rest behind the strange multi-eyed villain.

“What the heck is going on here”, asked Sycamore, bewildered,“What have you done to those policemen and what…what are you?”.

The potato like creature, seeing sycamore with the eyes covering its back, turned round to look at him with the eyes on its front and grinned broadly,

“You may call me Couch Potato”, said the creature, “And I know who you are; Sycamore, the heli-powered hero or should I say Brent Spinner, ex- U.S. Navy helicopter pilot who, after a mysterious encounter with a U.F.O over the Bermuda Triangle ‘caused him to have a near fatal helicopter crash, woke up with a cybernetic body and advanced telekinetic abilities one of which was the ability to spin his heli-staff so fast that he became a human helicopter”..

“What?”, asked Sycamore, so stunned that his mouth fell open, “How do you know all that?”.

“Oh, I know about almost everyone in your world, Mr Spinner”, said the creature, chuckling, “You see I belong to a race of creatures from the 5^th dimension that watch your dimension like a…what would you say?... a video recording. Your lives are our entertainment; your wars our war movies; your crimes our cop shows; even your romances, our love stories. Only I decided that I was sick of just watching; I wanted to become part of the story”.

“You mean you’re doing all of this just for fun”, asked Sycamore, astonished, “But this isn’t a game, those policemen aren’t your toys”.

The potato headed creature rolled all of its eyes simultaneously and yawned,

“Are you going to make a speech?”, it said, “I hate it when characters do that, it’s so boring”.

The Couch Potato pointed his strange remote control at Sycamore and pressed one of its buttons and, suddenly, like a video recording being rewound, the hero started to do everything he had just done but in reverse, whirling his heli-staff again and flying back up to the top of the tower block upon which he had been squatting earlier.

“What? What just happened?”, he asked, dazed, looking around and realizing where he was, “It’s like time just went backwards”.

But then he saw the strange potato headed creature point his remote at his two henchmen who were still loading bags of money into the back of the police car and saw them suddenly speed up like a video recording that had been put on fast forward.

“Get a move on, will you”, he heard the creature say, “I haven’t got all day”.

“That remote control”, thought Sycamore, whirling his heli-staff again and rising back up into the air, “I have to destroy that thing”.

Tilting his whole body forwards so that his staff pulled him forwards like an aeroplane propeller, Sycamore swooped downwards again towards the potato headed criminal.

The creature looked up at him with all of its eyes.

“Not you again”, it said, pointing the remote control towards him, “Well let’s see how well you fly when I freeze frame you”.

Just then, however, Sycamore snatched hold of one of the small throwing propellers that he normally kept strapped to the torso of his costume, hurling it towards the remote control.

Whirring through the air, the throwing propeller sliced through the remote control, like a circular saw in a saw mill, cutting it in half before, turning round like an obedient falcon, it returned to and was caught by Sycamores left hand.

“My remote control”, sobbed the creature, weeping from all of its eyes, “What have you done? You’ve broken it”.

Sycamore landed in front of the creature,

“You’re lucky I don’t make you into french fries”, said Sycamore, angrily.

But then, suddenly, the policemen that had been frozen like statues started to move again.

“Hey! What?”, said one, a plain clothes detective with a bullhorn in one hand, “What’s going on here?”.

The couch potato glared at Sycamore with all of its eyes,

“Drat”, said the creature, “You’ve ruined my story but there’ll be a sequel, believe me and it will have a very different ending”.

The creature turned a dial upon its belt buckle then, in front of it, Sycamore saw a cloud of grey static and wavy lines appear and then, suddenly, it was gone.

“Perhaps you can explain to me just what that was all about”, asked the Police detective with the bullhorn, turning towards Sycamore, “And what was that thing with all those eyes?”.

“That’s what happens when you watch too much TV, detective”, said Sycamore, smiling; whirling his heli-staff and rising back up into the air, “Take my advice and read a book instead”.