#or try ascending instead of descending to flip your ao3 search

[neon-danger]

Kinda redundant but have you read any good Jalex lately? I’ve been looking everywhere but I’m at that point of scraping the bottom of the barrel and re reading stories I’ve already read

I’ve been on a sterek kick actually so I got nothin

[aleinnilatibae]

Atop the Billboard, chapter 2

(chapter 1 here, AO3 link here)

In which Robbie gets stuck on the billboard again, and also some Distress happens.

                Robbie was rudely awakened the next afternoon by a loud BANG!  Momentarily disoriented by the sound, he sat straight up. “What? Buh? Huh?” he garbled, looking left, right, left. He blinked a few times, and rubbed his eyes.  "That is the sound of a rubber ball hitting a shed wall,“ he observed blearily. Oh, that’s right. He was in the shed, in his fuzzy orange sleeping bag.

                "Now why did I come out here?” He asked himself, and that triggered his memory. Eggs. Stink. Billboard. Sportacus saving him…

                Sportacus TALKING to him.  He couldn’t even REMEMBER the last time they had just had a normal conversation, like the one last night.  Usually he was too embarrassed to stick around after he was unmasked,  and it’s not like they were on speaking terms generally.  They were hero and villain, and they stuck to their roles most of the time.

                Didn’t stop Robbie from having a crush on him, though.

                “Yuck,” he gagged.  He felt a little sick whenever he was forced to acknowledge that. It was embarrassing! He was the VILLAIN. And yet…every time Sportacus was nice to him, he felt a twinge in his midsection.   But nobody EVER had to know about THAT. He had those feelings locked RIGHT up.

                Except talking to him last night, had really…STIRRED up those feelings, making it feel like he had restless bees swarming around in his midsection. So he had to admit…

                “It was uh, nice…to talk,” he mused. “But oh, how humiliating to be carried down the ladder like a baby!” He moaned, kicking off the sleeping bag with some difficulty, and then kicking it into a corner of the shed. “Whatever. Good thing that’s over,” he smiled, and wiped his hands of imaginary dust.  “I’m definitely not going back up THERE again.”

---

                “I….” Robbie sighed deeply, steepling his fingers together. “I set a…battery powered robot loose.”

                Sportacus sat down next to him on the sign. “You what?”

                “Well I HAD a battery powered vaccuum,” Robbie held up one hand,  “And I had a few spare kits from the Metal Monster Jaws company,” he held up the other, “now tell me WHAT was I SUPPOSED to do but COMBINE THEM??” Robbie smashed his hands together haphazardly, which was a not inaccurate demonstration of the process.  He let his hands fall to his lap. 

                “I don’t know, Robbie.  I guess that is the only logical next step, ” Sportacus said, eyes sparkling with mirth. Was Sportacus LAUGHING at his SUFFERING??

                “It has FOUR SETS of gnashing teeth! I got scared!” Robbie said defensively.  "I’m waiting til it runs out of battery!“ He gulped, and hugged himself. "Even though I REALLY do not like it up here.”

                “At least the moon is nice,” Sportacus said.

                “Yes, yes it is,” Robbie said, fixing his eyes on that instead of the 22 foot drop below.  With that, he felt a little more relaxed.

                “If you are in a situation that really frightens you, sometimes it is better to focus on what’s good about it, rather than the fear, ” Sportacus said.

                Robbie gasped.  Tricked! Into panicking less!

                “You…REALLY take this hero thing VERY seriously, don’t you?” Robbie said, looking at Sportacus now. “Even helping ME, the VILLAIN.”

                Sportacus just smiled and nodded. “Everybody needs help.”

                “But this could be your chance to get one-up on me! Get revenge for all of my schemes!” He dimly thought that maybe he shouldn’t give him any IDEAS, but…Sportacus never DID any DEFEATING! It was so confusing! He would save everyone from a scheme gone haywire but…he let Robbie get off scot-free every time.

                 "Robbie, I’m everyone’s hero!“ he declared, holding his arms out as if presenting himself. "Including you,” he said, clapping him hard on the back.

                Too hard–Robbie could feel himself slipping.

                “HELP!” he screamed, as his behind lost traction with the sign.  He felt the sick, lurching feeling of gravity acting on the pit of his stomach, and worse-complete and total helplessness.  He could only squeeze his eyes shut as he plummeted toward his own demise, then-

                -he stopped.  A strong arm had caught his own, suspending him awkwardly like a rag doll.  He chanced one eye open, then the other. He was alive! He looked up to see Sportacus, breathing heavily, the other arm hooked around a ladder rung. “I got you,” he was mumbling. “I got you."  He pulled him up with a single bicep curl to standing position on the sign. 

                "I am so, so sorry,” he said, still holding his arm for stability. “I almost killed you.”

                Robbie’s vision was swimming, he felt woozy from the aftermath of the sheer terror he had just experienced. 

                “Just-please-get me down,” he managed.

                “Hold onto me,” Sportacus offered, pointing to his back.  Robbie uh…“climbed aboard,” and they descended the ladder, a trembling Robbie clinging tightly to him like a koala, face buried in his neck so he didn’t have to look at the ground.

At least he doesn’t SMELL like fruit,  Robbie thought dimly.

“We’re here,” Sportacus said gently, and only then did Robbie let go and find his wobbly feet on blessedly solid ground. 

“Again, I’m so sorry to have put you in danger,” Sportacus said, looking…sad? Upset? Robbie didn’t really care at the moment, but it was different than usual.  “You sure you’re okay?”

Robbie’s mouth was dry, heart beating HARD in his chest, he swallowed with great difficulty.

“I’m fine,” he panted.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, now go away,” he said, shooing him off.

Sportacus hesitated, then climbed back up the ladder–but not without a backward glance or two.

Once the ladder had ascended too, Robbie sat right on the ground, his panicked breaths rushing free now that he was alone.  He spent some time trying to hyperventilate a little bit slower, get the oxygen to stay in his brain so he could process what happened instead of reliving the feelings over and over.  That was his absolute worst nightmare, being pushed off the sign.  And it had happened.  Thankfully he was ALIVE, due to Sportacus’ fast reflexes, but it was also due to Sportacus that he fell off in the first place!

“God damn it!” he swore, getting up to pace. “How am I supposed to FEEL about this??”

He stopped as an idea struck him. “Maybe…maybe I’ll hate Sportacus for real this time?” he asked himself, tapping his chin with a finger in thought.  "No, no, that didn’t work. I still…“ he couldn’t say it out loud.  He did feel upset! Because of the horrifying thing that just happened! But it killed neither him nor his crush on that blue kangaroo!

"One thing is for certain,” he growled, “I am NEVER.  EVER climbing that thing again.”

 ---

The  first thing he did when he woke up the next day, was make a decision.

“I am going to STAY. DOWN. HERE,” he announced to no one,  "Where I don’t have to SEE anyone or TALK TO anyone or…DO ANYTHING!“ he yelled.

"And nobody can stop me,” he said, satisfied.  He leaned back in his chair and intended on sleeping again.

But, his stomach chose that exact moment to cramp, painfully. He popped his eyes open and grabbed at it, looking down.  How long had it been since he had a good meal? How long had it been since he had gone to the STORE?

He looked to the ceiling, and counted back the days in his head.

Both of those things had been since…before the Egg Incident.

“Is that REALLY how long it’s been since I’ve been to the store?” he gasped. “Time flies when you’re evil, I guess…and eating cake mix for every meal,” he said, looking down as his stomach made more angry noises. “Ohh,” he gasped, “An omelet sounds SO GOOD right about now.  Maybe, I can sneak to the grocery store and buy some more eggs!" 

                His lip curled. "I really don’t feel like going up there today though. I REALLY don’t."   He was still feeling the aftermath of his brush with death from the night previous, and he would love to just…sit down and ignore the world for a while.  But, his stomach decided that was the right moment to give him a sickening hunger pang that almost made him double over. That was a bad sign. "It looks like YOU’RE not giving me any CHOICE,” he told it. He sighed deeply. He knew what had to be done.

                “Well,” he said, laboriously standing up, “If anything WEIRD happens today, I’m blaming YOU.”

                He froze.  “I’m talking to my STOMACH,” he realized, grimacing. “I really DO need some food.”

                Rising up into the bright sunlight was just another onslaught to his senses.  Ohh, he was THIS close to becoming completely overwhelmed,  the hunger and the irritability were putting him on thin ice. He took a deep breath, and put on his best villain stride, furrowing his brows.  Maybe nobody would bother him if he looked angry enough.

                His strategy worked well for almost the whole way to the grocery store. Probably because he didn’t see anyone. When he rounded the strange, standalone section of wall that honestly had no purpose, (seriously why was it there?) there was the grocery store! He was so close! But there was also a VERY LOUD soccer game going on that he would HAVE to pass to get there.  He looked at the store and the game, back and forth, back and forth, calculating. Was it worth it?  “I must do it,” he said, steeling himself.  His stomach growled in agreement.  So he furrowed his eyebrows a little more, and strode on.

                He was JUST passing the soccer game when heard from behind him what sounded like someone stomping. Or-or jumping, with both feet-

                “Oh no,” he said to himself. He turned around to see Sportacus flipping right toward him.  Caught like a deer in the headlights, he searched for a place to hide…

                “Robbie!” he called.  Fear gripped his heart. Too late!

                His next course of action was to ignore him and continue on, a plan which Sportacus ruined by doing a double backflip DIRECTLY OVER HIS HEAD and landing right in front of him.

                Robbie stiffened and stopped in his tracks, letting out a little “eep!”

                “H-how are you, Robbie?” Sportacus asked.

                PLEASE. NOT. NOW. “Don’t talk to me, Sportaflop. I’m only up here because I need food. NOT to play with the little brats,” he gestured at the soccer game.

                Sportacus nervously fidgeted. “There is something I need to say to you.”

                “Whatever it IS, I’m SURE it can wait until TOMORROW,” Robbie said, irritably.  He needed to get out of there, and FAST. Every sound from that godforsaken game was POUNDING in his ears. He winced as the Pink One started to scream and cheer. Nope. Time to go. He started walking away.

                “No, Robbie,” Sportacus said, catching his arm.

                RED ALERT. DO NOT GRAB ROBBIE ROTTEN WHEN HE IS ON EDGE. “Let go of me!” he snarled, and wrenched his arm from his grasp, finally looking Sportaflop in the face.  Oh, heaven help him, Sportacus looked DISTRAUGHT. He was NEVER this upset when Robbie was rude to him before, what could he POSSIBLY want to say?  But the emotions on Sportacus’ face were spilling into Robbie, and it was making him wobble on the edge of a meltdown. “T-talk to me later,” Robbie said, attempting an apologetic tone as he sprinted off, tears starting to pour as he ran.

                He ducked behind a house and sat against the cold brick, head in his knees, sobbing.  Too bright, too loud, too noisy too…MUCH!  He tightly grabbed around his own legs as he tried to control his sobs, but he knew in the back of his mind that they would come and go as they liked. At least the cool of the shade and the relative quiet were soothing, in comparison to everything that came before.

                Even when his sobs subsided, he still kept his face planted into his own knees. Moving was simply out of the question, so he just…stayed there. Sitting on the cool grass, back against the rough brick, head against his uncomfortably bony knees. He had no idea how long he had been in that position, but it was absolutely long enough to regret it later when he heard a familiar voice.

“Robbie Rotten?”

He snapped his head up, and his neck and back protested angrily.

“OW!” he exclaimed, his stiff neck and back freezing in position. “Go away kid,” he gasped in pain. Not very effective.

Stephanie didn’t move.  "Are you okay?“

"I’m fine,” he said, trying to force a smile through the pain. He must look like a mess, sitting in the dirt, tear tracks on his face, shoulders raised involuntarily to his ears.

Her eyes narrowed. “Are your shoulders SUPPOSED to be like that?”

“Yes, it’s the…new style.  Quite relaxing,” he strained, giving another grimace-smile.

Stephanie went closer to him.

“You LOOK like you were CRYING,” She observed.

WHY are kids LIKE THIS?? “Thanks for NOTICING,” Robbie snarled.  Maybe if he was MEAN, she would go AWAY.

But Stephanie only nodded sympathetically. “Once, I sat in bed for two whole days.  Then when I got up, moving hurt SO BAD that I started crying too.  Sportacus had to help me get flexible enough to dance again!”

“I swear if you call Sportaflop right now I’ll-”

“Don’t worry. I got this,” she said, rubbing her hands together with a downright DEVILISH look in her eye.

“No, no,”  he said, laboriously, and far too slowly, finding his way to his feet. “No way, Pink Girl. On second thought, Sportacus sounds like a GREAT op-” he froze midsentence, as she was not in front of him anymore. “Where’d she go?” he asked nervously.

The answer turned out to be, behind him.

“AAGH!” he cried as she wedged her tiny fist into the base of his spine.

“Kid, kid, have mercy, you’re gonna damage my-UUGH!!” he cried again as she JUMPED ON HIS BACK and stabbed what felt like a knuckle inbetween two of his shoulder muscles.

“Don’t worry Robbie, I do this to my uncle all the time!” she reassured him, as she attacked his other shoulder.

“Get off me, child!” he commanded, but she did not listen.

“Relax, Robbie!” she said in return, before shoving an elbow into the side of his neck.

“Re-LAX?!” he squeaked as she continued on her quest to cleave every muscle from his bones.  “I am NOT-UGH!-A-HRK!-T-BONE-AAHAH!-STEAK!” he protested, punctuated by his involuntary reactions to particularly SHARP jabs to his body.  Good LORD this kid was absolutely RELENTLESS.

This is how I die, he thought numbly.  Killed by the Pink One, and her amateur chiropractics.

Something cracked, very loudly, and she  jumped off of her own accord.

“All done!” She squealed, clearly very proud of herself.

He whirled around and pointed at her. “Oh, NOW you’re done?? Now that you’ve completely DESTROYED my body, NOW you’re DO-” he cut himself off as he realized something.  He was wildly gesticulating, pointing…without any pain at all.  His mouth dropped open. He wiggled his shoulders.  He moved his head around.  He moved one arm in a circle, and then the other.

“You-” he said, pointing as if he was going to continue yelling at her, but he just…couldn’t do it. “You should REALLY, REALLY, get LICENSED, before trying that kind of STUNT again,” Robbie said, a bit lamely.  Because she DID help him.  But, it would be irresponsible to…encourage her, lest she become some sort of chiropractic mini-vigilante who jumped on the backs of unsuspecting adults.

“You’re welcome, Robbie!” She beamed, and skipped off without another word.

He stood there, in the alleyway, for a little while longer.  “Why do these things always happen to ME?” he asked the universe.

The universe had no answer.  So he just sighed, and walked the rest of the way to the grocery store. That was what he came up here to do, and by god, he was going to accomplish that goal today.

Arriving back home with his hard-earned groceries, WITHOUT any more surprise attacks from children or superheroes, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“TOO MANY THINGS happened today,” he announced to his lair.  “First order of business: MAKE an OMELET!”

 Eggs, diced onions, and cheese.  “That’s all an omelet should EVER be,” he grumbled as it fried, inspecting it for doneness.  When it was finished, he didn’t bother with a plate.  He took the entire pan with him to his chair, settling in amongst the soft fibers, and placed it on his lap.

Big mistake.

“AAAHHH!” he screamed, picking up the searing hot pan from his lap in a flash. “Ugh, it was JUST on the STOVE, Robbie!” he scolded himself. “HOW could you FORGET that the STOVE is HOT??”

He sighed. “And why do I keep getting HURT when eggs are involved?” he lamented.  He rocked once, twice, three times, until the momentum from the chair carried him up to his feet.  Grumbling, he went back into the kitchen to get an actual plate.

When finally, FINALLY, he was safely in his chair with his food and without any more…hazards around, he put the first bite in his mouth.

BLISS.

Oh, the flavors were perfect.  He knew that not everybody liked omelets like this, but did he look like a caterer? No. He was a caterer for one: Robbie Rotten.

And his single customer was EXTREMELY satisfied.

“Ahh,” he sighed, contented. “Problem solved.” he leaned back into his chair with a smile, closing his eyes.

Onto problem two: Guilt.

His eyes popped open.

“Guilt?” he spat, like the word tasted disgusting. “Really?”

But yes, as much as he didn’t want to believe it, he was feeling guilty about snapping at Sportacus.

“Why SHOULD I feel guilty?” he asked himself. “I’ve done far worse to him before! I’m supposed to be bad anyway! WHY am I feeling-” he cut himself off with a gasp as the answer occured to him.

“Everything I’ve done,” he said slowly,  "All of my schemes against him…he has never looked that SAD before,“ Robbie said. He closed his eyes and let out a shuddering sigh.  "Oh, I’ve got to at least EXPLAIN myself somehow…”

But he couldn’t figure out quite HOW.  It was never the right TIME. When would he do it, anyway? He couldn’t exactly do it in disguise, and he certainly wasn’t going to let the KIDS overhear him, he had a REPUTATION to uphold. So he went on as normal for a few more days, a few more schemes, trying to find the right time.  There was a tension in the air, Sportacus seemed a little less…enthusiastic, than usual, in dealing with his plans. And with each day that went on, the guilt ate at Robbie more and more, and the harder he tried to find a way to talk to him with no one else around. But the more he tried, the more it seemed like Sportacus was AVOIDING him, he kept flipping away into his ship as soon as the problem was solved!  How was he supposed to explain himself NOW??

The answer ended up coming to him when he was least expecting it: during another chaotic night in the lab.

---

“Carefully…” Robbie was muttering, using an eyedropper to transfer an extremely volatile substance into an even MORE volatile substance that would, theoretically, make a somewhat stable smoke bomb.

“Carefully…” he said again, tongue between his teeth, one eye closed as he squeezed a single drop into the flask. “Last…drop…” he said through gritted teeth, trying to calm his shaky fingers.

And then he sneezed.

BOOM! The entire lair was filled with purple smoke in a matter of seconds.  Robbie coughed and tried to wave it from his face, but there was ENTIRELY too much of it for that now. “C-can’t-breathe-” he spluttered, but realized that monologuing was not worth the precious oxygen.  That he was rapidly losing. He had a gas mask somewhere, where was it?! Where was it?!?!  All he could see was PURPLE!! He felt around for one of the most likely piles, metal pieces clanging to the ground as he dislodged them in his search.

It was taking too long.  His eyes were stinging, he could see spots at the edges of his vision, and his body was physically rejecting the attempts to breathe in any more of the smoke. He needed to get OUT of there or he was going to DIE. He mercifully found the first rung of the ladder by touch, and started the climb.

Somehow, possibly just through muscle memory alone, he made it up and out.  He coughed until his throat was raw, gulping in deep breaths of night air and hanging onto the light fixture as tightly as possible.

Wait. Light fixture?

“UUUUUUUUGHHH!!!” he drew out his groan in frustration. “I didn’t want to end up HERE!!”

He crossed his arms and huffed, because sure enough, he was sitting atop the billboard.  AGAIN.

“Well, I’ll just have to wait for Sportakook to descend from the heavens and-”

He gasped. “Oh no!” he looked around. “Sportacus has been avoiding me! What if he doesn’t COME this time??” He bit his fingernails on the hand not grasping his anchor, anxiously watching the sky.

That thought was SORT OF on his mind every time he was in trouble, and he had been proved wrong every time, but still-

THUNK.  The unfolded ladder hit the billboard right next to him, and he exhaled a HUGE sigh of relief as the hero climbed down to his level.

“Robbie,” Sportacus said, a note of surprise in his voice. “I’m surprised to see you back up here after…”

“Don’t remind me,” Robbie said tersely, kicking his feet against the billboard.

They sat in silence, and Robbie sneaked a glance at Sportacus.  He still looked…down in the dumps.

“I understand that you don’t want to talk to me,” Sportacus said, quietly. “But…I still need to tell you something.”

Don’t WANT to?? Oh no, that was very, VERY wrong.  This is your chance Robbie! Take it!

“Uhm,” Robbie said, looking around for cues. He hadn’t planned for this in advance. Time to improvise!  "You know that I can be mean, cranky, and irritable.“  What an OPENER, Robbie Rotten. Bravo.  "When you tried to talk to me before,” he stopped, took a comically deep breath and barrelled on, “Four days ago, the-the bright sunlight-” he screwed up his face, “-and the loud children-” he made high pitched mocking noises imitating their voices, “-and I was just…SO HUNGRY.” he groaned, grabbing his stomach. Sportacus looked confused still. “And then you grabbed me and it was all…too much.  I simply COULDN’T take it,” he said, grimacing at the awful memory. 

“But look around,” he continued, actually grinning now. “No sun, no kids, and NO. NOISE.  Tell me what you wanted to say.”

Sportacus’ face changed from entirely upset to…something else.  Understanding? “Thank you for explaining,” he said, nodding.  “And what I wanted to say was…I’m sorry.”

Robbie was taken aback.

“For what?”

“You know, about the last time we were up here,” Sportacus said, gesturing around. He paused for a moment, pursed his lips, and continued on.  "I, as a hero, am supposed to keep people from danger, not cause it. I’m…I’m sorry I failed you.“  His face looked the same as it did that night, which Robbie was clear-headed enough now to see that-

He was VISIBLY upset. Possibly on the verge of tears?? Robbie again felt the urge to flee, yet there was nowhere to go. He’d have to face this.  Quick, how does Sportacus make people feel better, think! Think!

"Hey, uh, it’s okay!” Robbie said, smiling wide. “I didn’t die so…it’s fine!” he said, putting two thumbs up. Sportacus managed a half-hearted smile.  Good, good, it’s working!

“But you COULD have.  And that…is unacceptable for a hero.  I hope you can forgive me,” Sportacus said, a bit thickly.  He wiped at his eye, and Robbie went wide-eyed.  if Sportacus started crying right now he would NOT know how to deal with it. His whole world might come crashing down. Try again, Robbie!

“Pah, what’s to forgive?” Robbie scoffed, trying to bring back a little lightheartedness to the hero.  “You HAVE to get me back for all I’ve done SOMEHOW! What’s a little terror between friends, eh?” he bumped him with his elbow.

Sportacus didn’t budge, and he didn’t say anything either.  He was just looking down at his own legs. Robbie sighed.

“Ugh, Sportacus, look.  You might have…pushed me off this sign, which is my, uh, NUMBER ONE fear, but-” Sportacus clapped a hand to his mouth in horror.  Oh, Robbie, you HUMAN DISASTER. Get to the point!  “But-did I even get hurt? No! Not a scratch,” he said, fake-examining his body. “Ta-da!!” he presented.

Sportacus was looking at him intently.  Did that mean he was considering what Robbie was saying?  A good sign! Keep going!

“Even after all I’ve done-or tried to do-to you, you still did your little hero thing-” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis,  “-and saved me. So, you made up for it by…doing that.  And I…forgive you and everything,” he mumbled.

Sportacus blinked several times. “Thank you, Robbie.”

“Whatever,” he said gruffly.

Sportacus wiped at his eye again, and then shook himself out of the fog, giving Robbie a real smile.  Robbie gave a forced smile in return. Thank goodness, he seemed to be back to his old self. It worked!

“Anyway. What’s the trouble tonight?” Sportacus asked, in a much cheerier voice.

“What? Oh, yeah,” Robbie said.  He had forgotten momentarily the reason why he had run up there in the first place.“There’s a whole bunch of smoke down in my lair.  So thick I couldn’t find my gas mask.  So up I went.”

“No wonder my crystal went off. Your lair sounds VERY dangerous, Robbie.”

Robbie considered. “It is. But, I accept the risks of the job, so I can come up with MORE villainous contraptions!!"  he let out a villainous laugh. Sportacus just smiled.

"Well, be careful.  Your wellbeing is important to me, you know.”

“I-” Robbie sputtered, heart beating faster. “Th-thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Sportacus said, jumping up and bringing his fists to his hips. “Now, let’s get down from here."  Robbie knew what to do.  He climbed onto Sportacus’ back, piggyback style, and held on tight the entire way down. 

(In a small part that Robbie didn’t like to acknowledge existed, he thought that holding onto him like this was REALLY NICE.)

Sportacus put him down on the solid ground with a "Good luck with your lair, Robbie,” and then skipped to his ladder, scaling it lightning fast.

Robbie watched him climb up, and then watched the ladder disappear into the clouds.  He sighed. He actually, really…LIKED watching Sportacus perform his feats of acrobatics.  Not that he would ever TELL him that. 

“UGH! I could have told him to leave TOWN to make up for almost killing me!” He thunked himself on the head with his open palm.  “Robbie, you really ARE a big softie,” he grumbled, as he stalked back over to the entrance.

“Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together and grabbing the latch, “Let’s see if things have cleared up down there." 

FWOOSH. What must have been a cloud’s worth of thick purple smoke flew upward out of the entrance hatch, right into Robbie’s face, and upward toward the sky. 

"No. No they have NOT,” he observed, blinking a couple times.  "I think I will…let that AIR OUT a little,“ Robbie decided, making a 180 away from his mildly smoking abode and heading back toward the shed.

He was still giddy about his talk with Sportacus.  He thought it was going to go disastrously, but somehow, he had HELPED him. ROBBIE ROTTEN had somehow HELPED the HERO. "That might have been the only plan of mine that ever worked!” He said happily, but immediately soured.  “Oh boy. THAT might have been my ONLY plan that EVER WORKED,” he said, grimacing.  He sighed. “Oh, Sportacus,” he said, settling into his sleeping bag.  “What am I gonna do with you?”