The Middleman: The Accidental Occupation Admission

"Great Caesar's Ghost! Watch out for that car!" shouted the Middleman as I pulled the Middlemobile onto the highway.

"Relax MM, I've got it covered," I said, swerving past the minivan and speeding towards our target: a bright red Jaguar going at least a 110 mph.

Wait a second.

You're probably thinking 'What the heck is this guy doing? And what the BEEP! is a Middleman? Well relax, let me explain. My name is Jake Richardson, and I work for the Middleman. For those of you who still have no idea what I'm talking about, let me start from the beginning.

I got out of school a few weeks ago, ready to start my free time hanging out and watching TV. But when I got home, I saw a letter in the mailbox from some place called the 'Jolly Fats Wehawkin Employment Agency', asking me to show up for a chance to temp for them. I was about to throw the thing away and have fun with my summer, but the phone rang before you could say 'Dubbie' (a Middleman favorite for some reason).

"Hello?" I answered, beginning to crumple the letter.

"Hey bud, what's up?" asked my Dad.

Dad. Great. Every time I get a job opportunity, he forces me to go to it, no matter how gross or ridiculous it is. Last week, he made me go to a hotel, only for me to find out that I would have to clean the putrid toilets in every bathroom. The hotel had somewhere between 10 and 50 bathrooms.

"Nothing," I said, trying to open the trashcan without making a sound. Unfortunately for me, I hit my foot on the trash can and fell on the letter, crumpling it loudly.

"What's going on? Are you ok?" my Dad asked.

"Yeah, I'm ok," I answered, pulling myself up with the counter. "I was trying to throw away a letter-"

"What letter?" My Dad asked, getting angry. "You better not be throwing away something that-"

"Could help my future," I finished. "C'mon Dad, I've heard this before."

"Well we're going to go see these people," my Dad responded, now sounding exasperated. "Today. Soon as I get home."

Needless to say, my Dad got home, put away his things, and drove me to the Jolly Fats Wehawkin Employment Agency building. Although the outside of the building looked like it should be condemned, the inside was actually nice, even if it was a little depressing. Framed pictures covered the walls and some elevator music was slowly trickling through the speakers.

An old lady, presumably a secretary, sat at the front desk. When my Dad and I walked in, she said, "Oh great. Another puffer." She bent back down to do her work and said, "Go sober up outside cupcake. I just mopped these floors and I don't need you puking all over them."

"But I just got this letter-" I started.

"Congrats kiddo, you've got a mailbox," the cranky secretary said. "Now get lost."

Suddenly a voice from up the stairs behind the desk said, "Now Ida, this is our new temporary worker. Remember? We sent that letter out yesterday?"

Ida responded, "Whatever," and left the room. The guy from up the stairs behind the desk came down the stairs immediately after. This guy looked like a geek: a shirt that looked like my mom sewed together (thank God you don't have to see my Halloween costume from last year!) and matching pants.

"Welcome," he said, holding his hand out, which my Dad shook.

"I'm so glad my son finally has the chance to work," my Dad said. I tried to get him to stop before that, but he went with it anyway. The guy we were talking to had a flash of confusion in his eye, but it went away as soon as it came.

"Well then, why don't you come upstairs to your office," The Guy said, moving me towards the stairs, "and you can pick him up around six," he said to my Dad. When my Dad left, The Guy said, "Ok, who are you and who do you work for?"

"What?" I asked, completely confused. "I got a letter in the mail, and-"

"I must have sent the letter to the wrong address then," interrupted The Guy. "You might as well-"

Suddenly Ida burst through the door. "Bad news boss," she said, "O2STK just called. It's a redball. They've been monitoring police radio scans showing a guy breaking into an ice cream factory."

"An ice cream factory?" The Guy asked. "Now that's just wrong! I'm on the way!" He looked back at me and said, "You may not have been picked for the job, but you might as well come along. I'm going to need backup on this one."

"Backup?" I laughed. "C'mon, it's an ice cream break-in." I followed him out to the garage, where we hopped into his 'Middlemobile,' a 1968 Ford Fairlane 500.

"An ice cream break-in is no laughing matter," The Guy said as he floored it out of the garage.

"Well at least tell me what you do," I said.

"I solve exotic problems," he answered, swerving around a corner.

"Define exotic," I said.

"You know how in comics there are aliens, mad scientists, and robots trying to take over the world?" The Guy asked. "Well real life works that way. I take them on before they take over the world." He parked the Middlemobile in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse.

"So, you're like the superhero?" I asked.

"I'm just the Middleman," he finished, stepping out of the car.

I followed, head reeling from the information he gave me. "Okay. So you're a superhero," I said, pointing at the Middleman, "and there are aliens, robots, and scientists trying to take over the world?"

"That's right," said the Middleman, pulling a future looking gun from his hip-holster. "Now let's go in."

We walked into the warehouse, searching for any person or signs of a break-in. We ran into some police towards the center of the building.

"Hey, you guys can't be running around here," said one of the cops. "This is a crime scene."

The Middleman pulled a badge from his pocket and said, "I'm Agent Colt with the FBI, and this is my trainee Jeff." The cop looked at the badge and said, "Okay, come in. Place is yours."

Once the cop left, I asked the Middleman, "So where did you get that badge?"

The Middleman replied, "We Middlemen always have badges for any occasion, uh…" He paused, looking slightly confused. "What is your name?" he finally asked.

"Jake, Jake Richardson," I said. "Now what are we looking for?"

"We're looking for any signs of a mad-scientist," answered the Middleman, waving around a strange looking device. "Got something!" he cried, waving for me to come closer. "This is a mad scientist break-in," the Middleman said, "but who it is we need to find out." He put a hand to his ear. "Ida," he said, "take a look at these samples on the ground here." The Middleman then put on strange looking sunglasses and proceeded to look at the ground. After a few minutes, he exclaimed, "My Little Pony! It's him!"

"It's who?" I asked.

"An old Middleman nemesis has resurfaced," the Middleman answered, racing for the Middlemobile. Once we both were in the car, I asked, "So who is it?"

"Someone that we need to research in the Middle-archives," the Middleman answered as he gunned the engine. "Dr. Franklestein." As you can probably imagine, I laughed all the way to the Middleman HQ. Once we walked inside past the front office cover up, I finally said, "Okay, wait a minute. You expect me to believe a guy named 'Dr. Franklestein' is running around the city, and that he stole ice cream?"

"That's exactly what our situation is Jake," the Middleman answered, looking embarrassed and confused. "Why is that so funny?"

"Because," I said, "it sounds completely ridiculous. Whatever happened to Frankenstein and mixed up body parts or something?"

"Jake," the Middleman said, "Dr. Franklestein is no laughing matter. Take a look for yourself once we reach the Middle-archives." Once we were in the library-ish place, the Middleman handed me a small book, already open. The page showed a picture of an old guy with goofy white hair zapping a large tub of milk with electricity.

"Dr. Franklestein, inspired by the novel Frankenstein by Mary Shelly, tried to create monsters with something that would not get him thrown in jail right away. Milk was his first try, now it seems he's going after the milk in ice cream!" The Middleman took off at a run towards the main room in HQ. "Ida," he said, out of breath, "run a search on the known whereabouts of Dr. Franklestein."

"Already got one," Ida exclaimed. "He lives on 4218 Baker Street." She looked at the Middleman and said, "Hope you lose this one like Wendy."

"Once she left, I turned to the Middleman and asked, "Who's 'Wendy'?"

"I'll explain later," the Middleman answered. Strangely, he looked like he was going to cry. "Come now Jake," he said, walking towards the garage. "Let's stop a mad scientist." Suddenly an explosion cut through the wall. An old guy with goofy white hair walked through the newly made hole and, when he saw us, laughed.

"This is who was after me?" he said, still laughing. "This is ridiculous."

"Not as ridiculous as trying to bring milk to life, Franklestein," I cut in.

"SILENCE!" he roared. "I will not tolerate this talk! I have things to do, you know."

"Like what?" the Middleman asked him.

"I've finally achieved my dream!" Dr. Franklestein exclaimed. "I brought ICE CREAM TO LIFE! And now," he said, looking at us again, "I'm going to send my ice cream monsters to every ice cream truck in the city. Soon, this city will drown in its favorite treat! Tomorrow… THE WORLD! My plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity."

As he walked back out the hole in the wall, he said, "Now good day." The doctor jumped into a red Jaguar and drove away.

"We can't just let him do this!" the Middleman said, walking towards the garage again. "Let's go Jake!"

"Wait," I said, jumping in the driver's seat. "I drive."

"But-," the Middleman started.

"You wanna argue? Or do you want to catch this guy?" I asked. Finally, the Middleman gave up and was ready to ride shotgun.

Now's about the time we caught up on the highway with the 'good' doctor.

Once I swerved, I sped up, ending up door-to-door with Franklestein.

"Lights out Franklestein!" I yelled, ramming his car with the Middlemobile. His car crashed into another, and that car crashed into another, and so on. A sound like the Wilhelm scream cut through the air, and a large explosion incinerated the crashed cars. Fortunately, the people in the crashed cars escaped before the explosion.

While staring at the large fireball, I asked the Middleman, "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"No Jake," the Middleman said, getting in the driver's seat of the Middlemobile. "But if we don't leave now, we have a lot of explaining to do. Now let's go home. It's almost six, and your dad will be looking for you."

"Yeah you're right," I said as we drove away from the road. "Hey MM," I said, looking back at the explosion. "Do you think Dr. Franklestein survived?"

"I don't know Jake," the Middleman said.

Before I knew it, we were back at HQ and I sat outside, waiting for my dad. Once he showed up, my dad gave me a hug and asked, "So how was work?"

"Oh you know," I said, the setting sun reminding me of the explosion. "Same as any job."