Timmy walked over to his bike that his brother had crashed into the wall. "Damn!" He swore and examined the bent remains. Hoisting the crushed wheel over his shoulder, he went back to the house. "Steven! You bastard, come here and see what you've done!" After a moment, a footstep resounded from the basement. "That you left in front of my lab?" Steven asked. "I thought there was a burglar when there was actually not any. I grabbed the bike and hurled it toward the shadow. My aim wasn't accurate, I ended up hitting the wall of the garage. Sorry." Beaker in hand, he bent his arm and flipped the frame of the wheel against the wall to shake the dent out. "Maybe I can fix it," he offered. Timmy stared at his brother and snarled. He raised an angry fist and shouted, "Maybe!? You'd only maybe fix it? I'll expect full compensation for this!" Steven calmly poured the contents of the beaker on the wheel. There was a great crunching sound as the metal suddenly snapped into a bunch of pieces. Slowly, the rest of the wheel formed a perfect circle as Timmy gaped at the transformation. Grabbing the beaker he doused his torn jeans, hoping it would effect a similar miraculous repair. "NOOOO!" screamed Steven lunging for his brother, but it was too late. Flames burst from the wet cloth. "You fool! It should only be used on bikes. Now, I have no choice but to watch you burn, since I never could create a formula to extinguish these flames." Timmy shrieked as the chemical ate away at his jeans. Minutes later, Timmy's charred jeans were fallen but his boxer saved his dignity. Steven snickered. "Good choice in wearing silk boxers with bikes on them because the chemical doesn't affect bikes that way."
Currently grooving to: Stanford Talisman - Beulah