The Wrong Hook

Super Crayon Buck landed on Tower Three’s balcony, cape damp with morning fog. The four crayon towers rose like bright candles above the forest, and Zoo Metropolis blinked far beyond the treetops.

His phone buzzed. A city alert filled the screen: “TODAY’S HERO ROSTER: Buck—Home Base. Doe—Sky Patrol.”

Buck frowned. “That is… backwards.”

From inside, a kettle clicked off.

“Buck?” Super Crayon Doe called. Her voice carried through the open balcony door. “Did you touch my tablet?”

Buck walked into the kitchen. Doe stood by the counter in her suit, red cape tucked under her arm, tablet glowing with the same roster.

“I didn’t,” Buck said.

Doe lifted Buck’s blue mask from a hook and tried it on. “Does this make me look official?”

“It makes you look like trouble,” Buck muttered.

He snapped his fingers for his giant magic crayon.

A sad little puff popped in the air. Nothing else.

The Wrong Hook

Buck snapped his fingers again.

A sad puff.

“Okay,” he said, staring at his empty palm. “That is officially rude.”

Doe, a light-brown deer in her blue-and-black suit, tightened her cape clasp. She tapped her phone. “Sky Patrol clock is running. Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

Buck pointed at the hook. “You are wearing my mask.”

Doe saluted with two fingers and jogged for the balcony.

Outside, the forest mist clung to Tower Three. A delivery drone buzzed up like an angry bee and dropped a box onto the railing with a thunk.

A small otter in a yellow mail vest popped up on the drone’s screen. “Zip Delivery! Priority crate! Signature—uh—hoofprint required.”

Buck leaned in. The label read: HOME BASE ONLY.

He grabbed the latch.

The box clicked—and snapped shut harder.

The hook beside him yanked. Doe’s blue mask flew off it and smacked onto the box like a magnet.

Down in Zoo Metropolis, the balcony screen flashed live video: cars sliding sideways, as if shoved by something nobody could see.