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young people begging to join our society. Of course, we can only accept the very best … Maybe we could make up some flyers and ask the principal to hand them out to the most intelligentstudents.’ He rose to his feet and began pacing around the room, his hand clasping his chin thoughtfully. ‘I know!’ he said. ‘A contest! They shall compete for the honour of a place in our team.’
    ‘That’s all very well,’ said Amazing Desmond, ‘but what’s the prize?’
    ‘What do you mean, what’s the prize? I just told you—the honour of a place in our team. I can see the advertisements now: “Do YOU have what it takes to be a superhero?”’
    ‘Yes,’ said Desmond, ‘I understand that. But you still need to offer a prize. “Win a fast car” or “Win a luxury holiday” or something.’
    ‘Desmond’s right,’ said Valiant Vera. ‘You can’t have a contest without a prize. But I think it should be something a superhero could use. Now what does a trainee superhero need?’
    ‘Help,’ yawnedHousecat Woman from the corner.
    The others turned to look at her in surprise. Housecat Woman rarely stayed awake long enough to follow a discussion all the way through.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Super Whiz politely.
    ‘That’s what a superhero needs,’ Housecat Woman said. ‘Help to do all the things a superhero does. Someone to share the exhausting workload.’ She gave another enormous yawn. ‘That’s what I’d like, anyway,’ she said, and promptly fell asleep.
    ‘Bingo!’ said Amazing Desmond. ‘She’s got it in one—a sidekick! There’s nothing more certain to make a kid feel like a hero than their own faithful sidekick.’

TWO

    As he sprinted down the hill towards his school Ernie could hear the bell ringing, and by the time he reached the school gate the playground was deserted. Putting on an extra burst of speed, he leapt up the front steps two at a time and burst through the heavy wooden door into the school’s main corridor. He was walking quickly down the corridor—he didn’t want to get in trouble for running in the halls as well—when, to his relief, he saw a flash of colour hurrying along ahead of him. Phew! He wasn’t the onlystudent running late! Then the other person stopped to look at the noticeboard halfway along the corridor, and Ernie saw that he had been mistaken.
    It wasn’t another student. It didn’t seem to be a teacher either; too colourful. It was a short, slightly plump man wearing purple tights that sagged at the bottom, and an orange skivvy that strained over his belly to meet the tights. A small purple cape was slung over his shoulders. Could this be a new drama teacher? Ernie couldn’t think of another reason why a grown man would wear purple tights and a cape.
    As Ernie watched, the man plucked a piece of paper from his sack and pinned it to the noticeboard. He then emptied the rest of the sack’s contents into a bin.
    Ernie was so puzzled that he forgot to pay attention to his feet, which slipped out from under him. Next thing he knew, he was flat on his back and skidding along the corridor straight towards the stranger. Before Ernie could think to warn him, he had slammed straight into the man’s legs. His schoolbag came to rest on his chest.

    The man seemed surprised, but not upset. Looking down at the boy tangled around his feet, he said, ‘Hello.’
    ‘Hi,’ said Ernie weakly.
    ‘Where did you come from?’ the man asked.
    Ernie pointed back towards the door.
    ‘Well you’re certainly light on your feet,’ said the man admiringly. ‘I didn’t even hear you coming.’
    Ernie shrugged modestly, which is hard to do with a schoolbag on your chest.
    ‘I’m Amazing Desmond,’ said the man, removing himself from the muddle of Ernie’s limbs.
    ‘Ernie,’ said Ernie.
    ‘You’re not some kind of athlete, are you, Ernie?’ Amazing Desmond asked suspiciously.

    ‘No,’ said Ernie honestly. He was rather flattered, though. No one had ever mistaken