Yes...this would have been my entry for the SP Hero Hybrids event. However, since the event seems to have died out completely, I've decided to post my work as a fanfic/tribute to Richard's impressive Handyman creation. This is for you Richard!

e worst for Matthew Nielson. He was going…to camp. It wasn’t a particularly famous place; but it was the only one his foster dad, Marco Miller, could afford. It was the time of year where Marco had to do loads of things outside of town. The man was smart enough to know he couldn’t leave Matthew at home alone, even with all his clones to look after him. Especially not after that nuke incident.

(Matthew and his clones built special bomb in Marco’s yard once. Matthew claimed it was a science project and it had to be accurate. The bomb didn’t do anything but release happy gas if it ever went off, but there was literally no difference in appearance between Matthew’s nuke and a real one. The authorities eventually caught wind of the project and almost detained Matthew, but by then Marco was back and convinced the bomb squad that the bomb was non-lethal.)

“You’re going to love it there.” Marco said, eying Matthew through his rear-view mirror. The man was well-built, and owned a startling resemblance to human actor Mark Hamill. Strangely enough, Marco had never seen Star Wars in his life; rendering Matthew’s arsenal of humorous Luke Skywalker-based jokes useless.

Matthew slumped in his seat, grumbling, almost sliding out of underneath his seatbelt. He was a strange sight to the average human. His skin was navy-blue, his square-like face was flat, and his eyes were bright yellow and pupil-free. A crest of almost the same size and shape protruded from the top of the back of his head. His hands were square-shaped, and owned a single central finger each. For obvious reasons, Matthew had his hands in his pockets.

Human regulations stated that kids his size were supposed to sit in car seats. Matthew’s regulations stated that car seats were too embarrassing to sit on at his age. Still, rules were rules. Plus, Matthew never grew, which meant he was stuck in this car seat. Forever.

“You’re going to do so many fun things!” Marco continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Kayaking, hiking, scavenger hunts…it’s going to be great!”

Matthew was only half-listening. Most of his attention was on the other cars that were passing by. There was nothing Matthew wanted more than to get his own driver’s licence. Still, according to human regulations, being three feet tall sort of renders you unable to drive a car. You can’t see around your vehicle properly and your feet don’t reach the pedals. Matthew could have done without his size in this case. He was going to need a chaperone for the rest of his life.

“They don’t even have Wi-Fi there!” Matthew complained. “How am I supposed to have fun without an internet connection?”

Marco sighed, and his answer was slightly firmer than usual.

“Matthew…you don’t need internet to socialize with people.”

“Yeah, I do! Discord, Twitter…”

“I mean face-to-face…personal-type stuff, Matthew.”

“Face-Time.” was the reply.

Sighing, Marco slowed down and turned onto a dirt road. Matthew looked out the window, narrowing his eyes.

“Hey…” he said. “I didn’t know taxis could go cross-country.”

“They can’t.” Marco replied, carefully weaving around some large potholes. “If this road gets any worse, you might have to walk to the campsite.”

The alien fell silent for a while, gaze locked on the land beyond the car window. The road they were on was bordered by varied wild grasses and shrubs, and beyond them was a thick forest of pine trees. Matthew leaned a little closer to the glass, a thrill running through him. He’d never climbed trees before…but he’d heard it was fun. Marco didn’t have any trees back at his mansion house; just a spread of green grass that spread all across the property.

“How rugged is this campsite anyways?” Matthew asked, without changing his position. “I heard that when you don’t have any outhouses you just go out to the woods and…”

“No,” Marco cut in quickly. “I didn’t read about any outhouses on the webpage.”

“Gross!”

“Seriously, Matthew, what are you complaining about? You’re incapable of going to the bathroom.”

“Yeah…only because I’m not designed to eat things. I’m designed to look like I’m eating; I don’t actually do it.”

Marco slowed down and stopped, looking over his shoulder at Matthew. What sort of question was that, then? he wondered, but he didn’t ask. The alien would probably just answer with some sort of joke.

“Alright, this is as far as this car can go.” he said.

Matthew sighed, unclipping his seatbelt and slinging his pack over one shoulder. Getting out of the taxi, he closed the door and stood back to let Marco turn it around. The tires ground into the dirt, flinging dark earth into the grass bordering the road. Before leaving, Marco rolled down the driver’s side window and gave Matthew a reassuring smile. The alien rushed over and stood beside the vehicle, saluting his foster parent.

“Be the good guy, Matthew.” Marco reminded him. “And stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, sir.” Matthew answered.

A slight frown touched the man’s face.

“I didn’t check what you packed. Are you sure you have everything you need?”

Matthew squinted, stuffed a hand into his pocket, began to pull out a piece of paper. Marco watched as it seemed to grow out of the alien’s pocket, and then checked his wristwatch. His eyes widened.

“Matthew! The time!” he cried. “I have to go!”

The alien nodded, stuffing the list back into his pocket. “Okay! Bye, Marco!”

“Till’ later, hero.” was the answer, and then Marco drove off.

Matthew stood still a moment, watching as the taxi got smaller and smaller. Then, he turned and began the slow walk to the campsite. As he did, Matthew smiled inwardly. The long blank list trick worked like a charm.



“Welcome to Camp Lots-o-Fun!” an ex-military-looking man yelled. He strutted across the top of the mess hall table, his big black combat boots barely missing the cluttered place settings.

“You’re gonna have so much fun, you’ll never want to go home! Ever!”

Matthew sat quietly in his seat, watching as the man marched back and forth across the tabletop. The wood was well worn with marks, clearly suggesting this guy had been doing this for a long time. The suntanned individual wore a black bandana on his head, a camo-patterned shirt, and dark green cargo pants. He had lots of military medals too, but instead of wearing them across his chest…he had them pinned all around the lower hem of his shirt. Matthew narrowed his eyes, wondering if any of them were real. Finishing off the look was a silver ball chain necklace with dog tags, and a buzz cut that told everybody that saw it, that this guy was a real soldier. The look in his intense, dark grey eyes suggested some air of militarism too, but there was one detail that kind of threw all the soldier-type stuff out the window.

He was wearing a company-grade name tag; the standard one that said, ‘Hello my name is’ and then had a blank space under the words. Filled in the blank was the name ‘Sarge’, written in big black letters. It would have looked more professional, if the text didn’t look like it had been drawn by a three-year-old.

Matthew took his eyes off Sarge for a moment, glancing around the room. There had been no one to greet him at the camp entrance, as he’d expected there to be. The closest building was the mess hall, so he’d gone in there to ask questions about the place. There were a lot of people in there, likely everyone in the entire camp.

Honestly, he’d kind of expected the hall to look the way it did. Most of the space in the building was taken up by the solid oak table, leaving barely any space for the chairs bordering it. You could get in your seat if you were in the hall first, or by going under the table and sliding in that way. Otherwise, the seat you got was yours. You’re then stuck there until everyone to your left or right leaves. Matthew was short, so he was lucky to get under the table and slip into one of the middle seats. As was expected, all the edge seats were taken.

Additionally, the floor was cluttered with food; seemingly dropped and forgotten. However, some unappetizing splatters were decorating the walls as well as the ceiling, leading Matthew to believe the mess hall wasn’t just a place for eating. He’d never seen an actual food fight before, but wasn’t brave enough to start one. Fidgeting for a moment, Matthew looked down at his hands and realized he’d been fondling an uncooked macaroni noodle the entire time. A quick glance across the plates told him that they hadn’t had any pasta for lunch; just some sandwiches filled with these thin white hair things called alfalfa sprouts. For obvious reasons, he’d left his food untouched.

Sarge halted in his marching for a moment, bending down and looking Matthew right in the face.

“Ah, a new recruit!” he bellowed. “What did they drop you here for?”

Matthew dropped the noodle, putting his hands on the table and sitting up straight.

“To have fun, sir!” he replied, studying Sarge’s face. For a military man…he sure didn’t know how to trim his nose hairs properly.

“Excellent!” the man roared, straightening up and continuing to march until he marched right off the table edge. Like the marks on the table, his landing suggested he’d done this at least half a million times. Turning around, he faced the rest of the people in the room before looking back at Matthew.

“So, rookie,” the military man said. “How long will you serve here? My best guess is 25 years, if not more.”

Matthew blinked, and then he folded his arms.

“No, sir.” was his response. “Marco told me he’s going to pick me up in three weeks!”

At this, Sarge laughed uproariously for a few minutes, and stopped abruptly, a serious look on his face. Matthew didn’t need to look around to know that no one else had laughed with him.

“No recruit of mine bows out until he serves at least 12 years.” Sarge stated firmly. “Any less than that and he’s a lady in my book.”

Matthew looked around at the rest of the ‘recruits’. All of them were human males, around their teenage years in looks. They were dressed like they were all aspiring gangsters; adorned with tattoos, varied piercings, and wacky hairstyles splashed with vibrant neon highlights. For a fleeting moment, Matthew wondered if Marco had dropped him off at the wrong campus.

Returning his attention to Sarge, he realized the guy was looking at him quite expectantly. Unsure of what to say, Matthew nodded, looking down at his seat.

“Yes, sir.” he replied.



The mess hall was nothing compared to the rest of the camp. Sarge ran the place like a military training ground. There were activities to participate in, but they were far more extreme than the how they’d been mentioned on the worldwide web.

First, was the kayaking. Rule? No kayaks. Everyone had to get in the nearby river and swim as fast as they could to the other side, all while avoiding obstacles and other recruits. Also, the river wasn’t just some slightly fast, moderately challenging current kind of thing. These were closer to white water rapids. Matthew excelled simply because water was like another home to him, but he was genuinely surprised at how strong the other recruits were at swimming too.

Next, there was supposed to be hiking. Matthew wasn’t sure if climbing up a near vertical, rock face counted as ‘hiking’. The rock was high, but not by much; probably guaranteeing broken legs if you fell. The fact no one wore safety harnesses was the cherry on top of the ridiculous operation. Instead, you had what Sarge called a “Trust Buddy”. The Trust Buddy had to stand directly underneath the climbing person and catch them if they fell. Luckily, Matthew’s size excluded him from being a Trust Buddy. Though he was the lightest participant to catch, he never fell. There were a couple of close calls though, but he had fun all the same.

The scavenger hunts were a little less nerve-wracking. A little. You didn’t really have any life-threatening things happening while the hunts were going. Objective? Sarge would go hide, and everyone would have to find him. The person who finds him first gets to sleep in the next morning. Rumor had it that all recruits had to be up and ready at 4:30 AM sharp. Even if you did find Sarge, you’d only get like…an additional 30 minutes of rest time tomorrow morning. The worst part of the hunt was Sarge himself. During the search, if you passed by Sarge’s hiding place, he’d jump out yelling and scare you half to death. The only way to avoid this was to see him first and call his name.

Nearing dinnertime, Matthew was on his way to mess hall when he overheard some teens whispering to each other by the outhouses (which, though never mentioned, actually existed). They saw him coming and waved him over. One had purple hair and some ugly scarring on his chest. The other had bright orange hair and was gnawing on an unlit cigarette. Sarge had a strict no-smoking policy here.

“Hey…new guy,” the purple-haired one said. “Wanna hear a scary story?”

Matthew shrugged. “I’ve never heard one before, so sure.”

“It’s really scary.” the orange-haired one added. “Are you sure you want us to tell you?”

The alien folded his arms and nodded. He wasn’t afraid. The teens began their tale, swiftly wrapping Matthew in the frightening lore of the big black Handyman.

After they’d finished, Matthew went to dinner with, not chills, but thrills running through him. The teens said the monster was here, and it often patrolled around the camp. This was the reasoning behind Sarge’s strict rule of no being outdoors after dark. If it was out there…he was going to be the one to find it.



“Alright recruits!” Sarge barked, “Time to take a hike! Perfect day for it in my book!”

This morning boasted blue skies, white clouds and a bright yellow sun; so the conditions seemed quite perfect indeed. Matthew wondered what the Sarge’s book’s title was. Probably ‘Extreme Camping for Ex-Military Commanders and Their Recruits’. At the front of the lineup, Matthew made sure his pack was secure. He didn’t want it slipping off him during the climb.

“Ready, sir!” he told Sarge.

Receiving the nod of approval, the alien darted to the rock wall and began to scramble up it as fast as he could. Below him, he heard Sarge’s voice rushing up towards him, and his nerves tingled. Fortunately, the reprimand wasn’t directed at him.

“Well, what are you waiting for, recruit?!” he yelled. “Get under that boy and be his Trust Buddy!”

Matthew continued, avoiding the trouble spots he’d encountered on his first climb. He still slipped once, right near the top, but he managed to save himself. However, he did accidentally send some rocks down below.

“You! Pink hair!” he heard Sarge bark. “Those rocks aren’t your buddies! Do not forget your mission! Focus!”

With a final heave, Matthew pulled himself up on top. Being the first one there, no one was there to congratulate him, or to see him run off and disappear into the woods.

“Look out, monster.” Matthew whispered as he ran. “Awesomeness is coming your way!”

The forest was not as intimidating as he’d expected. Sunlight streamed through the treetops, showering the earth below in golden light. The varied, joyful birdsongs added to the peaceful ambience, and even the distant rush of the kayaking river seemed like the background music to a blissful dream. Matthew moved quickly, looking over his shoulder every few moments, as well as looking ahead. The last thing he wanted to do was get lost. Getting found by Sarge was secondary.

Soon, Matthew reached a large grassy clearing; wildflowers dotting the scene here and there. The alien stopped by the edge of the plain, sitting down and opening his pack. All he’d brought was a water bottle, a notebook and pencil, and h

It's been a little bit but I do want you to know for the record that this was fun to read. I hope Richard likes it.

Thanks Urako! I worked really hard on it and I'm really glad with how it turned out. :)