Mr. Egghead's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Mr. Egghead sat on his shelf in the glass laboratory and polished the crack on his forehead. He was a hard-boiled egg with a bit of yellow yolk showing where his face should be. He had two arms and two skinny legs. For months he had been the one experiment that actually worked, and he meant to stay that way. Then the doors slid open. A cart rolled in, loaded with covered trays. New experiments. Mr. Egghead heard bubbling and buzzing under the cloth. His yolk face went pale. Professor Edelman came in behind the cart. His gray hair stuck up in every direction. His glasses slid down his red nose. He was the man who made Mr. Egghead, the man whose praise kept Mr. Egghead on the top shelf. "Big day," the Professor said, rubbing his hands. "Fresh results to test. We'll see which one earns the star spot." Mr. Egghead's legs shook. If a new experiment worked better, he was done. Off the shelf. Forgotten. He grabbed his handwritten log. Every page held a checked-off task. Daily workout. Read a new book. Learn a new skill. He had filled it himself, one small win at a time. Mr. Egghead climbed down and marched to the Professor's boots. He held up the log. "Look," he said. "I don't just sit in a jar. I improve. Every single day." The Professor knelt. He flipped through the pages. His eyebrows rose. "Complete daily workout. Read a new book. Learn a new skill." He read faster. "You kept records. You measured yourself. You never stopped." "Test the new ones," Mr. Egghead said. "They can't show you this." The Professor lifted the first cloth. A puddle of green goo slid off the tray and hissed on the floor. He lifted the second. A lump of clay just sat there. He lifted the third. Nothing moved at all. He stood and set the log down gently. "None of them can walk," the Professor said. "None of them can talk. And none of them keep a record of getting better." He smiled at Mr. Egghead. "You're still my best result. The star spot is yours." Mr. Egghead cheered. He hugged the Professor's boot. He had won. But the Professor was already writing on his clipboard. "A result this good shouldn't stay in one lab," he said. "I'll present you at the science fair next week. In front of the whole city. Every scientist will want to see what you can do live." Mr. Egghead's cheer died in his throat. Live. In front of everyone. One crack, one stumble, and they would all see he was just an egg. The Professor patted his head and walked out, humming. Mr. Egghead looked at his log. Then at the fair date circled on the wall. He had kept his shelf. Now he had to prove himself to the whole world.