Speaker 1: From the far corners of the unknown come tales of
new worlds and impossible missions. These are the stories of
one regular kid called to something, Irregular Adventures a thousand
light years wide and one afternoon Long Scout Rooks and
the Astronaugs. From the ordinary streets of Kingstown come tails
of the extraordinary, a crew of unlikely heroes and a
galaxy that keeps needing saving. Right after school Salad Rooks
and the Astronogs.
Speaker 2: Stove Rooks and Tonight Assault on Trios, Episode one. The
room was dark and Pharaoh couldn't see anything. The air
was cold, but the surface of the floor he sat
on and the wall his back was against was warm.
It was a confusing mix, like the room itself had
a fever. Pharaoh tried to adjust, tried to get comfortable,
but the restraints that held his arms together at the
wrists and his feet together at the ankles only tightened
the more he moved. They seemed to be triggered by movement.
They were just as strange, just as alien as the
temperatures that resided in the dark, dungeon like room. Pharaoh
should have seen this coming. He should have expected things
to be different. After all, when you're a prisoner on
another world far from your own, anything and everything could
be possible. Pharaoh tried one last time to look around,
but the lack of light made it impossible to see.
Beneath the silence, he thought he'd heard rushing water, like
an underground river. Maybe they're gone, Pharaoh thought to himself,
that's not a good thing. Hello, Pharaoh called out, attempting
to make contact. Is anyone out there? Suddenly there was
a loud rucus from above. Something was still up there.
Over the noise, he heard a screeching roar. It was
identical to the one that came from the creature that
brought him here. They stood upright, wore armor, and had
the most repulsive faces. As much as Pharaoh wanted out,
as much as he wanted to go home to his
own room, in his own house, on his own planet,
he also wasn't in a rush to see those hideous
mugs again. Pharaoh decided to remain quiet and not disturb
the creatures any further. Out of sight, out of mind, right,
he wasn't sure what they were capable of or what
they had planned for him. With any hope at all,
help was on the way, but he knew that was
a long shot, especially with who was in charge back home.
Don't let me down, Professor Pharaoh, whispered helplessly to himself.
Scout Brooks lived only a couple of blocks from Kingstown
Middle School. He wanted to take the bus to school,
but because he lived so close, that wasn't in the cards.
He had always wanted to ride a school bus, those
glorious long yellow submarines for the roadways. Maybe if I
leave for school a little earlier each day and walk
to another neighborhood, I could catch a bus to school.
Scout thought way in the logistics of that option. Nobody
pictured his mom or dad spotting him standing at a
bus stop in another neighborhood. His stomach twisted into a
nervous knot of guilt, and he quickly erased that dream
from his head like it was nothing but chalk on
a chalkboard. Only a couple of minutes after leaving his home,
he was walking through the entrance of Kingstown Middle School
for the very first time. It was the first day
of seventh grade, and despite a long summer of doing
nothing but convincing himself that he would dominate the school,
had become popular. On the very first day, nervousness ruptured
in him like an exploding carbonated beverage. Once he was
actually in the school, it was a large, two story building.
The hallways were clogged with students and lined on either
side with tall, multicolored metal lockers. A Scout walked down
the first hallway, referencing his class schedule that he printed
off before he left home. He was immediately stopped dead
in his tracks by a random kid blocking his way.
The kid was shorter than Scout and a little wider
compared to his gangly appearance. He wore glasses and an
oversized backpack secured tightly to him with both straps. I lost,
the kid said, his eyes wide like a deer caught
in a pair of headlights.
Speaker 1: Helped me.
Speaker 2: Scout looked around, but quickly determined that the strange kid,
who he'd never seen before, was talking to him. What
can I do, Scott hesitantly asked, I need to find
my first class, the kid said, handing Scott his schedule.
Scott looked it over. The page was crumpled and torn
in multiple spots. It looked like a schedule that had
been floating around for weeks and not mere minutes before
the school year even began. Scout zeroed in on the
first class listed on the scheduled and smiled, Hey, hey,
your first class is the same as my first class homeroom,
mister Watson. Great, the strange kid sighed in relief. I
just follow you. Then, Scout realigned his sense of direction.
Man pointed down the hallway through the clog of other
eleven and twelve year olds. This way, he said, follow me.
Scout led the way, but when he arrived at the classroom,
he'd come to realize that the strange kid had vanished.
He was nowhere to be found. He'd either got jammed
up in the clog or lost again. There was nothing
more Scout could do. Home room was a new thing
for Scout. For him, those didn't exist in sixth grade,
but now coming into seventh grade, he had to assume
everything was going to be different. His brother had warned
him about this. It wasn't just a school change, it
was a life change. Lockers, home room, strange kids lost
in the hallways. Scout tried to brace himself for whatever
was coming next. He just had no idea what to
brace himself for. As mister Watson commanded a roll call,
shouting out every kid's name at an unnecessarily loud volume.
The classroom door flew open and inpoured that strange lost kid.
He tripped and stumbled, spilling out his backpack full of compasses, rulers,
and unsharpened number two pencils. Half the classroom laughed, while
the other half was in shock of the complete randomness
that was unfolding before their eyes. Mister Watson stood in
front of the downed kid with hands firmly on his hips,
and you to be he asked, Annoyed, The kid stood
up and nervously smiled. Yad Chuck, Chuck Taylor, Chuck Taylor.
Mister Watson mockingly repeated, like the brand of shoes he
referenced his class roster. As Chuck stood to his feet
and scooped up all of his tools and pencils. Ah,
here you are, Chuck Taylor, mister Watson pointed to the
only empty seat in the back of the room. That's yours.
Trying not to trip again on the way back there. Embarrassed,
Chuck walked to the back of the classroom and had
a seat as the rest of the class tried their
best to hold back any laughter. By lunchtime, Scout was
more than ready to eat. All of the nervous and
awkward energy that had been swimming around inside of him
since he'd walked into the building had finally settled. Once
he found an empty lunch table to sit at by himself,
He opened his brown paper bag and dumped out its contents,
or rather content. It was just a sandwich, what, Scout exclaimed,
Where's the rest of it? He double checked the bag
to confirm that it was in fact empty, and then
sorrowfully accepted the fact that his mom or dad had
literally forgotten to pack everything. Either that or his older
brother Mark had swiped the goods before he left for
his first day of high school. Frustrated, Scout crumbled the
brown bag up into a ball and heaved it across
the cafeteria, unintentionally pelting a kid in the back of
the head. Oh so sorry, Scott called out. The kid
turned around, and Scout was stunned to see it was
Chuck Taylor. Chuck, come on over, he said, trying to
disguise the bag pelting as just the way to grab
his attention. Chuck waddle over the Scout's table, setting down
his lunch trick that carried lukewarm pizza, a cardboard chocolate milk,
and a cup of syrupy peaches. Why did you throw
that at me, he asked. I didn't mean it, Scout admitted,
I was just mad and my lunch was incomplete.
Speaker 1: Oh what happened?
Speaker 2: Either a couple of forgetful parents or a sneaky older brother,
Scott said, you got to watch those older brothers, Chuck said,
taking a bite of his pizza. You have one too,
I take it. No, but I've heard things. Scout looked
around the cafeteria, taking in the sights and sounds of
kids that seemed to have already made new friends or
had things to talk about. It was overwhelming and even
a little intimidating. Scout turned back to face Chuck. How
are you late for home room? You were supposed to
just follow me down the hall launch story, Chuck said,
slurping a slippery peach from his plastic spoon. Once Scout
realized Chuck wasn't going to elaborate, he decided to unwrap
his sandwich from the foil and take a bite. Just then,
the table shook as another student plopped down on Scout's
other side. Scout and Chuck both looked. The kid was
much larger than either of them, wore an oversized Hawaiian
T shirt, and had his long brown hair pulled back
into a ponytail. Hi, Scott said. The kid only responded
with a slight head tilt and wink in Scout's direction
before he dug into his tray of hot lunch. Scout
and Chuck exchanged a k awkward glance with one another,
but he realized the new kid wasn't going to speak.
Scout tried again, I'm Scout Brooks. This is Chuck Taylor.
Scout extended his arm for a handshake, but the new
kid just gawked at it. Finally, you smiled. Yeah, it's
a pretty good looking forearm, he said, finally, shaking Scout's hand.
Do you do little bustle workouts for that? Scout shook
his head. No, Oh, good fool be I'm Phil, the
kid said Phil Easton. Nice to meet you, Phil, Scout said, yeah,
chimed in with a mouthful of food. Nice to meet you.
Phil began to shovel food into his mouth, but still
somehow spoke with crystal clear unaltered clarity. You guys look
like fresh seventh grade meat. Phil said, we are. Scott said,
you're in eighth grade. I assume go, Phil said the
Scout and Chuck's surprise seventh Just like you, bros. Dan,
Why did you say it like that? Chuck asked, because
you got his sound like you fit in. Phil said,
you got his sound experienced, comfortable, and older than everyone else.
That's the only way you come into a new school
a dobb date. I've already told several people I was
older than them. Scout and Chuck exchanged another awkward glance
with one another. Phil then reached down deep into his
backpack and pulled out a brochure that he slapped down
on the table. At this, Phil said, this brochure is
filled with every after school club the school offers, from
chess club to computer club. Leave it offer a computer
chess club by advice, joyed, one of these clubs locked
you in and level up above the rest. You'll get
people talking, you'll kick start your lure. Scott pulled a
brochure closer and studied it. The front had an image
of the school and the words after school awesomeness scrawled
across the top and have fun over the top front.
Of course, Scout thought, after school clubs, that'll make the
new school year interesting and fun. Can I take this pro? Sure?
Scout asked? Sure? Bro Phil said, I have plenty more
where that cave drub two, he said, leaning over to
grab Chuck's attention. Chuck just waved him off. Nah yo yo,
and not for me. I have an after school job.
No time for clubs, he said. What's your job? Scout asked,
but Chuck refused to say, whether it was embarrassment or
something he wasn't allowed to say. Well, Chuck's job would
remain a mystery now. When Scout got home for the day,
he kicked off his shoes and heated up a plate
of ruffled potato chips with melted string cheese weaved over
top of them. He sat in front of the TV
and scrolled through the streaming apps. There were dozens, so
many choices. It was something that his dad despised for
some reason, always claiming that things were better when streaming
didn't exist. His mom seemed indifferent, usually only caring when
something on TV had to do with plants or propagating
and Mark well, he wasn't the TV guy at all.
He was more of a music bro. He'd sit in
his room all day and all night cranking tunes from
an old CD player their dad passed down to them.
Music club, Scout thought, reaching down to his backpack on
the floor and pulling out the brochure that Phil had
given him at lunch. He flipped through and saw that
there was a music club too, actually, one for playing
and one for talking about it. Scout continued to flip
through the brochure, taking Phil's advice to heart. Join a club,
lock in, and level up above the rest. Kick start
my llure, Scout chuckled to himself. Phil was a strange character,
awkward and dissimilar to anyone else he'd met throughout the day.
The only other one closest to matching Phil's eccentric personality
was Chuck. How did I stumble across the two most
unusual kids in the entire school on the first day,
Scout thought, and we're all friends now. Well. As odd
as Chuck and Phil might have seemed, Scout couldn't help
a smile at the thought of making two friends on
the first day of middle school. That had to have
been some sort of record, As he continued to leave.
Through the pages of the brochure, Scout stopped on one
page in particular, there was a picture of a cartoon
spaceship exploding out of a planet below the m with
the words the astro Nogs Kingstown Middle School Astronomy Club.
Scout couldn't lie to himself. The picture that was photoshopped
together to entice interest in the club was brilliant. It
was like he could actually picture himself flying the spaceship
away from the exploding planet, or at least a barrage
of lasers. Reading through the description, Scout found out that
the Astronogs wouldn't meet on Fridays immediately after school in
the library and was spearheaded by the school's astronomy teacher,
Professor Edward Nogg. Professor Scout wondered why Professor when all
the other teachers began with a mister or missus. Either way,
the teacher's honorary title didn't matter. All that mattered was
if the club would live up to the image and
the brochure, And on Friday, immediately after school, Scott planned
to find out. The rest of the week seemed to
take forever. Each day it was a carbon copy of
the one that came before it. Chuck was late to
home room each day. Scout's launch was somehow incomplete every
single time, and the stress of the new year and
a new school continued to mount. Scout was just praying
that joining the Astronogs would bring meaning, purpose and excitement
to the school year, not to mention kickstart his lore
otherwise he was ready to just throw in the towel
and pretend to be sick for the rest of it.
Early on set Shrinkle Mules too jam, He'd be ready
to pull out anything he needed to in order to
stay home. But finally Friday arrived and the moment of
truth was about to be revealed. Would the Astronaugs save
Scout's school year or just be another dud to add
to the list. Once the final bell for the day rang,
Scout made his way up to the second floor and
followed a long glass window down to the entrance of
the library. He walked in and went straight to the desk,
where a middle aged woman sat behind a name plate
that said Henrietta. Scout smiled, Hi, I'm looking for mister Nogg.
Henriette looked up from the book she was reading. Her
hair was wild and poofy, and she wore glasses that
sat on the tip of her nose. I mean Professor Nogg,
she corrected him. Sure, Scout said, is this where the
astro nogs meet? Henrietta pointed off to her left without
saying another word. Scout followed her direction and sauntered off
to a small, empty lounge area. He sat down in
one of the chairs and looked around, wondering if he
was even in the right place to begin with. He
looked back at Henrietta, who had already returned to reading
her book. Is this the waiting area, Scout called out.
Henrietta snapped her head toward him and hushed him fiercely,
before slowly looking back down into her book. Scout took
a deep breath. This school was filled with weirdos. He
sat back in his seat and looked off in the
other direction, where he was instantly startled by the appearance
of a man standing in an open doorway along the
side wall of the library. The man was tall and skinny, bawled,
with thick framed glasses on his face, and wore a
long white lab coat that dusted the ground. He pointed
to Scout, are you here for the Astro and Noggs.
The man called out to Scout. Scout only nodded, still
trying to settle his heart from the jump scare of
the man's abrupt, statuesque appearance. Come with me, the man said, pensitantly.
Scout stood up, gripped the strap of his backpack, and
followed the man through the doorway. Once he was inside,
the man closed the door and sat down at a
metallic desk that was lined with small blinking lights. Scout
sat down in the only other chair and examined the room.
He looked at the motivational space posters on the walls,
the Astros Scientists certification certificates framed on the wall with
Professor Edward Nogg's name on them, and then eye the
large metal door behind the desk that looked out of
place and appeared wanted by a digital keypad. Scout nervously swallowed.
Is this a club or a job interview? He asked
as a joke, but also he wasn't so sure. The
tension in the room was as thick as molasses. Whatever
that was, This wasn't how he imagined an after school
club to be. Was there a vetting process, a series
of trials that would determine if you were worthy enough
to discuss stars and nebulas. You're the only one who
signed up, Professor Nogg said, Do you know what that means?
Scout shook his head. It means you were the chosen one.
Scout sat in silence, letting the professor's words sink in.
They seemed epic, but didn't make a whole lot of sense.
It was just an after school club chosen for what.
Scout cautiously inquired, what's your name? No, Ben, asked Scout Brooks. Well,
Scout Brooks, you have been chosen to be an intergalactic
space hero. Scout laughed. At least the professor had a
sense of humor that would hopefully make the club fun.
But as Scout laughed, he noticed the professor didn't. His
face was straight and serious and old. This isn't a joke,
Scout Nogg said, sliding a digital pad across the table,
sign this. From here on out, you were not allowed
to discuss the astronogus with anyone for any reason. Scout
was dumbfounded. This had to have been a joke, either
a joke or a really strange dream. This isn't a dream,
Nog said, or a joke. I'm sure that's what you're thinking.
Can you read my mind? Scout asked, no, not yet,
that'll be next week. Scout had no choice but to
believe that he was indeed in a dream and signed
his name on the digital pad. Nog took it back
and locked in Scout's sloppy signature. Welcome aboard, Nogg said,
leaning down next to the desk, picking up a cardboard
box and setting it down in front of Scout. Within
this box, you'll find your homework study up next Friday,
the Astronoggs will really start to make sense. Time is crucial,
lives are in danger. Could I trust you? Scout nodded,
accepting the box into his hands and expecting to wake
up at any moment. Perfect Nogg said, See you next Friday,
same time, same place. Sure thing, Scout said with a wink,
Knowing his next dream would be something completely different and
probably involve him single handedly winning the World Series or
climbing the world's tallest mountain on rollerblades. He picked up
the box and left Nogg's all office in the rear
of the library. However, on his walk home, as an
early September breeze blew through Kingstown and tickled the fine
blonde hairs on his arms and the back of his neck.
The reality of everything sank in. Scout wasn't dreaming. That
Astronomy Club assessment was as real as the box in
his hand and the mysterious homework contents inside another not
twisted in his stomach. This one was a fair mix
of anxious curiosity and instant regret. Professor Nogg's echoing words
lingered in the back of Scout's head. Time is crucial.
Lives are in danger. Pharaoh must have fallen asleep, because
when he heard the loud, metallic clang of a large door,
he opened his eyes and had momentarily forgotten where he was.
It quickly came back to him as a bright light
shined in on him from above. He was on an
alien place, It far from home. He heard the screeching
roars of his captors above, and then watched as a
shimmering metal chain was lowered down to his level. Descending
down the chair was one of them. This one was
decked out in a full suit of armor, scratched with
strange alien markings and glowing lights. When the hulking figure
faced Pharaoh. He noticed the helmet it wore. It was
heavy duty and gave off a sinister appearance, hiding its
even more grotesque natural face underneath. The creature spoke through
a communicator on the front of its helmet. It reverberated
with robotic tonality. Stand to your feet, earth laying, the
creature commanded. Pharaoh didn't take any chances. He scrambled to
his feet as quickly as he could while still in
his ankle and wrist restraints. The creature then pulled a
separate chain away from the first one and attached it
to Pharaoh's wrist restraints. The creature looked up once Pharaoh
was secured and shouted, paul him up.
Speaker 1: Wait.
Speaker 2: Pharaoh pleaded, where are you taking me? But before he
was able to get an answer, the chain retracted back
up toward the surface and took Pharaoh with it. Felt
the human, the creature said to itself as he watched
Pharaoh disappear out of sight. Your's sacrifice will soon come.
Scout Brooks has just been named the Chosen One, but
chosen for what exactly? Somewhere out among the stars, a
man named Pharaoh sits chained in the dark, waiting for
a rescue he doesn't even know is coming. What's hiding
inside that mysterious box of homework? Will Scout's new friends
ever believe what he stumbled into? And what does Professor
Nag really have planned for one ordinary seventh grader? Find
out next time on Scout Brooks and the Astronougus.
Speaker 1: New Worlds Impossible Missions. Join us next time on this
same frequency from more Adventures from Kingstown and Outer Space
with Scout Brooks and Brooks and the.
Speaker 2: Thank you for listening to part one of the micro
Terror's special presentation of Scout Brooks and the Astronous Assault
on Thrios. Where is Pharaoh? How did he get there?
And what exactly does Professor Nogg have in store for Scout?
Tune in next week for part two. If you can't wait,
you can read the entire book early right now in
the micro Terrorist Fan Club. The book will also release
on Amazon in paperback and kindle formats on August twenty second.
See you next week