Mayor Milford cleared his throat nervously as he tapped Sportacus on the shoulder, “Um, Sportacus? Can I talk to you for a moment?”
Sportacus, who had been doing squats while holding up the ice cream stand, grinned, “Of course, Mayor!” He let the stand drop to the ground, “What did you need?
“I wanted to talk to you about your… activities lately.”
“What do you mean?”
Milford tapped his fingers together, “Well, you’ve been doing push-ups on the roof of town hall, bench pressing multiple benches at once, weeding every garden in town...”
Sportacus frowned, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no!” Milford said quickly, “Not at all. It’s just- we’re worried you’re overworking yourself.”
“Don’t be so nice to him!”
Both Sportacus and the mayor jumped at the sudden new voice. From the other side of the wall beside them, Robbie Rotten popped up. He looked extremely annoyed, glaring at Sportacus.
Milford missed Sportacus’ cheeks turn a faint pink as Robbie went on, “He has done something wrong! This menace has been back flipping over me all week, doing basketball tricks in my face, keeps balancing things on his feet while doing handstands - for some reason!- and I can’t go two feet without him offering to carry me someplace!”
Robbie crossed his arms, “What is wrong with you lately?” He asked finally.
Sportacus opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering, “So, you’re not impressed? Should I— Should I do more? Less?”
Robbie blinked, “Am I impressed that you can lift just about anything and do almost every trick?” He looked away, “Maybe. A little.” Robbie coughed, “But why would you care what I think?”
Sportacus was practically bouncing on his toes at this point. Milford backed away quietly; suddenly, uncomfortably aware that this wasn’t his conversation anymore.