At exactly 9 a.m., the kitchen exploded.

Literally, not metaphorically. In the middle of it all stood eight year old Milo.

"I didn't mean too," he whined, "I don't know how to control it."

Mrs. Parker also known as Fire Girl spoke up.

"We've talked about controlling your anger, Milo. Just because the toast isn't toasting fast enough doesn't mean you can shoot it with you laser eyes."

"What happened?" asked the Annihilator, Milo's father, coming into the room.

"You have to have a talk with your son about controlling his rage," scolded Fire Girl, "We take that out on the superheroes, not kitchen appliances."

"Okay, okay," he mumbled, "I just think it's good for him to exercise his powers is all." Suddenly, two small forms floated into the kitchen, crying. It was the twins, Milly and Tilly, both three years old.

"Food. Food." they said through their tears, then picked up a box of cereal with their minds. They were telekinetics. A very loud noise shook the house for the second time that hour.

"What was that?!" screamed Milo, the twins crying even more. Fire Girl looked outside, and saw one of the superheroes walking toward their house, a cannon on his arm.

"It's time to fight, kids!" she yelled. That stopped the twins crying, and Milo perked up.

"Let's go!!!!!!" he yelled, and they charged outside. The Parkers didn't agree on everything, but one thing they did agree on was that kicking superhero butt was the funniest thing in the history of the world.