Mr. Bubbles and the Mystery of the Mayan Temple

By Chris W. Sears

Meet Mr. Bubbles in his first adventure as he joins roguish explorer, Norman Grady, in a search for the missing pages of his creator’s lab notebook. Racing against the the crazed scientist, Doomsday Steve, they embark on a frantic dash through mysterious jungles and an ancient temple. What nefarious traps and golden treasures await them inside?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris W. Sears
• Release date: Oct 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781947105003

Chris W. Sears

Hello! I am an author of zany sci-fi, horror, and adventure comedies. I got my big break in first grade with a Mega Man picture book, and haven’t stopped since. My goal is to charm adults into re-living the LOLs of yore. I’m inspired in equal part by 80’s cartoons and my cats. I write to invigorate and entertain.You can find out more about me and my books at www.cwsears.comFor updates, exclusive early access, and a free book, check out www.cwsears.com/newsletter

Book preview

1

Norman Grady ran through the island jungle, holding his satchel under one arm and wondering, again, how he had gotten himself into this mess. Warriors from the local village ran after him, clutching swords and spears and raining arrows through the trees.

Look, I can explain, Grady had said, moments earlier, to the village elder. He recalled the young woman, blushing and wrapped in blankets. I thought we had a connection! I didn’t know she was your daughter!

Chalk one up for language barriers.

Grady’s boot hit a rock and he flew forward. He tumbled down a mud-slicked hillside and hit the ground hard near a babbling brook, face to face with a partially eaten corpse.

Hey there, buddy, he said. A fashionable hat lay on the ground just inches from the dead man’s extended fingers. Tragic.

Grady’s grappling hook had slipped out of his explorer’s satchel. He shoved it back inside and stood up as several arrows stabbed the soil near his ankles. The warriors descended the hill.

Years ago, a fortune cookie had told him that he would step on the soil of many lands. What it hadn’t told him was that he would be chased off each and every one of them by the locals.

Grady continued to run downstream, careful not to slip on the rocks. Arrows whizzed past him as he ran along the bank of the river. He thought of his time with the army during the Great War, except back then it had been bullets. He emerged from the trees. There, not too far from shore, sat his rinky-dink biplane. Ol’ Suzie, thank the lord.

The warriors broke through the line of trees, their swords gleaming in the morning sun. Grady jumped into the river and swam toward the biplane. The villagers shook their fists at him from the shoreline and used what Grady presumed to be lots of swear words, but they didn't enter the water.

Interesting. Maybe they didn’t like getting wet.

A giant crocodile wriggled its way up to the surface. Water rushed off its back like off the top of a submarine.

Grady swam faster. He scrambled up into the pilot's seat and jammed the throttle forward.

The crocodile swam after him, intent on taking out the whole plane, and it gained for a few seconds. Then the plane accelerated and drifted up off the water and into the sky.

Moments later, Grady wiped his brow, took out his journal, and crossed off one of the locations on the list.

Now, where to next?

2

Smells of fire and smoke filled the room that the humans called the laboratory.

Behind the bars of a cage, the creature opened his eyes. He remembered a long dream in which children laughed and rattled tin cans, in which he slept on a hammock and felt the sun on his skin. A blackness in his mind divided those memories from these new ones. Now, he was awake. His days of observing the humans had passed. Starting now, he would process those observations and take action.

The creature evaluated the hinges on his cage, found the weak points in the metal, and kicked at them with his hairy lower limbs. The bars shuddered. The creature adjusted his position and kicked again. The hinges snapped and the door burst open. He was free.

Papers littered the floor of the laboratory. Humans must have been reading through them in a hurry. Looking for something.

A recent memory sparked in his mind. Gunshots. Blood. The smells of rage and fear.

The creature hurried through the laboratory, stepping on the papers. His brain felt huge and so empty that it hurt. He tripped over a composition book. On the cover were the words Dr. Elizabeth Stiles, The Million Dollar Brain Project: June 6, 1935 – March 1, 1936. Humans wrote so many words on the green board, and these were no different. He wanted to keep running, but his head ached so much. He read the words in the book, gathering concepts in his brain like a squirrel gathering nuts. The painful emptiness in his mind began to subside.

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