Ricky pulled out the last book off his top shelf. He cringed at the memories that came flooding back as he looked at the cover.

The Monstrous Manual. A gift from a teacher in fourth grade. She'd made a big show of how it was for his good behavior at the time. All it did was get him called a teacher's pet, a goody-two-shoes, and later, a nerd, a weirdo, and so on.

The cover didn't even try to hide what it was about. The big red "Dungeons and Dragons" label above the illustration of fantasy monsters was practically a big neon arrow pointing at him and saying "this freak likes pretending he's a dark elf instead of playing outside!" for all the world to see.

Ricky went to put it in the box marked "FOR DONATION," then hesitated.

As dorky as it was, he still had some good memories with it. Spending hours reading through all the descriptions, stealing ideas from it for writing class, looking at the drawings over and over again. He couldn't just give it away. It had been one of his prized possessions for years, even if he'd lost interest in the game.

Ricky dropped the Monstrous Manual into the "BOOKS" box. It was an even mix of books, tapes, comics, and more, but he didn't see the point in writing all that on it.

Ricky brushed the dust off his sweatshirt & baggy brown pants. He looked around his barren, soon-to-be-former room, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders now that everything was neatly sorted into boxes.

Tomorrow, the moving trucks would load up all of his family's stuff. He'd leave his tens of thousands of Creeps here under Wart's supervision while he, Brenda, David, and Jared all moved out to different towns to turn more people into Creeps. That was the plan. It was exciting to think that the Creeps' presence on Earth was growing so quickly that they were already branching out to other towns.

But it was exciting on a more personal level, too. Digging through all of his old stuff really brought into focus how drastically he had changed in the past few months. He was too busy sorting all of his stuff for the move to celebrate, but a few days ago had been the one year anniversary of that fateful school bake sale, the one that changed his life forever.

And for the better, Ricky thought proudly.

He'd gone from a nerdy, friendless, unremarkable wimp to a powerful Commander with thousands of Creeps at his beck and call, and four friends that would do anything for him. It was a steep learning curve, but he felt like he'd finally gotten the hang of it. He could give orders and speeches to crowds, and his knees would barely shake. Jared, David, Brenda, and Wart never questioned him, and when they did, it was easy to compromise and keep them content. Transforming into a Creep felt as natural to him as stretching.

Hunger gnawed at Ricky's stomach, breaking him out of his thoughts. It must've taken longer to go through his bookshelves than he'd thought.

He walked out of his bedroom and bounded down the stairs.

"Mooooom, Daaad," Ricky called out.

Neither of them turned to look at him. Maybe the TV was so loud his parents hadn't heard him.

They were watching the Weather Channel, as per usual. It was a goofy commercial set in a tavern full of weather enthusiasts. It sounded like a bar fight was gonna break out because someone insulted rain.

"Mom!" Ricky yelled over the thunder coming from the TV.

They both flinched and turned to look at him.

"What is it, Ricky?" Mom asked, a tired smile on her face. "Did you finish putting away all your things?"

"Yeah. Can one of you guys make me a snack while I call up Brenda and the others? I just need to make sure everything's okay one last time."

"There's plenty of leftovers you can nuke," Dad suggested with a smirk. Mom looked at Dad with wide eyes, shaking her head at him so subtly that Ricky almost didn't see it.

Ricky frowned. "I don't want leftovers, those are all old and clammy. I mean a sandwich or some cheese and crackers, something like that."

"Those sound easy to make," Dad said, turning to look back at the TV. "Why don't you make a snack for yourself?"

Mom pushed herself off the couch. "It's fine, Ricky, I'll make you a-"

"No, Mom," Ricky said, narrowing his eyes at Dad. "Sit back down."

Mom obeyed and dropped back onto the couch. She watched helplessly as Dad slumped forward, putting his elbows on his knees. He dug his fingers into his dark hair, hiding his eyes. Ricky wasn't sure if it was from fear or annoyance.

"Dad, get up and make me a sandwich."

Dad's entire body tensed. He tugged at his hair and grimaced. It looked like he was trying to ground himself against some oncoming storm, digging his feet into the floor through his socks.

Mom looked between Ricky and Dad like she was a caged animal as Dad struggled.

Ricky could hear Dad's breathing steadily get louder from across the den, going from deep breaths to hissed, seething groans like he was in pain.

Ricky sighed. Why did Dad always have to make things difficult?

"As your Commander-"

Dad lurched up from the couch with a final groan and sped into the kitchen. Ricky stepped aside to let him walk past, and smiled to himself as he watched his dad take out a plate and some bread.

"Bring it up to my room when you're done," Ricky ordered. "And maybe dial back the attitude? That sounds easy to do," he added, copying the smirk his dad had before.

Dad turned to flash him a big, forced grin before going back to making the sandwich.

Ricky glanced at his mom. She was staring straight ahead at the TV, not looking at either of them. Rigid and drawn up like a toy.

Ricky stepped over to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Mom drew away from him and looked at his hand like it was a gun before she relaxed. She gently put a hand on his and gave him a soft, sweet, big-eyed smile that was the picture of gratefulness.

Ricky returned the expression, then went back to the stairs, and he saw her smile vanish the second she thought he wasn't looking. He decided not to think about that.

"Oh, and Dad?" Ricky called out halfway up the stairs. "Do it well. Don't just put in one slice of cheese and call that a sandwich. And I want it toasted."

"Yes, Commander," Dad droned. It sounded flat and dead like most Creeps did when they had to follow orders.

Fine by me.

Ricky went back upstairs and into his room.

He didn't like having to pull rank like that. It felt ugly. It wasn't like they were his slaves or anything.

Well, technically, they were, but he didn't like thinking of it that way.

Mom fell into the new dynamic so well, and Ricky never had to compel her to follow orders. Sure, she always seemed terrified by the fact that she had to do whatever he said, but aside from that, their relationship hadn't changed. Ricky still loved her, and he tried his best to make her forget the whole Commander thing when he could. He could tell she wanted to forget, too.

Dad just didn't want to accept that things had changed and he wasn't in charge anymore. Neither of them were. It hurt so much the first time Ricky had to bring him into line, even though it was such a small command.

"Change the channel to MTV."

It still hurt to think about. He wasn't sure if his dad had actually teared up as he raised the remote control to switch off from the Weather Channel, or if he had just imagined it.

But he had to admit, it only got funnier and funnier over time. A grown man starting to cry over having to watch music videos?

A grin formed on Ricky's face at the thought, then he felt bad about grinning and pushed it down.

Ricky flopped onto his bed and pulled off his sneakers. On his nightstand, he'd left his planner with his four friends' phone numbers written inside. Wart was up first.

As Ricky dialed the number, he wondered what his sixth grade self would think of him now. Having power over your parents was everyone's dream to some extent, right? Coupled with the steady stream of cash from the new tax imposed on the all-Creep town, the loyal friends, the confidence, the strength and speed that came with a Creep form, the promised promotion if he could Creep out all of Earth... he couldn't see any real downsides.

I'd probably think that this was all too good to be true, Ricky thought as the line rang.

Things have gotten very different around here.

And I love it!