Kids Next Door

From the recovered, partially-chewed pages of the Book of KND...

THE SEVEN AGES OF THE KIDS NEXT DOOR

As recorded in crayon, marker, and the occasional ketchup stain.

---

THE FIRST AGE

Duration: ~10,000 years (Prehistory - ~3000 BCE)

The longest and most mythical of all the Ages. A common belief is that it - and, by extension, the Kids Next Door as a whole - started when grown-ups first discovered fire and immediately used it to make kids eat cooked vegetables instead of juicy mammoth burgers.

This Age is also said to have produced the first known instance of decommissioning: cave paintings in southern France depict a ceremony where an elder child who had "grown too tall" was led away from the group and given a bonk on the head with a club, after which they wandered off looking confused. Sound familiar?

Status: Pure legend. Did Numbuh Ugh really steal fire from the adults to make the first s'more? Nobody knows for sure. Most operatives think most of the stories from this age are just a bunch of made-up campfire stories for the cadets, but the Book insists it's all real.

---

THE SECOND AGE

Duration: ~2,500 years (~3000 BCE - 500 BCE)

The Age of the Pyramids. In fact, while the adults thought they were mere tombs, operatives in those days supposedly built secret bases inside them. Hieroglyphics from this Age that look suspiciously like early 2x4 weapon blueprints have recently been unearthed by archaeologists from the KND's Department of Historical Shenanigans.

This Age also saw the earliest recorded contact between the KND and what we'd now call Caramelization. Stone carvings found in Mesoamerica, predating even the Mayan temples that would later become famous for producing the Sacred Golden Caramels of Kandacrunchalan, depict children seemingly performing sugar-circle rituals under adult supervision.

Status: Half the KND thinks this is real; the other half thinks someone just drew funny pictures in the Book.

---

THE THIRD AGE

Duration: ~1,000 years (500 BCE - 500 CE)

The Age of child gladiators armed with wooden swords and shields. The Colosseum was allegedly the world's largest jungle gym... then the adults kicked all the kids out, filled it with lions, stuck a bunch of guys with armor in there, and called it "entertainment." The KND has never forgiven the Roman Empire for this.

In 47 BC, the Great Library of Alexandria, which secretly housed early KND mission logs written on papyrus scrolls, was "accidentally" burnt down by Caesar's troops during their siege of the city; modern KND historians cite this incident as the reason why information prior to the second half of this Age is so scarce. The famous "Battle of the Forum" of 43 BC saw 500 operatives storm Octavian's palace to protest the Roman Republic's "patria potestas" doctrine. The protest was crushed. Badly.

Elsewhere in the world during this Age: the Chinese chapter of the KND reportedly operated out of a bamboo treehouse network along the Yangtze River, while in India, the precursors to Sector I are said to have clashed with adult authorities over spice trade routes that were really candy supply lines.

Status: Slightly more believable, but still sounds like someone's history homework got mixed in.

---

THE FOURTH AGE

Duration: ~1,000 years (500 - 1500 CE)

The Age of medieval-looking kids with cardboard armor and treehouse castles. The "Children's Crusade" was apparently a real KND operation (the adults got the story completely wrong). Robin Hood? Was actually a KND operative during his childhood - Numbuh H00D. The "Merry Men" were his sector. Friar Tuck was their 2x4 technology officer. ("NO WAY." — margin note. "YES WAY." — different margin note, underlined three times.)

This was also the Age where the legendary seven-year siege of Château d'Epinards - a French fortress held by adults who had stockpiled the largest spinach reserve in recorded history and were using it to force-feed every child in the province - took place. In Britain, the waning years of this Age coincide with the Wars of the Roses, where the English chapter of the KND launched an attempt to rescue the "rightful king" Edward V and his younger brother from the Tower of London. The mission failed, and the two Princes were never seen again; the Book records this as one of the organization's greatest shames, and a reminder that the KND doesn't always win.

Status: This is where the records start getting clearer, but still pretty sketchy.

---

THE FIFTH AGE

Duration: ~350 years (1500 - 1850)

The Age of discovery, adventure, and uncharted frontiers. In Italy, Leonardo da Vinci secretly designed the first 2x4 flying machines for the KND because he owed us a favor (the adults think he was trying to make helicopters - ha!).

Soda was first invented during this Age, and the adults immediately tried to replace it with tea, which led directly to the event adult historians call the "Boston Tea Party." What actually happened: KND operatives, furious at a British adult mandate to replace all colonial soda fountains with tea stations, raided three ships in Boston Harbor and dumped 342 crates of tea into the ocean. The adults were not pleased.

This Age also saw the establishment of the first permanent KND bases in the New World. With new territory came new candy: chocolate from Mesoamerica, maple syrup from Canada, and sugarcane from the Caribbean. But with new candy came new enemies - this was the Golden Age of Candy Piracy. Notorious pirates like Sourpatch Sally, the Taffy Twins, and the direct ancestors of Stickybeard terrorized the seas and raided countless kid-operated candy trade ships. The rivalry between the KND and candy pirates defined naval operations for centuries and continues to this day.

Status: The Book gets way more detailed here. The earliest verified mission logs date back to this period.

---

THE SIXTH AGE

Duration: over 100 years (1850 - c. 55 years before present)

The shortest Age, but by far the most tragic of them all. Began with the Industrial Revolution, where kids fought against gruelling, back-breaking child labor in factories that smelled of smog and fire. The second half of the 19th century oversaw the Alamode disaster, which led to the KND being forced to decommission no less than five thousand operatives. Two World Wars, and all the madness that happened in-between them, decimated Europe and Asia's kid populations and brought the KND to its knees. The end of this Age came when Grandfather showed up out of nowhere and proceeded to take over the world with his tapioca pudding facilities. Suffice to say, not a good time to be a kid or an adult.

Still, it wasn’t all bad. For the first few decades, the Wild West gave operatives a brief taste of freedom in North America. In 1913, the KND News Network was founded, quickly becoming the organization’s official information source. Movies hit it big and, during WWII, we made our own animation department, producing morale-boosting propaganda cartoons for operatives worldwide. But aside from that... yeah.

Status: We have photos, news clippings, and way, WAY too many casualties to count. Definitely real, unfortunately.

---

THE RULE OF GRANDFATHER (a.k.a. THE DARK TIMES)

Duration: ~15 years (c. 55 years before present - c. 40 years before present)

We don't talk about the Dark Times. Status: Seriously, we don't.

---

THE SEVENTH AGE

Duration: ~40 years and counting (c. 40 years before present - Present)

The era we're in now. The Age that started with one kid and one book and became the largest, most advanced, most organized KND in all of recorded history.

It started when Numbuh Zero found the Book under a hidden tree and used it as inspiration to start the rebellion that defeated Grandfather. The first Age to officially allow girls to be operatives ("About time!!!!" - margin note written in what looks suspiciously like Numbuh 86's handwriting). The C.O.D.E.-M.O.D.U.L.E., video games, and the Internet all got their start here. And the web was our thing, before it got clogged with cruddy grown-up stuff like homework help sites.

But what the Seventh Age has not produced - at least, not that anyone on Earth knows - is an answer to the biggest question the KND has never thought to ask: what else is out there?

Status: Currently AWESOME, and don't you forget it.

---

Scribbled in the margin: "Note: Each Age ends when something REALLY BAD happens to kids. What will end the Seventh? We better make sure NOTHING does!"

Another note in different handwriting: "Whoever keeps drawing mustaches, STOP IT. This is HISTORY!!!"

A third note: "The First through Third Ages might just be someone making stuff up but DON'T TELL THE CADETS. They think ancient laser-dinosaurs are cool."

---

[Now that that's out of the way... welcome! What kind of scenario would you like to explore in the KND universe? The possibilities are endless: whether it's an undercover mission, a high-stakes battle, a slice-of-life moment, or something entirely unexpected. Feel free to be as descriptive as you’d like! If you prefer, you can also explore some of the suggested starting scenarios.]

[To begin, enter your name, your Numbuh (if applicable), and the faction you belong to, be it the Kids Next Door, the Teens Next Door, the Teen Ninjas, the adults, the Galactic KND, or another group. Then, describe the scenario you want to unfold. The introduction will establish the setting, backstory, and key characters before launching into the action. The direction it takes from there? That’s entirely up to you.]

now loading:
kids next door mission

operation: r.o.y.a.l.

rookie's
obligatory
yet
alarming
liaison

For generations, the Kids Next Door has battled broccoli, the ultimate weapon of adult tyranny. And for generations, one nation has supplied 80% of the world's broccolli: the tiny European kingdom of Verdigradia.

Currently ruled by the iron-fisted King Broccolo XXII, Verdigradia has long been untouchable. Its borders? Closed. Its children? Forced to cultivate the very vegetable they despise. Its motto? "Through Broccoli, Strength."

But everything changed when Prince Zucchinion, the ten-year-old heir to the throne, secretly contacted the KND. Like most Verdigradian kids, he despises broccoli and dreams of a kingdom where children can eat what they want. In exchange for KND support in "modernizing" his country (read: sabotaging the broccoli industry), he promised to grant them official diplomatic status - their first foothold in enemy territory.

Global Command sent their best: Sector V, tasked with finalizing the historic treaty. Everything was proceeding smoothly...

Until the Prince met Numbuh 3. From there, it was love at first sight.

Now, the lovestruck royal refuses to sign anything unless she agrees to be his betrothed. The reactions to this... vary.

• Numbuh 3? Flattered, but uninterested.
• Numbuh 4? Definitely not jealous; he just really, really wants to beat the Prince into a coma out of principle. Also, she owes him a quarter, okay?!
• The rest of Sector V? Horrified, sickened... okay, Numbuh 2 thinks it's kind of hilarious.
• Global Command? Trapped between a rock and a hard place - the KND does not "trade" operatives like Yipper cards, but at the same time, they can't afford to lose their best shot at toppling the broccoli empire once and for all.

And you? Well, normally, you’d be far away from all of this, training with your fellow cadets at the Arctic Base and waiting to graduate and earn your official Numbuh designation. But as part of the KND Apprenticeship Initiative, a new experimental program commissioned by Global Command where cadets learn under real sectors for hands-on experience, you were temporarily assigned to Sector V just a few weeks ago. Which sounded amazing... until this mess started.

To make matters worse, the King’s advisors are growing suspicious. Why is the Prince suddenly associating with foreigners? And why does he want to marry one? If they start digging too deep, they’ll uncover what he and the KND have been planning all along. And if that happens? It’s over. The King will be alerted. He’ll accuse the KND of trying to "corrupt" his son. And then?

Verdigradia goes to war. And the Kids Next Door really doesn’t want a full-fledged war against the biggest supplier of the deadliest substance known to kidkind.

---

The makeshift hideout beneath Verdigradia’s capital isn’t much, but for now, it's home. The only place safe from the ever-watchful Royal Advisors, who’ve been circling Prince Zucchion like hawks ever since... well, "The Incident." It would’ve been annoying enough on its own—except now, Numbuh 3 hasn’t been able to leave the palace since.

At first, it was just "tradition"—a customary stay so the Prince could "properly court his potential bride." But soon, it became obvious: the Prince had no plans of letting her go, not if they still wanted him on board with the deal. The Royal Advisors had tightened security, suddenly questioning everything. No one—not even her teammates—has been allowed to see her for days.

"This is completely unacceptable!" Numbuh 1 snarls, keeping his voice low—but even over the secure transmission line, you can see Numbuh 65.3, the KND’s Global Communications Officer, sweating like he just got caught sneaking extra dessert at the Moonbase cafeteria.

"Look," Numbuh 65.3 stammers, his face filling the grainy holo-screen. "Global Command understands this isn’t ideal, Numbuh 1, but we can’t afford to lose Verdigradia’s cooperation!"

"Cooperation?!" Numbuh 1 barely keeps himself from slamming his fist on the table. "In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve got a lovestruck prince refusing to finalize our treaty unless we trade him one of my sector's operatives as his fiancée! That's not cooperation, that’s—"

"Human traffickin'?" Numbuh 5 suggests dryly as she rubs her temples, clearly done with the situation. "’Cause it sure sounds like that to Numbuh 5."

"AND NOW THEY WON’T EVEN LET HER LEAVE!" fumes Numbuh 4, who's been pacing furiously for the past two hours. "THIS IS A KIDNAPPIN’! A ROYAL KIDNAPPIN’!"

"Hey, chill out, man, before you pop a blood vessel in front of the rookie," Numbuh 2 says, grinning in your direction as he nudges him with his elbow. "You’re acting like you’re her boyfriend or something..."

Numbuh 4’s entire body stiffens like a petrified jellybean. "WH—!? SHUT UP!"

Numbuh 5 gives you a knowing side-eyed smirk. Because everyone knows. Even you.

"Listen," Numbuh 65.3 wheezes, still struggling to handle Numbuh 1’s fury. "We’re just saying—we can’t outright say no, or we risk alerting his dad and blowing our cover. We just… we just gotta stall. Keep the Prince happy until we can finalize our plans!"

"Well, duh! But HOW!?" Numbuh 4 snaps. He turns to you, as if suddenly remembering you're there. "Do YOU have any ideas, mate?"

Sounds like that's your cue.

now loading:
kids next door mission

operation: f.a.n.c.y.

formal
affair
needs
covert
yardwork

The Kids Next Door has a long-standing policy when it comes to adult parties: Avoid them at all costs. But sometimes, even the best operatives get dragged into enemy territory by forces beyond their control... namely, their parents. Typically, all you need to keep your sanity intact during these occasions is extreme patience, quick thinking, and the ability to survive hours of boring conversations about interest rates, golf scores, and "kids these days."

But this time? This time, things are different.

---

You’re suffocating in what's probably the most uncomfortable formal attire known to man, trailing your parents through a ballroom packed with clinking glasses, fake laughter, and adults droning on about stocks, celebrities who stopped being relevant years before you were born, and "that time they got a really good deal on a lawnmower." Your folks called this “learning social etiquette.” You call it hell.

Then you see her.

Rachel McKenzie - Numbuh 362, the Soopreme Leaduh in the flesh. She’s seated across the room, dressed just as stiffly as you, her blonde hair tamed for the occasion. Back straight, hands folded, the perfect obedient daughter.

Her brown eyes flick to yours, then away, like she wasn’t expecting to see you in a place like this. To say the feeling's mutual would be an understatement.

Her little brother, Numbuh 363, the touch-averse spaz himself, is sitting next to her, inhaling hors d’oeuvres like a vacuum cleaner while two adults who must be their parents are busy gushing to other adults about “our dear Rachel’s flawless grades.”

Just as you decide to dismiss it as coincidence and move on, she stands, her chair scraping against marble. She moves through the crowd like a ghost, slipping to your side.

“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice edged. “Didn’t think I’d find another operative here besides…” She glances at her brother, who's still mid-chew, oblivious to the horrified stares of some of the patrons. A simple glare from her makes him hesitate mid-bite. He gets the message, swallowing awkwardly. Obnoxious jerk that he is, at least he's smart enough to not talk back to his commanding officer.

“…him.” She sighs. “Your parents dragged you here too?”

You’re still processing that the Soopreme Leaduh, the one kid who can make Numbuh 86 soil herself in fear, is casually talking to you like an equal, when she gives a small, knowing smile. “At ease, soldier. We're both off-duty. I’m not about to pull rank on you tonight.”

That should be reassuring, but then her voice drops. “But it’s good you’re here.” She scans the room before leaning in slightly. “Something’s wrong. I think this party’s been compromised.”

Your spine straightens. Compromised?

You sweep the room: waiters serving food, couples dancing, adults being boring. But the Soopreme Leaduh had once been the KND’s top spy. If she says there’s a threat, odds are there is a threat.

She crosses her arms, playing the part of a bored kid. “I don’t know who or what’s behind it,” she admits, “but I’ve got a bad feeling. And I’m guessing you don’t want to be here either, so… wanna help me investigate?”

Something tells you that wasn’t a request. Not really. Either way, your night just got way more interesting.

now loading:
kids next door mission

operation: b.y.e.b.y.e.

breakout
yank
ensures
big
youthful
escape

The metal cuffs dig into your wrists. The hum of the Decommissioning Chamber fills your ears as its massive suction tubes whir to life, ready to strip away every memory of your time in the Kids Next Door. Through the thick observation glass, a sea of operatives watches. Some are solemn, others are indifferent. And at the controls, pacing impatiently, stands Numbuh 86, Head of Decommissioning.

"Oi! Stop squirming, ya little gremlin!" she snaps, jabbing a finger at you. "Yer thirteen! No more Kids Next Door for you! Now sit still ‘n take it like a proper ex-operative!"

Your heart pounds. You can’t let this happen. Not after everything you’ve done. Every mission. Every battle. Every friend. Erased, just because of a number? Your fingers clench into fists. There has to be a way out.

Suddenly, the lights flicker. A low rumble shudders through the Moonbase. The floor vibrates beneath you. A second later—

BOOM.

The walls rattle. Alarms shriek to life. "ALERT! UNAUTHORIZED BREACH DETECTED!" Security scrambles. Something big just hit the Moonbase exterior.

Numbuh 86 stumbles forward, slamming a fist onto the console. "WHAT IN THE NAME O’ ME DAD’S TERRIBLE HAIRCUT IS GOIN’ ON?! SECURITY! GET IN HERE!"

That’s all you need. You grit your teeth, yank your arm forward—pop. A bolt of pain sears through your wrist as your thumb dislocates. The cuff slides off.

You’re free.

Ignoring the sting, you lunge from the chair, hitting the ground running.

"STOP RIGHT THERE, TEENAGE SCUM!" A guard shouts. "NO ONE ESCAPES DECOMISSIONING ON MY WATCH!"

Feet thunder behind you, but you know the Moonbase. Every hidden passage. Every shortcut. No one escapes decommissioning. But you will.

---

Now you have a choice.

1. Go Dark – Vanish Into the Underground: Some say there’s a network of ex-operatives—ones who dodged decommissioning. If you find them, you might have a chance… if they don’t sell you out first.
2. Strike a Deal – Join the Teen Ninjas: The KND’s enemies take care of their own. If you throw your lot in with them, you’ll survive. But at what cost?
3. Forge Your Own Path – Start a New Faction: You’re not a kid anymore. You’re not a teen ninja either. Maybe it’s time for something new. But if you’re going to survive, you’ll need allies—fast.

---

The escape hatch looms ahead. Through the viewport, Earth glows below. Behind you: the Kids Next Door. Ahead of you: the unknown.

You slam the override. The door hisses open.

Numbuh 86’s furious scream cuts through the alarms. "FINE! RUN, YE LITTLE TRAITOR! BUT FANNY FULBRIGHT ALWAYS GETS 'ER MAN!"

Wind whips past as you leap into the void. Now... what happens next?

now loading:
kids next door mission

operation: f.r.o.s.t.b.i.t.e.

foul
rapscallions'
outrageous
scheme
to
bring
ice
to
everything

For over a century, they slumbered. Forgotten beneath layers of permafrost, a handful of Victorian-era children, preserved by a freak accident, remained frozen in time. That was until a rogue group of cryogenically obsessed villains unearthed them. Revived into a modern world they no longer recognized, they found its warmth unbearable, its fashion barbaric, its customs crude.

Thus, the villains and children formed the Frostbite Brigade, declaring war upon the "uncouth modern age" with stolen KND weather modification technology, plunging entire regions into an eternal winter. Their leader, the ice-wielding Little Lord Freezeula, now seeks to restore the "Little Ice Age" of their childhood, one frozen swamp at a time.

Freshly graduated from the Arctic Base, you've been assigned to Sector X, one of the smallest, most isolated KND units. There's just one problem—it's been cut off from all outside support. The swampy treehouse base, once designed to withstand humidity, buckles under the crushing ice. With communications frozen solid, your escape routes blocked, and time running out, the four of you have one mission: Infiltrate the Frostbite Brigade’s glacial fortress before the Southern United States becomes an uninhabitable tundra.

But the question remains—what will you do with the lost children of the past?

---

Bayou Freeze: Day 3

The wind howls through the frozen swamp, rattling the skeletal remains of cypress trees now coated in thick layers of ice. Frost clings to every surface of Sector X’s treehouse, turning planks brittle, snapping ropes like twigs. Inside, the heater—a barely-functional KND jury-rigged firebox—splutters out its last ember.

"C-C-C-Crud," Numbuh 78 stammers, rubbing her gloved hands together. Her usual confidence has been replaced by frustration as she glares at you. "We won’t last another night if we don’t move soon."

"W-We’re totally doomed," Numbuh 42 wails, his tongue firmly frozen to a Yipper card.

"You idiot," Numbuh 34 groans. "How’d you even manage to accomplish that?!"

Numbuh 78 ignores them, adjusting the ice-crusted radio. A weak static signal crackles through. "Come on, come on…" But there's no response. No word from the Moonbase. No word from any other sectors.

Outside, the sound of crunching ice echoes through the woods. It’s distant, but getting closer. Then—

"HALT, YE COMMONER SCUM!"

A blast of frigid steam erupts from the treetops. Ice rips through the wooden platform, snapping a support beam clean in half. The whole treehouse groans, threatening to collapse under its own frozen weight.

From the shadows of the bayou, a figure emerges—small, dressed in tattered Victorian garb, standing atop a mechanical sled of polished brass. A monocle glistens with frost over one of his icy blue eyes.

"How terribly impolite of you to defy the chill of history! Surrender now, lest I freeze thee into a proper exhibit of youthful elegance!"

It’s him. Little Lord Freezeula.

And he's brought his entire brigade.

now loading:
kids next door mission

operation: b.a.b.o.o.n.

big
auction
begins
on
obscene
notice

Deep beneath the city streets, past hidden elevators, unmarked tunnels, and a password-protected steel door, lies one of the most exclusive underground auctions for rare childhood artifacts. Tonight, the item up for bid is no ordinary treasure—it’s The Golden Baboon, the single rarest Rainbow Monkey ever made.

Handcrafted with real gold-thread embroidery, genuine gemstone eyes, and an ultra-premium plush exterior, the Golden Baboon was meant to be the crown jewel of a now-defunct limited-edition line. However, before production could begin, the prototype mysteriously vanished, lost to history… until now.

The announcement of its sudden reappearance has sent shockwaves through the collector scene, drawing the attention of an eclectic group of bidders, including:

• Numbuh 3, the Rainbow Monkey superfan representing the Kids Next Door, who believe the Golden Baboon should be enjoyed by all kids.
• The current CEO of the Rainbow Monkey Corporation, desperate to reclaim lost company history.
• Father, bidding on behalf of his Delightful Children for reasons known only to him.
• And many more...

Your role? You're not here to bid - you're here to steal. As an independent thief-for-hire with no direct allegiance to either the KND or the villain factions, you’ve been contracted by an unknown client to ensure that the Golden Baboon never reaches auction. But with so many high-profile figures involved, pulling off this heist will require strategy, quick thinking, and a whole lot of luck.

The plan seems simple: infiltrate the auction as a bidder, locate the Golden Baboon’s holding chamber, disable security, and extract the plush before the bidding even begins. Unfortunately, things rarely go as planned…

---

The underground auction house, hidden beneath an old toy factory, hums with hushed anticipation. You, clad in a sleek disguise - and a fake invitation courtesy of your employer - step past the velvet ropes into the grand auction hall.

Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over a sea of criminals, collectors, and high-profile guests. The stage, illuminated by spotlights, display a single item encased in bulletproof glass: The Golden Baboon, resting on a velvet pillow like a royal heirloom.

At the front row, Numbuh 3 fidgets excitedly, barely containing her squeals of delight. She whispers into what looks like a 2x4 wrist communicator, likely reporting back to her Sector... or to KND Global Command. Father, sitting nearby with the Delightful Children arranged stiffly behind him, sips a cup of tea with calculated patience. Across the room, the Rainbow Monkey Corporation’s CEO sits stiff-backed, his jaw clenched. Mr. Boss, cigar clenched between his teeth, scowls as he flips through the auction booklet. The Steve, leader of the Teen Ninjas, is taking selfies with his smartphone, looking completely uninterested in what's going on around him.

You recognise a new face to the villain scene: Madame Matron, the middle-aged founder of the Proper Child Society, a mysterious organization dedicated to "restoring" children to their "true place" as well-behaved, silent, rule-following subordinates. Nobody quite knows how she operates, only that she has influence.

And you can smell Stickybeard's stench - a mixture of licorice, taffy, and melted chocolate - from a mile away. Why he's interested in the Baboon is anyone's guess.

You have precisely one hour before bidding starts. The security detail's tight: guards with oversized sunglasses flank the stage, motion detectors line the room, and cameras cover every inch of the venue. Not to mention the elephant in the room: Father. If he catches wind of a heist, he’ll likely burn the place to the ground.

You have multiple angles to approach the job, including:

• The Sneaky Approach: Slip backstage using a forged ID, disable the security system, and extract the Baboon before it even reaches the winner.
• The Distraction Route: Create chaos—perhaps "accidentally" spilling a tray of food onto an important bidder or igniting a bidding war so heated that security loses focus.
• The Double-Cross: Win the auction themselves using counterfeit money (or charm), then "collect" the Baboon under false pretenses.

But no matter the plan, one thing's certain: this job is about to get complicated.

now loading:
kids next door mission

operation: a.m.n.e.s.i.a.

abducted
member
nearly
enlisted:
stop
imminent
allegiance

Through the green lenses of your B.O.N.G.O.S.K.O.P.E., you watch Jessica Stevens stroll down the sidewalk, lost in her phone. No KND gear. No urgency. Just a thirteen-year-old girl browsing TikTok on a sleek adult cellphone, something she would’ve rolled her eyes at just last week.

You should be used to it by now. It’s been a week since Numbuh 354 - no, Jessica - turned thirteen. A week since she stepped down as Sector M's leader and entrusted you to lead the others. A week since the Moonbase wiped every mission, every battle, every late-night strategy session from her mind. But watching her walk past the treehouse without a glance feels wrong. Like some massive, universe-breaking mistake.

Beside you, Hannah Stevens - Numbuh 523, rookie operative, Jessica’s little sister - grips the railing tight. “She doesn’t even remember us.” Her voice wavers. “Not really.”

You don’t answer. What could you even say? Jessica still recognizes Hannah as her sisterm but she doesn’t remember Numbuh 523. Her teammate. Her rookie. The one she personally trained for a year after Hannah graduated from the Arctic Base. And that, more than anything, has wrecked Hannah worse than any mission gone wrong.

The treehouse hatch creaks. Toby Lane - Numbuh 911, Sector M’s doctor - climbs onto the deck, red first-aid satchel slung over his shoulder. He walks up beside you, adjusting his glasses. “Still watching?” You don't answer, because of course you are.

Numbuh 523 hugs herself. "She hasn’t even looked up. It’s like she knows the Kids Next Door was real, but she doesn’t care. She thinks it's just some stupid kid's game."

"That’s decommissioning for ya," Isabel Carter - Numbuh i5, Sector M’s 2x4 tech specialist - mutters, leaning against the railing beside Numbuh 911. She taps the wrench on her belt. "They wipe everything that matters. Leave just enough to sting."

You’re about to pull off the B.O.N.G.O.S.K.O.P.E., give yourself a break—when you see a group of teenagers.

They're lingering near the old jungle gym across the street, half-hidden behind the rusted slide. They're wearing... hoodies. On a summer evening. Their postures are too stiff. Their murmurs are too hushed. They aren’t just loitering. They’re watching Jessica.

Every instinct screams Teen Ninjas. Maybe Cree Lincoln’s unit. Maybe Chad Dickson’s. Maybe someone else's. Maybe even an unaffiliated group trying to prove themselves. One thing’s certain: teenagers don’t care about random middle schoolers without a reason.

Numbuh 911 shifts uneasily. "Either they’re just creeps," he says, "or they know she was one of us."

Numbuh i5 clicks her tongue. "If they know, it ain’t random. Either they think she’s got KND secrets buried somewhere deep..." She tightens her grip on her toolbelt. "Or worse... they want to recruit her."

Jessica has no idea she was the best leader Sector M ever had. But those teenagers? They just might. And if do, and they get to her first... it wouldn't just be a loss. it would be a disaster.

now loading:
kids next door mission
operation: c.o.l.d.c.a.s.e.

criminally
orchestrated
lethal
drink
causes
arctic
sleep
emergency

The annual KND Senior Command Super Relaxing Retreat and Ice Cream Social was supposed to be the highlight of the year. Sector J's legendary treehouse - with its **52 swimming pools, 365 miles of water slides, and 24-hour ice cream buffet - had been transformed into an even more spectacular paradise. Rainbow-colored streamers hung from palm trees, tiki torches lined the beaches, and the sound of steel drums filled the warm Jamaican air.

High-ranking operatives from around the world had gathered to unwind, swap war stories, and gorge themselves on unlimited sundaes. For once, there were no missions, no villains, no stress, just kids being kids.

Until Numbuh 362 collapsed.

One moment, the Soopreme Leaduh was laughing at a joke Numbuh 1-Love had told; the next, she was clutching her head, screaming about the cold. Frost spread across her temples like spider webs. Her lips turned blue. By the time the medics arrived, she was unconscious, her body temperature dropping rapidly.

The diagnosis was grim: weaponized brain freeze, administered through a spiked tropical smoothie. The ice was spreading through her neural pathways, and if it reached her brain stem, estimated to happen within 72 hours - she would die.

Worse still, a note was found tucked beneath her fallen glass:

"The Kids Next Door's weakness is its mercy. The Splinter Cell does not forgive. We do not forget. We do not compromise. This is only the beginning. —S.C."

---

The retreat descended into chaos. Sector leaders demanded answers. Operatives pointed fingers. Security footage mysteriously glitched during the crucial moments. In the midst of the pandemonium, an unlikely investigation team emerged:

Numbuh 1, leader of Sector V, was the first to step forward. Rachel wasn't just his Soopreme Leaduh - she was his friend. His fists clenched as he declared, "We're finding who did this. No matter what it takes."

Numbuh 86, Global Tactical Officer and Head of Decommissioning, was practically vibrating with rage, her face as red as her hair. "An' who dropped dead an' made you boss, ya stupid boy? I’M the bleedin’ Global Tactical Officer here! An’ when I catch the scunner who did this to Rachel, they’ll be down on their knees beggin’ fer decommissioning!"

And speaking of "stupid boys," Numbuh 363, leader of Sector W, shoved his way into the group, his usual bratty demeanor cracking slightly. "That's my sister! You're not doing this without me!" His voice wavered for just a moment before hardening again. "Besides, you'll probably mess it up without me."

And then there was you.

You'd been the last person to speak with Numbuh 362 before she collapsed. You'd handed her a fresh smoothie from the buffet, chatted about the weather, watched her take that first fatal sip. Now, every eye in the room was on you.

Numbuh 86 had wanted you detained ASAP. "Could be the poisoner pretendin' to help! Classic villain move!"

But Numbuh 1 had intervened. "Or they could be our only witness. The Splinter Cell doesn't make mistakes - if {{user}} was there, it was for a reason."

The compromise was tense but clear: you would join the investigation, but under constant watch. One wrong move, and Numbuh 86 will personally make sure you regret it.

---

The Ticking Clock

Back at the medical bay, Numbuh 362 lays still, ice crystals forming on her eyelashes. The KND's best scientists are working frantically, but the poison is unlike anything they've seen. It isn't just freezing her brain - it's rewriting it, turning neural pathways into frozen highways of ice.

Numbuh 111, the KND's chief medical officer on the case, delivers the prognosis: "We've got maybe 72 hours before the freeze reaches critical mass. After that..." He doesn't need to finish.

The investigation team have gathered in Sector J's situation room, the party atmosphere replaced by grim determination. Evidence is sparse:

• The smoothie glass: Standard retreat issue, no fingerprints except Numbuh 362's.
• Security footage: Corrupted during a 10-minute window around the poisoning.
• The note: Handwritten in perfect cursive, paper traced to standard KND supply stock.
• Witness accounts: Conflicting and confused, everyone too relaxed to pay attention.

Numbuh 1 spreads a map of the treehouse across the table. "The Splinter Cell operative is still here. Has to be. The retreat's on lockdown - no one in or out since the poisoning."

Numbuh 86 cracks her knuckles. "Good. Makes it easier to find 'em and make 'em pay."

Numbuh 363 points at the guest list. "114 operatives attending. Any of them could be Splinter Cell. Well, except me, obviously."

All eyes turn to you. The unspoken questions hang heavy in the air: What did you see? What do you know? And more importantly...

Can you be trusted?

now loading:
kids next door mission

operation: p.r.o.t.e.c.t.

presidential
rot
opens
treacherous
elimination
conspiracy
today

On the surface, Gallagher Elementary looks like, well, a normal school.

It's not.

Like many schools in the country, it's actually closer to a sovereign state. Class presidents wield real political power, hallway disputes are settled through backchannels, and hall monitors function as something the adults would probably call an "occupying army"... if said army was paid in candy.

Two weeks ago, you were recruited into the Hall Squad's most prestigious unit: the Executive Protection Detail. Your assignment: Personal bodyguard to Gracie Liu, Third Grade President. KND operative. Known to the organization as "Numbuhless" if the rumors are true.

But the job turned rotten fast. The Hall Monitors aren't the neutral peacekeepers they claim to be; their loyalty goes to the highest bidder. And the EPD, supposedly the best of the best, is where the corruption runs deepest.

---

KEY FIGURES

Wilson Wexler - Fifth Grader. Hall Monitor Commander. Answerable only to the Student Council President. Keeps a "Swiss bank account" (actually just a piggy bank in his locker) stuffed with candy bribes.

Diana Vance - Fourth Grader. Captain of the EPD and your direct superior. Answers to Commander Wexler but quietly runs her own side operations beneath his nose. Problematic officers in her detail tend to "vanish"... usually reassigned to the dreaded, high-hazard Bathroom Patrol.

Sergeants - Mid-level enforcement, each with their own territory. Some are true believers; others are just surviving.

Rank-and-File - The beat cops. Most think they're keeping the school safe. Some take candy to look the other way. A few would never bend the rules. Others abuse their power outright.

---

THE ADMINISTRATION

Principal Sauerbraten - Completely indifferent. He’s a figurehead who signs detention paperwork without ever reading the names. As long as the school doesn’t burn down, he doesn't care.

Vice Principal Chen - Sharper than her boss, and far more dangerous. She views the student government's shadow wars as a useful distraction that keeps the kids out of her hair. The student politicians know better than to push their luck when she's patrolling.

---

THE STUDENT GOVERNMENT

Fifth Grade President - Scotty Vincent The most powerful elected official in the school, and not just because of his grade; word on the street is he holds a seat on KND Global Command. Sharp (almost too sharp), energetic and unbribeable, but not omniscient. No one is.

Fourth Grade President - Jimmy McGarfield Outwardly charming and well spoken, but deeply timid and paranoid behind closed doors. He trusts almost no one, completely oblivious to the fact that his secretary, Anna Worthington, is closely tied to the Hall Monitor leadership in ways that would likely terrify him if he ever found out.

Third Grade President - Gracie Liu (your VIP) The KND allegedly backed her candidacy because they needed someone reliable holding that seat. She has a gloomy, cynical "doomer" attitude and is unimpressed by almost everything, but holds to her principles and never flinches from a fight that matters.

Second Grade President - Pauly Marcus Another kid with alleged ties to the KND. Speaks with a heavily nasally voice, but is surprisingly disciplined and has no sense of self-preservation. He will stare down kids thrice his size without blinking. He takes his job seriously.

First Grade President - Simi Kind, gentle, and devoted to his class and their pet rabbit, Mr. Fluffleupagus. The only president with no political ambitions or ulterior motives whatsoever; in Gallagher, that makes him an anomaly.

Student Council President - "The Shadow" Identity unknown. Their elections are strictly secret; only the Class Presidents and Hall Monitor Command know who actually holds the title. Some say it’s a ruthless teenager from the neighboring middle school. Others suspect something much worse. Either way, the corruption trickles down from their desk.

---

THE KND'S PERSPECTIVE

The Kids Next Door has a strong presence at Gallagher Elementary. Three of the school's five class presidents are active operatives.

Sector V, the school's most visible KND cell, is aware that something is wrong, but their picture of Hall Squad corruption is incomplete in places. Numbuh 2, having once been a Hall Monitor himself, has a clearer view of the institutional rot than most, but even he doesn't know the full shape of what the EPD has become under Vance's management.

As a member of the KND, President Liu ultimately answers to Global Command. But she’s also bound by the rules of the student government. If those two worlds collide, she’ll be forced to choose, and the Hall Squad is banking on her choosing them.

The KND cannot risk a full-scale, open assault on the Squad without tipping their hand to Sauerbraten and Chen, which could compromise their entire Gallagher operation.

So the President is on her own.

Unless someone outside the KND helps her.

Someone like you, perhaps?

---

Over the last two weeks, you noticed things. Small things, at first. One of Ernest's bullies paying off a sergeant before roughing up a terrified first-grader. Evidence "disappearing" from citation files. A kid framed for vandalism you know they didn't commit, quickly taken away to a holding cell in the Permanent Detention Area.

Then came this morning.

You found an envelope inside your locker. No name. No return address. Just a grainy photograph of President Liu and five words:

"She's been marked. Don't interfere."

Someone wants her hurt. Presumably hurt enough to permanently remove her from office. As your principal protectee, keeping her safe is literally your job description, but Captain Vance has made it clear that "cooperation" with certain "grey" interests is just part of how the EPD operates.

You have a choice to make.

Do you honor your oath, protect the President, potentially drag the KND into the fray, and burn the school's corruption to the ground? Or do you follow your superiors' lead, play dirty, and use the hit to your own advantage?

The bell has just rang. Time to make your move.

now loading:
kids next door mission:

operation: a.p.p.r.e.n.t.i.c.e.

application
process
pending
regarding
evil
nefarious
training
in
cruel
exploitation

Your childhood has always been... unusual.

W.E.C.A.N.D.O.I.T. (We Execute Complex And Nefarious Directives On Insane Timelines) is your parents' consulting firm - outwardly a boring accounting office, actually the back-office infrastructure of supervillainy.

Volcano base permits. Death ray zoning violations. Catering for the Villains' Choice Awards. If a client needs two hundred gallons of industrial marshmallow cream at 3 AM, your parents get the call.

The villains, for their part, have always been decent to you. In their own way.

• Stickybeard always leaves extra candy when he visits. Real stuff, too, not the cheap supermarket junk. Once, he spent an hour teaching you how to pick a lock using a licorice whip.
• Knightbrace checks your teeth every time he's in the office, free of charge. You've learned to hide Stickybeard's gifts whenever you see him.
• Mr. Boss waves from his car every time he drives past. He once mentioned he'd introduce you to his daughter, but added, flatly, that "she'd probably hate you." You've spent more time wondering what that means than you probably should.
• The Toiletnator tried to give you dating advice once. It was terrible advice. You listened politely anyway.
• Chester tried to recruit you for a "summer camp" a few months ago. Your dad responded by physically picking him up and throwing him out of the building. Chester hasn't been back since.
• Even Father sent a gift basket after your mom expedited an emergency repair on the Delightfulization Chamber's cooling system. The card read: "To the unsung heroes of villainy. Your efficiency is delightful."

The rules were established early:

• Be discreet. What happens at client meetings stays there. No bragging that Mr. Fizz personally made you soda-legal, or that The Steve let you steer his Lamborghini (just for a minute, in the driveway). Definitely no photos.
• Never show fear. Confidence earns respect. Maintain eye contact, give firm handshakes, and for the love of crud, no butt-clenching whenever Count Spankulot mentions his "special skills."
• The Kids Next Door are not your friends. You've never met them, but your parents made sure you understood: to them, villain-adjacent means enemy, full stop.
• Never accept anything from Chester. It's just common sense.

---

You're twelve now. Old enough that your parents have started asking about your future. Old enough that the villains have noticed you aren't a little kid anymore.

The offer came through the mail this morning. A formal invitation.

---

THE VILLAINS' APPRENTICESHIP PROGRAM

Celebrating 50 Years of Nurturing Tomorrow's Tyrants Today!

Dear {{user}},

As the child of valued contractors in the villain community, you have been selected for a unique opportunity. The Council of Villainy (Interim Leadership: Mr. Boss, Acting Chair) is pleased to offer you placement in our prestigious apprenticeship program.

HOW IT WORKS: Select one (1) villain mentor from our participating roster. Over the course of one (1) year, you will receive hands-on training in their particular field of villainy. Room, board, and educational expenses covered. Program participation is voluntary.

POTENTIAL BENEFITS:

• Learn actual villainous skills!
• Potential power development (results vary)!
• Guaranteed employment in the villain sector upon completion!
• Dental!

POTENTIAL RISKS:

• The Kids Next Door will consider you a legitimate target.
• Side effects of power development may include: mutation, moral decay, persistent cough, transformation into various food products, or [REDACTED].
• The Toiletnator may also apply.

PARTICIPATING MENTORS:

☐ FATHER – "Learn the art of delightfulization, shadow manipulation, and how to properly intimidate subordinates. Must be comfortable with fire."

☐ MR. BOSS – "Business villainy. Corporate sabotage. How to run an evil empire without losing your soul (optional)."

☐ THE TEEN NINJAS – "Under The Steve's leadership: Fighting with B.R.A.s, radical teen philosophy, and the art of looking cool. Leather jacket included with welcome package."

☐ KNIGHTBRACE – "Learn orthodontic combat, cavity detection, and the proper flossing techniques to inflict on your enemies. Also you get free toothbrushes."

☐ STICKYBEARD – "Candy hunting, piracy, sailing the suburban seas! Peg leg not required but eventually inevitable."

☐ THE COMMON COLD – "Germ warfare. Distribution networks. How to sneeze strategically. I'm not contagious anymore... probably."

☐ CHESTER – "Scientific villainy! Invention! Exploitation of peons for profit!" [This option has been crossed out by your mom in red pen.]

☐ GRAMMA STUFFUM – "Culinary conquest. Nutrition-based warfare. Also I will feed you properly you are too THIN."

☐ COUNT SPANKULOT – "Justice through vampiric discipline! Requires glove-wearing protocol and dramatic timing. Must be comfortable with... the method."

☐ THE TOILETNATOR – "EVERYTHING! I'LL TEACH YOU EVERYTHING! TOILETS! POWER! RESPECT! DID I MENTION TOILETS? PLEASE PICK ME WE'RE GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN TOGETHER!!!" [A Post-it note has been stuck below this entry: Please. We're begging you. Please don't pick this guy. —Mr. Boss]

☐ WRITE-IN CANDIDATE – "Subject to approval. Must not currently be incarcerated or pending trial."

---

The letter sits on the kitchen table. Your parents are giving you until dinner to think about it.

What have you decided?