A man walked into a conclave of super-villains. Actually, he ran; otherwise, his cape wouldn’t have billowed properly. (Billowing, of course, is a major aesthetic consideration for the would-be costumed crime fighter, second only to action figure scale.) Without warning, he sprang into action, shouting “bam,” “thwap” and “zowie” as he punched, kicked and finger-poked his enemies in the face and/or nuts. Soon, the villains were completely subdued and then cumbrously strung upside-down from the rafters for dramatic, if impractical, effect. “Who are you?” they asked in unison, because it sounded cool in a movie trailer once. “I’m Fred Stubenfield,” the man blurted. “No, wait — I mean, I’m the Citizen Sentinel! I’m definitely the Citizen Sentinel, not Fred Stubenfield.” Having heard their adversary’s legal name, the villains cackled with gleeful relish, especially the Mental Note, who noted the flub mentally. This would be the man’s first and only appearance as a superhero; it would also be the story his witness protection handlers liked to tell over a few beers in the city of Plentywood, Montana. (Oh, @#$%, it’s happened again…)
© 2014 Tony Vicory.