They did all the boring stuff for me already. I realized that when I finally looked at the folder, though I didn’t get it right away. I was too busy being thrown out by security. They tried to carry out Moai too, but that’s easier said than done. I was thrown out the door, and over the next few seconds I was joined by four of casino security. They weren’t in any condition to object, so I went through their pockets for change and wallets.
When Moai did come out, he did so by throwing himself through the glass door, which made me feel a little bit proud. Why were windows invented if not for flying through? Seriously, it’s fun, but you have to avoid being cut up and stabbed by broken shards of glass, the jagged edges cutting into you and shredding your skin and muscles, spilling your vital life’s blood all over the place…but yeah, once you find away around that, it’s a total blast.
Then Torrent drove around the corner in his Hummer, helped us up, and took us back to the motel. Whatever. We already dress up in costumes. If they want to have a multiple personality disorder love-hate relationship with me, then who am I to object?
The police hadn’t touched anything and I was able to convince them that my friend in the Moai suit was preparing for a gig dressed as the Kool-Aid man and got a bit carried away.
They weren’t the type to remain skeptics when their health was on the line, so they skedaddled fairly soon afterward, allowing me to march up to the front desk and request another room. They gave it to me cheap, on account of I smacked the guy’s head into the water cooler over and over again going “Bonk! Bonk! Bonk! Bonk!”
I figured I’d tie up those loose ends from that whole encounter with Torrent and Ouroboros and wrecking my room, because I realized I left that out last time. Obviously some aspects of my life don’t make it onto here with my limited ability to communicate it all to you.
On to the good stuff. I got myself some information on this Black Raptor guy. Wears a black and red costume with a pair of mechanical wings on the back of it that allow him to fly somehow. That’s just one of the many things about superheroes that you don’t ask about unless you want to make a physicist cry and contemplate suicide. I considered doing something like that once, but the guy didn’t come through with the money up front. I don’t take kindly to not being paid, but I didn’t want to let Stephen Hawking off that easily. Thus began the dance-off.
If you’re reading this, other-dimensional versions of Stephen Hawking, know this…my loss will be avenged! I swear it! You can’t bust phat moves in that chair thingy forever!
They really gave me everything I needed for this guy, though. Lots of zeroes in a bank account and an address. Real name is Will Robinson, if you can believe that. I checked in on him during the day.
You can get away with almost anything during the day. Ouroboros wears black. Torrent wears black. Black Raptor wears black. For being in one of the hottest parts of the country during summer, they wear a lot of black around here. I have some darker colors on my armor, but I also have air conditioning. I bet they feel like tough sons of bitches now, having to hose down their armor and get treated for heat stroke every time they get into a fight during daylight hours.
As you’d expect, they don’t bother doing a lot in the day. Those robbers and that teeny-villain-bopper that one day were exceptions. Checked up on him over the internet. You’ll want an empty mouth for this part. His name is Red White and Blue Boy. They can’t all start out as winners.
Aside from Black and Blue Boy, I can spend my days how I want. First step, recon. I went in my armor because na na na na, I can keep it cool in this thing. Turns out bird boy’s house is in the suburbs outside of ParadiseCity in some unincorporated area called Pace. When I got there, it was six o’clock and the family was sitting down to dinner. Husband, wife, and two little girls. I thought I was going to have a problem telling which one was Will, but Ouroboros included a photo. Turns out it was the dad. Important note to remember: Will is a male name.
Another note I took down, courtesy of a text file in my augmented reality, was that I already lost a few options for making his life a living hell. He had a wife. Poor son of a bitch. And look at that, kids. Not one kid, two kids! Seeing as I don’t have time to arrange a third kid for him, I can’t take this in the extreme direction. Gives me an idea, though.
He’s got it pretty hard already, but a deal’s a deal. We’ll start with his home and give him something else to think about that messes with his head. Freaks him out. Something that distracts him while he’s busy chasing down the superpowered criminal underworld. After that, I should shitcan his civilian identity or his crime-fighting career. I’ll figure out the rest as I go along. It’s a really laid back plan.
I didn’t do anything then and there. Instead, I waited. I was there when he got ready to go on patrol and went into his study. Moving around the bookcases revealed the existence of the hidden costume and equipment. Turns out his chest is fake. Yep. It’s amazing what you find out by watching a man dress.
The suit is sculpted to look more buff than he really is. It serves the purpose of hiding the exoskeleton he uses. It’s pretty bare-bones, useful for increasing his strength, but carrying no protection or weaponry. The wings were connected to it, so it must do a really good job on the wings. It fit into the grooves of his outer costume, except for the wings of course, and the mask fit on it. The metal claws fit into the back of his hand and on top of the feet of the suit to serve as his talons.
His air of professionalism was thwarted, however, as he opened up a large window in the study and snuck out that way so he could go fly off. There you go, big guy. Go sneak out of the house to fight supervillains, because if your wife finds out you’re sneaking out, she’ll give you a real beatdown.
Good for her. Maybe I can send Venus her way to deliver a few pointers. They’re hunting dogs, so they can help find her husband without making a lot of noise. Oh, and I suppose if anyone knows how to teach the fine art of man-manhandling, Venus can. That sounded dirty. I meant that Venus really knows how to nail a guy. With a punch. Ok, let me try and put this delicately. Venus is good at laying men out on the ground and making them not want to get up.
She’s going to hurt me for that. She’s going to know somehow and she’ll show up out of nowhere and hit me. She’ll be all like “Hey Gecko!” Bitchslap!
While superhero daddy was away, I was left, a poor lone supervillain in alone at night in a house with his sleeping wife and daughters.
First thing’s first. Chair stacking. It has something to do with poltergeists, which appear to be a type of ghost that only haunts homes where people obsessed with ghosts live. I’m not saying ghosts and undead beings don’t exist. I’m just saying that the ones I know have better things to do than swing doors shut late at night. I know that one because I had to pee about 2 am this one time and walked in on one of them in the bathroom.
The sight wasn’t as bad as the smell. Seriously, it smelled like something died in there.
Thinking about that at the time reminded me that I needed to use the toilet, so I headed to the hall bathroom and left them an upper decker.
I don’t remember eating corn.
After washing my hands, because I’m not a filthy animal, I figured I’d check out what was in the fridge. Looks like they’re trying to eat healthy in here. Ah, fuck it, this part of the job I’m going to the kids’ school to steal cakes meant for a fundraiser. I tossed them all in the garbage.
That’s right. Screw your eyesight, kiddos, because I left your carrots to rot. The squash? I squished it! I broke the eggplant to make a few omelets. Yeah. The spinach is speaking Spanish now! I don’t even know what that was supposed to imply, but you try coming up with something evil to do with spinach besides feed it to people. I didn’t expect to have to answer a lot of questions about spinach. I guess nobody expects the spinach inquisition. I threw a cucumber away too. I’m done being cute over vegetables.
Not much else to do after that on this trip, since it was all kind of improvised. I turned the living TV on and left it on static. Then it was off to the girls’ rooms. I picked the one with the night light on in it. Maybe she was scared of the dark? I suppose the appearance of a clown standing in the corner of the room by the window wouldn’t help matters like that. It was boring waiting on her to wake up, so I hunted down a thunderclap sound and played a little bit of it.
I saw her peek her little head up off the pillow and spot me. Her eyes went wide and she hid under the covers. When she peeked again, she was relieved to see the clown was no longer in the corner, staring at her bed.
Now it was laying on the floor next to her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Is it mean that I kind of enjoyed scaring the crap out of her like that?
Well, you didn’t come here to read about me volunteering at a hospital.
I disappeared about as soon as she screamed. I snuck out when her mom ran in to the side of her daughter’s bed, cradling her and asking what the matter was. “And who left the TV on?”
A flash of inspiration struck me when I saw the open door to the parents’ bedroom across the house. I went and found that cucumber. I quickly rifled through the kitchen looking for oil, leaving all the cabinets open in the process. When I found the vegetable oil, I poured a bunch of it on the cucumber and hurried to the master bedroom where I stuck it halfway underneath the bed on the side of the bed where the covers hadn’t been thrown off suddenly in the last few minutes. Also, that Fifty Shades of Grey book being on the other side was a giveaway.
It gave me an idea. I’m sure I’d get a ton of readers if I tied up that woman, beat her, and raped her, right? No? Ok, then stop reading Fifty Shades of Grey. I can understand BDSM, but even people running around in gimp outfits recognize that “She enjoyed it” doesn’t make it any less rapey. It’s true. I asked this one sub, right after I whipped him on the ass with one of those horse switch thingies, of course, and then gave him permission to speak. He said they ought to call that abominable crap 1950s Shades of Grey.
Now if you’ll excuse me, back to my morally superior scaring of little girls in their bed at night.
I grabbed a page out of it, looked around, and found a pen. That was lucky. All these pockets and not one pen. At one time I had a pencil, but I used it in a magic trick.
I summoned the mother to her room by playing the sound of a grandfather clock striking the hour. That probably freaked her out when she realized they didn’t have a grandfather clock. And it wasn’t on the hour. And all the kitchen cabinets were open. And there was a mysterious slick substance on the floor.
Then she got to see a large cucumber oiled up and sticking halfway under her husband’s side of the bed, with a note nearby that read “Jenni 867-5309”. I think then she realized her husband wasn’t anywhere in the house.
Like a cherry on top of what I did, Raptor’s going to get a marital arts beatdown when he gets home.
Dammit, that reminds me of something I missed in that trip. Next time I go I have to remember to stomp all their fruit too.