“Competition.”
I became aware of the man standing beside me, saying one of those declarations intended for any open ear. One of those one word statements just begging for someone to say:
“Oh?”
He turned to me and smiled.
I noticed his bodysuit, light blue.
He offered me his hand, I shook it.
“The name is Flightplan, and I've just arrived here in KC. The Dakotas were too small a pond for me, there was only one supervillain left between the two states, and truth be told, the police became quite adept at besting him. No more of that for me. There is plenty more work for a superhero to do in KC than in the Dakotas combined.”
I grew tense, why had he said competition? I was wearing street clothes, I was Steven Long.
Something closely related to water rallied beneath my skin, coming together and pushing out.
Sweat reached the surface by the time he pointed. He spoke again.
The gesture lead my gaze to the nearest of TGFB's television screens.
News. The bottom of the screen read 'The Captain Awakes.'
A man with a powerful build, lively blue eyes and a crazy red and white striped costume walked out of a column-fronted building, flanked by uniformed soldiers.
The man walked to a throng of excited reporters.
I knew who the man was.
Captain Samuel Quinton Clemente, the first successful superhero in American history.
He pledged his heroism to the war efforts in 1917.
All Americans know the name by the time they're seven.
All non-home schooled Americans know of his exploits by the time they get to the end of high school.
Mister Breedlove taught us about him back when I was in his Non-Western World History class back when I was in 10th or 11th grade.
Captain Clemente defeated countless wolfmen and zombie soldiers of the German army.
He bested Germany's supersoldier, Iron Cross, in a best of three falls wrestling match.
Sam thwarted the Ottoman attempt to create cyborg, mind-controlled, underfed bears.
He even managed to catch Gavrilo Princip, and upon interrogating him determined that Archduke Franz Ferdinand was not dead, but involved in a very complex case of insurance fraud. After discovering Ferdinand alive, all parties agreed to come to a peace and the armistice was signed November 11, 1918.
Ferdinand was greatly embarrassed by the incident. He grew despondent as his debts were no longer settled and the insurance company reclaimed the money from his estate.
While the Archduke awaited criminal charges for the fraud he sought out the Spear of Destiny and Leonardo da Vinci's Talisman of Power.
Drawing power from the two relics, Franz Ferdinand hunted down the celebrating Captain Clemente and did battle with him. There was a great deal of collateral damage. Fruit stands and bistros did fall, so too did Captain Clemente.
Only by the combined forces of the Allies and Central powers was Franz Ferdinand finally stopped.
All common knowledge.
The Captain was awake.
It was well known that the Captain had an incredibly slow healing factor. After laying in a bed for more than 80 years he was finally up and running. No scars, as good as new and still in his early twenties by the look of him.
He arrived at the mics after much exposition on my part.
“Today I fully recover from my injuries sustained by the Archduke, and I want to pickup where I left off. I will return to my superheroing duties immediately. After consulting with some people in the military I've decided to return to my hometown of Kansas City. There is much good to do there.”
Then reporters frenzied.
Flightplan spoke again, “See, competition.”
“How did you know?”
“It wasn't showing live, they've been showing that all day. I'm excited. I'm bound to run into him in my heroing around this town.”
“Why are you called Flightplan?”
“Well, I can fly, but it really takes it out of me. Have you ever flown by your own power?”
He grinned.
I shrugged, “Nope.”
“Trust me when I tell you, it is exhausting. If I fly for a couple of minutes I have to eat a huge meal to replenish the calories. If I fly top speed for half an hour, I usually have to take a three hour nap. I call myself Flightplan because I have to plan out all my flying. Actually that is what I'm doing here now at Thank Goodness for Burgers, I'm hoping they can swing a hero a deal. I could eat almost anywhere in Dakota for free. After I get the ball rolling on the heroing it won't be hard, all the places will fall in line, but until then it'll tough. I'm waiting for the manager now.”
I said it was good to meet him, even though I didn't think that was completely true.
I walked to the front of the store and was a bit shocked.
There was a department store on fire right there, I turned and looked to Flightplan, who anticipated my question.
“I saved three people, now I have to eat!”
I looked around for a place to change, where Flightplan wouldn't figure it out, but didn't find a place. I went to my car, unnoticed and changed to Cow Defender and charged at the blaze, but there was a man already in control of the situation.
Kneeling and pointing his arms at the conflagration, I couldn't see his hands as huge jets of water were bursting from his sleeves. A hose ran between the nearest fire hydrant and the underside of his jacket. The fire was clearly no match for him. News people were starting to arrive.
From my angle I examined the man. A construction hat, a policeman's jacket, fireman pants and steel-toed boots. A chiseled jaw line, a dimple and a five o' clock shadow. When the fire was vanquished the hose detached from the hydrant and retreated to within his policeman jacket. He walked toward one of those big, loud motorcycles, but was intercepted by members of the press.
“Who are you?”
“You can call me Working Man. And I don't have anytime for questions, I have mouths to feed.”
He hopped on his hog and drove off.
I didn't notice the Dodge Dakota as it slammed into me, the press did.
My hip took out its front left headlight and vice versa.
I crumpled to the ground to the side as I rolled through, it'd become by instinct by this point.
“Ow.”
Cameras at attention captured the impact and Flightplan walked over to see if I was alright.
I was.
He apologized, “Sorry man, I'm not used to spontaneous acts of heroism yet. I'm Flightplan, and I'm from the Dakotas...” Etcetera.
The next day I read something to the effect of:
“Hero looks on as hero is struck by car while looking on as Working Man saves building from fire.”
Two pictures clearly demonstrated Working Man's valiant efforts, and my being hit by the SUV as Flightplan was in the background as it hit me.
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