🚀 go-pugleaf

Oh dear, what HAVE I done?
<----->
        I listened closely. Was that perhaps a footstep, some armor
clinking? After a while it came again, a little too loud to be merely my
imagination. I creaked one eye open, and gazed about the room. A tiny
little humanoid almost had it's thief's hands on that bejewelled goblet I
obtained last year from a traveling merchant, in exchange for his life. I
moved about just slightly, as if stirring in my sleep, daftly pointing my
nose in his general direction. The fool did not suspect a thing. A quick
inhale, and exhale, a little fire, and *Poof* roast halfling. I certainly
hope I didn't ruin the goblet.

        The Widget #2: "The life of a super hero."

        By Dan Regewitz

<Now that I've taken care of that little something that has nothing to do
with the plot.>
        Last time we left off, Aim Smyth, a homeless person and empowered
individual, had  the rather obvious (and primarily financial) decision, to
become one of society's few, the proud, the marines, I mean the superguy!
(Sappy patriotic music as a truly awesome shadow is shown standing on a
model globe with the background of a buffeting American flag)

        <heavy scratch (like a record player) cutting off music, as we
move to our first real scene>
        The car honked loudly as Aim skipped out of the way. "Stupid city
drivers." he remarked coldly. "Why the heck should I stick my neck out for
this self-serving lot?" he couldn't help but ask himself. Aim contemplated
as he walked down the street.

        It was rather warm and still for a mid-autumn day. The noises of
the city filled his ears, causing it to be even more difficult to think
clearly. The press was gonna give him a thousand if he stepped forward as
the person who saved that baby. If only he could just step forward, take
the money and never get involved again. Something seemed wrong with that.
It was no so much as a moral or ethical wrongness, is more like . . . If
he came forward, Aim would want to keep his true identity secret, so that
people would not be bothering him about it, especially Susan, and Gar.

        Aim looked into the quickie-mart he was passing, feeling a little
hungry. Recalling that he didn't have much of a breakfast this morning,
and perhaps easier thinking will come to a full stomach. Aim walked in,
not noticing, until too late the man in the mask pointing a gun at the
cashier. "Hey you, who just walked in, get your hands where I can see
them, and don't try any heroics OK!" The thief briefly pointed the gun at
him. Aim raised his hands, thinking about how non-perceptive must one be
to NOT realize that there is a robbery going on through a glass door. Aim
debated over what he could do. He could confuse him to Hell(TM) but in his
confusion he might fire shots. This was not really a problem since Aim
believed that he could heal anybody hit, except perhaps Aim himself.

<Friends, if you ever need a definition of hero' check this out.>
        Despite the danger it might place him in Aim decided to risk it.
His hands moved in the confusing pattern he had used only once before. It
is uncertain what happened next, perhaps it was because Aim was in the
robber's peripheral vision, but he was not quite confused enough. It was
like it all happened in slow motion. The only slightly confused masked man
backed away from the counter, and managed to shoot the storekeeper, who
was completely confused by the power. The man then turned to face Aim,
made an effort to aim, and shot a second time. Aim felt a strong hit to
his stomach, as if someone with herculean strength had struck there. He
doubled over in pain trying desperately to grab some air. He thought he
was dead.

        The first thing Aim realized, was that he wasn't bleeding. The
second thing he realized was that the bullet was lodged in the dermal
layer of skin. Needless to say he counted himself VERY lucky. I wonder if
I have some unnoticeable body armor, that would be nice' he thought.
Unfortunately, Aim was still out of breath when these realizations hit
him. The Thief with the gun merely dropped his weapon, and stumbled out
the door, looking a little queasy. After Aim caught his breath he
determined that the storekeeper, who was still lying on the floor behind
the counter with a bullet in his chest, was his primary concern.

        Aim moved behind the counter, and gently placed his hand over the
wound. After only a minute the bleeding stopped immensely, and  a bullet
was mysteriously found placed in the palm of his hand. Aim did not pause
to see if the store keeper needed any additional assistance. He ran out of
the store in hot pursuit of the nauseous criminal <hey try moving fast
when you are sick to your stomach>. He quickly obtained sight of the man,
retching into a nearby garbage can. Then Aim realized, he did not have a
weapon of any sort. He stood there dumbfounded by the situation. The
rather green looking man raised his head out of the trash, and looked at
Aim through droopy eyes. Instinctively Aim just punched him in the jaw,
knocking him unconscious, and possibly breaking his hand in the process.
After he was done making silent screams of objection, he slung the man's
limp form over his shoulder, and carried him back to the door of the
quickie mart. Aim slumped him down in front of the place, tired, and
dejected that enhanced endurance or strength was not on his list of
powers.

<Meanwhile>
        A stream of raw sewage flows through the pipes beneath
"Yet-another-big-city-on-the-east-coast, city" (YABCOTEC). Within the
darkness, somewhere just beyond the light and noises of the city something
festers, and it doesn't smell nice either. A form that is far from human
rests quietly in the moist environment, thinking, yes thinking.

<Meanwhile, in Dr. G's lab>
        "GretingZ my friendZ, I have a job for you." Dr. Generic Germanic
grinned sadistically. Those assembled cringed a little, even Paco, who was
getting used to Dr. G's normal behavior.
"We are going to give out free ZampleZ of thiZ beverage, which I deviZed!"
"Uh, I thought we were gonna hurt people." A rather large man said, taking
after Lenny in _Of_Mice_and_Men.
"You Zee thiZ liquid, iZ highly toxic, in fact in may be the moZt toxic
Zubstance in the world thuZ far. It iZ called, Sima!" The doctor
dramatically presents a bottle of liquid, clear and vaguely resembling
some other beverage that will remain nameless. As the doctor does this,
Paco faints from realizing that the doctor correctly pronounced the s'
sound for the first time in his life.
"We attack thiZ afternoon." Dr. G. Started handing out a case of the
poisonous stuff to each thug Paco had assembled. "Oh, and try not to get
any of this Ztuff on you, and by all meanZ do not drink it!" The doctor
added . . .

<as we fade out into our next scene>
        It almost seemed that fate would not let Aim get out of the heroic
rut <oh, how little does he know>. But let's face it, where is a homeless
guy going to get enough money to get a good spandex suit. A normal one you
could get for nothing, but most heroes seemed to have these costumes that
were super-thin yet protected like a kevlar suit. Aim couldn't afford
anything like that. If he could get that interview, but he would need the
suit before the interview. "Heck why do I even think this stuff thorough."
Aim murmured aloud as he pulled his carcass into the shelter for lunch.

        "Hello Kit, how you holding out?" a voice reached out to him from
behind the counter.
        "Oh, Susan, I'm OK I guess, a little preoccupied, but OK." Aim
responded monotone.
        "I see." She murmured mysteriously. He decided to ignore the
mystery of her remark, and go eat. He was playing with his corn, when this
large man approached.
        "Excuse me sir . . . Um, would you like to try some free Sima?" A
large man asked.
        "Yeah, sure." Aim grabbed a small bottle from his case, and sent
him on his way. A moment later Aim heard a rustling behind him. He paused
with his corn long enough to hear the request . . .
        "Is this seat taken?" Susan asked him. At this point two channels
of thought were going through his head. One was YES! Susan, COOL!', the
other was more like Yeah right? Susan, and you??' Despite this conflict,
he replied . . .
        "No, go ahead." The first thing that crossed his mind after she
sat down was Why is a nice intelligent girl like Sue, doing spending any
time what-so-ever with scum like me?'
        "What is this stuff?" Susan asked, pointing to the small bottle.
        "Um, a free sample of some stuff, Sima' I think it was called." As
Aim told her this, he spotted out of the corner of his eye that Latino
thief he trashed two or three days ago. He was speaking into a CB radio,
and looking at Aim, which didn't make him too comfortable. Aim glanced
about the interior of the cafeteria, and more then just the locals were
present, in fact there were about five or six of those Sima' people. This
seemed awfully suspicious.
        "Really, have you tried it?" Sue asked Him, not sensing his
nervousness, and twisting the cap off the small bottle of clear liquid.
        "No." Aim answered brainlessly, more worried about his
surroundings than what was in his face. Sue lifted the glass and . . .

<Really cheesy ending!>

Will Sue drink the toxic Sima?
Will Aim get a spandex suit?
Why does the author always write intros that have nothing to do with the
rest of the story?
No really, is the author high?
<----->
These questions and more will be answered in future episodes of "The
Widget"
Only on Superguy!
<----->

-From "The Critique of Pure Weirdness"
-Dan (Maniac) R.

Quote of the Week: ". . . Or I'm gonna hafta break ya thumbs."