The gun was all shiney under the full moon's light.  It was easy to notice and quite hypnotic, such a powerful instrument catching moonbeams in such a way as to be almost romantic.  The man held it out like it was a boquet of flowers in a loving gesture.  The lady on the other end didn't seem to think so, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

And this guy was beholding a gun and attempting to behold the lady's purse.

So I threw myself off the edge of the building and hurled towards the ground.  It was only a six story so the fall took no where near as much time as if I had thrown myself off of, say, Pacific Tower, and it didn't last nearly long enough for me to get the kick ass rush, but it does give me just enough momentum to produce a delightful thud as I landed feet first behind the romantic.

The man weilding the gun spun around all wide eyed and in love and pointed his beautiful instrument of affection in my general direction (no, not THAT instrument, you sicko).  And, as lovely as the gesture was, I simply was not in the mood that evening.

So I kicked the guy in the nuts.

See, the ideal lasting effect of such a move is that every time this guy thinks about mugging he'll have a pain in his balls.

That and every time he watches television and there's something about President George W. Bush he'll have a pain in his balls as well.

On account of my Bush mask and all.

You'd think I was a Democrat, making all these people hurt when they think about President Bush.

Bush43
Issue #1
"Shock The Monkey"
by Jason S. Kenney

He knew there would be pain, but he never imagined it would be as bad as it was.

His back tightened and arced as the pain forced its way through his body.  He would scream if he could, but after hours of cries his throat was dry and voice hoarse, his screams coming out more like gasps than anything audible.  His legs spasmed again, kicking around the contents of a table he had knocked over earlier in the evening.  His head shook, his arms flailed, everything pulled, pushed, his body reacting to the toxins in its system and adapting.

The toxins in his system reacting to his body, changing things.

Suddenly his back loosened, his arms and legs stilled, his head rested on the floor and he sighed, lying there, waiting for the next wave to arrive, hoping he'd live through the night.

Run and jump!  WOO!

The best part about this hero gig isn't the fame and it isn't the fortune and it isn't the women (though that's a damn close second).  No, it's the freedom of having the whole city as your playground.  Really.

There I was running along the rooftops, jumping across alleys, running into things, laughing about the whole deal, having a hell of a time, just me and my Bush mask in my Sunday best.

And to think, if Millennium Man hadn't had gone nuts and torn that Finnegan guy a new one a month back I might not have been doing this.

Or maybe I would have.

I mean, not everyone wakes up one morning to find themselves invulnerable to physical harm and super strong.  What was I to do with that kinda power?  Professional wrestling?

And with double-M going nutso and then disappearing on Pacific City, it seemed to me that there was an opening that needed to be filled.

Not that I'm on par with Mr. Man, oh no, that guy's HUGE and way more powerful than me.  Just that, well, you know, someone's gotta be doing something, right?

So, I decided to do test things out and give the super hero gig a try.

So, as I said, the best part is the freedom of jumping around.  Because all that other stuff, the money, the women, the fame, all of that?

Yeah, it's a bunch of bullshit.

Really.

I mean, the media makes these guys out to be the greatest most bestest things in the world and we all sit there and watch our televisions and read our magazines and the tell all books and think "WOW!  This guy must be loaded and getting laid ALL the damn time!"

And it's just not so.  Well, not that I've noticed.  And, yeah, I've only been doing this two weeks, but all I've gotten so far is next to no sleep, a quarter I found stuck to a piece of gum on the sidewalk, shot at four times, three different shoes thrown at me by three different women from three different windows on three different nights, rotten food tossed at me, a crowd of innocents booing me and all other heroes like me, a monster headache from all the caffiene in me from trying to be up for 20 hours a day and a body that screams at me every time I move.

Man, with benefits like that...

What a job, right?

So I run and jump and feel all happy and I really wish I didn't have this mask on so I could feel the wind on my face, but I have to protect my identity, that's part of the whole super hero mantra.  And this suit is not very good for running and jumping in.  It took me a week to resign myself to wearing sneakers instead of dress shoes because the dress shoes had absolutely NO traction and I'd slide and fall on my ass every time I tried to stop.  Now I was considering the removal of the suit as well, but then I would look less and less like President Bush and more like some guy running around in a Holloween mask.

Besides, I look pretty sharp in a suit.  And I have to look good for the media.

Whenever they decide to grace me with their attention.

Stupid media.  So obsessed with the missing Millennium Man and rising crime rate (which would be higher if it weren't for me, thank you very much) that they didn't even bother to look up and see a new protector for their fair city.

I think there was a letter to the editor about me in the Pacific Times last week, but it was pretty vague and bitchy and certainly not in favor of me, so please, let's not bring that up ever again.

Anyways, me, roof, running, jumping, enjoying myself.  Yeah.

More fun than beating up baddies.

He opened his eyes and looked around.  It had been at least an hour since his last outburst, since the last wave hit him.  And while it was harder and longer than the others, he felt some definite changes with it, some definite progress.

Despite his body's protests, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around.  His lab table was on its side, the beakers and instruments broken and strewn around, a result of one of the spasms.  The rest of his basement apartment looked the same as it always did.  Clean, organized, pristine, perfect.

He smiled and nodded at the mess, taking a little satisfaction in the first step of his rebellion.

Neat and proper Simon Cooper had begun his transformation.  No more mister nice guy.  No more mister push around.  No more mister brainiac, though, he'd keep the mind, but that's not what people would notice about him now.

No, now he'd start some trouble and make them pay, make them ALL pay.

Assuming it worked.

Cooper pushed himself to his feet and stretched as he stood up.  He then bent over and picked up the syringe he had stuck himself with hours ago.  He looked at the little bit of liquid remaining and smiled.

"Save you for later," he said, using his free hand to turn his lab table upright and setting the syringe in the center of the table.

He then realized he was hungry and looked at the clock on the far wall.

Three in the morning.

He nodded and smiled as fate dealt him a prime opportunity for dining and the testing of his new found powers.

Man, running and jumping and fighting and all that good stuff really makes a super duper hero hungry, you know?  I checked my watch and noticed it was three in the morning, though, I didn't really need to look.  It was late and absolutly nothing was open but the 24 hour Pacific Diner, which had three convienient locations throughout Pacific City.

I threw myself down to the ground from eight floors up and decided I was going to land on my back this time, smacking onto the pavement spread eagle and grinning.

Yea, invulnerability.

I leapt up and looked at the neat me shaped hole in the ground and smiled even more.

There were so many of those around the city now that surely someone was bound to notice.  At the very least some nut might think some monster with people shaped feet was stomping around.

I took off my rubber Bush mask which was one of those Holloween costume deals that costs about $50 bucks at a costume store and looks very real.  I looked at it for a bit and then folded it up as best I could and crammed it inside my suit coat.  Sure it bulged a bit, but who cares.

And I walked the two more blocks to Pacific Diner.

Simon Cooper walked into the diner and smiled.  Skeleton crew for the early morning shift and only three customers.  He mentally figured about six people in the building besides himself, two waitresses, the cook in the back, some elderly couple and some guy who looked quite nuts sitting at the counter talking to himself.

What a wonderful crowd to test on.

"Smoking or non?" asked one of the waitresses.

"Non, please," Cooper responded with a smile.

The waitress grabbed a menu and walked Cooper to a booth behind the old couple.  He sat so he could see the rest of the people in the diner and wait.

"My name's Cindy, I'll be your waitress," the waitress said, handing Cooper his menu.  As Cooper grabbed it he made sure the tip of his index finger touched the waitress's hand, which she pulled back as soon as contact.  "Ouch!" she said, looking to her hand.

"Oh, sorry," said Cooper, "I get all staticy."

"That's alright," she said with a forced smirk, and then she took his order for coffee and walked away.

Cooper smiled and watched the people in the diner, planning.

I walked into the diner and smiled as I smelled the fresh coffee.  Ah, coffee, much needed coffee, sweet nectar of the gods...

"Hi, smoking or non?" asked the waitress who eyed me because I'm damn good looking.

"Doesn't matter," I said, being all smooth and suave because I am.

She walked me to a booth behind some skinny nerdy looking guy who eyed me all weird as I walked by (probably because I'm damn good looking).

"My name's Cindy and I'll be your waitress," the waitress said as I sat with my back to the nerd and she set my menu on the table.  "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Coffee, please, and lots of it."

She smiled at me because she wanted me, turned and walked away, probably giving her butt and extra wiggle because I'm a playah.

Yeah.

"Fuck," whispered Simon Cooper as he tried to glance over his shoulder to the guy seated behind him.  Damn, a variable.  It wouldn't have been a problem if the damn waitress had seated the guy infront of him, but, no, she had to put this new guy behind him, out of his sight.

Damn.

The Cooper grinned as he thought of an ingenious plan.

The waitress Cindy came by with Cooper's coffee and set it on his table.  "I'll be right back for your order," she said, and Cooper just smiled to her.  Then she walked to the guy behind him and gave him his coffee.

And then the wench started to take the other guy's order FIRST!

"DAMNABLE WHRORE!" thought Cooper.  "I was here first, I'm always around first, but, no...  I'll show them."

Cooper turned in his seat.

"Excuse me," he said, interrupting the guy giving the waitress his order.  Cooper mentally grumbled as he saw the other man's face, he was obviously trying to flirt with the waitress.  One of THOSE people.  "I'm sorry, would you mind if I borrowed a couple packs of sugar?"

The other man smiled.  "Sure, as long as you give them back."  And then he laughed at his own joke and the waitress laughed too.  Cooper smiled and though of the many ways his revenge would be sweet.

The man grabbed a couple packets of sugar and handed them to Cooper.  Right as Cooper grabbed the sugar their hands touched.

"OW!" I said, pulling my hand away and dropping the packets of sugar on the floor.  The nerdy looking guy's smile widened and looked more natural than before.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, "I'm all staticy, I guess."

"Sure," I said as the guy still stared at me.  And then he leapt out of his chair and put both of his hands on my face.

Oh, man, did that sting.

I suddenly flashed back to being three years old and behind the couch in the den, sticking my fingers in the electrical socket just to see what would happen.

Only this time it was on my face.

I reached up and pushed the guy back, not realizing how much power I put into the push and tossing him half way across the room.  He stumbled into a chair and fell backwards, everyone turning to look at him and then to me and then back to him as he started to laugh.

I reached into my suit coat as he leapt to his feet.

"Now I'll show you," he screamed as he raised his hands into the air.  "I'll show you all who's to be laughed at and mocked and made fun of!  I'll give you Mister...  What are you doing?"

I looked up from fumbling with my mask as I realized he was talking to me.

"Oh," I said, "don't mind me, keep going.  You'll give me Mister..."

"Yeah!" he shouted.  "I'll give you Mister Nice Guy!  Prepare to feel the wrath of Staticy!"

I slipped my mask on.

"And I'll give you Mister President!"  I leaped up and onto my seat, striking a kick ass pose for all to see.  "Prepare to feel the cold grip of justice delivered by Bush43!"

I think I need to cut that intro down a wee bit.

The waitress Cindy must have been awed by my greatness because she passed out right there while everyone else was completely stunned by my presence and speachless.

Except for the geek.

Who decided to laugh.

Simon Cooper couldn't help it.  Here was some guy in a suit wearing a George W. Bush mask striking a pose like some super hero.

Cooper gasped for air as he laughed.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" he said, laughing and pointing at the moron in the mask.  "A superhero?  Oh, Mister President, don't hurt me!"

And then the guy in the mask leapt at Cooper.

***

How dare he laugh at me?  He must be taught a lesson!

I leapt off the bench and onto the floor, grabbing the guy who then grabbed my shoulders, shocking me.  I quickly tossed him to the side.  He landed on a table and slid across, tipping the table and a few chairs and falling to the floor.

"Ha!" he said, leaping to his feet again.  "You can't fight me!  When you touch me you get shocked!"

"No shit," I said, shaking off the tingling sensation.

"I'm more powerful than you, I'm more powerful than any of you!" shouted the guy, pointing at everyone in the room.

"Actually, I think the old guy there could kick your ass, Stacy" I said, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder at the old couple still sitting in the booth watching us.

"It's STATICY!"

"HEY!"  I turned around to see some big guy coming out of the kitchen with an apron on and a hair net on his head.  Must have been the cook.  "Get out of here, you nuts!"

Nuts?  Plural?

"Wait a minute," I started to protest, but just then the nerdy guy leapt at me again.

Simon Cooper took advantage of his foe turning his back on him and leapt.  He grabbed the Bush guy by the arms and pulled him close, bear hugging him, alowing electricity to flow into the moron in the mask.

And he laughed as he was about to defeat his first foe, the first one to fall, the first one of many.

He'd show them all.

And then the Bush guy jumped up and then leaned back, landing on top of Cooper as they landed hard on the floor.

***

I rolled off the geek and away from him, trying not to get shocked.  That sucked.  I had to put this guy down quick, before someone really got hurt, like the defenseless waitresses and old people and the silly cook who thought he could handle the situation.  I stood up as the other guy did and he streatched a bit and held his back.

"That hurt," he said with a whine and then he came at me again.

But I was ready this time.

Simon Cooper stopped in midairand doubled over as the guy in the Bush mask kicked him in the nuts.

I watched Stacy fall to the ground and smiled.

"That's what I thought," I said.  And then my head perked up at the sound of sirens.  Ah, some astute citizen must have called the cops!

I ran towards the door and stoped with it halfway open, turning back to the diner that lay a mess from my recent encounter.  I looked at my defeated foe and smiled.

"No need to thank me, good people," I said to the people in the diner who all looked at me, "just doing my duty!"

And then I was off.

"And then these morons started fighting each other and just tearing the place up.  They're lucky as hell I didn't come out there with my bat."

"Well, thank you, Mister Reynolds.  For those of you just joining us, we have just spoken with Pete Reynolds, cook at the Pacific Diner at 34th and Easterly Street here in Pacific City where a fight broke out early this morning between two seemingly super powered people.  Three police were slightly injured during the apprehension of one perpetrator, a Simon Cooper, who is now in police custody and has been taken to Alhazred Asylum for study after showing the ability to produce minor shocks.  The second man, who witnesses described as a man in a suit wearing a rubber Geroge W. Bush costume mask, is still at large and wanted in connection to the destruction of private property and disorderly conduct.  The Pacific City Police Department is asking anyone with any information to contact them through the tip hotline..."

Pacific Times, city section, page eight, one paragraph.  And they don't even mention my name.  Christ, who's a man gotta fight to get some coverage around here!

And now I'm wanted by the police?  I saved those people.

Stacy.  What kind of a villian name is that?

Sigh.

So, yeah, the jumping and the running and the rooftop thing?  Very fun.  No one wants you arrested for that.  Not usually.

Sigh.