A Superhero Love Story
‘That’s why I brought him,’ she said. ‘He’s had a run-in with Brian.’ The Monk sucked in a mouthful of air sharply between his teeth, and Drama Queen pretended to vomit.
‘Not him again,’ said the Queen of Hearts. ‘Christ. That prick needs a good kicking.’
‘Every week,’ said The Educator, shaking his head. ‘Every. Bloody. Week.’ The Real-Life Superheroes looked at Michael expectantly.
‘No I haven’t,’ said Michael. ‘Who’s Brian?’
‘Fat cunt with sunglasses and a cane,’ answered The Monk.
‘Daredevil?’ said Michael. ‘Brian? Are you joking?’
‘Yeah,’ said the Pink Lady. ‘Can you believe it? Tell them what happened.’
‘Wait-wait-wait,’ said The Monk, holding up a finger before Michael could even open his mouth. ‘Hold on.’ The Monk leaned back in his seat and manoeuvred a small plastic bag from beneath his robes.
‘Who’s got a-?’ He looked around the table and used the narrow end of a teaspoon to snort something from the bag. ‘Anyone else?’ The Monk tipped his head back and cleared his throat.
‘Sorry, mate,’ he said, sliding the bag across to Drama Queen. ‘Carry on.’
‘It’s nothing,’ said Michael, embarrassed. ‘It’s just, well, he stole my girlfriend. In front of me. And kicked me out of the SRP convention in front of all his friends.’ Police Man let out a long, low wolf-whistle, and the Queen of Hearts shook his head in disgust.
‘That’s Brian for you,’ he said.
‘We’ve been wanting to teach him a lesson for a while,’ said the Pink Lady. ‘He’s a public menace.’
‘The guy’s an absolute tit,’ said The Educator. ‘The Green Lanterns didn’t even care what decade they came from until Brian started winding them up.’
‘He groped Crimefighter Girl on the train,’ said The Monk. ‘But she couldn’t do anything about it because there were too many people around.’
‘There won’t be now though,’ said the Queen of Hearts, looking at his watch. Michael checked the time on his phone, and saw with a shock that it was almost eleven.
‘If we leave now,’ said The Educator, ‘he’ll be closing up.’
‘All of us?’ said Activist Boy, straightening up in anticipation. Drama Queen shrugged.
‘Why not? Anyone who likes Brian can stay behind.’ The Monk laughed and the Real-Life Superheroes, pushing their chairs back from the table, began getting ready to go. The Pink Lady put on several layers of fuchsia lipstick, and found Michael a mask in the cutlery drawer.
‘Here,’ she said. ‘Wear this.’ Michael looked at the mask. It was shaped like a figure of eight, with a hole for each eye, and an elastic string to hold it round the back of the head.
‘Do I have to?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ snapped The Monk, hustling Michael out of the room. ‘Unless you want to spend the night in jail.’
‘What?’ said Michael. ‘What’s happening? Where are we going?’
‘Don’t scare him,’ said the Pink Lady. ‘Don’t worry, Michael. It’s all perfectly safe. The police like what we do. They respect us.’
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April 23, 2010 at 4:36 pm, James Roome said:
Ha! Fantastic. Very few things can hold my attention for eleven pages, I’m notoriously fickle.