I watched the small tv mounted to the wall above the bar, dread slowly throttling me. Channel 7 news helicopters were circling the carnage below them and providing constant commentary.
I wanted to look away, I wanted to sink the drink sat before me and to climb into the warmth of ignorance, but I couldn't do that though could I?
Mr Perfect, hero of cloud city, was being knocked around like a small child . The super villain Dr Vicious in his power suit was putting on quite the show for the cameras, currently suspending Mr perfect in the air with flows of electricity.
The news reporter said something I wished I had a better answer for, "Where was Utility boy?"
I was contemplating the betrayal I had just committed. I had been there when Vicious had explained everything, how his daughter Jessica, also named Sister Surrender, had the power to influence others with her pheromones.
His daughter removed her mask and I was then starring at my girlfriend and instantly I knew what I'd done. The cookies she'd given me the night before, the same cookies I had given to Mr Perfect to eat.
Mr Perfect whose near limitless strength was caused by his ability to convert food rapidly into muscle a fact I had revealed to Jessica.
Mr Vicious explained it all how he'd developed a drug that would block Mr Perfect power but the only issue was he needed to find a way for him to ingest it.
The worse part of all of it was how Mr Perfect had reacted, I could have understood anger or disappointment, but no he said he forgave me then told me the live on before he'd tossed me high into the air with strength he couldn't afford to waste.
When I landed I had wanted to rush back to help but knew it was pointless, what could I do? Even if I managed to get close enough to attempt a rescue, Jessica, no Sister Surrender, never Jessica to me again, she would tell me to stop and I would, pathetic.
Pathetic boy, the sidekick. If a man who was twenty five still being called boy wasn't bad enough, then a man with superpowers as pathetic as mine surely was.
I couldn't even fantasise a way I could be useful without Mr.Perfect. The ability to morph my body shape, density and size sounded impressive and superhero teams had thought so to until I had shown them.
I could be anything... that was an inanimate object. Once I had tried to change my hair colour, I passed out. Though I could turn into a table. Pathetic and useless until Mr Perfect had told me to become a metal club, Perfect had wielded me with skill and prowess and well that was ten years ago and now I had finally showed my true worth, a pathetic excuse for a man whose first attempt at love in years had resulted in my mentor and the city's hero being incapacitated.
I tossed the drink back, the taste as bitter as I felt and left that place, I couldn't bare to watch Mr Perfect die on tv.
After I'd landed I had text any superhero I had contact details for but upon hearing nothing back and seeing none of them on the news I'd stuffed my phone into a pocket. Now I patted myself down, allowing myself a small shard of hope that they had responded.
I paused outside an electronics shop, the combined tasks of walking and looking for my mobile too much. Someone clearly had an unhealthy obsession with the looney tunes as every single tv in the window was playing a different cartoon. I watched with mild interest as I finally found my phone in an inside pocket, I checked it and pushed down an urges to smash it into the wall.
How can the cities famed hero's ignore that one of their own was facing defeat. How can I ignore it?
I can't.
So what do I do about it? I'm hardy capable of much. My eyes focus on one TV set, showing a wolf looking thing trying to drop a piano onto a big bird. Then on another that cat with the speak impediment trying to get the annoying little canary out of its cage. Then bugs bunny cross dressing.
I look away, hoping inspiration will just fall on me like a tons of bricks.
I smile then flag down the next black cab and tell them to get to the channel 7 news building, he tells me it's on the other side of town, I tell him the closest news building then.
I step out after paying an offensive amount and look at the WGC news building, I shake my head as the neon G flickers then dies from possible embarrassment.
This seems perfect for a pathetic side kick with a pathetic plan, a plan not so crazy it might work but rather so pathetic it might get everyone killed faster.
I check no one is close enough to see me then pull my battered mask from an inside pocket and put it into my head, my uniform I left at my flat when I collected these civilian clothes.
The reflective glass shows my depressive state to me. I enter the building.
"Do you have a helicopter" I say to the middle aged reception so engrossed in her magazine she doesn't look up.
"We have no pilot" she says, then after a moment the oddness of the question dawned on her and she looks up at me, recognised me but still clearly confused.
"Where is the helicopter," I ask
"On the roof,"
Of course it is, not in the underground car park, weird that.
"I need to go to it,"
"I'll call Mr Hughes, he's in charge,"
"Brilliant,"
"Please take a seat,"
I do so, fully aware of how odd this all is. Mr.Perfect would warrant more of a response I was certain, I had seen it.
Mr Hughes comes downstairs, he looks to be a small wet man. He reiterates to me in between sniffing that the helicopter is unusable
I tell him the seriousness of the situation, and that I can pilot it, he finally submits and after ten floors in an elevator, with Hughes explaining how the paper had fallen on hard times I start the helicopter and fly myself and Hughes toward the quarry. The little man insisted on coming despite me warning him of my plan.
Flying at night is certainly more difficult, even more so with no radio to liaise with air traffic control. Somehow I negotiate past the other news and police helicopters and position myself as directly overhead them as best I can. I get up and let Hughes take over control, the helicopter wobbles but he manages to catch it.
"So your going to drop a piano on Mr.Perfect,"
That wasn't the plan at all, but it's not the time for explanations.
"Don't crash," I say then jump from the helicopter.
As I hurtle to the ground, the wind doing its best to freeze my face, I slightly angle and direct my descent.
I see Dr Vicious taunting my mentor.
Somehow he becomes away of me, he looks up and fires a bolt of lighting at me, luck is the only reason I'm not fried to death then it's time.
I shift in shape and size and suddenly a large metal dome smashes into the ground trapping the villain underneath. I allow myself to feel some pride. He'd seen me, he could have moved or struck me down from the sky but somehow I won instead.
I feel an explosion of electricity from underneath me, but the insulated metal I now was simply ignored it.
My senses in object form are hard to describe, but I felt panic when I sensed Sister Surrender walking towards us.
"Well this quite an achievement for you. I'd be harsh to end your victory with a simple word and although I am interested in seeing if my powers would work on you in that form I unfortunately won't get the chance. You have helped me not having to commit Patricide, which is something even my soul couldn't probably bare. I'll go now but come find me when your done here and perhaps I can reward you,"
She then walked away, my focus on her until she was gone.
"Well done," said a battered and bruised Mr Perfect from my other side.
I couldn't respond and he said nothing more as we waited for the police sirens to slowly close in on us. I had won, I was super.
