Mighty Mike

“Help!” screams a helpless victim. “I’ve been robbed! They took my purse! Police!”

Footsteps thunder down a dark ally.

“He’s getting away,” cries out the victim. “Won’t someone help me?”

With a rush of wind, a man clad in bright spandex drops in front of the helpless victim.

“Fear not, helpless victim,” exclaims spandex. “For it is I, Mighty Mike, here to help you”

Mighty Mike strikes a Mighty Pose.

“What’s your name, victim?” asks Mighty Mike.

“Pete,” says Pete. “How in Jacobs mouth did you drop from that roof?”

“Ha ha-ha,” laughs Mighty Mike. “I am a superhero, my fragile friend. Now tell me about the fiend who made off with your purse.”

“I didn’t really get a good look at him,” says Pete.

“Try,” sooths Mighty Mike’s voice, as he places a hand reassuringly on Pete’s shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll try,” says Pete. “He was a five-foot-nothing weenie with beady eyes, ears like an elephant, and thin angry lips.”

Pete shakes his head, as if clearing out the cobwebs.

“Woah,” says Pete. “Did you just use some kind-ah super-power mind jobber on me?”

“Ha, hah,” laughs Mighty Mike. “Of course I did, for I am Mighty Mike. As for the doer of evil, I’d know that description anywhere. He is none other than Bad Boss, my arch-nemesis.”

Mighty Mike slams his fist into his hand, causing a Mighty shock wave.

“Darn,” yells Mighty Mike. “Bad Boss has plagued me for years, it’s about time I teach him a Mighty lesson.”

“Well, now’s your chance, Mister Henderson,” says a voice behind Mighty Mike. “And if you could please be so kind as to stop narrating everything, that would be great.”

Mike Henderson cleared his throat and put the six inch action figures he was playing with, down on his desk. Mike swiveled in his chair, and looked at the man standing in his cubicle’s entrance. Staring back at Mike, with beady black eyes, was Edward Booth, Mike’s boss.

“How long have you been standing there?” asked Mike.

“My pachyderm-esq ears may have picked up one or two of your little adventures,” said Edward.

“I take it this means…?” questioned Mike.

“This means your little adventures are over,” said Edward. “Pack up your fortress of solis, and be out of the building within the hour, or I’ll have to call security.”

Edward turned, his lips thinner than ever, and left with a HRUMPH of indignation.

Mike picked up the figure of the old man, and began talking to it.

“I swear to you, my petrified pal,” says Mighty Mike. “Mighty Mike will avenge your stolen purse, Pete. Fear not!”

Mike tossed the figures into a box. A head poked around the cubicle’s entrance.

“Sorry about that, Mike” said an old man who resembled the figure Pete. “We're still on for Dragons & Dungeons later, right?”

Mike sighed, and placed the rest of his meager belongings into his box.

“Yeah, Pete,” said Mike. “We're still on. I’ll see you tonight.”

© 2014 Mark Fiske