It has been a long time since I have published any stories here. A lot of my more recent work I have been uploading on to my journal on livejournal, username: alpha_centari27. Sorry about leaving a number of my fanfics suspended in animation. I'm still hoping to go back and work on some of them, but we'll see what my muse wants to do.
The week was shaping up to be the week from hell.
It wasn't anything big. It wasn't anything Megamind had done or said in his latest failed plot. In a way he welcomed Megamind's scheming because they had fallen into a fairly scripted routine. In a word it was predictable.
It was a lot of little things that by themselves could be easily forgiven and forgotten about, but when combined together...it was enough to almost push Metro Man over the edge.
The cicadas, big ugly, colorful and very loud insects had emerged out of the ground to complete the last phase of their life cycle: breeding. If Metro Man didn't know any better he would suspect that Scott Manor was built around the epicenter of the sudden swarm of insects. In response he relocated to his underground hideout where there was much greater sound insulation, but he still couldn't sleep. After struggling to get some much needed rest he would turn on the TV and flip through the channels—nothing appealed to him. In passing he came across a few commercials featuring him and he had to do a double take. That's not me… I'm not that much of an airhead. Am I…?He thought to himself. When he woke up he was zapped of energy and running late for patrol.
He didn't feel hungry. Even a juicy burger with fries and a soda tasted bland in his mouth. He may as well be eating flavorless and sugarless gummy candies.
Soon it would be Metro Man Day and the Metro Man Museum would be officially opened. He should have felt happy, but he didn't. He was angry and he didn't know why.
Not once, but twice and in the same day he startled a flock of birds and they crapped all over him. On the same day he responded to a plea for assistance. Turned out that the person in question was a Mother requesting, no demanding that he tell her two small children to clean up their toys. Even by his standards this situation was insane. Without thinking Metro Man turned his back on the woman who yelled at him, saying something along the lines that, he owes it to her, that it is his duty. He just didn't care. "You can do this yourself—you don't need me. You're the parent." After he said that she went berserk screaming to his face and he just stupidly stood there and took it. Even worse he caved to her demands.
All day Tuesday Metro City was subjected to a torrential down pouring of rain. Metro Man was the wealthiest person in all of Metro City and there was no fabric he could buy or have manufactured at his request that proved to be completely waterproof. Every fabric he tried at some point would give out on him and the water would soak through to his skin. For some reason the extra weight of the water made him feel heavy and constricted like someone had put a gold manacle around his neck which was attached to a chain with a boulder the size of the Earth.
Just as bad or even worse the rain would wash out his hair gel that kept his brown locks out of his face. Unfortunately in his line of work he couldn't sit out the day hunkered down somewhere monitoring activities in the city with only his super-hearing. The criminals needed to see him on patrol to make them re-think their activities and the average citizens needed to see him to know that all is safe and secure in their fair city.
Because maintaining a professional appearance is part of his job he made many trips commuting back and forth between his underground hideout and Metro City to dry out his costume or fix his hair. For all his effort it wasn't enough to keep him from looking like a fool in front of the cops when he handed over several petty criminals for arrest. "I guess his hair isn't so perfect." He heard one of the police officers whisper to the other after he left.
By the afternoon Metro City was not only under a cloud of rain, but there was a good chance they would see a show of lightning. After the tart remark from the cop and with the rain not letting up-rather than fight the weather Metro Man decided to accept it and stood poised atop Metro Tower in the thick of the storm.
Sure enough the dark billowing clouds produced a spectacular light show above the city while Metro Man watched with an expression of stoic indifference. Following the path of least resistance more than a few of the bolts struck Metro Man directly, but given his unique anatomy the electricity couldn't penetrate his skin to cause any harm to him. When the storm died down and the clouds subsided he realized that he hadn't escaped the storm completely unscathed. The small gold buttons on his costume had taken the brunt of the assault and were melted in places with rings of scorched fabric surrounding them.
He still couldn't sleep. He still didn't feel hungry despite mindlessly binging on comfort food during the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. It was a wonder that he hadn't noticeably gained any weight.
He knew he had been careless on multiple fronts and wasn't feeling well, but what could he do about it? About any of it? It's not like he could call in sick and take a mental health day. The same questions he had asked himself for years circled in his head without an answer. Who is he? Where did he come from? What were his biological parents like? Was this all life had to offer? How could he get out of being Metro Man while saving face? What would he do if he wasn't Metro Man? How did he get himself into this mess in the first place?
Wednesday was the worse day yet and one of a handful of days he almost lost control during his career as the defender of Metro City.
During his designated lunch hour Metro Man stopped at one of his favorite restaurants and ordered a bacon cheese burger with a side of fries, side of onion rings and a chocolate shake.
Typically if he placed an order for an "unhealthy" lunch entrée he would be met with a few disapproving glares from his adoring public and at the last second amend his selection to coincide with what everyone else thought he should eat. Inhumanely high metabolism or not he would suffer the same as the rest of the populace by counting his calories and watching what he eats. Today he was too out of it too be self-conscious of any real or perceived stares of condemnation.
He also tended to get his lunch to go and would find a secluded place to eat it while his super-speed was engaged, but on a whim he decided to eat his lunch inside and in real time.
Big mistake.
Every eye in the restaurant was on him. Haven't they ever seen a person eat a burger before?He thought raising the burger to his mouth, but changed his mind and started nibbling at his fries. Trying to brush off the attention he flashed a smile bright enough to light up the entire city for a year and said, "as you were. Just eating some lunch."
At some point a group of young men in their late teens confronted him. They chided him on his choice of lunch entrée saying that he was, "setting a bad example."
"Shouldn't you be working right now?" another teen asked.
"He's just as lazy as the donut eating police," he heard another teen snicker.
Metro Man reverted to his banter mode and retorted, "fatty foods can be enjoyed in moderation as part of a balanced diet and regular exercise. And shouldn't all of you be in school right now?" The question shut them up quickly and all but one of them took the initiative to get their stuff and leave. "Aren't you going to join your friends?" Metro Man asked the lone teen that remained.
"Just as soon as I get some lunch," he said swiping Metro Man's lunch tray with his uneaten burger, onion rings and half full basket of fries. The teen only made outside the front door of the diner before Metro Man got to him.
"The lunch tray, now, if you please," he said sternly and impatiently to the teen who wasn't much shorter than him standing at about six feet tall.
"Here you go." The teen said as he started to hand it over to Metro Man before launching the contents of the tray into Metro Man's face and for good measure he stomped on the chocolate shake splattering a spray of brown milk over the lower half of Metro Man's costume. "Oops…my bad," the teen said feigning sincerity. "I dropped it—all over your FACE," he said as he started to laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world. Un-amused with the situation Metro Man merely wicked away the salt, beef juice, and small bits of food from his face. "You should see your face, that look on your face is priceless." He said struggling to remain coherent between chortles and chuckles. To add insult to injury the teen dug out a cell phone and took Metro Man's picture. "Your face is too perfect…" he said admiring his work. Furrowed brows, cheeks slightly puffed, jaw clenched with a thin bottom lip—decidedly based on his concentrated gaze and facial expression Metro Man did not appreciate his sense of humor.
When the teen took the phone away from his face the real Metro Man was staring at him eye to eye with mere inches separating them. "What are you going to do kiss me Metro Homo Man?" He darkly remarked before blowing a puff of air into Metro Man's blue eyes to make him blink—which he didn't.
In one singular moment all the pent up frustrations Metro Man had fought to compartmentalize that had been building up for years blew the top off the bottle he had so desperately tried to stuff them into. Every negative emotion arced through him inwardly transforming him into someone capable of inflicting grave bodily harm without remorse.
"Hey!" The teen yelped as Metro Man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt lifting him a few inches off the ground. "Let go, put me down. I'm sorry," he whined in a panic. "Can't you take a joke?"
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I DO FOR A LIVING!" He said with militant authority.
"Yes…" He whispered.
"How hard and long I work to keep people like you safe?" He said not allowing time for an answer. "How often I am called to respond to petty crimes like littering, battle Megamind so you and everyone else can go on living your life uninterrupted, or assist helpless citizens who cannot do simple things for themselves, they have to have someone else do it for them! I have lasers that can shoot out of my eyes capable of melting metal. I possess X-ray vision allowing me to see through solid objects and human flesh. I can crush cars like tin cans. I can fly around the world and to the outer reaches of Earth's atmosphere without breaking a sweat. My body can withstand electric shock without injury. I have walked across hot molten lava to preserve life and property, saved more than a hundred people from perishing in a plane crash and rescued people from burning buildings. There were so many things I wanted to do with my life, but here I am using my God given powers attending to every need of the city and then some because no one else can. Because without me everything would fall apart." Venting what he needed to say he was afterward eerily calm and composed. "Try to show some respect next time…" he said in a normal speaking tone.
"Ok." The teen said looking at him strangely with a mixture of fear, uncertainty and relief.
"Now clean up this mess and get back to school unless you want to be cited for littering and truancy," he said lowering the teen back to the ground.
"Y-yes, Metro Man."
To be continued...