At the home of Forensic scientist Barry Allen…

Barry Allen woke up, and right from the start he was in a great mood. And what was there not to feel great about? He had a job he loved and was good at, a very attractive girlfriend, and a roof over his head.

The fact that he could easily win a NASCAR tournament without using a car was just a nice bonus.

Yes, this mild-mannered forensic scientist, who was called 'Meticulous Allen' when his friends where feeling particularly eloquent, was in fact the Fastest Man Alive™, also known as the Flash. And right now he was feeling particularly cheery.

He ate his corn flakes as he did every morning. He then began to do his morning workout; twenty minutes on the treadmill, fifty push-ups and fifty sit-ups.

Another lucky thing about Barry Allen was that he was one of those blessed people who actually felt good after working out.

He then took a shower, combed his hair, got dressed, and brushed his teeth, all very precisely and deliberately. Barry Allen never rushed when he could help it. And no, the irony of that did not escape him.

"Who though getting struck by lighting would improve the quality of my life" He thought to himself. "I keep the city safe, the citizens all love me, though I hope the police never stop being annoyed at me for doing their job for them.

"That would mean a real threat had come around, but what are the odds of that"?

He couldn't blame the police department for being a little lackluster, budget cuts and all (ironically, the only department that funding was not cut to was his). "Well enough self-congratulation, time to get to get to work and I mean my real job not my hobby". So, he got in his car, the irony of that not slipping by him either, and drove to work.

Thus far, a typical day.

Thus far.