Cities have their own personalities, seemingly built for their heroes. Flint, Michigan was one considered a grand place, a city of great potential and admired by all. But then…it was abandoned by those that should have helped it. It soon became a shell of its former self, a joke.
Michael Carter shifted the navy green backpack, his strides long as he hurried down the sidewalk. He moved past a crumbling parking garage, police tape warning citizens to stay back. That made sense, considering every 5 minutes a chunk of cement was crash to the sidewalk below.
No one even bothered to blink when that happened.
"How the hell did we end up here, Skeets?" Michael asked, putting the IPod headphones in his ears. The cord disappeared into his bag, where inside Skeets lay hidden, connected and able to communicate with his friend.
"Which here, sir?"
"Huh?" Michael asked, waving his hand at a beggar who was approaching him.
"There are several heres, sir. We ended up here in this time because you decided to travel from the 25th century and become a superhero after you were caught gambling on your own college football games."
"I know that, Skeets."
"Oh, then perhaps you mean how did we end up in this town. As my memory database has recorded, we ended up here because all other Superheroes drove you from their cities after you tried to market a line a superhero sex dolls."
"They don't have any sense of humor." Michael muttered. "And it wasn't like I wasn't going to give them a piece of the action."
"Of course, sir."
Michael shook his head. "I mean, how did we end up here, in this situation?"
"Ah, you are referring to the fact that we are currently broke and considered scum within the hero community. As I stated before, your reputation as a glory-hound is what caused all heroes to turn on you. As for arriving here, if you recall, the city council put an ad on Heroeslist asking for heroes to come to their city and protect the citizens. They offered payment, and you jumped at the chance."
"How was I suppose to know their idea of payment would be McDonald's Bucks?!" Michael complained, pulling on his most recent booklet.
"A sad twist, sir," Skeets said. "On the plus side, you have been eating regularly."
Michael nodded at that. "True…though it is weird to eat actual cows and not the synthetic stuff."
"Synthetic meat will not be produced until the year 2113, sir," Skeets stated. "I have searched for its equivalent, but the closet I have come are hot dogs."
"Wonderful." Michael muttered, entering the McDonalds and pulling out his coupon book. "Can I get a McCafe to go?"
The teen behind the counter looked at the coupon. "This only works on Mondays."
Michael considered this. "You will give me the McCafe." He waved his hand slightly.
"What are you doing?" The teen asked.
"You will give me my drink." Michael repeated.
"Mr. Mancini…help." The teen whimpered.
"Sir, you can not perform the Jedi Mind Trick." Skeets said from the backpack.
Michael grumbled as he pulled out a few crumpled ones and tossed them at the clerk. "Here, take your old fashion paper money and bring me my drink." He rolled his eyes as the teen hurried to fix the coffee. "I swear, its like being in the stone age, Skeets. Paper money, cars that run on the fossil fuels, cigarettes that actually kill you instead of cleaning your lungs…if it weren't for coffee and The Simpsons, I'd shoot myself…oh wait, I can't, because all they have is the old fashion guns with metal bullets!"
Skeets remained quiet as Michael collected his coffee and walked over to one of the booths, choosing to speak only when he was sure his friend was calm. "You seem tense, Michael." Skeets said, the backpack wiggling slightly. "Are you suffering from a chemical imbalance?"
"Why am I tense, Skeets? Why? Could it be because I am stuck in this city where they pay with expired coupons? Or that I have a Korean stereotype for a landlady bitching at me?" Opening the backpack, Michael pointed towards on of the TV screens. "Or maybe that's why!"
On the television a LNN news reporter stood on a hill, the midmorning sky in Metropolis behind her in all its glory. The focus wasn't on the skyscrapers, or the famous Daily Planet building, or even on the Superman monument. Instead, it was on a small blot in the sky, barely visible.
"Today is the day the world has been waiting for, Tom." The woman reported, her clipped British accent already adding prestige to the coverage. "Today is the day that the Justice League of America opens its doors to heroes all over the world, allowing them finally to join what was once the most exclusive club in history.
"As you know, the Justice League normal numbers in about 10 or so members. Joining was a matter of invitation, with the three most famous heroes, Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman, selecting those among them that represented the best in humanity to join them. Heroes like The Flash, Green Arrow, Green Lantern, the Martian Manhunter, Hawkman, and Aquaman have been counted among their ranks.
"But now, the Trinity, the three founding members are known, have personally invited every superhero on Earth and beyond to join. Each on received one of these…" She held up an thick sheet of paper, embossed in simple black, the Justice League logo upon it, "…an official request detailing the when and where for them to show up so that they could enter the headquarters of the league, the legendary Watchtower, to receive their induction into the League.
"Heroes large and small, from local costumed fighters to those known by every schoolchild, have been invited to join, and they are here now to do just that."
"Tell me, Linda, what are those that follow the superhero community saying about this event?" The anchor asked.
"Obviously, they are buzzing about this. Many are calling this the defining moment in time, as we will see this day the largest gathering of superheroes ever known…it stands to be quite impressive. Already, we know that other teams, including the Justice Society of America, the Seven Soldiers of Freedom, and the Teen Titans will be on hand to witness the event…"
Michael crossed his arms, glaring at the television in annoyance. "That's why I am annoyed, Skeets."
"Because…you prefer watching MSNBC to LNN?"
Michael stared at the backpack. "…no, you idiot. I'm annoyed because there is one hero the Justice League forgot to invite: ME!"
"Are you certain, sir…perhaps they will still invite you."
"The damn thing is happening right now!"
Skeets considered this. "The invitation was lost in the mail?"
"They personally came to Guy Gardner's apartment to apologize when his was lost."
"Michael, have you considered that maybe they are exaggerating…not EVERY superhero save you was invited."
"Tom, we have just managed to score an interview with the hero known as Bwana Beast." The reporter said, turning her mic to the bare-chested man wearing only a loincloth, boots and a red mask. "Are you excited today, Bwana Beast?"
"Yo, you best believe it." Bwana Beast said, Bronx accent thick and heavy. "In fact, I'm totally shocked I was picked. I mean…I never really considered myself a hero…all I can do is merge animals together." He pointed to where a rhino with the upper body of an ostrich stood. "That's the Rhinich I made…sweet, huh?"
Michael just stared at the screen, eyes wide.
"Ooooooooohhhh." Skeets said.
&
"I hate them Skeets!" Michael ranted as he walked down a back alley. "I hate every single one of them!"
"Who would that be, sir?" Skeets asked. The robot paused moving about the backpack. "You know sir, my sensors are detecting strong odors from your boots…perhaps we should purchase Odoreaters?"
"Can't, Skeets. Didn't you hear, Superman invited Odereater to join the league. Dr. Pepper, too!" Michael lashed out, kicking a milk crate that sat near the back door of one of the old buildings. "You know…I understand that I'm a bit different then them. Yeah, maybe they can't understand putting a corporate logo on your suit…not that there is one on there anymore…but still, its not like I'm a bad guy!"
Michael stopped, holding out his hands. "I mean, I go out every day, busting my ass to save people! Ordinary people, too! I'm not like those Hero for Hire people I've heard about…who get invited to join the league, too! I don't demand cash to do good deeds, all I do is just stick around to let the press see, then maybe film a commercial. But to hear Supes and Bats talk, you'd think I should live like that nun in India…whatshername."
"Theresa?" Skeets ventured.
"No, the one after her."
"Ah, Sister Britney Spears."
Michael nodded. "Yes, her. Course, I'm wondering about Bats…where does he get those wonderful toys?" He rubbed his chin. "Someone must be paying for all those batarangs…and can you see Wonder Woman slumming it…ha! I bet she lives in a penthouse! Rich bastards have it all, then tell us little people to shove it. Like Ronald Reagan, Skeets, all over again."
Skeets didn't say a word.
"Agreeing with me, Skeets?"
"I merely surprised you know who Ronald Reagan was."
"…sometimes I really hate you." Michael muttered. He was about to say something more, when he suddenly felt the Earth roll under his feet. "…what the…Skeets, earthquakes don't usually happen in Michigan…"
The robot flew from the backpack, hovering above the buildings before zipping down. "Michael, the parking garage is collapsing. Already one wall is down, and more are to follow. The citizens may be hurt."
"Already on it." Michael said, yanking out his boots and visor then ripping his shirt off, revealing the blue star on his chest. "Come on Skeets…lets get to work."