Ben ran his hands through his hair, paused in the middle and then began to scratch it. It was not what he thought he would do when he got attacked by junkyard goons, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world as he did it.
He picked the two of them up one in each hand. They struck at him - aiming for his face, his chest, his arms and shoulders and finally the sensitive area below his belt. Ben reacted to the blows with a wide yawn. The man in his right hand looked as if he was about to be eaten by a lion and started scrambling frantically. He went no where of course with his legs off the ground. The other man dropped his weapon of choice, a baseball bat, to the ground and began to mumble apologies.
"You're damn right!" boomed Ben. A part of him began to worry. He was enjoying this far too much. Which meant that he was enjoying it far too much to really worry. And that was in fact what worried him.
"Please let us, go. We'll tell the cops not to come. Tell them it was a misunderstanding" bawled the aggressors turned victims.
"Hmm.. alright" said Ben.
"Really?" asked one while the other let his jaw hang.
"No"
As they bawled in his arms, Ben opened his palms and let them drop to the ground. They fell on their bottoms with a thud and Ben began to laugh. Instead of breaking the tension, the already white with fear men turned an even paler complexion.
"How about this? I let you guys go on one condition."
"You got it man. Name it, absolutely anything."
"Well, first I need one of you to run back to the place that you'll dropped in from and then come back here. This time don't bring a pitchfork or a shotgun. But get me a video camera."
He paused. Everybody glanced at the rifle that lay discarded in the corner. It was as effective on Ben as a water pistolIn what was now becoming signature fashion, Ben scratched his chin and then added. "Well, I got a different kind of shooting in mind now. Heh heh."
"I'll do it" said the first of the two to recover and took partner stood rooted to the spot, gulping five minutes of waiting alone, with no sign of his partner returning, he decided that it was better to strike a conversation than allow Ben to get bored.
"So what's your story, mister?"
"My What?"
"Well, I mean… just that, you out here all by yourself."
"The Main Man doesn't carry a crew with him. I don't like having an entourage." Said Ben. It is mighty comfortable in this new skin, Ben thought to himself.
"By golly.. You're the toughest man we seen out here by far.. I mean, we seen our share o nasty folk, believe me sire. But poke a man with a knife, hit em with wood and pump him full of lead and every one of em does bleed. Not you though." He paused as if he was unsure of continuing.
"The Main Man don't bleed" said Ben, nodding vigorously.
"Do you have a condition or something…Sir.?"
"Yeah. I do. It's called being awesome. I'm as awesome as my Grandpa- uh, I mean, Grand Poobah."
"Beg your pardon?"
"Yeah. That's right" said Ben taking a step towards his listener "The Main Man got a grand Poobah. You got a problem with that?"
Uh-oh, said a tiny voice in Ben's head. Now you've really done it. . You could've just scared the life out of em, kept your mouth shut and walked away.
"Are you sure, you don't have some place you gotta be? Like a number or something? Maybe there's a number or something that we can use..." he said, tentatively reaching for Ben's pocket.
Ben stuck his hand out and flicked his finger... right in the man's face. A second later, the man was screaming out, howling in pain, the blood running thick and heavy down his face.
"Hey man, I'm really sorry!" said Ben, wondering if he really deserved an apology. He had tried to attack Ben with a baseball bat earlier, but Grandpa had taught him better than to hold grudges.
"Look, I just had the wrong idea alright? I thought you'd just go flying back and land on back or something. Ya' know, like they do on tv."
"My dose..." the man wailed. "You broke my dose..."
"I'll make it up to you" said Ben. "I know a guy – specializes in this kind of stuff. He fix you up real good." He specializes in everything, Ben thought to himself, but he found no reason to say that out loud.
"You broke my dose and my blip" the man wailed between sobs as drops of blood fell from his face. It looked gruesome, but Ben found himself chuckling.
"Tell you what – look on the Brightside. At least you don't have to do the chicken dance, like I was gonna make ya. Though this could get a couple of million hits on YouTube by itself."
The man slumped on to the ground, in a pool of self pity.
All of a sudden, Ben heard the sound. The confidence in his manner disappeared. He knew what the sound was. The last time he heard it was when he was the martian manhunter and it signaled that he was going to become a ten year old human again.