Challenge #00824-B093: Living in Interesting Times
The kid of the punch-clock hero and villain couple has an interesting life.
Her parents named her Everest. Possibly out of a desire to fit in with the ridiculous names of their gated, elitist community. She shared a school with three Porsche’s, two Kilimanjaro’s, and at least five kids with way too many silent Q’s in their name.
She was waiting for the very day that she was old enough to change her name to something blandly ordinary. Like Elizabeth. Or Mary. Even Kylie would do. She spent random free moments scouring books and magazines for ordinary names.
Mabel was her current favourite. Old-timey and ready for shortening to May. You could get far with a name like May. It was like Spring. Full of optimism and the hope of new things.
All Everest was full of was rocks, snow, and dead bodies.
Her ride on the bus was less eventful than normal. Only ten pretenders attempted to suck up to her in order to get one or both of her parents’ autographs. They vanished quickly enough when they found out she charged the same rates as the fan club.
And the bullies were hardly any better. Calling her ‘stuck up’ when she turned aside the pretenders. Tripping her up or shoving her around as she trod the halls. Daring her superhero mom to come and rescue her.
It was why she ate lunch on the roof with some of the other social rejects. Her few friends. Most of them were on The Spectrum. Everest didn’t mind. The silence was companionable and the sporadic conversations more interesting than hey-can-you-get-me-your-moms-autographs.
And they all had reason to despise the mainstream.
“Aw. Look! It’s the nerd central pity party.”
O great. Quellijana. The queen of the mean girls. Everest sighed her deepest sigh and said, “Go find someone else to annoy, Kelly-anna.”
“It’s pronounced Quellijana. I can hear the difference, you ignorant racist.”
“Whut?” winced Travois. “How in the name of anything is Everest racist?”
“She keeps mispronouncing my name to fit the white oppressors? I’ll have you know I’m part Gaelic, part Viking, and part Inuit on my great-great-grandmother’s side.”
“White enough for me,” said Kilimanjaro. One of the three black kids in the entire school. His skin was so dark that it had a sheen like a peacock’s feather. He was also the resident expert on what was racist. His one trump card.
Quellijana sneered at him. “Huh. That’s reverse racism. I should report you.”
“Sooo…” said Everest. “You’re admitting that racism usually comes from you?”
“Oh go jump off the edge, Everest. Nobody really likes you.”
That was the last straw. “Fine. I will.” One step. Two steps. The third met air.
That’d show her.
She changed her mind halfway down and tensed. She didn’t want to die! Quellijana was not worth killing herself over.
The final crunch at the bottom never came. She could hear people rushing over and babbling. But it was awed babbling.
She was hovering an inch above the sculpted gravel pathway.
Oh boy.
Everest thought, Up, and slowly levitated back to where Quellijana was staring, gape-mouthed, at her new relationship with gravity. “Next time you tell someone to jump off something, Kelly-anna, make sure they won’t actually do it?”
The girl fainted.
Everest stepped calmly back onto the roof as if getting her flight powers was the most normal thing in the world. “Okay. Spuds out. Let’s see who loses and has to drag her to the nurse’s office.”
[Muse food remaining: 13. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]
Challenge #00823-B092: Bad Day at the Office
A Punch-Clock Villain and Hero get married.
“Bye honey have a good day at work” “you too!”
“Muahaha I will destroy Blahtropolis!” “Not if I stop you first also here you forgot your lunch dear.”
[AN: I keep getting reminded of those old looney tunes cartoons with the punch-clock sheepdog and the wolf who looked astonishingly like Wile E. Coyote…]
“Dear… have you seen my hair thingie?”
“Didn’t you put it on the counter, last night?”
“Well if I did, it isn’t there now.”
“Uuuuuuggghhh…” Marvelonia stepped away from breakfast-making to find her beloved’s hair thingie. “I don’t know why you need this, darling. It never looked good.”
“The fans expect it,” sighed Malicia as she put it in. “Its awkward and it scratches and it’s responsible for fifty-four percent of my defeats…”
“Nerd,” she sighed lovingly. “Come on, or the bacon’s going to burn.”
“I’ll get the coffee.”
Everest slumped into her seat at the table.
“Good morning, my greatest creation,” chirped Malicia.
“Y’ say that ‘bout all y’r dumb machines…”
“Your mother’s machines are not dumb,” chided Marvelonia. “And you’re our greatest creation. Unless you’d like a baby sib…”
“O god nooooo…”
“Eggs? Bacon? Toast?” offered Malicia.
“J’st lea’me alone,” grumped Everest.
“She’s at That Age,” whispered Marvelonia. “Just remember, darling. Whichever life path you chose, we’ll love you regardless.”
“Uuuuuuuuuuugggh…” Everest rolled her eyes and slouched her way towards getting a bowl of milk and cereal.
“Here’s your cape. Fresh from the dryer,” chirped Malicia.
“Life’s been so much easier since we decided on wash-and-go super suits.
“And the no-makeup look is so much faster. Loving the self-stick mini-masks.”
Everest moaned in complaint all the way through her share of getting ready for the day.
*
“MWUAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA… And now! With the aid of my greatest creation, I shall take over Herotropolis, and then the woooooorrrllld!“
“Not on my watch, Malicia!”
“Marvelonia! Didn’t you have a runaway train to catch?”
They got to grappling. Super-powered hero against mistress of machines. “That train wasn’t on the schedule today. But I did find that bus full of orphans on time.”
“Damn,” whispered Malicia. “I forgot it was Wednesday. Crap.”
“You always mess things up on Wednesday, damnit,” Marvelonia whispered back.
She cleared her throat and rallied magnificently. “Curses! You failed to fall into my cunning trap!”
“Maybe your traps need a little more work. I’m not so easily distracted as I seem.”
*
“Ooof. Ow. I need three hours in the Healotron and one of your Super Massages.”
“Sorry about the eye, babe.”
“Yeah. I know. It looks great on the front page.“
“You ever think of quitting and living off the proceeds from your patents?”
“Sometimes…” Malicia stretched until her back crackled. “But what would we do for fun?
[Muse food remaining: 15. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]
