I saw this link on Reddit (obviously) earlier and had a swift look, my interest obviously piqued at the fact there seemed to be real life superheroes In Real Life. Obviously my natural cynicism – that which would serve me so well as a natural defence in the wilderness – didn’t let me view it as anything more than some stupid bastards dressing up like twerps. But then I started reading.
Surely these fools wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually act as a vigilante and police the streets? Wrong. Ah, but if they were to do that, surely they would need to encase themselves in stab-proof armour, bullet-proof vests and all other manner of protective clothing, rather than just a silly costume? Well, yes – that’s exactly it. But surely they’re all deluded idiots who probably cause more problems than they do good? It would appear that isn’t always the case.
Once again, reading has got the better of me and made me realise my kneejerk (emphasis on ‘jerk’) reactions are often a bit silly.
So it has me thinking, naturally, about what kind of super hero I would be; what would my motivations be? My name? My costume? My calling card? And how short a period of time would pass after I started my quest of superheroics before I died? ANSWERS:
1. My main motivation would be money, though I would be open to other such trades in lieu of cash remuneration. Kittens, mainly. Delicious kittens.
2. My name would, of course, be SUPERIan SUPERDransfield.
3. The costume would be a mix of medieval knight with cyberpunk noir. Basically I’d look like a twat even in the Deus Ex universe.
4. My calling card would be a small rectangular piece of cardboard that would have my phone number on it and the message “this is my phone number, but please don’t call me as I don’t like talking on the phone”.
5. Seven minutes. Including the five minutes it would take to get to the crime scene.