No More Heroes

There was a time when it felt like an honour to fight crime.

I’ve been in this business for nearly thirty years, and I’ve seen them come and go. I remember when Doctor Mayhem stole the Chrysler building; I fought against the Venusian Lobster Men when they tried to invade Earth to steal its supply of linseed oil. You felt like you were making a difference, righting wrongs.

Today, I defeated a guy whose buttocks detached and doubled as throwing stars. It’s like they’re laughing at the whole thing.

The heroes aren’t much better. I have nothing to do with the current Legion of Justice. I can’t take them seriously when they have members with powers like being able to turn their bodies into aspirin, or control tuna (live or tinned) with their minds.

Some would say I’m no better. I dress as a giant possum and battle evildoers. It’s what I’ve always done; in a more innocent age, it made sense. Left for dead more times than I can remember.

Nowadays, you can’t tell who’s good, who’s bad, and who’s just nuts.

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