Get cape, tear cape, die!

Life seriously sucks.
I mean, being midthirties, gay without a boyfriend and still closeted makes it miserable, but being midthirties, gay and closeted with your cape stuck in a traindoor, while said train moves with a hundert miles per hour, ruining your hair and producing stains of cold sweat onto your skinthight superherosuit, while your current archnemesis robs off all the rich assholes inside really makes it suck.
Sometimes I wonder how James Bond keeps up his good image, with all the years he has on his back. But then HE has Dr.Q and Moneypenny and therefore loads of cool cars, weapons, tricks and exploding chewing gums. Not to forget all the special effects.
I only got my fricking cape, that is a hinderance at the best and fatal at the worts, my suit, my weed smoking sister and some superpowers I happen to be born with.
They're not anything special.
Just a bit of flying and conjuring up magic flames.
Wow.
Big deal.
The only superherolike trait I have is my sarcasm.
It's that movie like "send the villian off to hell with a cool sentence" stuff.
Would work perfectly, I gues, if I'd actually managed to beat one of my archnemesis.
It's just that at the age of 34 I'm not in the shape I was fifteen years before.
I'm less muscular. I'm slower, get easily tired, I black out after a few punches of a nruserystandart villian. In short: I'm a total looser.
Luckily there are other heroes out there to defeat the evil. And steal my . And all the articles they could write about me in local and international newspapers. All my attention gone.
Therefore all my pay too, because you either get your money from private sponsors or the pay the superherofundation measures by your sucess rate.
Well and we established that I'm close to zero.
It's actually quite a mystery to myself, how I always manage to get my suits replaced everytime they tear or rip or burn or something similar.
Today, it looks like I'm fairly good off and only gonna have to pay for the dry cleaner to get out that sweat. well and a bit of mudd that flys around. Someone should think that in the 20century a superhero sholuld be able to do his work mudd free. But no, the stuff is wipping around my ears and now my nose even considers it to be something else than mudd. something like cow poo.
I wrinkle my nose and watch my archnemesis 69 with a bored expression.
He's a young guy, probably half my age, and giggles madly while helping himself to golden watches, weddingrings and lollipops he's not too ashamed to take out of toddlers hands.
"Next he's gonna crack the chocolatebar machine", I mutter and oh god. he's seen me.
Appearently I piss him off as much as he does me.
He's that kind of immature teenager who can't stand a remark by anybody being close in age to his father, even if that remark was made in an acustic environment that resembles a thunderstorm.
He couldn't have heard me, so I'm sure that it's just my mouthmovement that put him on edge.
The good thing about it is, that, since he's stomping over, I might be lucky enough to be pulled back into the train.
I smile up at him, when his spotcovered face appeares next to mine.
He's upside down and I can see into his nostrils and don't really want to describe what it is I'm seeing there, but anyway. He sneers at me and I'm happy that we're parted by the window (with me hanging upside down outside the train and he being snuggled up inside) ,'cause when he starts speaking, little droplets appear on the screen.
Plus, I can't hear him.
I'm actually trying to lipread his words, but what I get doesn't make sense ("I'm a big, horny penguin"), so I shrug my shoulers and tap my ears, whilst shaking my head and trying to look apologetic.
That does the job, because I get pulled back in in a quick movment and land partly on an empty seat, partly on a shivering old lady that immdialty graps me around the waist and doesn't let go.
"Ehrm...Mam?", I ask, trying to smile up at her. She just shrieks and faints and I'm still captured in her grip, 'cause somehow her arms didn't go limp. Guess I'm locked in between her old, reumathic bones.
Villian 69 smirks down at me.
"You know that's not how exspected my first hero to be", he said and that smirk just grew wider. "But that's nothing I'm gonna complain about."
"Well, you're pretty good for the first time", I admit.
He blushes a bit and at least I'm still charming. And he hasn't even seen me without that stupid mask that conceals my gorgeous features.
"so, how did you manage?", I ask casually.
"Oh", he starts and I can see that he's one of those overenthusiastic guys who tell you everything. "You know I first got the train schedul from the internet and measured at what time the train woujld be where. Than I decided on a location to enter the train and a time to start the robbery. Then I took the time the police takes to react to the information and pass it on to the superheroes in the area. Then I made a list of the superheroes who would get the news by considering their jobs, eating habits and lovelife. Bribing people close to them I went deeper into their personal life to find out their weaknesses."
"Ah", I say. "And which are mine?"
"Well", he frowns. "Somehow you don't really seem to have a personal life."
I chuckle.
"Yeah. People tell me."
"But I read your fundation reports."
"Which say?"
"That you are a constant looser and appearently your greatest weakness is your cape which tends to gets stuck everywhere, but, opposed to the rest of your suit, never rips. Therefore grabbing you from behind, shoving you out of the window and getting your cape trapped somewhere made my day."
"Genius", I mutter sourly, 'cause hearing the truth is not always nice.
"very much so", he claims and poses a bit, hoping that there are some cameras around.
"So you found nothing about my personal life?", I chit-chat and he takes the bait.
"Not a bit. I mean you got that retarded marijuana sister with her cross dressing store and sometimes you smoke a joint. But other than that. I mean, most of the time you sit around and watch the news program. Not even the pornochannel. You weren't in a relationship since highschool where you went out with a freaky girl that managed to blow up the school on her prom, just because somebody poured a bit of blood over her head-"
"She was a nice girl", I add.
"And you haven't been on a date since."
"Well, it was a bloody experience", I claim. "Very traumatising."
"You got a small share of friends, all more or less close and mostly married to hot women with even hotter sisters, but you don't really care. I can't understand why", he goes on. "That Shannon girl they wanted to set you up with is a fuckable bunny. Could give me her phone number-"
"Don't think so-"
"Or maybe the one of her daugther-"
"Anja?"
"Yeah, Anja."
"What would you want to do with her? Trade magic cards?", I remark sarcastically, since Anja is not a day older than 14.
"Pokemon, actually", he replies.
"Ah."
"Well anyway. I've got you where I want you. I robbed the train. And now I'm gonna go and have a BigMac."
A distant look takes over his face and I hmpf when he starts drooling.
"Sorry", he said. "My parents are vegetarian."
"That must be hard."
"It is."
"So, Toby...ehm...your names Toby?", I ask.
"Danny, actually. Toby's my brother. He got killed by microwaveman last summer."
"So, Danny. How much money did you make?"
"Oh, about 40 dollar", he answers proudly.
"That's cool", I reply and wonder what I'm even doing here. I, mean 40 dollar less can't actually hurt that much.
Therefore I don't really care whe he waves and leaves the train that just pulled into the next station.
The old lady under me begins to stir and slowly releases me.
I thumb to the floor and my ass smile at her. This time she doesn't faint, but looks at me adoringly.
"Have you defeated him", she asks rethorically. And I raise a hand, calming her down.
"It's all right lady. Nobody got harmed."
"So you have it back?", she wailes and extends her hand.
"Have what back?"
"The rainbowmanactiondoll I bought for my grandson. They're so hard to get today."
"Pardon me?"
"Rainbowman. You know, the old superhero. Don't know what he does these days."
I jump up, practically fuming with anger.
That stupid brat stole a rainbowactionmandoll from probably the only rainbowmanfan left in the universe. A big roar escapes my throat and I set of to find that bastard in the next McDonalds Restaurant.
It doesn't take me long to find the teenager munching at one of the many tables.
I tap him on the shoulder and even before he can turn around I let my voice sound to paralyze him.
"Do you want to know", I ask, "why you couldn't find any details about my personal life?"
He slowly nodds, his eyes closed in fear, 'cause my grip around his shoulder is pretty firm.
"That's because I'm a very closeted gay", I explain and he turns around fully.
There isn't much left to do.
One look at me in combination with the words you just heared me say, and he faints.
I personally think he's overreacting.
It's not like there weren't any clues.
I mean, people hurriedly and noisly leaving.the Restuarant when I walked in starn naked is pretty obvious isn't it.
Also, I wouldn't faint at the sight of a naked man, but I guess that entirely depends on your taste.
How ever, I bow down and, while waiting for cat calls, grap his bag to take out the rainbowmanactiondoll.
I smile at the colorfull suit it's wearing and decide to get a new one anyway. The one I was wearing got a bit torn when I ripped it off hurriedly.
The doll in my hand seems to smile back and I'm proud that some people still remember me, eventhough they don't recognise me.
It could be worse, believe me.

****
Right...
Chapter one.
Don't blame.
I don't know where the idea came from (I do, but why should I tell)...
I hope you're willing to read another shit chapter of that.
It would be better, if somebody would just volunteer to beta read it. I'd be very obliged.
Anyway.
There is more where that is coming from and you get it if you leave reviews and/or rate only.....
muha.