Me vs. The Sandman
I didn't really know who I was. Everything was kind of fuzzy as my coworker Tom and I picked our way through the city. The backlot segued to a mall which segued to a 1920s jazz casino. It was only when Tom stopped to tickle the ivories of an upright that I noticed the hat on his head. My hat. He had stolen my hat.
That's when it came back to me: the smoke, the burning. I knew who he was, and he knew who I was. I wouldn't exactly call us enemies, or even rivals. But he'd taken my hat. That had to be dealt with.
I picked him up, slammed him against the wall a couple times, and then threw him to the other side of the casino hall. People began to press themselves away from us. As I approached him again, I called out to the crowd as loud as I could, "Hey everybody, you ever heard of the Sandman?"
In proper jazz call-and-response manner, everyone shouted back in unison, "Yeah!" Oh yeah, the Sandman was infamous for burning whole forests and towns. Anyone that wasn't shouting back was screaming and running.
"Well I'm about to beat the crap out of him!" I shouted again. More screaming and running. "And there's gonna be a whooooooooooole heckuvalotta collateral damage!"
See, the only person who knew my power was Tom, A.K.A. the Sandman. Anytime I punched someone, it also made a small grenade drop out of the air onto their head. Tom, standing up in front of me, was still smiling. I picked my hat up off the ground and set it firmly back on my head.
What Tom didn't know is that I could also use MIRVs.
That's when it came back to me: the smoke, the burning. I knew who he was, and he knew who I was. I wouldn't exactly call us enemies, or even rivals. But he'd taken my hat. That had to be dealt with.
I picked him up, slammed him against the wall a couple times, and then threw him to the other side of the casino hall. People began to press themselves away from us. As I approached him again, I called out to the crowd as loud as I could, "Hey everybody, you ever heard of the Sandman?"
In proper jazz call-and-response manner, everyone shouted back in unison, "Yeah!" Oh yeah, the Sandman was infamous for burning whole forests and towns. Anyone that wasn't shouting back was screaming and running.
"Well I'm about to beat the crap out of him!" I shouted again. More screaming and running. "And there's gonna be a whooooooooooole heckuvalotta collateral damage!"
See, the only person who knew my power was Tom, A.K.A. the Sandman. Anytime I punched someone, it also made a small grenade drop out of the air onto their head. Tom, standing up in front of me, was still smiling. I picked my hat up off the ground and set it firmly back on my head.
What Tom didn't know is that I could also use MIRVs.