Superheroes in Prose

"Imagine you have the power to fly. Pretty awesome, right? Imagine you have the power to levitate or crush something the size of a Winnebago. Equally awesome. Now ... here's the catch: having the power means you are bonded irreversibly to a smartass, sociopathic alien life form. Not so awesome. So, what would you do with all of that power? The way I figured it, I had one of two options: Option #1) Use it to commit crime or Option #2) Use it to fight crime. My name is Gabe Garrison and I chose Option #2."

I just can't believe I slammed the door in Reagan MacPherson's face last night. Is her situation just like mine? Does she have some sort of smartass alien entity inside her brain? Is she registered? Do her friends know? Is she stronger than me? Does this somehow make me look hot to her? Is Liberty - the World's Greatest Hero - going to come after her like the way he's going to come after me? My name is Gabe Garrison, and this is the second volume of my story ...

Have you ever been really good at something and not allowed yourself to do it? And I'm not talking about something small, like making cappuccinos (but that's a real talent, too, especially when you add the milk leaf, which Grace the barista is either incapable of or unwilling to do). No, I'm talking about something hugely, mind bogglingly big. Creating Star Wars Episode IV big. I'm talking about saving people.

If the past eight months have taught me anything, it's that being a superhero sucks. Here is why: I'm irreversibly bonded to M, an alien life form that only I can hear; I constantly have to be on guard to keep my secret identity secret-like; I fight supervillains like Dr. Villainous, Deathbot, and the Glop every other day; and the greatest, most hardest suck of them all - I pissed off Liberty, the world's greatest hero.