Ultimate Mid-life Crisis

by Adam Graham

  The world came back to Powerhouse. Shorty stood by him. “Wake up.”

  Powerhouse peered around as he lay on the ground in one of the mines’ caves. Sitting nearby was the other members of the overseer’s team plus two replacements who looked almost like twins of those who were killed.

  “What happened?” Powerhouse asked.

  “You got shocked unconscious. Everyone in the underworld wants you dead except for me.” Shorty winked. “And that’s only because I need you.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You’ve violated the sanctity of the competition. We must show our evolutionary superiority correctly, in the order prescribed by the King.”

  “I was trying to stop them from killing each other.”

  “You stopped one guy from proving his superiority over another. Down here, it is kill or be killed. That is sacred to Perdition, so your disruption was profane. Whether you like it or not, playing by the rules is our only hope of prevailing over our enemies.” Shorty stared down at Powerhouse. “Let me assure you, if you do that when I am in competition, I will kill you. I am on a mission, and I will accomplish it by any means necessary. Understood?”

  “Sort of.” But could he stand by and let two people kill each other?

  “Now, we must make plans, for we are on the verge of the worst time of the day: when we are forced to lose consciousness.”

  “You mean it’s bedtime?”

  “What is a bed?”

  This colorless place was that miserable? “It’s what my people sleep in.”

  “Here we become unconscious on the ground just as you were. We stay asleep until the visions awake us.”

  “Visions?”

  “Your species must not experience it. If we lose consciousness in mid-day, we have no visions. However, any time there is a scheduled sleep period, we encounter the visions.”

  So ‘dreams’ was being translated as ‘visions’ for some reason? Why? What was special about it for the aliens? “Does something about those make sleeping dangerous?”

  “Let’s just say you’d best keep watch as long as you can.”

  Overseer struggled to breathe in the arena.

  The alien Powerhouse held him in the air by the throat. “You unlocked my evolutionary potential. Now, I’ll prove my superiority to you as I have all the others.”

  “No!” Overseer raised his knife.

  Powerhouse grabbed Overseer’s wrist, squeezed it until it broke, and punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground. The metal man grabbed Overseer by the leg and smashed him against the ground repeatedly.

  Overseer awoke, gasping. He’d always been assured that Perdition didn’t afflict overseers with visions. Why did he keep foolishly expecting everyone else to be honest? That was wicked behavior unless it’d serve one’s interests better than a lie.

  The truth was Powerhouse was a monster. Once he got over his fear of killing, King Bel would want him to replace one of the overseers. Would he be the overseer that Powerhouse killed?

  Overseer sat on the edge of his marble slab, a privileged resting place reserved for mine workers of his station. No. The truth serves a ruler better than falsehood. Surely King Bel sees that. He said he only wants Powerhouse here until he kills, then I’ll be promoted and receive a name.

  Where was this fear coming from? He gasped for breath. The metal man was dangerous. Without the collar, he could bring down the entire kingdom.

  “We’ll see about that.” Overseer opened the black door of his quarters, got on his platform, and flew a quarter of mile to where his team was camped.

  Powerhouse was standing while the rest slept.

  Overseer sent a shockwave through Powerhouse.

  Powerhouse spun. “What was that for?”

  For something he did in a vision. No. He must never let this man know he feared him, or he would be finished. “What are you doing up after the time of unconsciousness?”

  “Shorty here asked me to keep watch.”

  Overseer grimaced and shocked Powerhouse. “You will refer him by his numeric designation, which is?”

  “Um.” Powerhouse ducked.

  This was pure pleasure. Overseer shocked Powerhouse again. “Learn the numbers, refer to your teammates by their numbers, and report them to me tomorrow. Now lie down and sleep.”

  “Okay,” Powerhouse laid down on the ground.

  Overseer walked back towards his hover platform.

  Powerhouse called, “Overseer! Can I have a glass of water?”

  “No, you have a water ration, and you drank it.”

  “Why is water rationed? Do you have a shortage?”

  “No more foolish questions.” Overseer zapped Powerhouse one last time and got on his platform. That overpowered moron could never become his evolutionary superior.

  Could he?

  Chapter 20

  Powerhouse’s Worst Nightmare

  A meaty blue fist slammed into Powerhouse, knocking him against a sky-scraper. Powerhouse rocketed the other way. He eyed his assailant. It was a nine-foot-tall man with blue skin. He gasped. The Blue Giant! But he’s owned by Mainstream Comics. How can I be fighting him?

  Blue Giant ripped off Powerhouse’s jetpack and slammed into his back.

  Powerhouse flapped his arms as he hurtled helplessly towards the Earth.

  Blue Giant flew ahead, caught him, and pounded him to the ground.

  Powerhouse glared. “Who authorized this inter-company crossover?”

  “You were bought out.”

  Powerhouse gasped. “Then I’m owned by Mainstream Comics.”

  The Blue Giant punched him. “And by me.”

  “But you’re a good guy.”

  “You’re under the control of an evil alien.” The Blue Giant dropkicked Powerhouse and caught him. “I’m glad they bought you. They never let me defeat any of the characters created by our company.”

  “Glad to help.” Powerhouse flailed against the big man. “Now I know how Shazam feels.”

  A boomerang flew through the air and shattered. It dropped chunky white gunk on Powerhouse and the Big Blue Giant.

  Powerhouse tasted the gunk. “Blue cheese dressing.”

  The Big Blue Giant crumpled to the ground.

  Powerhouse said, “That’s the Blue Giant’s one weakness.”

  The Boomerang Bloke emerged from the shadows sporting a goatee and holding a boomerang and a blaster. “This’ll exorcise that alien demon.”

  He fired at the Blue Giant.

  The Blue Giant said, “Oh, but I’m weakened, I can’t make it to the lab to get treated. I need help.”

  “No, what you need are cupcakes.” Bloke pulled a couple cupcakes out of nowhere and handed him to the Blue Giant.

  After eating them, the blue guy soared off singing, “Off we go into the wild blue yonder…”

  Powerhouse gasped. “I’m in a comic book ad!”

  The Boomerang Bloke smiled. “Here at Mainstream Comics, we like to mix those into the storyline. Anyway, Powerhouse, you’ve been workin’ for the man in Seattle too long. There’s a whole universe of people who are suffering, and I’d like you to come along with me as I monologue about it.”

  “I didn’t think you were political.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t, but now I have a goatee. That makes me edgier. So what do you say?”

  “Sure.” Why did I just agree to fly around the universe listening to him diatribe? Is this a dream?

  Powerhouse found himself dressed for a spacewalk. He stood by Bloke at the hatch of a spaceship. Powerhouse pointed to the spacesuits. “How did we board this ship and get in our spacesuits?”

  “We did it all off-panel.”

  “Oh.” He followed Bloke off the spaceship and glanced it over. It was shaped like a 1970s blue Volkswagen van. He floated out onto the crater-marked landscape.

  Powerhouse bounced up and down in the low gravity. “Weeee!”

  “Quiet, there can be no joy when I’m around!” The Boomerang
Bloke waved his boomerang in a cutting motion. “Take a look at the pollution that’s created all the craters on this planet. Corporations have sucked it dry and turned into a wasteland, and you did nothing.”

  Powerhouse looked up. The Earth shone in the sky. “Um, Bloke, we’re on the moon.”

  “So? They did this to the moon, and you didn’t stop them. You were too busy in Seattle, making sure everyone got their lattes on time!” Boomerang Bloke looked around.

  “Uh, I’m pretty sure pollution didn’t cause Moon Craters.”

  Boomerang Bloke stroked his chin. “You know, I have a goatee now.”

  “Yes.” Powerhouse blinked. “So?”

  Boomerang Bloke slapped his head. “I got me coordinates mixed up. I’ll get us to the right hellhole.”

  They re-entered the space van. It flew off the edge of a giant comic book page and landed on a dessert landscape.

  Powerhouse got out. Around him gathered six blue, purple polka-dotted alien creatures with eight humanoid arms and dressed in cream prison suits.

  Boomerang Bloke waved at them. “See all these people you haven’t helped? They live halfway across the galaxy in Stennis system.”

  One of the aliens said, “I’ve heard of what you’ve done for the black man, the white man, and the brown man, but about the blue-skinned, polka-dotted Octopus man? What about it?”

  Powerhouse glowered. “I’ll see what I can do. What’s their problem?”

  The Boomerang Bloke said, “They’re oppressed by a horrible dictator’s goon squad.”

  Eight octopus men in black uniforms with swastikas ran towards Bloke and Powerhouse.

  One alien said with a German accent, “What is the meaning of this?”

  Bloke fired off boomerangs at the approaching space Nazis that created a net around them. “There’ll be more where that came from. They’re going to send hundreds of these out.”

  “Not if I can help it.” Powerhouse flew up to the sky and searched for the headquarters of the space Nazis.

  Several space Nazis surrounded a building with a large swastika flag over it. Powerhouse imagined the outer walls disappearing. He ripped off an office door, rocketed through the wall and grabbed the Nazi commander.

  The purple polka-dotted alien raved. “The Aryan race shall triumph. This Zionist conspiracy against me will not succeed!”

  Powerhouse rocketed the space Nazi leader back to Boomerang Bloke.

  Boomerang Bloke snorted. “You think you accomplished something by capturing the leader? You’re wrong. We need to hold a sit-in to tell them we’re mad as all get out and we’re not going to take it anymore.”

  “Let’s try it my way. Now explain yourself, Space Nazi.”

  “The Fuehrer will not be pleased.” The Nazi Commander sneered. “I’ve received your radio transmissions. The Fuehrer is on the conquest, starting with his invasion of Poland and Czechoslovakia. Your radio newsmen tremble. I wanted to be on the winning side, for the Fuehrer will conquer first Earth, then the universe.”

  Powerhouse groaned. “Those transmissions are more than seventy years old. Hitler ended up losing the war and shooting himself.”

  “But I just heard on the radio about his triumphant march.”

  The Boomerang Bloke belted the alien. “Listen, you fascist pig! Your boy Hitler’s takin’ the dust nap.”

  A blue man in a robe entered. “We will take care of him.”

  The Boomerang Bloke said, “Then our job here is done.”

  Powerhouse stared. “They had a dictator who ruled the whole planet and oppressed the people. They’ll need some help clearing things away and fighting poverty and taking care of widows or orphans of people killed by the regime.”

  “There you go again. You have to help everyone, and you can’t help any particular group too much, or you’ll hurt their societal evolution. You’ll have them thinking you’ll always come and fix all their problems. They got to learn to take care of things themselves.”

  Powerhouse put up his hand. “What if the rebuilding goes bad and they get stuck with another dictator?”

  Boomerang Bloke shrugged. “Then we’ll come and get rid of that one.”

  “If you say so.” He got into the van.

  Boomerang Bloke slouched in the driver’s seat and stared at him.

  Powerhouse tapped his fingers. “What?”

  “This is where you express your angst at the close of our little adventure. You regret ignoring all the people suffering in outer space and being so limited in your vision to only see the people of Seattle as needing your help.”

  Powerhouse grunted. “Who are you to judge people who do good?”

  Boomerang Bloke stuck his index finger in Powerhouse’s face. “I am someone with a goatee.”

  “Look, this trip was cool, but what I was doing in Seattle was important. I was keeping crime off the streets. When I had the time, I was taking care of lot of folks in need. I’m not going to let you denigrate it.” Powerhouse knit his brows under his helmet. “Like I did with everyone who told me I needed to go to New York or Texas or rip phone books apart on stage.”

  The Boomerang Bloke harrumphed. “Fine, bigot. I’ll take you back to your ignorant little city, if you’re not swayed by me brilliant arguments or me awesome goatee to feel loathing and self-doubt.”

  Powerhouse grunted.

  In seemingly no time, they landed in Seattle. The two got out of the van and walked down the street.

  “No hard feelings.” Powerhouse held out his hand.

  Boomerang Bloke slapped it. “I’ll be embittered against you forever.”

  Miss Invisible jumped out from nowhere and karate kicked Powerhouse in his helmet.

  Powerhouse stood took a step back and dodged. “What’s going on?”

  Miss Invisible’s sidekick, Winged Woman, swooped down, and grabbed Powerhouse with her talons.

  Miss Invisible contorted her spine, so her chest and rear end were both facing him, and waved her fist. “Come back here, you little traitor!”

  Weird. I didn’t know she had a super-flexible spine. “Winged woman, what’s going on?”

  “Where have you been, Mars? Duh, the Alphabet War has split the hero community apart.”

  “The Alphabet War?”

  “Yes, a superhero named North Man accidentally set a building on fire and many people were hurt. To prevent this from happening in the future, Congress passed a law requiring all superheroes have their superhero names start with letters A-M.”

  Powerhouse blinked. “How would that prevent anything?”

  Winged Woman shrugged. “Only Congress understands that. I’ll take you to Solar Lady.”

  “Could you let go? I’ll turn on my jet pack and follow you.”

  She released him, and Powerhouse followed her.

  They landed at a field with a giant skyscraper. Its sign read “N-Z.”

  Standing on top of a building in Miss Invisible’s uncomfortable, spine-contorting pose was the premier superheroine of Mainstream Comics. Solar Lady wore a low-cut black unitard covered in suns.

  Powerhouse landed next to her. “Are you okay?”

  She tilted her head towards Powerhouse. “Why would you ask that? It is good to see you. With your help, we’ll beat those fascist Aimers.”

  “Aimers?”

  “A through M supers ran together. If your ears are mistakenly inserting an ‘I’ into aimers, that’s where a dash should be instead.”

  “Right. Is Captain France fighting for the Aimers?”

  “When we attacked him, he said, since he’s French, that the law doesn’t apply to him, and he thinks this whole thing is stupid.”

  Powerhouse smirked. “For once, I agree with Captain France.”

  She cocked her head at Powerhouse. “Fine then, rather than do your patriotic duty and defy the man, flee to Canada like that wimp Half Brain. The guy agrees with us, but he insists his name starts too high in the alphabet for him to fight for freedom.”

  Pow
erhouse shook his head. “We have to stop this. Maybe there’s some compromise.”

  “This may cause billions of dollars in property damage, but we can’t give in to tyranny. If we all take different names, it’s going to mean new costumes, new business cards, and new websites.”

  Winged Woman nodded. “Yeah, those business cards are expensive.”

  Powerhouse rubbed his chin guard. He’d worked hard on branding. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “They’re coming.” Solar Lady frowned above them and fired a burst of Solar Energy. “I got the Nat!”

  A man-sized insect fell to the ground.

  “Huh?” Powerhouse scratched his helmet. “Isn’t someone called the Nat on our side?”

  “No.” Solar Lady laughed. “Nat has a silent ‘g’ at the start of the word.”

  Only hoity-toity types spell Nat with a G. It must have be one of Mainstream Comics lamer new characters. Powerhouse spotted Steel Rottweiler and zipped over to him. “Hey, how are we going stop this?”

  Steel Rottweiler sneered. “We stop it by finishing them all off.”

  “Stop talking in clichés! Man, people could get hurt.”

  “They’re so hell-bent on enforcing this illegal law. They won’t listen.”

  Powerhouse rubbed his head. “Maybe we could pray?”

  Steel Rottweiler snarled. “This is Mainstream Comics! It’s intolerant if we do anything religious, unless we’re praying to the Roman pantheon.”

  Powerhouse blinked. “Come on, man, that’s not like you. You don’t let anyone push you around, certainly not on your faith. It’s Mainstream Comics that’s trying to get us to fight each other. We need God’s help to stop them.”

  “So let the editors deal with the secularists’ complaints?” Steel Rottweiler shrugged and bowed his head.

  Powerhouse clasped his hand. “God, we want to stop this pointless war. I’m not smart enough to stop it, but you are, so show me what to do. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  Steel Rottweiler looked up and frowned. “Incoming!”

  Powerhouse pivoted.

  A flying half man, half lion fired laser beams from his eyes.

  “Laser Lion, stop!” Powerhouse shouted.