Another wacky, zany adventure is my middle name

So there I was, in the laundry room. My superhero costume was tumbling around and around in the dryer.

Yes, even me the all-mighty Dung Beetle Guy has to wash his clothes once in awhile. All that crime fighting causes me to perspire.

Anyway, I’m standing in my boxer shorts, in the laundry room, in my apartment when I hear a scream.
I put down my copy of Maxim with Avril on the cover, so I could investigate.

The scream was more of a cry or could even be classified as a moan.

Without thinking about what I was wearing, I ran directly for the lady in distress. It came from suite 102. I knew there was an extremely attractive lady living there all by herself.

Good looking people need rescuing too.

The cries came on a regular basis and seemed to be getting louder. For some reason, a yes would escape the victim’s mouth followed by an Oh Joel.

Still the screams persisted. I had to do something.

My foot crashed into the door. No luck. Again I kicked the heavy wooden door.

Then I tried the knob. The stupid evil doer didn’t even lock the door. Dumb bastard.
I was in. I used my regular average human hearing to detect where the cries were coming from. The cries led me right to the bedroom. I knew the layout because it was the same as my place.
I charged into the room, not even noticing I was only in my boxers. Crime doesn’t stop for the tumble cycle so why would I?

A naked Joel seemed to be attacking the attractive lady, who must have been sleeping in the nude when the the incident erupted.

“What are you doing to her Joel?” I questioned.

He looked at me in shock, like I had no business being there. I quickly grabbed him by the shoulders and tossed him to the carpeted floor. A fight ensued. I, being a superhero, won of course.

When it ended, they both looked at me. Joel ran for the door after grabbing some pants and a shirt.
I haven’t seen him run that fast since.... Actually I don’t think I’ve ever seen Joel run. I think he’s lived his entire life without running. Weird.

I was expecting some sort of recognition from the lady for my good deed, but no gratuities came my way.

The stupid bitch. It’s people like her that make me wonder why I’m in the business at all.

I went back to laundry room. My suit wasn’t quite dry. I couldn’t believe it. Why couldn’t I have the superpower of super drying breath.

Damn laundry days. Damn them and their mothers.

DBG