Oops I did it again

It’s the place where I perch. I stand tall and proud overlooking my small city.

It’s the Beaver Inn. That’s the name of the building where I wait for crime to pounce my way.

So far I’ve only managed a couple acts of heroism. They mainly include breaking up fights and stopping drunks from getting behind the wheel.

There’s no gorgeous naked maidens running around in need of rescue. Where the hell are they all?

I seem to have the misfortune of staying up late, washing puke off my suit from the idiots who don’t know their own alcohol limitations.

I’m starting to think a nasty puke coloured costume is the way to go. I’d still wash it of course, but a stain here or there wouldn’t be such a problem.

Well, anyway, I’m stationed atop of the Beaver Inn looking down upon the city I now call home.

In my one hand I have a chicken and cheese burrito. My other hand is clenched as tight as possible. It’s ready to bash evil into little itsy-bitsy bits.

I stuff a bite of tasty microwavable delight into my mouth and begin to chew. The incredible flavour knocks me off my perch.

I find myself hanging from the edge of the building. My burrito plummets to the sidewalk four stories below.

Splat!

My one hand is still tightly clenched in a fist. There’s no way I’m letting crime sneak up on me.

The fingers on my other hand are starting to slip. I can’t hold on forever. I wish I was Spiderman. He never seems to have this problem.

“Damn it!” I yell. I’m frustrated with the idiotic predicament I’ve put myself into.

“This sucks,” I mumble to myself. I wonder what life would be like if I was a little smarter.

Maybe I’d be a part of the Justice League. I know I’d never be captain as long as Superman is alive, but I could be a secondary hero. One who shows up, helps fight, but stays in the background.

No, I have the special powers of a dung beetle. I don’t even know much about them. I’ll never amount to anything like the Justice League.

All I know is that one day I was sipping some radioactive waste when a dung beetle entered the mix and I drained the poor, innocent insect down my throat.

The next day I could push stuff really well. It was a dream come true. I always wanted to be a superhuman capable of incredible feats.

Back to my horrible situation It’s been two minutes. Where the hell is the fire department with that big ladder? Is someone eating my flattened burrito? Is Joel still making up weird fictional stories and claiming they really happened?

I don’t know, but I do know this could be the end of a superhero. The superhero who keeps the streets of North Battleford clear of injustice and villainous activity.

It’s not. In a few moments, I’ll realize there’s a ledge. The ledge leads to a window. The window heads me straight for a door. I can go through the door to the elevator. I press the button L for lobby.
Then I finally leave the Beaver.

I go home to sit in a bucket of my own uselessness.

I cry myself to sleep that night.