Dung Beetle Guy Begins

Like most young boys, I used to safety pin a towel around my neck and ‘fly’ about the house. I used to dream of wearing tights and battling supervillians. My record was impeccable. Not a single bad guy escaped justice.

But those were the days of incredible fantasy, where a simple towel could send me on day-long, daydream adventure. It only lasted about six years before I grew up, but the fascination with superheroes raged forward and all my spending cash went towards comics.

All the other young teenage boys were looking at Playboy, Joel enjoyed the pixilated ladies from video games and I had the world of comic books to realize my youthful erotic desires.

Looking back, I blame comic books for making me so damn picky when it comes to the ladies. Anything short of an intelligent girl with man’s ideal body who can lift a car over her head, just isn’t good enough for me. I would substitute car lifting for heat vision.

Well, let’s fast forward to a specific date in time. Let’s make it September 1, 1993. I’m 13-years-old and just it’s my first day attending Will Sinclair High School. Mr. Baron is the principal and my home room teacher is Mrs. Hamilton.

Throughout the final months of grade 8 and over the summer, I made a new acquaintance named Orlin. We became such good friends in that period of time that we ended up sharing a locker that first year.

I ended up sitting beside him in the third row, and on his other side of Orlin was Joel. At first glance, Joel was the perfect connotation of a video game loser. First glance turned out to be true. Little did I believe he’d turn me to the darkside of video games.

With Orlin on one side, there was an empty desk to my left. I definitely wasn’t the coolest guy in the world, so that seat wasn’t the pick of the litter. It wasn’t even the cream of the crop. Hell, the spot beside the fat kid was picked first. At least you might get a snack or two sitting beside him.

The clock’s second hand quickly erased the time to the opening bell. Mrs. Hamilton was standing at the front of the class ready with introductions.

It was with 30 seconds left to the bell when she walked through the door frame. My Lois Lane, Lana Lang, Mary-Jane Watson, Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Mystique entered the room.

She was what I always dreamed of. She jumped right off the pages of my illustrated books. I could hardly breath. My chest felt like I was getting a bear hug from Superman, and the Human Torch was scorching my heart.

I froze, exactly like Spiderman did the first time he looked at Venom. The only part of me that moved was my head, with my mouth wide open. It followed the path of the secret identity.

She had long brown hair, a long slender body and, when she got close enough for me to see, the most incredible blue eyes. They were amazing. I wondered if her superpower was having guys getting lost in those mysterious orbs. They’d transport you to a realm of nothingness to float around until she willed you back into the real world. One hell of a superpower.

The desk beside me was still vacant. She was coming this way. It was too good to be true. She ended up taking the seat three spots behind me. Shucks!

Maybe she didn’t sit behind me, but the chase was on. What did I know about her? Her last name was Racy and she was the girl in my superhero fetishes.

Here’s the start of a quick montage to show the passing of time

Over the next couple of months, I’d race to first period just to make sure I was in my desk when she walked by. It wasn’t until December that I had the courage to make eye contact with her.

I wasn’t the ladies’ man back then that I am now. I was 13 and the only thing close to a girlfriend I ever had was at Alberta’s first Big Valley Jamboree. Her name was Tia and she was from somewhere up North. We held hands and I even got my first kiss off her lips. Since then nothing.

I also didn’t want to get trapped on that dimension of emptiness. The eye contact went well. She even flashed a smile in my direction. If it wasn’t for Orlin’s constant pestering or Joel’s non-stop game reviews, my mind would have been stuck on that smile. It wasn’t perfect. There were a couple crooked teeth and on seemed to be slightly darker than the rest, but I didn’t notice or care. She was flawless.

The year rolled on and my superpower of being unable to talk to girls stayed strong. I had managed a small wave, but no actual verbal communication. The wave went over with mixed reviews. She didn’t wave back, but wasn’t looking straight at me. Racy might have not noticed my nervous gesture.

This was my last chance. I had to do something. There was no way I was going to go two months without seeing her. It was hard enough not seeing her for three straight days when she was sick.

I stood by the drinking fountain that was closest to her locker. I knew at any moment she’d exit class and start cleaning out her stuff for summer. I’d been picturing this moment for the last week. Everything was playing through my mind. Too bad it was as real as a 1970s science fiction feature.

In my head I was the biggest stud in the world. I looked like a combination of Peter Parker and Clark Kent. I even had the little Superman swirl on my forehead.

Then she came. She rattled off the combination to her fortress of solitude and started dumping stuff into the trash.

I walked over.

Everything goes black. Voice over. Images coinciding with text flash the screen

This is where I wish I could tell you that everything went as imagined. We had the most incredible summer and we’re still together 13 years later with little sidekicks running around our apartment on the third floor in suite D.

It didn’t happen that way at all. I’ve never stuttered so much in my life. I’m not even sure if I blurted out a complete sentence. She got the gist of my ramblings and tried to let me down easy. She mentioned something about Clark Chest. All the superhearing in the world wouldn’t have made her words register in my head. I just remember her fist to bust through my chest and shatter my, until then, unbroken heart.

She walked away.

The waterworks erupted. I ran out of the school and through the football field. I needed to be alone. I couldn’t face the world. I found an old, abandoned, wooden shed. I curled up into the fetal position and just cried. I rocked back and forth for hours.

I didn’t even notice the tiny creature walking towards me. The bug climbed onto my body and found the metaphorical hole in my chest and crawled on in. At that moment we merged into one being. I now had the all the abilities of the dung beetle and the insect now had the body of a human. We shared each other’s thoughts and could exchange dialogue by just thinking.

At first I didn’t know about my new powers. It wasn’t until l was at Midtown and Clark Chest was there. I used my beetle strength to beat him into a pulp.

I needed to harness my capabilities. I travelled to Europe two years later as a class trip. While everyone was touring Vimy Ridge, Anne Frank’s House, Napolean’s Tomb, the Louvre, I was training the top martial artists in underground Europe. I managed to control my strength and the urge to eat dung.

I then joined the superhero union and started my internship in Rocky Mountain House. I’ve since moved on to the bigger city of North Battleford. I can’t wait to be upgraded again or maybe given a sidekick.

As for Racy, I haven’t seen her since. She didn’t come back for grade 10. I was now too busy for girls. I was now a superhero. Crime was my bed fellow.