The park was quiet this time in the afternoon. Young lovers where still in
class and the working class heroes had finished their lunch break. Scattered
crumbs of bread and seed lay over the pavement for the birds to pick at when
they pleased. The park was in bloom.
Jessica Williams, a sob story for the city, sat alone on a park bench with
her face buried in her hands. Some would even venture to guess she was
crying. How would she cope? What was she going to do now? These where there
single minded thoughts that held her down. After being fired from her job,
evicted from her apartment, dumped by her boyfriend, and after two years of
loving service her hamster had finally died. Surprisingly she felt no
remorse for her hamster, which made her even sadder.
She looked up to the sky for guidance but found only the towering sky
scrapers of Paragon City closing in on her. She needed to get out of the
city. Considering it was a heavily populated city she had never felt so
alone. She looked around. It suddenly dawned on her that maybe she was too
alone, the park was usually empty around now but not literally ‘empty’. It
Then it came. The shouting. The grabbing. The pushing. The struggle. Before
she knew it she was on the floor and surrounded by hideous, twisted forms.
“I like her legs.” gargled one of the deformed figures.
“Naa, look at her arms, thems is pretty arms.” replied another.
“Alright, you ‘av the arms and I’ll ‘av the legs?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Jessica felt frozen in place, her body refused to move as she lay on the
floor paralysed with fear. As she looked up she could see the sun reflecting
off the large butcher knives that were held above her.
“Oo gets her ‘ead?”
“You got the last one.”
“Yeah but that was an ugly one. This one is pretty.”
“Tough. Fair is fair.”
The fear subsided to the realisation that she was going to be murdered. She
began to weep and once again her wet face became embedded in her hands. She
was seriously lonely but she never wanted to die. Sure she had a lot of
problems but she knew eventually she would work through them. She was an
aspiring journalist with plenty of opportunities to get a new job. *Smack!*
There where cheap apartments over in Galaxy City, she could afford one of
those couldn’t she? *Thump!* There where definitely plenty of men that would
interested in her, after all she wasn’t the ugliest girl in town even with
mascara running down her cheeks. *Whack!* Then she could always get a new
hamster? No wait, probably a dog, they would last a bit longer she thought,
definitely not a cat, no no, she would get a dog. *Zap!* But then again,
what if her new apartment didn’t allow pets and what if her new boyfriend
preferred cats? She suddenly felt confused.
“Are you ok miss?” came a strong voice from above her. Quickly snapping out
of her trance she looked up and saw the deranged figures laying limp on the
floor beside a tall, dark figure that was silhouetted against the sun.
“Ooooo, I say” she muttered in a girly whisper.
“No need to say anything miss” boomed the voice, “You are safe now and all
“Why thank you Mr…er…Mr?” she stumbled her words as the figure helped her to
“No Mr at all Miss, call me British Power!”
“Ooooo, and accent as well? I do say!”
“May I escort you safely out of the park? There may be more of those zombie
villains lurking about.”
“You can escort me anywhere you like” Then came the giggle, which for the
sake of cheesiness was cut short by a muffled sort of “…Oh my!” as the young
journalist spotted several other zombie-like creatures coming out of the
“No worries Ma’am.”
With a vigorous war cry and the unsheathing of a large broadsword the hero
charged into the fray. Jessica watched with her hands over her mouth all the
while, she couldn’t bare suspense, seriously, she even hated waiting to
taste some new food her ex cooked her.
The sword flew left, right and centre, crashing down and swiping enemies off
their feet. One of the rotted villains even came to a nasty end when a
skilfully aimed punch from British Power knocked his head clean off. Then
the corpses came. A rumbling horde of warped beings that were once human
staggered into the battle. It was obvious to Jessica that the original
twisted fellows have control over these zombies.
There was a mighty display of kicking from the hero as he leaped through the
crowd, spinning and twirling his muscled frame to get as much power into his
attacks as possible. Then there where gunshots. Lots of them.
The young journalist looked to the source of the firing and found another
man dressed in complete urban wargear while holding a very large rifle which
he definitely used to its full potential. The corpses began to fall as the
bullets sprayed into them. The stocky man took a large puff on his cigarette
as he changed the magazine in his rifle before resuming to pick each body
off one at a time.
“About time!” yelled the British Power.
“Sorry boyo!” shouted the soldier, “Got caught up, some of us don’t have the
ability to leap over traffic you know!”
Eventually the last Mortificator came to a dismal end when British Power
gave a full-on head butt followed by a somewhat tasteless victory cry of
“BOOYAA!” Jessica gave a shriek of happiness as she ran to her knew heroes,
as is the custom to recently saved victims.
“That was amazing! You are so strong! You are my new favourite hero…”
“All in a days work for British Power and Cruniac.” Both heroes took a bow,
the red and white armour of British Power shimmered with its metallic glow
while the rugged and worn leatherwear of Cruniac didn’t reflect anything
under all the filth.
“How can I ever repay you?” smiled a gleeful Jessica Williams.
“I can think of a few ways…” smirked Cruniac.
“Cru!” interrupted his taller comrade with a smack over the back of his
“Oi! I was only going to ask her to pay for my tram ride home!”
“Oh, well then,”
“Consider it done!” said Jessica as she trifled through her handbag and
retrieved the necessary amount of currency for Cruniac.
After the long goodbye both heroes walked off down a path in the park. The
silence was drawn out as they concentrated on searching for more evil to put
underfoot. Eventually the quiet was broken by Cruniacs husky voice.
“You really shouldn’t polish your suit so much, I can barely see anything
‘cos its so bright.”
“I’ll stop polishing my suit when you actually wash yours.”
“Always quick to remark.” replied Cruniac sarcastically.
by Tony Hollett