Please do not let this isolated incident lead you to attempting to conquer the Earth

Our local superhero Crimson Paraplegic is doing surprisingly well in these poor economic times.  And it’s not because she’s doing anything more or different in her superhero life either, or that she got a raise at her regular job at the local library. No, it has to do with news story such as this where the cops tasered the shit out of a legless man in a wheelchair.

“The government agency in charge of superheroes are always cautious about events that could cause one of us to turn to super-villainy,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “So anytime there’s a story about handicapped people being abused, say by law enforcement, they send me stuff to make sure I don’t decide to turn against them.”

Last year when there was that story about the sheriff’s deputy who dumped a quadriplegic man out of his wheelchair to the floor, the government paid for Crimson Paraplegic’s rent for a year.

“I’m getting a 42-inch plasma HD TV and a Blu-Ray player out of this,” Crimson says, referring to the current tasering of a wheelchair-bound person.

I question the prudence of government money being spent to keep Crimson Paraplegic happy about events that she may or may not be distressed about, but apparently placating superheroes so they don’t become supervillains is a serious issue with a bloody history.

In the late 50’s-early 60’s there was a superhero known as Super Shamrock, who at the time was the only Irish Catholic superhero licensed in America at the time.  It is said the assassination of Irish Catholic President John F. Kennedy made him question whether America would ever accept his type of people.  The shooting of Robert F. Kennedy five years later convinced him that America was an enemy of his kind and had to be destroyed.  He changed his name to Celtic Crusher and joined Viper Club, an international gentleman’s club of villainy.  Celtic Crusher’s sensitive information about our nation’s superheroes allowed the Viper Club to wipe out half of them, thus not allowing President Nixon to use them in the war in Vietnam. Thus the government began programs to monitor the mental well-being of their superheroes to catch a potential allegiance shift before it was too late.

(Note: Celtic Crusher died in 1982 from AIDS, because though he was a supervillain he still adhered to the Catholic belief of not using condoms.)

“Next time someone in a wheelchair gets tasered by the cops I hope I can get one of those new iPhones out of it,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “Or at least the complete series of House on DVD.”

The government spends a lot on bullshit, but buying  Crimson Paraplegic stuff so she doesn’t destroy the country because handicapped people like her get fucked over is a pretty good use of taxpayers’ money.

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Bad fashion sense is not a disability

America’s newest superhero squad, the Disability Trinity (featuring our local superhero Crimson Paraplegic), has gathered to address an issue vital for their elevation to the elite level or superhero groups:  getting a decent costume for Anxiety Girl, as her costume right now is a soccer uniform with sneakers.  Crimson had a designer friend of hers draw up a conceptual outfit to show, and like with every design there were a few issues.

“Why do I need a cape?”  asks Anxiety Girl, the mousy 17-year old with the power to create fear-fueled force fields to keep people away from her.

“Because we have capes,” says Dyslexic Dragon, the Batman of the group if Batman had a learning disorder.

“And having a uniform look makes people think you’re well-organized and respectable,” says Crimson Paraplegic.

“But capes get caught on things,” says Anxiety Girl.  “Didn’t you see ‘The Incredibles?’  You put a cape on me and that’s all I’m going to be worrying about.”

“But worrying is what gives you your powers, so what’s the problem?”  says Crimson Paraplegic.

“Okay, fine, I’ll wear the cape,” says Anxiety Girl.  “But forget the boots.  I’m keeping the high-top sneakers.

“Boots are superheroes for mandatory,” says Dragon Dyslexic.  “Shit, you know what I mean.  Boots display authority and power.”

“The Incredible Hulk doesn’t wear shoes,” says Anxiety Girl.

“Because he’s massive muscular tank of rage with the intelligence of toilet paper,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “And he keeps breaking his shoes.”

“Plus a pair of Reeboks with a Lycra bodysuit is just going to look ridiculous,” says Dragon Dyslexic.

“That’s another problem,” says Anxiety Girl.  “I’m really not feeling the whole spandex bodysuit idea.”

“Well you certainly can’t pull off a vinyl or leather catsuit,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “Squeezing into one of those suits is a superpower in itself, let alone having it look flattering.”

“You may have a point,” says Dragon Dyslexic to Anxiety Girl.  “Crimson’s already in a bodysuit.  How about a skirt like SuperGirl has?  Think you could pull that off?”

“Only if I can wear tights under it,” says Anxiety Girl.

“Yeah, you don’t want to be flashing your panties off to everyone like some sort of anime heroine,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “Hey, remember that time Magma Woman got caught going commando and ended up flashing her vag during a fight with Professor Panda Bear?  They just stopped fighting and went home, that’s how awkward it was.”

“And if I wear the skirt and tights I can keep the sneakers, right?” says Anxiety Girl.  “I did give in on the cape thing.”

“Sneakers and a cape are going to make you look like a bad cosplay girl,” says Crimson Paraplegic.

“Or it could get us a sponsorship from Nike or Adidas,” says Anxiety Girl.

And thus Anxiety Girl got to keep her high-tops because shoe endorsements are the pinnacle of sponsorship deals, even for superheroes.

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Friday Haiku – Crimson Paraplegic

Everyone’s favorite crippled superhero takes a stab at the haiku form.

Flying’s easier
Than driving after ten drinks
Cops aren’t in sky

Bought high heels today
“What for?” asks rude saleslady
“For the prom you bitch!”

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Bitterness is the cover of a weekly periodical

If you remember last month our local superhero with non-functioning legs Crimson Paraplegic finally got to be in her own super group, teaming up with Dragon Dyslexic and Anxiety Girl to form the Disability Trinity. They even scored an important victory over a secret left-handed cabal of villainy their first time out too.

Unfortunately for our power trio because the captured villains in that previous plot went into witness protection, no press was allowed to cover this initial victory for the Disability Trinity, thus leaving the populace unaware of the group’s actions.

And this really pisses off Crimson Paraplegic because the group she and her squad mates had been rejected from, the Super Six Sorority, are on the cover of this week’s issue of Time Magazine. Apparently the Super Six had stopped a 50-foot Cliff Richard from destroying Europe. Why someone would make a 50-foot Cliff Richard or give him burning laser eyes is unknown. Perhaps it was a secret MI-6 weapon against Islamic terrorism gone horribly wrong, or perhaps it was aliens who really dug Devil Woman. Point is the Super Six Sorority saved Europe and now they’re having their day in the sun, much to Crimson Paraplegic’s chagrin.

“Look at these grinning idiots,” says Crimson Paraplegic, smacking the back of her hand against the magazine cover. She has stopped over on my roof for some late night cocktails. “I could have easily taken down that 50-foot Cliff Richard myself. I once took down a 35-foot Anne Murray while on vacation in Ontario.”

As I ponder who keeps making giant versions of popular singers from before I was born, I take a look at the magazine cover to finally see who the Super Six Sorority actually are. There’s Radiant Gale, the perky blonde half-naked tornado summoner and leader of the group; Doctor Bollywood, the Mumbai mechanical genius in a metal suit; TelePortia, who can teleport herself anywhere; La Indestructa, the undefeated Mexican women’s luchadore champion; Garnet Ghost, who can pass through solid objects; and finally Deaf Leopard, the hearing-impaired sonic spotted speedster with razor sharp claws who sold out Crimson Paraplegic to get on the team.

“They’re getting an endorsement deal from Reebok and a photo spread in Maxim Magazine next month,” Crimson Paraplegic ruefully says. “Meanwhile I’m barely making the rent and Anxiety Girl has to beg every bank and government agency she can find for college loans.”

“TelePortia looks pretty hot,” I say. “She’s looks like Appolonia from The Godfather, except she can teleport away from car bombs.”

“But who wears hot pants and a cape? Seriously?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “Look at Garnet Ghost’s new outfit. She never showed off her midriff before. And Deaf Leopard’s never had her cat-suit half-zipped like that before. Christ, it’s like they let socially-stunted comic book man-boys design their new Super Six uniforms.”

“That must be why they get all the endorsement deals,” I say. “But why does Deaf Leopard’s headpiece have ears on it. I thought she couldn’t hear.”

“Aesthetic reasons, because earless cats frighten children,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “Oh, and look at El Indestructa! She’s practically shoving her crotch at the camera. Did they airbrush the moose knuckle out?”

“Who watches the Watchmen?” I say. “If they’re hot like this, a lot of guys will.”

“With how high cut those briefs are, it’s more like the Snatchmen,” says Crimson Paraplegic, then she laughs at how clever that sounds.

So now Crimson Paraplegic has taken to calling the Super Six Sorority “The Snatchmen,” and that has her smiling and in a good mood again. She wants so bad to tell that to Radiant Gale’s face, and then kick her the vagina. Who Snatches the Snatchmen indeed.

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Crimson Rising: Part Six & Epilogue

There was fire and smoke, and the explosion was deafening, but when the dust settled our heroic trio of Crimson Paraplegic, Dragon Dyslexic, and Anxiety Girl, along with the villainous Captain Softball, found themselves unmarred by the exploding Palestinian Phoenix thanks to Anxiety Girl’s force field surrounding them.

“What the hell was that about?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “What kind of supervillain blows herself up like that?”

“A supervillain that can rise from the ashes of her own explosions,” says Captain Softball. “The Phoenix part of her name’s not for show. She’ll resurrect in like a half-hour, fully armed mind you.”

“A suicide bomber immune to the effects of suicide…” muses Dragon Dyslexic. “That would make her quite a deadly assassin.

“So why didn’t she attack us sooner?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “Unless, her real target wasn’t us, it was Captain Softball and Liquid Pamela. Their boss wanted to make damn sure they didn’t spill the beans.”

“Okay, you can drop the shield now,” Dragon Dyslexic says to Anxiety Girl, but Janis doesn’t respond. Dragon waves a hand past Anxiety Girl’s eyes to see if anyone’s home, but Anxiety Girl is catatonic with fear. “Give her a minute, she’ll come out of it on her own.”

“Well, while we’re here…” says Crimson Paraplegic, grabbing Captain Softball’s left hand, her throwing hand, and slowly applying crushing pressure to it. “You can either start telling us what we want to know, or I can leave you defenseless for whenever that Hamas-looking whore rises from her own ashes to finish the job.”

“You get me into super villain witness protection first, then I’ll tell you what I know,” says Captain Softball. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

So after waiting five minutes for Anxiety Girl to calm down enough to drop her force field, Dragon Dyslexic calls her contact in the US Super Justice Department and delivers Captain Softball and the ShamWow containing Liquid Pamela to them. Our heroes then decide to celebrate a job well done by finishing the rest of their pizza and cracking open the bottle of rum up on the rooftop of Anxiety Girl’s high school.

“So, do you think they’ll get anything useful out of the southpaw and the liquid bitch?” says Crimson Paraplegic.

“Softball will talk once she feels safe,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “Pamela won’t talk. Or rather, she can’t talk. No vocal chords. My concern is that this super villain group is going to go into hiding now that they’ve been thwarted and all of Captain Softball’s information won’t be useful.”

“You guys will write me a note excusing me from class tomorrow, right?” says a tipsy Anxiety Girl.

“I have the superhero exemption forms in the DyslexJet,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “Hand me another piece of Chicago-style deep dish.”

As Anxiety Girl gives her a fresh slice, Dragon Dyslexic stares at Anxiety Girl’s hand as if there’s something on it.

“What?” says Anxiety Girl says. “Do I have a wart? Or is a tumor? Oh God, it’s hand cancer!”

“You handed me the pizza with your left hand,” says Dragon Dyslexic.

“Actually, it was my right hand,” says Anxiety Girl.

“What’s the one thing an evil softball pitcher, a shapeshifting liquid woman, and a resurrecting Palestinian suicide bomber have in common?” says Dragon Dyslexic.

“Mental sickness?” says Crimson Paraplegic.

“They’re all left-handed,” Dragon Dyslexic continues. “Captain Softball throws left-handed. When Liquid Pamela hit you, she did it with her left hand. And Palestinian Phoenix held her detonator in her left hand.”

“So someone’s putting together a Legion of Left-Handed Doom?’ says Crimson Paraplegic. “How many lefty supervillains could there be? And who would bother gathering them into one group?”

“Every nine out of one people are left-handeded,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “I mean, one out of nine. No, the real question isn’t who would want to recruit a team of left-handed villains. It’s why. And we won’t know until they pop their head up again.”

“Then we’ll just have to wait around for them to show up again,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “And then we snap them in half.”

“So are we going to put a name to this little group of ours or what?” says Anxiety Girl.

Thus the Disability Trinity was born this night, and Crimson Paraplegic finally got the supergroup she always wanted.  She celebrated this fact by getting drunk on my roof and leaving profanity-riddled messages on Radiant Gale’s voicemail, featuring excessive use of the word “twat.”

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Crimson Rising: Part Five

And so our heroic trio of Crimson Paraplegic, Dragon Dyslexic, and Anxiety Girl have confronted the villainous Captain Softball and her new amorphous friend Liquid Pamela. And Crimson Paraplegic has just found out that punching Liquid Pamela doesn’t work because she just breaks apart and effortlessly puts herself back together, and that Pamela has no spine to break.

“All right you watery whore,” Crimson Paraplegic says to her liquid foe. “Is that all you can do?”

Liquid Pamela then forms her left hand into the business end of a sledge hammer and clocks Crimson Paraplegic in the face with it, sending the crippled one spinning and skittering backwards, and making Anxiety Girl squeak in fear.

“It’s all right, I’m nigh invulnerable,” Crimson Paraplegic says, rubbing her jaw and uncrossing her eyes. “And I’m right friggin’ pissed off too.”

“Crimson, you and Anxiety Girl keep those two busy,” Dragon Dyslexic says to her comrades. “I have to get something out of the back of the jet.”

“I don’t want to,” Anxiety Girl says, desperately grabbing Dragon Dyslexic’s arm. Her hands are shaking and she’s close to hyperventilating. “I want to go home. I want to go home now. I can’t deal with this.”

“Powers in your trust and you’ll be fine,” says Dragon Dyslexic, realizing she just screwed that sentence up. “I mean, trust in- look out!”

Just then one of Captain Softball magical pitches is sent flying at our two heroes, but Anxiety Girl’s force field blocks it in time.

“See, you’ll be all right,” Dragon Dyslexic says to her nervous teen comrade before leaving her to run back to the ship.

“Hey! Don’t be throwing energy-based softballs at her!” Crimson Paraplegic yells as she launches herself at Captain Softball, who then wings a fastball square into Crimson’s stomach and sends her flying all the way into the parking lot. This allows Liquid Pamela to menacingly approach Anxiety Girl with her hands now in the form of big neck-cleaving axes.

“Go away!” Anxiety Girl shrieks, sending out a invisible wave of force that scatters Liquid Pamela all over the place, and also knocks Captain Softball off her feet. But while Captain Softball struggles to get back up, Liquid Pamela easily pulls herself back together.

“I said leave me alone!” Another force wave from Anxiety Girl splatters Liquid Pamela again, unfortunately with the same results as before.

And that’s when Dragon Dyslexic comes running back from her jet with a ShamWow in hand and throws it at Pamela, completely absorbing the watery villain inside the product sold on television by a fast-talking asshole with a headset.

“Oh snap, Pammie!” says Crimson Paraplegic, flying back to the scene of fight. “You got soaked the fuck up!”

Then Crimson Paraplegic grabs a stunned Captain Softball, flies twenty feet up into the air, and drops her to the hard pavement. Then she does it again, and again, delighting each time in the crunch of the Captain’s ankle bones.

“All right, that’s enough,” Dragon Dyslexic says, prompting Crimson Paraplegic to stop. Dragon grabs Captain Softball by her ponytail. “Who do you work for? Tell me!”

“Like that’s going to happen,” says Captain Softball, wincing from her broken ankles. “My employers will do things far worse to me than you could ever do if I say anything to you.”

“Crimson, see how she likes the view from forty feet in the air,” Dragon Dyslexic says. “And this time, head her drop-first.”

But just as Crimson Paraplegic is about to grab Captain Softball, a wild ululating cry comes from behind our heroes, heralding the arrival of a olive-skinned woman in a patterned head scarf and khaki shorts and boots with a set of explosives strapped over her fiery red tanktop. In her left hand, she wields a detonator.

“Face the glorious martyrdom of Palestinian Pheonix!” screams the newcomer as she sprints at our puzzled heroes.

To be continued…

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Crimson Rising: Part Four

So after Crimson Paraplegic stops at my house to snag a bottle of Captain Morgan Parrot Bay rum from my collection, she returns to the house of Janis Cechmarek (aka Anxiety Girl) where Dragon Dyslexic is waiting with the keys to her DyslexJet to take everyone to an all-night pizza parlor. Her demands met, Anxiety Girl agrees to join our heroic duo, turning them into a heroic trio.

“All right, let’s go,” says Anxiety Girl, emerging from her room without her glasses (if it’s good enough for Superman to hide his identity, it’s good enough for her) in her full costume: a powder blue soccer goalie jersey, soccer shorts, socks going up over her shins, and high top sneakers.

“Go where? To the World Cup?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “I thought you were Anxiety Girl, not the goalie for Argentina.”

“I’m 17, I can’t afford a nice costume working part-time at frickin’ Dairy Queen,” says Anxiety Girl. “This is all I have.”

The trio takes a trip in the DyslexJet to grab some Chicago-style deep dish pizza and to discuss their plans for this supposed supervillain group while getting free refills of soda.

“So we just have to find this Captain Softball chick and she’ll lead us to the rest of her group,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “But where do find her?”

“Whatever this group is building, they need high-end microchips to make it work,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “Captain Softball recruited Doctor Platonic to steal them and he failed. Whoever she answers to will likely make her do the job herself this time.”

“But they won’t attack the same plant twice, right?” says Anxiety Girl, coyly nibbling on her pizza. “So what other place makes microchips?”

Taking the pizza with them our heroes fly out to the other chip manufacturing plant located in the tri-county area, arriving just in time to see Captain Softball smashing down the doors to the building with a sonic fastball. Strangely, in Captain Softball’s non-throwing right hand she seems to be carrying a large water pail. The DyslexJet lands and draws Captain Softball’s attention.

“Hold it there right, southpaw!” Dragon Dyslexic yells at the evil softball pitcher, then groans at her word order problems coming out an embarrassing time. Crimson Paraplegic strikes a heroic pose beside her new ally. Anxiety Girl sort of hides behind the both of them, trying not be seen.

“Just who I expected to see after Doctor Platonic’s failure,” says Captain Softball. “The word-mangler and the flying cripple. And I see you brought the back-up keeper for Manchester United as well.”

“Give it up, sister,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “You’re outnumbered three-on-one. So surrender without a fight and I won’t bother shattering your spinal column.”

“Actually, it’s three-on-two,” Captain Softball says, holding up her pail. “Allow me to introduce you to my colleague, Liquid Pamela.”

Out of the bucket jumps a clear watery mass that splashes down on the ground into a thick puddle, shifting upward like the T-1000 in Terminator 2 into the transparent form of a lanky 5′ 9″ woman with a bob haircut.

“Your partner in crime is a woman made out of Crystal Pepsi?” laughs Crimson Paraplegic. In reponse, Liquid Pamela momentarily morphs into a giant hand giving Crimson the middle finger before returning to her human form. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now, bucket bitch!”

Crimson Paraplegic flies at Liquid Pamela and punches her in the chest, causing Pamela to splatter like a popped water balloon. “Yeah! What now, Ms. Liquid-Got-Her-Ass-Kicked?”

Then she notices the dispersed droplets of Pamela crawling back together on the ground and reforming the liquid villain back to her full form unscathed. She gives a fake yawn and waves her hand to Crimson Paraplegic, telling her implicitly to “bring it.”

“Oh, dog balls…” Crimson Paraplegic says.

To be continued…

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Crimson Rising: Part Three

The doorbell rings at the suburban home of the Cechmarek family and is answered by 45-year-old dental hygenist Jeannie Cechmarek, who finds two superheroes on her front porch. One is dressed in a bulletproof rubber dragon body suit and mask; the other is clad in red spandex and is floating in mid-air, leaving her limp legs dangling just inches off the ground.

“Hi Mrs. Cechmarek, we spoke on the phone earlier,” Dragon Dyslexic says before introducing herself and Crimson Paraplegic. “We’re about here for your Janis daughter.”

“We’re here about your daughter Janis,” Crimson Paraplegic says, making sense of Dragon Dyslexic’s jumbled word order.

“Oh good, come on in,” says Jeannie Cechmarek. “She’s upstairs in her room. The poor girl’s been so distraught after not getting into that Super Sorority group.  She just locks herself in there all day and won’t let us come near her. Sometimes she gets so bad that we have to wait until she goes to sleep before we can even go upstairs.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am, we’ll fix that,” says Dragon Dyslexic.

“Yeah, we can relate to what she went through,” says Crimson Paraplegic.

They went upstairs and down the hall to the closed door of Jeannie’s room, pausing just beyond arms reach of it.

“Just be careful with Janis,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “She could possibly be more you than powerful. I mean-”

“No, I understand,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “And I strongly doubt she is.”

“Then be my guest,” says Dragon Dyslexic, waving her comrade toward the door, and then backing away from it.

Crimson Paraplegic shrugs and knocks at the door. “Hey Janis. This is Crimson Paraplegic and Dragon Dyslexic. We’re here to talk to you.”

“Go away,” says a mousy voice behind the door. And then an invisible wave of force hits Crimson Paraplegic, throttling her away from the door and almost to the stairs before Crimson slows herself to a stop.

“What the yellow-and-blue-make-green hell was that?” Crimson Paraplegic exclaims.

“Her power,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “Anxiety Girl can create invisible force fields to repel anything away from her or to trap things. “

“Anxiety Girl?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “She tried to get the token disabled-hero spot with anxiety as her disability? Are you serious?”

“Severe depression and anxiety are psychiatric disabilities,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “And not only does she have an abundance of both, but they also fuel her powers. If she were to have a nervous breakdown, she could destroy a city block just on reflex.”

“So who’s her archenemy?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “Paxil-Woman? Zoloft-Boy?”

“And who’s yours, Ms. Dangly-Legs? Michael Flatley and the entire cast of Riverdance?” says Dragon Dyslexic.

“You win this round…” says Crimson Paraplegic.

Dragon Dyslexic cautiously inches up to the door to Janis’s bedroom. “Janis, this is Dragon Dyslexic and we’re here to ask you to join our super-group. We were rejected from Radiant Gale’s group too and we could use your talents.”

“Really?” Janis says from behind the door. “No joke?”

“Not a joke, Janis,” says Dragon Dyslexic.

After a few silent moments, they hear Janis undo the lock on her door. She opens it a crack, allowing Crimson Paraplegic to see the young Janis with her blonde bangs and rectangular black glasses. This also allows Janis to see Crimson Paraplegic. “What’s wrong with her legs?”

“Duh, I’m a paraplegic,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “It’s in my friggin’ name.”

The door slams shut and Crimson Paraplegic gets thrown backward again.

“Janis, she didn’t mean it,” Dragon Dyslexic pleads. “She’s just pissed off that she got left out of the Sorority too. Just like you. So how about you let us in and we’ll talk, okay?”

The door opens just a crack again. “I want some pizza. And a bottle of rum.”

“You’re 17,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “I can’t get you-”

The door slams shut.

Dragon Dyslexic sighs and turns to Crimson Paraplegic. “Know where we can get some Bacardi at this hour?”

“Captain Morgan Parrot Bay,” Janis says from behind her door.

“Yeah, I know just the place,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “Give me twenty minutes.”

To be continued…

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Crimson Rising: Part Two

And so Crimson Paraplegic followed the make-shift Crimson Paraplegic handicapped symbol in the sky to the rooftop of a local car dealership, Morgan Freeman’s Discount Dodgeland (where you either get busy buying a new car, or you get busy dying). There waiting by one of the dealership’s giant spotlights she finds a short woman in a Batman-esque suit and cape, except its dark forest green and she’s got a dragon-like helmet on her head instead of a bat-themed one. And where the bat-symbol would be, there’s two gold “D’s” on her chest, one of which is backwards and facing away from the other D.

“Okay, you’re obviously not a supervillain,” Crimson Paraplegic says to the mysterious woman. “So who are you?”

“The name’s Dragon Dyslexic,” says the mystery woman. “And we’ve got a problem mutual.”

“A what?” says Crimson Paraplegic.

“Sorry, my dyslexia screws up my word order sometimes,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “I saw that you down took Doctor Platonic the other night. Stealing microchips… seems a bit out of his league, right?”

“Yeah… yeah it is,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “Why do you know that?”

“Because I’m an expert detective,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “My dyslexia forces me to view the world differently than everyone else, so I can see things that other people can’t. It’s rather helpful considering I don’t have any real superpowers.”

“So you’re like Batman or Green Arrow if they had a learning disorder,” says Crimson Paraplegic.

“And you’re like Superman without functioning legs,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “But we’re getting distracted here from the real issue: someone put Doctor Platonic up to planting that microrob chip.  I mean… chipping the micro…shit, you know what I mean.”

“Probably a female supervillain was pulling the Doctor’s strings,” says Crimson Paraplegic. “He’s lonely and easily manipulated by any woman feigning the slightest interest in him.”

“Her name’s Captain Softball,” says Dyslexic Dragon, holding up a surveillance photo of Doctor Platonic talking to a woman with a long ponytail wearing a softball uniform. “She’s a member of my rogues of gallery back in my city, has the power to magically conjure softballs and hurl them at extreme velocities, and as you can see from these pictures is quite a looker.”

“All right, so why don’t you go kick her ass then?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “She’s your archenemy.”

“Because this microchip heist is way out of Captain Softball’s league as well,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “She usually targets colleges that don’t carry enough women’s sports.  I think she’s part of a super-villain group. How big this group is, I sure can’t be. Shit… I mean, can’t sure… God damn it.”

“Why not place a call with the Super Six Sorority?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “Get a supergroup to take out a supergroup. Why talk to me about it?”

“Do you think you were the only other superhero with a disability who got rejected for a position in the Sorority Six Super?” says Dragon Dyslexic.

“Yes… I think we’ll keep them out of this,” says Crimson Paraplegic with a smile. “So when do we start snapping some spines for great justice?”

“A dynamic duo’s not going to be able to take down a supergroup that can recruit someone as dangerous as Captain Softball,” says Dragon Dyslexic. “We’re going to need a threesome, and I know just the person to join us.”

“A threesome, eh?” says Crimson Paraplegic. “Well, I hope he’s cute because if I’m going to experiment-”

“Not that kind of threesome,” says Dragon Dyslexic.

To be continued…

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Crimson Rising: Part One

To capitalize on the release of the movie Watchmen this past weekend, Renal Failure presents a week-long superhero epic starring our own popular superhero…

Our local superhero Crimson Paraplegic has been in a bit of a funk lately. There hasn’t been any new crime for her to stop, her partner Mercury Shadow is away on a week-long Superhero Conference in Antigua, and she’s still smarting after not making it into the Super Six Sorority. But when the call went out that there was a break-in at a local microchip manufacturing plant, Crimson was more than ready to fly into action. Any criminal can rob a bank, but it takes a more devious criminal to go after high tech stuff. And Crimson Paraplegic knows that stopping devious criminal masterminds can score some awesome publicity and endorsement deals.

Instead, Crimson Paraplegic found her old enemy Doctor Platonic committing the crime, this time with an army of Eliza Dushku robots in his employ (which Doctor Platonic had to identify for Crimson Paraplegic because she’s not familiar with Dushku’s work).

“Oh for shit’s sake, I thought you weren’t doing crime anymore now that you got a girlfriend,” says Crimson Paraplegic.

“The Lacrosstitute broke up with me,” says Doctor Platonic.

“You can find another woman,” says Crimson Paraplegic.

“I already have,” says Doctor Platonic. “Multiple ones! Dushku-bots, attack!”

Crimson easily handles the Eliza Dushku-bots with her super strength and apprehends the bad doctor. But after delivering him to the proper authorities, she can’t deny that something wasn’t quite right. This crime was way above Doctor Platonic’s means. And his usual M.O. was to score opportunities to get close to Crimson Paraplegic, but this time he unleashed his robots on her. Had his break-up with the Lacrosstitute pushed him further into super-villainy?

And if things were confusing enough, that night a bright spotlight hit the dark cloudy skies, displaying a giant handicapped symbol above the city.

“The Paraplegic signal!” she exclaims before realizing that our town doesn’t have a Crimson Paraplegic signal.

And so our crippled hero flies off to find out where the signal is coming from, and who wants her to find it…

To be continued…

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