Archive for the ‘Mercury Shadow/Crimson Paraplegic’ Category


Epilogue 2014 – Mercury Shadow and Crimson Paraplegic

December 23, 2013

Mercury Shadow officially retired from being a super hero, moving to a super hero retirement community in Florida after 20 years of defending our town and a 35-year career of being a shadowy protector of the night.  He left our town in the capable hands of his protege Crimson Paraplegic.

You may remember Crimson Paraplegic had put together a superhero group with Dragon Dyslexic and Anxiety Girl – the Disability Trinity.  Crimson spent the next year trying to get the group a movie deal.  Unfortunately they couldn’t get anyone in Hollywood to produce a super hero epic about a cripple who can fly and bench press trains, a genius detective and martial artist with dyslexia, and a teenager with severe anxiety problems who puts up force fields.  They couldn’t even get an action figure line developed for the Disability Trinity.  The risk adverse entertainment industry had no stomach for producing an all-females-with-disabilities franchise, which makes Crimson shake her head because they had no problems making that awful Green Lantern movie with Ryan Reynolds, and another shitty Wolverine movie too.  For fuck’s sake, they even did another Ghost Rider movie with Nicolas Cage.

Her superhero rival, Radiant Gale, scored a movie deal with Paramount for her Super Six Sorority (which Crimson refers to as the Cleavage and Cameltoe Collective because of the skimpy outfits their marketing department has them fighting crime in).  Sam Raimi is said to be on board to direct – shooting begins in 2015.

Crimson continues to fight crime and villainy wherever and still works at the local library under her civilian identity Shannon Monaghan.  In her spare time, despite the constant rejections, she still shops her screenplay for a Disability Trinity movie to any production company or producer she can scrounge up information for.  She’s not picky on who directs the project, but she will not under any circumstances let Kristen Stewart play her in the film.

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Look, supervillainy isn’t all deathrays and weather dominators

October 22, 2011

You’d think during hard economic times that there’d be an increase in supervillainy, but a nefarious plots for world domination take a lot of initial capital to get off the ground (literally in some cases) and the shadow banks that provide investments to supervillains aren’t making as many loans as they once did in more prosperous times.  This means a lack of high quality supervillains in the marketplace for superheroes to do battle with, and that hurts the marketability and sponsorship deals of our superheroes.

And so our local superhero Crimson Paraplegic has been forced to hold interviews to find a worthy arch-enemy who can catapult her popularity to the upper echelon of superhero-dom.  Her Craigslist invite got one response…

“Spiny Jack!” says the average-height man in khaki pants and a striped polo shirt. “Here to be your blood enemy!”

“So, do you shoot spines out of your body or something?”  says Crimson Paraplegic, not impressed with him.

“No, but my penis has spines on them, like a cat’s penis,” says Spiny Jack.  “See, a long time ago humans lost the DNA strand that would have had us evolving penis spines.  I apparently have that strand and… well, a spiny penis.”

“Okay…”  Crimson says.  “So no flight capabilities, no super strength, no energy-based projectiles?”

“Just a penis with retractable spines,” says Spiny Jack.  “Want to see it?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” says Crimson. “But tell me how does that make you a super villain?”

“I’m a rapist,” says Spiny Jack.  “A super rapist.”

Crimson lets out a tired sigh.  “Yeah… I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Why not?”  says Spiny Jack, hurt.

“First of all, all you have is a spiny dick,” says Crimson.  “I have flight, super strength, and you can drop  a train on me and it won’t even muss up my hair.  It’s a lopsided matchup.”

“Hey, some of us win the mutation lottery, and others don’t,”  says Spiny Jack.  “My DNA was playing musical chairs with the universe and when the music stopped I was in the spiked penis chair.  Not my fault.  It could have easily have been you with the barbed genitals, but no, it was me. So don’t judge me like you’re something special.”

“Okay… well, secondly I can’t have a arch-nemesis who’s primary evil deed is rape,” says Crimson.  “It’s not marketable.  Superman wouldn’t be nearly as popular as he is if Lex Luthor was a rapist instead of an evil genius billionaire.”

“We could break new ground here,” says Spiny Jack.  “The first supervillain devoted to rape vs. the first crippled flying superhero.  That’s a comic with a cult following waiting to happen. At least in Japan.”

Crimson remembers the Japanese superhero Rapeman, and ponders whether an inverse of that structure would work.  But only for a brief second before remembering that the idea is completely horrific.

“And third, I don’t want a rapist arch-nemesis because then that would assume that you want to rape me,” says Crimson.  “With your spiny penis.  That really skeeves me out.”

“What else am I supposed to do with a penis with retractable spines, huh?”  says Spiny Jack.  “It’s not like I can have a normal relationship with women.  Who would want to date a guy or start a family with a guy with a spiky dick?  What choice do I have but to be a rapist?”

Crimson wanted to tell him he could certainly choose not to be a rapist, but from a comic book narrative point of view he had a point.  Two main things defined characters in the superhero medium: personal trauma and deformities.  Spiny Jack had both, and in pure supervillain fashion those things drove him to villainy.  Specifically, the only villainy befitting a man with a spiked penis. But while this was a cogent storyline, it wasn’t one Crimson particularly wanted any part of.

“I still don’t think I’m the right arch-nemesis for you,”  Crimson Paraplegic said.  “My vagina is probably strong enough to rip those spines off, plus it’s not like I can feel anything below my waist anyway.  It kind of lessens the horror of your heinous violation of human dignity.”

“They grow back, the spines,”  says Spiny Jack. “Bigger than before.  And really it doesn’t matter to me if you’re horrified or even conscious when I ravage you.  I’m not in a position to be particular about how this goes down.”

“Look, there’s no way you being my archenemy doesn’t end with me punching you and either crippling or killing you,” says Crimson.  “And I have no desire to end up in front of the Superhero Disciplinary Board again on why I punched through someone’s skull or why the state has to pay for yet another paralyzed criminal.”

Spiny Jack looks crestfallen, which is not what you want to see a supervillain look like because it’s the first step toward them doing something really stupid and awful.

“Maybe I can refer you to someone else,”  says Crimson, taking out her iPhone and going through her contacts list.  “Oh, this might work…”

And so Spiny Jack became the archenemy of an old superhero academy friend: The Night Reclaimer.  Originally she was called Nocturnal Melody because her only superpowers were night vision and being pitch perfect, along with years of martial arts training.  She ended up being a Batman-like superhero for college towns, making sure the frat boys and jocks didn’t sexually assault sorority girls and co-eds at their parties.  Then she got a promotional deal with the Take Back the Night cause, switched her name and costume, and moved up patrolling the bigger state school campuses.

At first The Night Reclaimer wasn’t warm to the idea of a spiny-dicked rapist being her archenemy until Crimson informed her that beating up a supervillain was a lot more high-profile, and a lot more fun, than beating up football players. Plus while she got complaints from the alumni committee whenever she savagely beat up a starting quarterback who was banging a roofed-up unconscious freshman girl in his frat  house, no one would complain if she took liberties with Spiny Jack.

So everyone pretty much got what they wanted… except for whoever Spiny Jack grabs next and throws down behind a row of bushes.  But in Crimson Paraplegic’s book that’s The Night Reclaimer’s problem.


Your resume is weak, but your cape is impressive

April 22, 2011

Not everyone can pull off donning a cape.  Discounting body shape issues, capes are one of those wardrobe pieces that requires more than the average recommended daily allowance of confidence and balls-out bravado to wear well in public, especially if you don’t have superpowers, or you’re not Batman.  And maybe those Renaissance Fair or Society of Creative Anachronism people, though you usually have to be some sort of royalty in those groups for people to take your cape seriously.   So superheroes, supervillains, and people who are really into the 12th century… they’re who I think of when it comes to capes.

Note: I think I could pull off a cape, but only if it had armored shoulder pads on them with spikes, or fierce dragon skulls.  Something to make me look like I’m commanding an army from frickin’ Mordor.

I don’t, however, think of the unemployed when it comes to capes.  But some agency down in Flordia is trying apparently trying to get me change my mind about capes and the unemployed.  And it’s really not working.

As part of a new marketing campaign, Workforce Central Florida spent a reported $14,000 on red capes to hand out to jobseekers who visit their offices.People who are unemployed told WFTV that the capes aren’t going to get them a job and they say it’s a waste of money.

In a promotional video, Workforce Central Florida Board Chairman Owen Wentworth, dons a red cape to take on “Dr. Evil Unemployment” in the agency’s comic book-themed campaign.

The campaign which reportedly cost $73,000 includes thousands of red capes.

In fact, in the time it took me to write this post the program’s already been called off, its failure an idea now apparent to the fools that thought it up in the first place.  But it’s in the aftermath of such disasters that we learn the most, so I decided to check in with my cape expert, our local superhero Crimson Paraplegic who wears a vermilion cape of her own but also has a full-time job, for her opinion on this capes for the jobless issue.

Note: For the uninitiated, Crimson Paraplegic is a superhero who has superhuman strength and can fly, but is paralyzed from the waist down so her legs don’t work.  So she floats around with her legs dangling lifelessly under her.  It creeps the shit out of criminals.

“I don’t see how a cape and finding a job are connected,”  says Crimson.  “If you wear a cape to a job interview, I can guarantee you are not getting that position.”

“See, the head of the agency was in a video fighting Dr. Evil Unemployment,”  I say, referring back to the news story covering this idiocy.  “And so I guess the capes are a symbol of recruiting people to fight the evil doctor whose apparent superpower is putting people out of work.  Yeah, it’s even more insipidly ridiculous when you talk about it out loud.”

“And they’re not even decent capes,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.  “My cape gives me a formidable shape and is made from sturdy material.  Those capes don’t do anything but invite ridicule for their shoddiness.  You might as well be running around with a frickin’ bed sheet over your shoulders like a five-year old.”

“In this economy, if you’re an agency that helps people get jobs, I don’t think you need an ultra-slick marketing campaign to make people aware of your services,”  I say.  “Maybe we should be glad they didn’t try to do something like the Old Spice commercials.  Hello ladies… look at your job, now back to me, now back at your job, now it’s gone!  Here’s a cape.  I’m on a horse.”

“The last time I saw a non-superhero wearing a cape, it’s was the Cardinal of my local archdiocese,” says Crimson.  “And guess what?  He looked fucking ridiculous in it.  He wears it all the time though.  Maybe his superpower is making sexual abuse charges disappear.”

“I would have loved to have been in that meeting in Florida where they decided to blow a bunch of money on cheap capes for the unemployed,”  I say.  “Mainly for the purpose of looking the person who suggested this idea right in their stupid face and personally telling them how paint-drinkingly retarded their grand plan truly was in the harshest terms possible.  And then I’d tell the same thing to everyone else in that meeting who thought this asinine idea was good before resigning my position and leaving the board room with a free cape.”

“They could have given Shamwows for all those unemployed people,”  says Crimson.  “That would have been much more constructive than goddamn capes.  Probably cheaper too.”

“Sorry you haven’t worked in a year and half, here’s a Shamwow to dry your late night tears as you ponder whether this will be the month you lose your home,”  I say.  “That’s much more useful than a cape.  What’s the cape going to do for you?  Keep you warm as you sleep on a park bench?  Not with how small and flimsy those stupid capes are.”

“Maybe the capes are to make the unemployed more visible, as if to make others aware of just how many unemployed people there are in town,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.  “The problem with that hypothesis is that no other charity or cause has ever used capes to get their message across.  And charities and advocacy groups over the years have done some shit-stupid things to raise awareness of their causes, so that means capes were too dumb even for them.  You know how dumb an idea has to be for PETA to pass on it?”

I think we learned something useful today: You might want to reconsider your so-called great idea if it involves capes.  The crater left by your impending cape-centric failure will be larger than you think.


“And you will know my name is the Lord when I give all your children autism…”

February 23, 2010

My anti-depressant of choice is kitten videos, because there are no possible side effects like nausea, tremors, or increased thoughts of suicide inherent to watching a kitten fall asleep while licking its paw.  So after an extended weekend of kitten videos, women’s curling, and avoiding any discussion of how much Tiger Woods really likes vagina, I finally had the energy to try and rejoin the rest of the world. 

And it’s a good thing I picked now to do it because waiting for me on my doorstep was this story about Virginia state delegate Bob Marshall telling people that disabled children are God’s revenge against women who abort their first pregnancy.

“The number of children who are born subsequent to a first abortion with handicaps has increased dramatically. Why? Because when you abort the first born of any, nature takes its vengeance on the subsequent children,” said Marshall, a Republican.

“In the Old Testament, the first born of every being, animal and man, was dedicated to the Lord. There’s a special punishment Christians would suggest.”

“So, did your mom have an abortion before she had you?” I ask to my only disabled friend, local superhero Crimson Paraplegic.

“Well, I can’t ask her, she’s dead,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.

“Were your parents killed in a robbery and that’s why you became a superhero?”  I say.

“No, they died in a horrific six car pileup on the highway,”  Crimson Paraplegic says.  “The same accident that crippled me at age five.  My superpowers had only developed enough at that time to allow me to be the only survivor in that crash.” 

“So your disability wasn’t because a wrathful God was mad at your mom for having an abortion?”  I say.

“Not to my knowledge,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.  “Unless God was just biding his time and waiting for the right opportunity to cripple me and kill thirteen other people, including my parents, in one fell swoop.  But God hasn’t been efficient like that since he killed the firstborns in Egypt.”

“So you don’t think that God is going around crippling babies, giving them cerebral palsy, or making them retarded as part of a vendetta against women who aborted their first pregnancies?”  I say.

“I don’t know how much paint someone would have to huff to believe that,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “I don’t think Sherwin-Williams could manufacture enough to get me to say ‘Yeah, God totally would fuck up all your kids because you decided to get an abortion after getting knocked up at that after-prom party.”” 

“This sort of vengeance from God seems to contradict the message that disabled kids are a gift from God,”  I say.  “And they mean ‘gift’ in the good way, not like when we say that herpes is the gift that keeps on giving.”

“Yeah, punishment is not supposed to bring you joy,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.  “Unless you’re into getting punished.  But this seems outside those dominant/submissive boundaries.  I know some freaky people, but I don’t see any of them saying something like  ‘I’ve been so bad.  I need to punished.  Give my kids muscular dystrophy in the womb.”  

“Religion in general has a sort of BDSM vibe to it in general,”  I say.  “It sure explains why Pope John Paul II used to whip himself.”

“Yeah, but God doesn’t use safe words,”  says Crimson Paraplegic. 

And suddenly the universe became a more understable and kinkier place to live…


They don’t make buildings out of adamantium

January 19, 2010

So there was an earthquake in Haiti caused by Tiger Woods’ cock fueled by Mark McGwire’s steroids…  shit, the news is starting to run into itself again.  I need a drink, but I don’t feel like leaving my house, so I go up on the roof to have a few with my local superheroes Mercury Shadow and Crimson Paraplegic.

“So what are the role of superheroes in humanitarian crisiseseseses?”  I ask, admittedly inebriated, but that’s why I’m at home and not behind the wheel of a car.  I’m a responsible drunkard, thank you.

“Lifting things mostly,” says Crimson Paraplegic. 

“Unless you’re a superhero that can conjure medicine and drinkable water out of thin air,”  says Mercury Shadow.  “And while playing in the land of make-believe, let’s say you can also shit unicorns too.  Having heat vision eyes won’t help you get food, water, shelter, and medicine to thousands of people who just survived the earth swallowing their town.”

“Maybe during a disaster is where superheroes do their best work, if they happen to be there, when everything falling down around everyone,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.  “But after everything falls down, in the aftermath, there’s not much we can do other than dig up rubble and hopefully find survivors underneath.  Maybe dig some of those mass graves there too.”

“Do you really want Superman taking the time to dig mass graves?”  says Mercury Shadow.  “That is a messed up picture, man.”

“Disaster relief is a huge undertaking, requiring lots and lots of planning and resource procurement and allocation,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “Superheroes are not equipped to handle all those facets.  We can’t follow billions in relief aid and make sure it goes where it’s supposed to go.  We don’t have crates of food and medicine in our secret lairs (aka my first floor one-bedroom apartment).  Unless you’re Batman, but he’s prepared for everything.” 

“You can provide security, right?”  I say.  “Bring some sort of order to the chaos?” 

“To a point,” says Mercury Shadow.  “But a squad of soldiers would do a better job of maintaining order and safety.  Strength in numbers.”

“Also, it was determined that the Haitians would get really freaked out seeing me flying around with my unusable legs dangling under me,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.  “That’s why I’m not there.”

“So even superheroes feel helpless in a disaster?”  I say.

“Superheroes feel helpless all the time,”  says Mercury Shadow.  “The whole genre is born from helplessness.  Bruce Wayne was helpless to stop his parents from being murdered, so he now he’s Batman.  Peter Parker was helpless to stop his uncle from being murdered, now he’s Spiderman.”

“And there was that time I had food poisoning,” Crimson Paralegic said.  “Bullets can’t harm me but salmonella does?  I can lift a jumbo jet without breaking a sweat, but a batch of bad shrimp has me gripping my toilet for three days puking and crying.”

The caped life is a complex life.


My Super Decade… Directed By Peter Jackson

December 10, 2009

Because we’ve spent the last three days saying how much this decade sucked, we’re taking today to discuss what could be arguably the best thing that happened this decade with our local superhero Crimson Paraplegic.

“They finally were able to make really good superhero movies this decade,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “Spiderman, Spiderman 2, Iron Man, The Incredibles, Watchmen…”

“Don’t forget Batman Begins and The Dark Knight washing away the shame of the Joel Schumacher Batman movies from the 90’s,”  I say.

“And everyone in the superhero community is thankful for that because now we didn’t have to worry about some idiot putting nipples on our costumes,”  Crimson Paraplegic says, referring to the nipples on George Clooney’s batsuit in Batman and Robin.

“Well… to be fair this decade also had a bunch of bad superhero movies,”  I say.  “Those Fantastic Four movies weren’t very good.  The third X-Men movie was rushed and flat.  And that Superman Returns movie didn’t impress anyone either.”

“I consider that collateral damage for all the awesome movies we got,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.  “It’s like how nuclear power is awesome, but it also produces toxic waste.”

“X-Men Origins: Wolverine is some collateral damage,”  I say.  “Because man did that movie suck.”

“But at least the first two X-Men movies kicked ass,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “And that gives all of us in the superhero community a lot of hope that if Hollywood ever decides to make a movie about one of us that they won’t fuck it up.”

“Who would you want to direct the Crimson Paraplegic movie?”  I ask.  “Christopher Nolan because his work with the Batman movies?”

“Actually I’m sort of against that idea,” says Crimson Paraplegic.  “I didn’t like how he handled the only major female character in both films.   Yeah, I know you can’t do much with Katie Holmes, but Maggie Gyllenhaal is actually a good actress.  I’d like to see Darren Aronofsky do a superhero movie.  I believe he was originally supposed to do Batman Begins but didn’t for whatever reason.”

“A Darren Aronofsky superhero movie would be the most uncomfortable superhero movie ever,”  I say.  “Oh, it will still be really good, but you’d just be drained after watching it.”

“I could also go with Sam Raimi,”  Crimson Paraplegic said.  “He did two good Spiderman movies, which is two more than anyone thought he could.  Or Jon Favreau since Iron Man was so good.”

“If Uwe Boll calls you up, hang up the phone,”  I say.  “No, in fact, burn the phone.  Or Michael Bay.  Don’t take his call either.”

“Say what you want about Michael Bay, but that guy knows two things: how to blow shit up and how to make money,”  says Crimson Paraplegic.  “And if a Crimson Paraplegic/Michael Bay movie makes more than some other director and Radiant Gale’s movie, then I’m all for it.”

The 2010’s might just be the decade of Crimson Paraplegic.



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

October 6, 2009

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

June 16, 2009

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

May 8, 2009

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

April 8, 2009

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.

crimson smallnote


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