“It’s part of my superhero armory.” he answered.
“Riiiggghhht….I see. Can you tell us your superhero name, Julie?”
“It’s Batman.”
Both agents looked across to each other and sighed.
“That's already been taken, you can’t use that!” remarked Agent One smiling apologetically.
“Why not?” roared Julie. “I’m a man with a bat. Who said I can’t use the name Batman? I’ll smash their face in!”
“Well technically it’s a trademark violation and the damage of infringement could mean we get sued millions.”
“Who took it?”
“Batman did. The Batman.” said Agent One.
“Then I’ll call myself Man-bat.” hissed Julie.
There was a sharp intake of breath and the agents shook their head slowly from side to side.
“What now?” shouted Julie.
“You can’t have that name either. Man-bat is the super-villain archenemy of Batman. Let me help you out on this one. We’ll call you Man-with-bat. How’d you like that? It has a nice ring to it don’t you think?”
Julie thought for a moment then nodded his head.
“I like that.” he said.
“Good, okay Man-with-bat, so why do you want to join R.A.S.H?” asked Agent One.
“I want to hurt people, lots of people.”
“An excellent career path, but just to clarify on that statement, we're talking about just bad people, right?”
Julie shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Undecided? We’ll come back to that one,” said Agent One. “Have you any past experience in fighting?”
“I used to be a former wrestler.” grunted Julie.
“Oh really? What was your ring name?”
“Julie.”
“What? Was it like Julie the Barbarian or Psychotic Jules? Something like that?”
“No, it was just Julie. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not at all, it’s original, I like it. Others may have gone for something a little more intimidating like Captain Crush, but you kept it real. Can you tell us a little bit about your superhero power, Julie?”
“I don't feel pain,” said Julie smugly. “I suffer from congenital insensitivity to pain.”
“Yes, but correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s more of a rare condition than a superhero ability, wouldn’t you say, Julie?”
“It’s my power and no-one can hurt me.” he said adamantly.
“But you’re not immune to death by blood loss, are you?” remarked Agent One tentatively. “So you could still in fact…you know, die.”
“Are you turning me down for the job?” asked Julie in a dangerously low voice with his fists clenched.
“It’s a difficult one Julie, I have to be honest. Being muscular does not necessarily mean you are good at crime fighting. From an aesthetic standpoint, you look as though you could scare the crap out of any criminal, and when I say any criminal, I mean anything that actually breathes and has two eyes. We’re a privately independent company just starting up in the London area and we have a reputation we’re looking to build. Our action plan is to tackle crime and make London a safer place to live and make money while we’re doing it. It will be dangerous work, but I fear for my life if we don’t sign you up and I fear for my life if we do so…you’re hired!”
Julie grunted and nodded his massive head.
“Your gratitude is overwhelming, Julie,” said Agent One. “If you want to go help yourself to some egg-whites while we fill out some paperwork and interview the next candidate.”
With a growl of acknowledgement Julie pushed his body from the seat and scooped up his bat, then towered over the agents for a moment staring down at them both.
After a few long seconds of intimidation he turned and left the office, slamming shut the door so hard it rattled on its hinges.
“My throat hurts.” croaked Agent Two massaging his neck.
“He’s perfect, don’t you think?”
Chapter Four
Multiple-boy
"Amazing!" whispered Agent Two peering at each clone in turn before sitting back down at the table next to his colleague who wasn’t looking too impressed.
"Thank you!" answered the three identically dressed superheroes.
Agent Two looked across to Agent One and shrugged his shoulders in exasperation at his lack of excitement.
"How can you not be blown away by that?" he cried pointing at the three young boys wearing matching black eye masks, black cape, yellow belt and skin tight blue leggings. "He can make an exact replica of himself!"
"How old are you again, Multiple-boy?" asked Agent One glaring at the boys suspiciously.
"14." they replied in unison.
"Isn't there some law against child laborers under the age of 15?" asked Agent One turning to his colleague. "I think it's punishable by a heavy fine."
"But we haven’t got any money so it doesn’t matter. I'm excited, I really am. It's good to finally see someone with genuine superhero power, don’t you think? He's put the effort in, he's come in character and he's shown his ability. I like what I see."
Agent Two looked at Multiple-boy with a wide beaming smile on his face and clapped his hands together in delight.
"Who made your superhero costumes?" he asked gleefully. "They are just fantastic."
The boys made to speak but the agent raised his hand stopping them.
"Just one of you answer because that's getting irritating really fast."
"Our mum made the outfits," said one of the boys. "She did our hair too!"
"You can tell her that the agents of R.A.S.H said she did a great job." commented Agent Two in appreciation.
"She's just in the corridor. Do you want me to go and fetch her?" asked the boy pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the door.
"The little boys brought their mummy along, how lovely," piped up Agent One. "Did she bring you a bagged lunch too?"
"She did actually," answered the boy nodding his head. "Ham and cheese sandwiches with the crusts cut-off just the way we like them, carrot sticks, an apple and a bottle of milk."
Agent One flapped his hands and rolling his eyes.
"Ignore him," said his colleague. "I'm really excited about your power. So you can create duplicates of yourself, perfect copies? Do you have independent thoughts or does one control the other clones?"
"We each have our own thoughts and do what we want really." answered one of the boys with a simple shrug of his shoulders.
"Brilliant, so can you tell me at what age did you develop the ability to duplicate yourself?"
"It was from birth."
"You exhibited your abilities from the day you were born?" asked Agent Two with a frown.
"Yeah, we were born with this ability."
Agent Two nodded his head deep in thought, and then looked over to Agent One who was patiently waiting for realization to dawn on him.
After a couple of minutes he stopped nodding his head and looked back up at Multiple-boy.
"Your mother had triplets, didn’t she?" he asked.
"Yes," answered the boy fidgeting from foot-to-foot. "Can we go now? There's no zipper on the front part so I need to undress to go to the toilet."
Chapter Five
Captain Fanspastic
The two agents stared long and hard at the old man with the untamed white hair who was sat slumped forward in his wheelchair, his glassy eyes fixed on them with his head tilted to the side as he gulped down oxygen from a cylinder strapped to the chair.
"Just to verify, that man is indeed confined to a wheelchair." remarked Agent One.
Agent Two chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he did so but he quickly shut up when Agent One threw him a look of horror.
"Is something amusing you?" he asked. "This man is here to be interviewed."
"No, not at all." replied Agent Two shaking his head innocently and looking away.
"Then behave yourself!" his
sed Agent One scathingly. "Don’t laugh at him. Make eye contact, talk normally and don’t stare at the wheelchair."
The agent composed himself, sniffed, then looked up and burst into laughter.
"Seriously agent, you can't laugh at a person with a disability in a wheelchair." said Agent One in annoyance.
"I'm trying, I really, really am." he cried hiding his face on the table and banging the surface with his fist.
"Pull yourself together, man." whispered his colleague leaning in close to him.
"I…I can't help it," gasped Agent Two looking up with tears streaming down his face. "I'm a bad, bad person I know, but just look at him!"
Agent One gave a sigh and mouthed an apology to the old man huddled in the wheelchair who just stared fixedly back with no hint of emotion on his wrinkled face.
The table was rocking uncontrollably as Agent Two wiped away the tears that were rolling down his face while continuing to laugh hysterically. After a few moments Agent One smirked, then the smirk turned into a smile and he began laughing too, and then they couldn’t stop the reaction, no matter how hard they tried.
"Where's the rest of him?" wheezed Agent One. "He looks all shriveled."
"I swear I'm going to faint any second." gasped Agent Two struggling to catch his breath.
"Look! Look! He's drooling. Go mop his mouth."
"I'm not touching him, you do it." roared Agent Two.
"How fast do you reckon he could maneuver that thing to chase criminals down? We'd better send a memo out to the criminal underworld that if they see us coming they can't flee faster than walking pace."
"And if they go into hiding the place must be fully equipped with wheelchair ramps and all arrests will be at crotch level," giggled Agent Two. "And the best bit of all, if he ran into a criminal, they’d have to apologize."
After a while their laughter dried up to the occasional snigger and then a heavy awkward silence fell on the interview room.
"It's the General, I'm telling you," said Agent Two knowingly. "He's playing a prank on us. It's good but it's ridiculous and we haven’t got time for this."
"Go and have a word with him and get the next candidate brought in, agent."
Nodding his head Agent Two pushed his body up from the table and wandered past the wheelchair-bound man shaking his head in mirth as he did so, then left the room for a minute.
"Sorry about that, it was very inconsiderate of us, but very sporting of you for joining in with the joke at our expense." said Agent One to the man in the wheelchair who sucked in a lungful of oxygen.
Suddenly an angry raised voice could be heard from the corridor and then Agent Two scuttled back into the room closing the door behind him quickly with some paperwork in his hand. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and sat back down at the table with a deadly serious expression on his face.
"What did he say?" whispered Agent One looking confused.
"Uhm…well, these are the file notes for this gentleman from the General. He's one of the VIP superheroes brought in today. His name is Captain Fanspastic and he's pretty much the smartest brain on the planet. He's a complete paraplegic and has Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis."
"What does that mean?"
"It means he has total confinement in a wheelchair but we have to call it a data-driven machine."
"Looks like a wheelchair to me," whispered Agent One nervously. "Maybe we could customize it?"
"The General said we have to give him every consideration as an equal opportunities employer. He said we should think of the benefits."
"What like, his phenomenal brain power?" asked Agent One.
"Forget his incredible intellect; if we hire him we would never have a problem finding a parking spot."
"True!"
"As a small business we could gain tax incentives hiring a disabled person."
"The General is pure genius."
"We would have free road tax and think of the PR for the company. It tells people we don’t let barriers stop us from tackling crime, even if it means we need to transfer Captain Fanspastic to a toilet every once in a while. It sends a message out that we help people overcome challenges and are leading the way, and that we can be trusted. Gain the trust; get the customers and the money starts rolling in."
"That's why he's our leader." said Agent One proudly.
"He did also mention it's against the law to discriminate against a disabled person because of their disability in a recruitment process, but that's just a minor detail."
"Quick question, would we really ever be put in a position whereby one of us would have to transfer him to a toilet? I mean, really?"
Agent One grimaced then looked over to Captain Fanspastic with a happy smile on his face.
"Looks like you're hired!"
"Assholes." said a robotic voice before the old man's clawed hand twitched on a control on the wheelchair and it spun around 180 degrees to face the door. "Would someone get the door?"
Chapter Six
The summons
The General’s head snapped up from the paperwork he was reading at his desk as the door opened to his office and the two agents waltzed in talking casually amongst themselves.
His eyes bristled with irritation as he gave them both a long scrutinized look of contempt. A minute passed and nothing happened as they continued in conversation broken by the occasional chuckle. It was only when the two agents glanced up and saw the glare on the General’s face that they realized they were the focus of his annoyance.
Rolling his short neck the General slid himself from his chair and walked around the desk towards the agents smoothing down his pencil thin moustache with the tips of his fingers as he did so. He was an exceedingly short man with thinning black hair scraped back over his head and had piercing storm grey eyes that exuded power and authority. His crisp navy suit was adorned with miniature medals over his left breast and his black shoes gleamed like a mirror's surface.
The General stood uncomfortably close to Agent One, eyeing him up and down slowly with his stumpy arms clasped behind his back. With a grunt he moved over to Agent Two and gazed at him, then grunted once more. Shaking his head the General rubbed at his eyes, hard; and when he opened them again he blinked rapidly and shook his head again in disbelief.
“Just checking, but yes, both are still here right before my eyes in my very own office.”
“Sir?” queried Agent One with a frown.
“Did you two useless cretins just barge your way into my office without knocking?” barked the General thrusting his chin up towards them. “Did I say you could enter my office? There are options before just opening the door and they involve politely making me aware of your presence, waiting the obligatory 20 seconds until I respond, and then entering. Do you two imbeciles not understand the hierarchy of power?”
Agent Two licked his lips nervously and opened his mouth to say something but the General rounded on him with his eyes blazing angrily.
“Are you an agent, boy?”
“Y-yes, sir.” he stammered back.
“You sure don’t look like an agent to me. Is there something contributing to your slouching? Do you have curvature of the spine?”
“No, sir.”
“Then shoulders back, stomach in, chin up, chest out and stop slouching.” roared the General with spittle flying from his mouth.
Both agents straightened up instantly and swallowed hard waiting for the next onslaught.
“You agents are a disgrace to this agency!" snapped the General pacing up and down the room.
“Sir.” agreed the agents.
“Can you clowns run this show? Why don’t we go into your office? Are you the new big boys in town, huh? huh?” he asked pausing to look up at them both.
“No, sir.” they said.
“Then you know what to do then, don’t you?”
Both agents looked at each other unsure what he meant and after a moment of whispering between them the General took a deep, calming breath.
“It’s a good job for you agents that I have exceptional anger control. Now remove yourself from my office and re-approach the door, announce your presence and await my instruction. Remember; conduct yourself properly at all times. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Turning quickly on their heels both agents scuttled from the office and closed the door behind them quickly.
“What just happened?” whispered Agent One.
“Beats me!”
Agent Two knocked tentatively on the door and there was silence from within.
“He’s going to make us wait 20 seconds isn’t he?”
“Looks like it.” answered Agent One.
“Enter!" said a pleasant voice from beyond the door.
Agent Two reached for the door handle with a trembling hand, opened it and they stepped back inside the office just as the General put away his stopwatch.
“Ahhh…very good, posture is important, agents,” said the General pulling himself back onto his chair so he could face them across his desk. “Now, tell me what's so important that you had to come into my office without knocking?”
“Uhm…you shouted for us across the corridor, General!” replied Agent One.
“Did I?”
“Yes, sir.”
"Oh yes, I must have. Very well, so how did our 4 potential superhero recruits do?"
"There wasn’t a great deal of superhero ability on show today, sir," said Agent Two. "And when I say a great deal, I mean there was none at all."
"Disappointing!" grunted the General. "I wasn't expecting a complete lack of superhero powers."
"Well sir, lack gives the impression that there was a shortage and shortage gives the impression of a scarcity of supply from something that was there in the first place." continued Agent Two who finished with an apologetic smile.
The General mumbled something under his breath and thumbed through the papers on his desk before selecting a document.
"What about the woman, Black Widow?
"Nice ass, legs and thighs, sir. She definitely a keeper, just don’t marry the woman." replied Agent One.
R.A.S.H (Rent.A.Super.Hero) (Society of Heroes with Indeterminate Talent Book 2) Page 2
