Latest Article|September 3, 2020|Free
::Making Grown Men Cry Since 1992
2 min read
I possess some super powers. I can fly, I’m very strong, etc. I am battling an evil nemesis in the auditorium of a large log-cabin meeting lodge. An interested audience of mortals stand against the walls and watch silently. My opponent attacks me by producing flying, glowing energy balls that would easily kill an ordinary man. I am able to deflect these back toward him or out through the walls by concentrating my own energy field. He finally relents but demands a rematch. The time is set for the next day. I am now totally exhausted. I go out to get some food from an unshaded outdoor vendor with a wooden-wheeled cart. It is my friend’s favorite place to eat and is run by an old oriental woman. He leans close to sniff and rubs his hands together in anticipation. The woman seems only to have an assortment of rather unappetizing creamed vegetables. I decide on a creamed spinach dish which looks more like overcooked broccoli in grey aspic. Somehow it is already time for my rematch. I have not slept. My wife runs up to tell me that I’m late and that I’ve already been announced. I say a quick prayer as I follow her in, gulping from my Styrofoam plate. I know that my opponent has had time to analyze our first fight an will be ready with something new this time.