Super Gus Gets Some Kicks

By John Leatherman

“Bow-Shock, your arrow-neous ways are off target! Seeing you quiver before justice is my aim!” Arms akimbo, I stand astride the ledge of the shattered window of the jewelry store.

Clad in a neon-green jumpsuit, Bow-Shock responds to my o-pun assault with a hail of arrows.

I backflip over the onslaught, my purple cape furling behind my orange bodysuit. “You archer making this diffic—”

Smash! Oops, didn’t see that traffic light. Head impaled, I dangle above the intersection, seeing red at such a green mistake.

Cocking his yellow fedora, Bow-Shock strides onto the sidewalk with a sinister chuckle. “You’ve left your headlights on, do-gooder!” He levels another arrow at me, savoring his moment. “Ha-ha-ha! Ah-ha-ha-ha! Ah-ha-ha—oof!”

“And in an amazing display of teamwork, Super Gus distracted Bow-Shock while Rad-i-Gal subdued him with a bus stop bench. Evil is defeated again—but for how long? I’m Cindy Solicitous for Adver City Super Six News.”

The newscast cuts back to a pompadoured anchorman in the studio. I turn my attention to my new colleague and friend, with whom I’m sharing an appetizer platter at the Justice Lounge.

Rad-i-Gal, clad in violet spandex, claims the last shrimp roll. “He just had to go for that third maniacal laugh.” Her blue eyes sparkle through her scarlet, butterfly-shaped domino mask, framed by bushy raven hair. “Ingenious, crashing into that traffic light. Even I thought it was a mistake at first.”

I clear my throat. “Well, if you stop to think about it, you’ll go light-headed.”

A passing guy in a green turtleneck calls out. “Hey, you two were just on TV!” He clangs a spoon against his glass. “Everyone, we have some distinguished guests tonight. Cheers to the heroes of the hour, Rad-i-Gal and her trusty sidekick, Super Gus!”

The patrons of the Lounge raise their drinks. A few clap and cheer.

Turtleneck leans close, and I wince from his halitosis. “You two were awesome. What do I call you guys, Rad-i-Gus? Is that a thing? We should make it a thing.”

Rad-i-Gal straightens up. “Sir, we’ve just met in the line of duty tonight.”

I nod. “Yes—and I’m no sidekick. Not since Zoomer-Bang.”

Turtleneck’s eyes widen. “You kicked for the legendary Zoomer-Bang? What, like, when Whipsaw was sick?”

“No, before Whipsaw. I was Zoomer-Bang’s first sidekick.”

Turtleneck whistles in amazement. “Well, I’ll be a holy cheese. Here I thought sidekicks had it easy. I even had it as a backup career option if things don’t work out at the Mini-Mart.”

I chuckle. “Oh, no. Nothing’s easy about sidekicking. It’s a very intense—”

“Didn’t know sidekicks could get fired.”

I scowl. “I wasn’t fired.”

Palms up, Turtleneck backs away. “Sorry, my bad. Downsized.” He drifts off into the happy hour crowd.

“No, it wasn’t like that.” I call after him. “I was a very good sidekick!” Springing up, I jolt my chair backward. “I kicked so much side, I’ve still got blisters on my—”

Rad-i-Gal taps my shoulder. “Easy, Gus. We captured the villain. That’s the important thing, isn’t it? Why do you care what some rando thinks about you?” She lowers her voice. “Remember, you can’t be a superhero until you’re super here, oh?” She places a pink-gloved hand over her heart.

Mouth agape, I stare at her.

She grins. “That’s free advice.” After fishing under her neckline, she pulls out a tenner and sets it next to the marinara-streaked platter. “See you around, Super Fuss!”

Free advice? More like my advice. From “Heroes 101: Your Alias and You,” my Learning Annex course last year. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it on TruTube.

Am I a has-flown already? I’d thought my career was taking off. I brought down Frau von Festerfeld. Frau von freaking Festerfeld!

Well, with some help from Zoomer-Bang.

Okay, a lot of help.

Oh, who am I kidding? ZB let me hold the rope.

Dejected, I stare at the empty platter until a waitress clears it away.

Reaching for my wallet, I rise. “One second, Miss. I owe you—”

She cuts me off with a wink. “Never mind, you’re square. Your friend settled.” She heads for the kitchen.

I start after her. “Hold on there. I don’t need her charity.”

An imposing figure in a blue bodysuit slides into my path. “Really? I thought charity was one of our core values.”

Stepping back from the Z-shaped lightning bolt across her chest, I gasp. “Zoomer-Bang!”

My old mentor smiles broadly. “Seeing you on the news today rekindled fond memories. Let’s talk in private.”

In a vacant party room, Zoomer-Bang produces a clipboard and pen. “I have something I’d like you to sign, Arnold.”

That’s right, Arnold. Not Gus. Folks, it’s called a secret identity for a reason.

Smirking, I give her a dismissive wave. “Aw, Christy, you don’t have to be ashamed about wanting my autograph!” I take the clipboard and squint at its fine print. “Wait, this is an application for a sidekick-ship!”

ZB shrugs. “I’d forgotten what a valuable team member I had in you, Arnold. And I know you’ve been struggling on your own. I mean, honestly. From Frau von Festerfeld to…” She stifles a giggle. “…Bow-Shock? I really think this could be a win-win.”

I shake my head. “I thought I’d left that life behind… Now I’m going back?”

She falters. “Well, uh, not exactly.”

I study the form’s verbiage more closely. “Whipsaw wants a sidekick?”

ZB shrugs. “She’s awesome, but she wouldn’t know a pun if you served a hamburger in it.”

Slamming the clipboard down, I slump onto a chaise lounge.

Sighing deeply, ZB sits next to me. “Arnold, old friend, think about this.” She puts an arm around my shoulder. “You haven’t read paragraph twelve yet.”

I peek at that section. “Profit sharing?”

“I can finally pay per-pun commissions.”

I seize the pen. “That’s a good sign!”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John Leatherman is a longtime member and former officer of Word Weavers International (Orlando chapter) who has won multiple awards from the Florida-Georgia chapter’s annual Tapestry contest. He has written book reviews for Christian Retailing and word games for International Puzzle Syndicate. A freelance writer, editor, cartoonist, and cruciverbalist, Mr. Leatherman maintains a secret identity as a software consultant with two kids.

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