By John Leatherman
“When Super Guy is busy, call Super Gus!”
My purple-and-orange logo fades into a montage of my greatest work set to a dramatic score. To be fair, most of the guys I’m pummeling in the amateur cell phone videos are not actual villains but Justice Lounge drunks hoping to look tough by beating up a superhero—albeit a lanky, six-foot, 150-pound superhero with zero muscle mass.
The music drops, and my logo returns, along with my tagline: “Call Super Gus. Because Super Guy is really busy.”
The player stops, and TruTube pops up a half-dozen suggestions of superhero promo videos to watch next. How validating, to be on the same page with up-and-comers like Live-Wire, Commander Convulsion, and Burp-Quake.
With a deep inhale, Image Man strokes his chin, staring at the laptop at the far end of his L-shaped desk. His silvery bodysuit, covering all but his furrowed face, glistens under the fluorescent office lights as he contemplates in silence.
Awaiting his reaction, I fidget in my chair, balling a corner of my purple cape in my orange-gloved hand.
Finally, his chair creaks as he swivels to face me. “Gus, you did the right thing.”
I slide forward in my seat, spine straight. “Thank you, sir. Coming from you, that means—”
“You came to me. Out of all the hero coaches in this city, you chose me. Go see Colonel Charisma if you just want to discover your hidden superpower of self-esteem. Only Image Man Super Consultants will take the time and energy to build your brand. We’ve pulled tens of superheroes out of obscurity and into the headlines. Household names like…” With an outstretched hand, he gestures toward the back office.
A pinkish whirlwind whisks out, trailing loose Post-Its and memo pages in its wake. A second later, a young blond lady in red Spandex dotted with white lightning bolts stands beside Image Man’s chair. “Lambda Lady. Magno Man. Dyna Dude. Power Person.”
“Thank you, Temp Girl.” Image Man waves her away, and she zips back to the filing room. “So, Gus, what’s your push goal for the next quarter?”
“Well, first of all, my real name’s not Gus, it’s—”
He raises a shimmering hand. “No secret identities, please. This session is about you.”
“Yes, but that’s kind of the point. I thought more people would call me if I picked a superhero name that would land close to Super Guy in the phone book.”
“And how’s that working out for you?’
“Nobody uses phone books anymore. Especially not to call superheroes.” I sigh. “I hear people shout, ‘Help, Super G—’ and I think they’re calling me, but then they say uy instead of us.” I pause. “Wait, we might have something there…” I leap up and unfurl my cape, fist raised in my best stand-back-I’ll-handle-this pose. “Call Super Gus! Because there’s no uy in us!”
Image Man tsks and shakes his head. “How about we make a deal? You do your job, and I’ll do mine. You don’t see me swooping in to save the day, do you?”
I wince. “I don’t swoop.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Maybe I can get some altitude with a running start, but it’s hardly a swoop.”
Image Man rises from his chair. “You’re telling me you don’t fly?”
“You wouldn’t want me to. I get major airsick.”
He slaps his forehead and groans.
I swallow hard. “Why, is my not flying a problem for you?”
“No, no, we represent lots of terrestrials. There’s…”
Temp Girl zooms back to his side. “Sergeant Sewer. Gopher Guy. Worm Woman.”
“Exactly. Thank you, Temp Girl.”
She vanishes again.
“Your problem is clear.” Image Man strides around his desk to me. “It’s all in the presentation.” He tosses the edge of my cape. “When people see this, coupled with Super, they expect flight.”
I gasp, clutching my cape. “You mean I have to get rid of it?”
“You need to lose the cape or the name. And I think you’ve already made your choice.”
“I have?”
“You cling to that cape like your source of power. And Super Gus only exists so you can skim off someone else.”
True. All true. I bury my face in my cape.
“Gus, it’s time to kill Super Gus.”
“You’re right.” I look up. “It’s just—I put so much thought into this name. It’s not connected to my secret identity in any way. I cross-checked all the anagrams, acronyms, rhymes—”
“Gus, buddy? You’re way too obsessed with hiding your SID. Let me let you in on a little secret.” Hand on my shoulder, he whispers in my ear. “Everybody knows who we are.”
“What?”
He strides back around the desk. “You really think glasses fool your coworkers at the newspaper?”
“Actually, I distribute jump castles.”
“Professional journalists don’t notice their buffed-up colleague goes missing when stuff happens, yet he always files his stories on time? They know.”
“Why would they pretend not to?”
“To give us time off! Otherwise, we pack up and find another city to defend. It’s either who-was-that-mysterious-but-handsome-hero? or bow to the next crackpot with an incine-ray.”
“So… my alias doesn’t matter?”
“Oh, it matters. That’s why you’re here.” Image Man sits at his laptop. “Computer, activate the Name-inator.”
Image Man taps some keys. “Dude’s in a cape. Doesn’t fly. Repeat: Does. Not. Fly. Still able to fight crime. Generate name!”
The computer erupts into blips, bleeps, and high-pitched modem squeals. A loud chime silences the cacophony.
Rising, Image Man turns to me and shouts with I’ll-rule-the-world authority. “The Name-inator has spoken. Henceforth, you shall be known as…” He casts his arms toward me, palms up. “Captain In-Cape-Able!”
Temp Girl zips out to hand me an invoice for $1299. “Shall I set up a payment plan?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“Super Gus Gets Name Checked” was very entertaining! Don’t we all feel like our identity is fragile and needs to be perfectly chosen but always ends in a miserable fail. John ends his story with a great pun on Super Gus’ new generated name! Love this ! Brillant!
XD
Love the computer’s way of naming someone…
Great conclusion! This had me laughing all through it.
super entertaining…