For years I wrote all kinds of short stories but one of my favorite genres was what I called Bubble Gum Super-hero. I’ve decided to breath new life into a character I created. I give you Guy Acton. – Adam
“And that’s when I looked the professor in the eye and said, I nailed it this time, didn’t I?” said Guy, leaning back in the iron chair of the cafe. He gave a nod and wink to passers by. Many recognized him, some even smiled back. His trademark black short hair with a wave in front, his square jaw that made engineers swoon and his beige trench-coat that he wore year-round.
“But you didn’t actually look at the report card, Guy,” said the long, red-haired woman in her late twenties sitting opposite him.
“You know, Robin. I don’t feel I need to this time,” replied Guy.
“Robyn. With a y,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Guy looked puzzled. “You could hear that?”
“Yeah,” said Robyn, sitting back with her arms folded. “I pick up things like that. It’s an amazing ability I have.”
“Oh,” said Guy. “I’ll make note of that.”
Robyn’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not like you’d know, I mean, us having been partners for ten years or anything.”
“Robin… I mean, Robyn, you sound down in the mouth. What you need is a double-douse of newness, and that’s exactly what this letter has in store for me. No more being on the third tier of super-heroing contracts. No more trying to get endorsements just to fix the Action Mobile. No, it’s going to be all different.”
Robyn banged her head gently against the iron table, making the tea cups and dishes rattle. “I should have listened to mom. I can’t believe she was right, AGAIN,” she said to herself through clenched teeth, her SourVille city accent shining through.
“Very funny there, Robyn. Come on. We’ll be back together and fighting crime on an EPIC scale in five seconds. Guy reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded, plain white envelope. He held it with two hands, straightening it, and gave it a sniff. “You know what, it smells like freedom.”
Robyn banged her head against the table again.
Guy overly carefully proceeded to open the envelope, tearing it a millimeter at a time.
Robyn banged her head against the table again before snatching the letter out of Guy’s hands. She tore the letter open. She removed and opened the letter.
“Here we go again. What is this? The eighth time?” said Robyn, snarkily.
Guy stopped himself from correcting Robyn. It’s been four years since they’d seen each other, and he didn’t feel it right to correct her, particularly with it having been the fourteenth.
“To Action Guy,” read Robyn, “in regards to your completion, once again, of the required Secret Identity Program, we are-” Robyn stopped, puzzled.
“What is it?” asked Guy.
“You… you’re certified. You actually,” she dropped the letter on the table and looked at Guy, stunned. In all the years, she never thought it possible.
“I did?” asked Guy, his huge brown eyes ready to swallow the whole cafe. He had the look of a four year old boy being offered a cookie for having cleaned his room.
“You did,” said Robyn. She leaned back and tapped her face with her fingers. “I thought this was impossible.”
“Wohoo!” yelled Guy, leaping to his feet, sending a cafe table next to him flying into the street, and into a parked car. “Do you hear that world, Guy Acton is now OFFICIALLY Action Guy!”
Robyn hit the table with her head again. Her phone chirped, and she instinctively glanced at it.
“They rescinded it,” she rolled her head back and forth on the table. “How do they even know I’m here?”
Next episode coming soon!
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