Monday, January 26, 2015


Glowing lumps of Kryponite. The green light radiated on Superman's face. He knew it meant weakness and sickness and certain death to pick them up, but flying and lifting tall buildings and helping people had become such a drag. He needed new thrills, and that could only come with danger. With the possibility that he might end up on the losing end of a confrontation. He blinked hard, swallowed, and made a high whimpering wheezing sound. Then he picked up the lumps of Kryptonite and stuffed them into his underwear. Feeling woozy immediately, he staggered onto the street and started shouting obscenities at the first man he saw, a rather burly bearded fellow who looked as if he probably drove a truck and ate several steaks at a sitting and didn't take kindly to speculation about what his wife and mother did together when he was on the road. As the man laid his fists and boots into Superman, he tried wanly to resist and felt a great tremble shoot up his spine at the uselessness of his efforts.

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