My entry into the seventh topic of the Stop The Press Challenge: Superpowers. Make sure to zip over to Stop The Press’s profile and see what it’s all about.

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The Flamer

There was once a superhero known as The Flamer. He wore pink. Lots of pink. Leather. It was very glossy and he had many piercings (most of which will not be spoken of).

He was a good superhero despite the critics’ claims, slapping many an evildoer with his Purse of Justice and 1/2 Off Coupons at Bath & Body Works.

His cape was a shimmering rainbow that blinded its opposition with a massive and omnipotent fashion statement. His special move was the Pride-Slap, and his foes fell to their knees before him when it was used. His friends fell to their knees before him, anyway. His super-special move was the Pride Parade, and when it was unleashed, it was an awesomely intimidating spectacle.

His hair tended to change every week, but every day of every week it was wild yet serene, strong yet timid, and blue yet red.

He could not fly, but he could leap, and leap he did, tall buildings in a single bound and taller buildings in a half a bound. His strength was regular, not super, but after he had dazzled his foes into submission a six-year old could have knocked them unconscious.

His voice was not too authoritative, though he did not lisp extremely either. It was a calm and tranquilizing assertive voice.

He was a super man with super powers and he did super things to protect a super city. Then he got super AIDS and died.