"The Worst Superhero Ever"
By day, he was Eric Gable: mild-mannered gas station attendant; by night he was—THE PROCRASTINATOR! (Neither one of those was a particularly lucrative career, and later on in his life he would make money by going around to public high schools and giving seminars on the pitfalls of being a superhero). His gas station job paid practically nothing and the superhero gig paid even less, so he lived in the apartment above his sister's garage and ate a lot of ramen noodles and instant mac-n-cheese.
On any average day, he would wake up around 4:00 in the afternoon, when his sister (Cassie) came home from a hard day of administrative assistanting and parked her car in the garage. The automatic garage door made a great deal of noise, which would wake him from his slumber. He would yell down to her:
"God damn, Cassie! Could you make a little more noise there!"
"You're twenty-three years old and you live in your younger sister's garage, so shut the hell up!" Would always be her reply, which usually shut him up.
At around 6:00 he would head on over to the gas station, where he worked 'til about midnight. Every Wednesday, the station sold Premium for the same price as Unleaded. It was on those days that the beautiful—though borderline retarded—Elise Capitalism would show up in her Escalade. Eric was in love with her: he liked the fact that she was dumber than he was, and that she was the only daughter of the richest man in town and heiress to the Capitalism Oil fortune. Eric figured that one day he would know how to pronounce enough big words to confuse her and trick her into marrying him (or at least sleeping with him and buying him lots of expensive things that he could pawn).
"Well hello, Elise. You're looking ravishing today." He said to her, when she came in one Wednesday. He had heard the word "ravishing" a few days before on a perfume ad.
"Did you just say it looks like I have a rash?! Oh my god!" She exclaimed.
"No, 'ravishing'. It means, uhh… pretty." He assumed; he wasn't really sure what it meant.
"Oh… well thanks!"
"So, Elise, how 'bout you and me go get a drink sometime?" He was trying to be smooth.
She giggled. "Nooo. I got a boyfriend. He sells crystal meth." She replied. "I don't know what that is, but it sounds really pretty. I know it involves breaking a lot of people's kneecaps though."
"Plus you're really dirty, and you haven't shaved in a while, and you smell like gas. What's up with that anyway?"
"… I work at a gas station."
So Elise left the gas station and began to walk out to her Escalade, but all of the sudden she was jumped.
"Gimme your money, bitch!"
"Nooo! … It's mine!"
The assailant grabbed her and Eric began to panic.
"This looks like a job for—THE PROCRASTINATOR!" He exclaimed, and leapt into the filthy, gas station restroom. He emerged clad in plaid spandex that was—unbeknownst to him—torn at the ass, along with a cape he'd made out of an old, flannel sheet.
"You leave that young, rich, sexy lady alone!" The Procrastinator exclaimed, attacking Elise's mugger and defending her honor.
"Oh my gosh! Stop! You're gonna kill him!" She shrieked, to The Procrastinator's surprise.
"But… but he—"
"That's my boyfriend! He's not a real mugger! He's actually a crystal meth salesman! He must just be joking around… yeah, that's it, joking around! … He wouldn't actually mug me… he loves me… right, honey? … Right? … Honey?"
"ACK! SHUT UP BITCH!" He was vomiting, and coughing up blood, and spitting out broken teeth.
"You could've killed him!" Elise reiterated.
"But… but he was gonna—" The Procrastinator stuttered.
"You're the worst superhero ever Procrastinator!"
"… Aww, man."