To Save the City

“I’ll have you this time!” Mighty Man cried, as he swung for Pudgemaster’s jaw. Pudgemaster dodged, just in time, then leapt off the edge of the building, cackling like a fiend as her backpack expanded into two massive robotic wings, carrying her far out of sight.

Mighty Man sighed, defeated, and headed down the rooftop access to the interior of the bank, ready to face the police and the mayor, who were just now arriving.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Mayor,” he said, as she ran up to him wearing a crisp suit and a worried expression. “She got away with the gold.”

“Never mind that,” the mayor said, in the no-nonsense tone that had served her well in board meeting and campaign trail alike. “The bank is FDIC insured, and they haven’t yet updated their Terms and Conditions to exclude acts of supervillainy, so they will recover. But you –” she pointed at his arm, where the spandex was singed black and a burn weal showed through the gaping fabric. “You are injured.”

Mighty Man shrugged, he hoped heroically. “Pudgemaster has apparently been working on her ray guns. Pity she hasn’t spent as much time on her aim. It’s a scratch, Ms. Mayor, a little triple antibiotic and I’ll be fine.”

“I’m glad the city has you to defend it,” she said, and her eyes shone for just a moment before she recollected herself and went no-nonsense once more. “I’ll have to give you another medal, you know. I’m afraid I’ve given you all the standard ones, though, so I’m going to have to start making them up. Would you prefer the Medal of Fearless Heroism, or the Accolade of Unwavering Bravery?”

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” Mighty Man said, sweating under his mask. Spandex was not a very breathable material. “In fact, I think I should be going now.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your work of protecting the city. Thank you, Mighty Man. And –” she continued with just the barest twinkle of mischief in her eyes, “I’ll be in touch about that medal.” 

“Right, Ms. Mayor,” Mighty Man said, wincing, then hopped onto his Mightycycle and sped off. He took a roundabout route on his way, as he always did, taking great care not to be followed, and eventually turned onto the secret route to the lair he shared with his sister.

When he pulled in, Pudgemaster was already waiting for him, despandexed and nearly dancing with glee.

“It worked!” she shouted. “Did you see it? Did you see me fly?”

“Of course it worked,” he grumped, snapping off his mask with a sigh of relief. “I wouldn’t have let you jump off the damn building if I wasn’t sure it was going to work. We’ve been testing it for months.” He paused, then added dryly, “Glad to see the ray gun is working as well.”

“Those are really going to come in handy,” she said, grinning. “We’ll outfit the Pudgebots with them, and then I’ll be a match for any rival gang that tries to pop up.” Pudgemaster ruled Metropolis’s undercity with an iron hand, ruthlessly quashing human trafficking rings, channeling drug users into safehouses or rehab, and ensuring that when gangs charged protection money, they actually did the protecting. Mounting the Pudgebots with ray guns was probably a bit superfluous, Mighty Man reflected.

“You could be a bit more careful,” he said, angling the burn on his arm to her view. “That’s my punching arm.”

“I’ve been practicing on barely hitting targets for weeks!” she protested.

“It still stings,” he muttered.

“What about that concussion you gave me three weeks ago?”

“I said I was sorry!”

“And I’m saying I’m sorry now. Here, I’ll get the first aid kit. Gotta get that covered up, we’ve got dinner with Big Sis at seven.”

He asked, ”The gold?”

“Already donated, through the usual anonymous channels,” she said, returning to his side with a plastic case in hand. “The nonprofits are swimming in capital. Minus a few bars for research and development, of course.”

Mighty thought about protesting, then just nodded. After all, the bank was insured. As she doctored his arm he said hesitantly, “Pudge, do you think it’s about time we … give it up?”

“Why would we do that?” she asked, smearing salve on his wound with a light touch. “The construction industry is booming, employment is at an all time high, tourism is way up, and incomes and tax revenues are skyrocketing. Ms. Mayor is poised to become the leader of the city to live in, and that’s largely thanks to us. Just like you and I planned;”

“Yeah, but –” Mighty Man’s voice went quiet, guilty. “They all think I’m a hero.”

Pudge looked at him for a long moment, then said, “Do you want to switch?”

“What?” he asked.

“It’s not such a crazy idea,” she said. “Say we build a mind control device, and I use it to swap our personas. Then you threaten the town with it, I destroy it, and bam! You’re the villain. I’m the hero.”

“I don’t think I can pretend to be you, Pudge. I have enough trouble pretending to be me.”

“Personas, not personalities. You’d still be you, I’d still be me. Just on different sides.”

Still he hesitated. “Mind control is a pretty big step up from ray guns and flight packs. Where would we even start?”

“The mind control device doesn’t have to be real,” she said gently.

He just looked at her, processing the idea.

“Villains don’t get medals,” she added, her voice going sing-song.

“Tell me more about this plan,” he said.