» Thu May 03, 2012 9:17 pm Putting on the blue and yellow jumpsuit was the easy part. When I got the zipper all the way to the tip-top, it was time to wrap the leather harness around me. From there, I put the spray-painted blue and yellow vest over the harness. A painted blue and yellow steel left shoulder pad. I had to make room on my right shoulder for an easy-to-grab tazer. Both forearms had old police batons attached so that a simple of flick of the wrist would have them in my hands at the ready. Next I would wrap the metal codpiece around my waist, with the knee pads hanging down from that. I would then tighten the straps that came off the metal knee pads around the back of my knees. I had ankle high tennis shoes because I never got around to replacing a pair of boots. At this point, I was almost ready. The final piece, the most important piece. A leather pilot helmet, also painted blue and yellow with blue tinted goggles. Finally, with the straps tight so the hat wouldn’t fall off of my head, I was ready.
And I was off.
Now, keep in mind that I don’t know how to fire a gun. Because, well, the use of a gun would involve killing. And that kind of defeats the whole purpose of my purpose. I’m on patrol whenever I can. Day, or night, it doesn’t matter. As long as I’m not working or on a date or something. Then again it’s been somewhere around two decades since I’ve been on a date. I didn’t have a name. Or at least I didn’t have one yet. But that’s only because I haven’t caught anyone. Or at least I haven’t caught someone successfully yet. I’ve caught plenty of people or things in the times that I’ve been doing what I’m doing. They just get away. They get away really easily, actually.
Practice makes perfect, right?
I still remember my first catch. Sort of like how a serial killer remembers his first kill. Actually, nothing like that. Because the point is to stop those kind of people. Did I already get that across? That I’m one of the good guys? Well, I am. I fight bad guys. The bad guys tend to win, always. Anyways, I was out on patrol for the third time ever. So yeah, third time is a charm. I was walking through the shanty town that is outer Megaton, when I heard someone screaming. It was a woman! It was perfect. A man in shining armor (shining crotch, anyways) come to the rescue. I narrowed down the screaming to an unnecessarily dark and narrow alleyway. As my eyes adjusted to the dark within the already dark nighttime, I could make out two shadows fighting. The thicker, manly one was definitely winning. So the first thing I did was ruin my element of surprise by shouting “Stop!” This was my first mistake. The second mistake was assuming that I was rescuing a woman. The thicker shadow appeared to be a very large, ugly woman. The smaller one that was screaming was a man. Nothing special about him. Just a man getting robbed by a woman. The hulking monster came up to my and grabbed the top of my hat and lifted me up by it. Luckily I kept the strap nice and tight. As the rancid stench of her breath filled my nostrils, she giggled this bear roar. I flailed around like a puppet being played with by a dog, and went for my tazer which was on my belt at the time. Instead of grabbing it, I managed to slap it away and off my belt entirely. The disgusting elephant frothed at the mouth with joy, and threw me against the wall.
It was a good start. As she turned back to the man to continue beating him for his sack of caps, I shuffled around in the dark for my tazer. I can’t really explain this next part, because I don’t want to. But I found the tazer and I have the burns on my hand to prove it. I got back to my feet, and tackled the flesh skyscraqer from behind, and dug the electricity stick into her neck. The sparks lit up the alleyway, and the smell of burning flesh almost overpowered her body odor. Almost!
So before I went to help the innocent citizen, I tied up the smelly blob of flesh with some plastic ties I keep. Yeah, I’m basically a boy scout. So with the evil doer apprehended, I went to assist John Q. Public. My eyes had fully adjusted to the light at this point, and I could see that he was beaten pretty badly. I shook him awake, and helped him to feet. I told him to get out of there, before the [offensive name] were to wake up. He obliged, by kicking me in the codpiece with a force that made the metal totally useless. Anyways, long story short, he stole my boots and left me.
Turned out that he was actually trying to rob the woman, and she was using self defence. Her excuse for not telling me was that I was dressed like an idiot, and that no one could ever take me seriously and that she hopes I die soon. So I asked her why she smelled so bad. She was homeless. Lost her parents at a young age. Lived by herself before she could talk. My bad.
I guess you can’t actually call that a catch. Whatever. This time was different, though. I could just feel it. This patrol was going to be my first successful catch. I would take the bad guy to the sheriff, and he would get put behind bars. And how could that possibly come back to me? The whole thing really was fool-proof. I would finally make a name for myself. Or better yet, the people would make a name for me. I would be their watchful protector. The sheriff would ask me for help. People would give me high fives when I walked around the town. I couldn’t wait. I just knew that, that night, I would catch someone.
I am invincible!
I am a superhero.
