Flyover City! A Novel (with Superheroes)

41. The End (dot dot dot, Question Mark)

I got a hair up my ass on the way into work today. I swung by Pablo's Coffee to try out their new "Danger Monkey Blend". 

(Of everyone involved, I guess it's not that surprising that he's the one the hipsters have all embraced.)

I was bent over, unlocking my bike, when somebody asked me if I had any spare change. 

That glint of emerald was long gone. There wasn't a hint of recognition in his eyes - just the yellow that comes from nicotine and too much moonlight. 

I asked what happened to him, after the explosion. Had he followed me in, or did he know about the tunnels, himself?

He just stared at me, impatiently. "You got any change, or not?"

I asked him about the war, the Allied Force, about his time in the monastery. He turned away from me, mumbling. 

As I rode off, I heard him calling out behind me: "Crazy fucker! I don't believe in ghosts, either!"

I guess some people's "ultimate sacrifice" is more ultimate than others.

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The new job is going pretty well - writing press releases is a pretty sweet gig. I could do without the calls from the media, though. Answering questions about Alton Vaig's whereabouts is almost as much fun as explaining to somebody why their cable's been shut off, even though they swear they sent the check last week. 

But you know those late night infomercials? For The Greyraven Diet Plan and Workout DVDs? I got my copy today - gratis. (minus the shipping and handling, of course)

I'm even getting along better with AVI. Put a couple Pez dispensers on his hard-drive, to give him a little flair. Still no good for happy hours, though. That's what I've got Spliff for, I suppose. I don't mind floating him 'til he gets a new job and all - but seriously, he's gotta stop with the questions.

Not that they let me in on any of the real important stuff. Who's the new Greyraven? Please. I will say, however - and this is strictly my own speculation, mind you - he does seem to have an abundance of medieval-themed weapons in his arsenal, lately. Just sayin'. 

I did find this pretty interesting, though: after Darkstreak took that sword to the spine, a few years back? Apparently, Greyraven injected him with Dr. Fang's meta-genetic SimStem compound, to help him heal. The same highly illegal substance the mad doctor used to create the Manitou Springs kaiju, and grow Deacon Struck to even more improbable proportions.

Which would explain the new, metamorphic-superhero who's been showing up on the news. Maybe. 

Or maybe it's just like he told me once: "Dumb luck". Which isn't such a bad superpower to have, if you think about it.

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On the home front, Gwen picked out a dress today. She won't tell me how much it was, but she swears she didn't put it on a card - so the argument wasn't too bad. 

We're cool, though. Really, really, good. I can't explain it... but it just feels right, you know? The way I see it, "alternate realities" and "" are just that.

But hey, who knows? 

Ask me again in ten years.