Of Heroes and Villains

Chapter 1

If Chris Calper could ask for one thing, and one thing only, it would be to be able to have a peaceful breakfast every morning. No news droning in the background, no screaming in the streets, and most certainly not that god-awful irritating laugh that haunted him far more regularly than he would like. Yes, even though he loved his duties as a hero, all he really wanted was a nice peaceful breakfast with a grand total of zero interruptions.

He sighed as he sat down at his creaky dining room table, fit perfectly for one, and breathed in the wonderful scent of fresh, hot, peaches and cream oatmeal. He sat still, trying to remember the last time he'd been able to have a fresh, hot breakfast. The fact that he was struggling to remember said enough, he decided. If he had been blessed to have a quiet morning then he would savor it with every bite.

Unfortunately, Chris Calper had never been given the opportunity to ask for just one thing to be granted, so of course, just as he lifted the first delectably steamy bite to his lips, he heard the very thing he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to hear for at least a few more hours: Some screaming in the streets, that awful *stupid* laugh, and what sounded like whatever crazy gadget the owner of said laugh had cooked up this time.

He let out a groan of frustration as he pushed his seat back from the table, taking one last longing look at his oatmeal, before zooming off in a flash of light and feathers, turning into a blur of blue and gold as he flew out his window to go deal with him again. Mister Malicious.

Mister Malicious took a look at the watch on his left wrist, tapping his foot impatiently; the tapping making a 'clang, clang, clang' from his perch atop his drone.

"He should be here by now, shouldn't he? It's been what," he checked his watch again, "six whole minutes? What could he possibly have going on that's more important than this? I show up, put everything into my projects all special so he can smash them up. I don't think I'm asking too much. Just his mostly undivided attention. I'm not being crazy or anything, right?"

He turned towards the person he was talking to, a man wearing a stained apron who was currently suspended upside down by the flexible metal cables coming out of Mister Malicious' drone.

"I dunno, Joe. Don't you think it's a little early for this? You haven't even bought yer bagel yet. And these restraints are a little tighter than they need to be."

"Oh! Sorry! I'll get that loosened up for you right now, Artie. Just let me remember which button..."

The blue and gold blur rushed through, knocking Mister Malicious back from his control panel.

"Ack!" Mister Malicious flailed his hands wildly as he fell backward. "M.A.R.G.O.!" he screamed. In response, a smaller flying drone rushed through, catching Mister Malicious before he completely lost his footing atop the larger drone.

Mister Malicious waved his hand in front of his face in a sharp jerk, as though wiping off his previous expression, and turned, replacing his neutral face with a comically sinister grin.

"Ace Eagle!" He cackled.

Ace Eagle stood tall on the titanium surface of the drone, though there was a stark difference between the classic hero pose and the posture Ace Eagle currently held. Where the stereotypical comic book hero would have his fists on his hips, Ace Eagle looked more like a tired dad trying to explain *yet again* to his kid why they can't just leave their dirty shoes on the coffee table.

He sighed deeply before responding to the grinning villain standing before him. With as little enthusiasm as a human can have, he said, "Mister Malicious." The name was so stupidly stereotypical that Ace nearly could taste it in his mouth.