still considered the act of flight to be something that you saved for work. Even when he took to the skies, he’d be low about it.
Atomik Lad just sat back, took in the pleasures of excessive legroom, and tried not to think about the horrible vehicular anarchy around him. It seemed to him that lanes had been relegated to the status of suggestion some generations ago. He assured himself there was something like a system at work, or else the entire city would grind to a halt as the streets choked on the scrap metal of every vehicle colliding into those around it. “Hey, I didn’t tell you yet, I've got a date to Nuke's party,” Atomik Lad said with a smile too big for his head.
“Awright! Working that ol’ Atomik Mojo, huh?”
“I wouldn't say that.”
“Oh?”
“Nah, it's my natural charm. It's a curse.”
“Whoa, excuse me, Dr. Love,” Norman said with a chuckle as Atomik Lad basked in a few minutes of normality.
__________
Nuklear Man felt calm, serene, pristine, free. Very, very free.
Too free.
“My Overoos! They’re...they’re gone!”
He ducked underwater, shot into the air, and hurtled toward the Silo as fast as he could. Gotta fly faster than I've ever flown before! he thought to himself. Truth be told, however, he was a good forty miles per hour slower than his Earthbound top speed.
__________
The Tungsten Titan and Atomik Lad strolled through the wide alleys of the largest mall on the face of the Earth: The Metroville Mall. The Mecca of Shopping. A cult, the exact size of which was under debate, was believed to bow west four times a day in honor of its Biblical importance to capitalism. The Metroville Mall seemed to exist in a reality all its own. A very manicured reality that hadn’t yet invented dirt.
“So what do you think we should get him?” Norman asked as they walked among shoppers and shops.
“I don't know. He’s so hard to shop for,” Atomik Lad said.
“Does he need anything?”
Atomik Lad stopped and thought. “Nothing with repeatable uses.”
Norman nodded in agreement. “Oh yeah, the Label Maker Incident.”
“You know I had ‘Danger: Sidekick’ on the back of my outfit for a week before I noticed it?”
“Hmm. Well, who else is gonna be there?”
“You, me, Rachel, Angus, and Dr. Genius if we can get her out of the lab. Oh, and I was thinking about inviting The Minimum Wage Warriors.”
“Nah, they gotta work weekdays.”
“Guess you’re right. Just us then.” They continued their walk down the endless road of entrepreneurialism. “Hey, where do you think we should have the party?”
“I like the beach,” Norman said. “Ooh, especially Larson Beach. Lots of sun and lots of chicks. And according to the weatherman, tomorrow’s waves are going to be sweet!”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Norman nudged Atomik Lad in the side, which had the effect of nearly knocking him over. “Even get to see this Rachel of yours in a swimsuit.”
Atomik Lad's retort was interrupted by another retort from behind, “Hold it right there, Mr. Muscle-Oil and Spandex Kid.”
The heroes spun around and faced a motley group of seven individuals who, judging by their outfits and demeanors, must’ve thought of themselves as villains. The heroic duo reflexively jumped into defensive stances. The rest of The Mall seemed strangely empty of the shoppers it usually contained at this time of day. Atomik Lad could feel it. A showdown was a-brewin’.
“What are you guys supposed to be?” Atomik Lad asked.
A wiry man stood in front of the other six. He had the angry, weaseled face of a man who’d had too much of what life was offering with creases forged by the frustration of not knowing what to do about it. He was clearly the leader, though it seemed to Atomik Lad that h attained that lofty position by being the only member of the team with enough petty ambition to take it. “Allow me to introduce us.” He pointed to a rocky mammoth of a man, “This is Granite,
Atomik Lad just sat back, took in the pleasures of excessive legroom, and tried not to think about the horrible vehicular anarchy around him. It seemed to him that lanes had been relegated to the status of suggestion some generations ago. He assured himself there was something like a system at work, or else the entire city would grind to a halt as the streets choked on the scrap metal of every vehicle colliding into those around it. “Hey, I didn’t tell you yet, I've got a date to Nuke's party,” Atomik Lad said with a smile too big for his head.
“Awright! Working that ol’ Atomik Mojo, huh?”
“I wouldn't say that.”
“Oh?”
“Nah, it's my natural charm. It's a curse.”
“Whoa, excuse me, Dr. Love,” Norman said with a chuckle as Atomik Lad basked in a few minutes of normality.
__________
Nuklear Man felt calm, serene, pristine, free. Very, very free.
Too free.
“My Overoos! They’re...they’re gone!”
He ducked underwater, shot into the air, and hurtled toward the Silo as fast as he could. Gotta fly faster than I've ever flown before! he thought to himself. Truth be told, however, he was a good forty miles per hour slower than his Earthbound top speed.
__________
The Tungsten Titan and Atomik Lad strolled through the wide alleys of the largest mall on the face of the Earth: The Metroville Mall. The Mecca of Shopping. A cult, the exact size of which was under debate, was believed to bow west four times a day in honor of its Biblical importance to capitalism. The Metroville Mall seemed to exist in a reality all its own. A very manicured reality that hadn’t yet invented dirt.
“So what do you think we should get him?” Norman asked as they walked among shoppers and shops.
“I don't know. He’s so hard to shop for,” Atomik Lad said.
“Does he need anything?”
Atomik Lad stopped and thought. “Nothing with repeatable uses.”
Norman nodded in agreement. “Oh yeah, the Label Maker Incident.”
“You know I had ‘Danger: Sidekick’ on the back of my outfit for a week before I noticed it?”
“Hmm. Well, who else is gonna be there?”
“You, me, Rachel, Angus, and Dr. Genius if we can get her out of the lab. Oh, and I was thinking about inviting The Minimum Wage Warriors.”
“Nah, they gotta work weekdays.”
“Guess you’re right. Just us then.” They continued their walk down the endless road of entrepreneurialism. “Hey, where do you think we should have the party?”
“I like the beach,” Norman said. “Ooh, especially Larson Beach. Lots of sun and lots of chicks. And according to the weatherman, tomorrow’s waves are going to be sweet!”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Norman nudged Atomik Lad in the side, which had the effect of nearly knocking him over. “Even get to see this Rachel of yours in a swimsuit.”
Atomik Lad's retort was interrupted by another retort from behind, “Hold it right there, Mr. Muscle-Oil and Spandex Kid.”
The heroes spun around and faced a motley group of seven individuals who, judging by their outfits and demeanors, must’ve thought of themselves as villains. The heroic duo reflexively jumped into defensive stances. The rest of The Mall seemed strangely empty of the shoppers it usually contained at this time of day. Atomik Lad could feel it. A showdown was a-brewin’.
“What are you guys supposed to be?” Atomik Lad asked.
A wiry man stood in front of the other six. He had the angry, weaseled face of a man who’d had too much of what life was offering with creases forged by the frustration of not knowing what to do about it. He was clearly the leader, though it seemed to Atomik Lad that h attained that lofty position by being the only member of the team with enough petty ambition to take it. “Allow me to introduce us.” He pointed to a rocky mammoth of a man, “This is Granite,
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