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If you haven't by now heard, there is a new superhero in town named Exquisite.  She has the prerequisites of every super hero goddess out there.  She's strong.  She's fast.  She's got a great moral code.  She's gorgeous.  She's tough as nails.  She's everything every little girl should aspire to be.  But most importantly, she's my wife.  We met when she was just starting out.  Petty crimes here and there, armed robbery, burglary, assault; the basic wave of vigilante heroism it takes to get noticed.  But it wasn't until I got kidnapped by Colonel Petro Popoyowich, a Russian Ultranationalist who wanted to use my award winning knowledge in bio-chemistry to create a new ultimate weapon for his own personal uses.  They told me they'd kill my parents, the only family I had.  So I worked for him, stalling as long as I could.  To be perfectly honest I coul

He bit me. That sick degenerate bit me! I had to kill him. Not because he bit me, no, that's not a good enough reason, but he attacked my daughter. Playing in the front yard, Lillian always enjoyed setting up tea parties with her dollies on the lawn. A sweet girl if such things can be measured. It breaks my heart to see her cry. But when she screamed, all I could hear was the terror in her voice. The terror in my heart as I charged out of the house, fists clenched, fearing the worst has happened to my daughter.
Out on the lawn she was cornered. A plastic house is her only guard against the invader. I flashed red and pounded my way across the yard and plowed the man over. He tripped over the small slide. I reached into the plastic house, my daughters eyes clenched tight. When I finally grabbed her, she thrashed hard to get away from me. It took her a moment to realize it was her father here to protect her. She had never been so scared in her life. She quickly crawled to me, I scooped he

I saw you watchin' me as you strolled 'cross the fine marble that I been washing on hand and knee.  A poor little girl wearing dirty white work clothes that haven't smelt clean in ages.  A girl who hasn't smelt good in ages.  And you look down on me with that finely waxed mustache and perfectly stitched bowler hat as if I am in your way.  Wasn't needed, that kick in my side you decided to plant on my ribs.  I sure you claim it to be no harder than the way you'd shoo a cat or a dog.  But I am no dog sir.  I am no dog.  And so you push me out of the way and I see you smirk over your shoulder.  You think you some big man mister mustache but I know when you smirk at me, you see me smirkin' back.  "What she got to grin about?"  You wonder.  And I bet you wonder 'bout my smile longer than I think about your toes in my ribs.  I bet it ruins your day knowing you did

It's three in the morning. The phone rings. Not completely awake you answer the phone. Something whispers through the receiver fast and you're not sure what you heard. So you ask them to repeat themselves but the line goes dead and the constant drone of the dial tone gives you cause to hang up. And you sit there, worried, puzzling, wondering what they said. Did you hear correctly? Are you dreaming? A whisper like a breach of water spreading across the floor with slow intent and purpose seeps into your every thought not allowing you to even think about resting your head back down on your pillow. Are you sure...whoever on the other line said what they said. Silent, hidden from view. You wonder. What did they mean. Did they even say what it is you thought they said? You have to know. You can't sleep unless you probe. You pick up the phone, hit redial and wait. A ring. Loud and strong it rings again. Your curiosity builds with tension as each passing second, each passing ring only cements