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A Bad Idea 66

As Anne, Emma, Cat, Shade, and Superfreak broke into the Superbuds’s base, they all had wildly different streams of consciousness.

This is the most sober I’ve been in months, Emma thought to herself. Wasn’t even this sober for that drug test, which probably explains why I’m no longer working at Starbucks. If I was a Fleminicki then I’d have alcoholic blood. A blood alcohol percentage of 100%. Those guys were great. Getting into a beer chugging competition with them probably wasn’t smart, but it sure as hell was fun.

Me-ow, Cat thought to herself. Didn’t think I’d ever see Shade, after our last job. But I’m glad to see her. All of her. In the flesh… In the… mmmmmmeeeoowwwwwwwwwwwwww.

If everyone’s where they’re supposed to be, Shade thought to herself, Prometheus is busy with that conference call for his security business, Louis and Matthew are fucking each other, the Merchant Mariner’s out on his boat and Billy Baker the wunderkind is at school. Stanley the church janitor disabled the alarms, so we should be good. Everything’s good. Haha wow Cat looks hungry. We’re obviously having sex after this.

Who am I? Superfreak though to himself. It was the only thing he thought about, these days.

This is a terrible idea, Anne thought to herself. What if one of the Superbuds is invisible, and they just didn’t tell anybody? Or what if one of them’s omniscient? What if this is a trap and some serial killer wants to murder us? No, be cool Anne. Be hip. You’re a supervillain. Not evil, but certainly villainous. You’ve got to be cool. Evil-y. Confident. Be the evil you wish to see in the world. Ohgod is that a serial killer!?! No, it’s your own shoe. Dammit, Anne. Damn it.

Shade opened the door to the basement. She took a step inside.

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One comment on “A Bad Idea 66

  1. “Ohgod is that a serial killer!?!”

    I’m not gonna not love that the corncern here was a serial killer. An entire serial killer. I know that’s the joke, but if you squint and do the mental gymnastics I do, this is a legitimate thing to be worried about in a world of superheroes, and if it was me, I’d imagine a mouse with a stabbin’ knife.

    Like

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