This guy could buy soup at the clothing store

by all means please do!

"She never told me that she..." In my hand, I held a photograph of my wife and her late sister, who had been dead for months. The photo looked recent, with the pair only looking maybe a couple years younger than they were, but what struck me was that they looked the same. They were identical twins, and I had never known before that moment.

"Ezekiel? Honey?" My wife stepped into the kitchen with a stretch and a yawn. "How's breakfast going? Do you need help?"

I stuffed the photo in my pocket and turned to face her. "It's going!" I blurted out. "I'm good. I've almost finished these eggs, so-"

"Honey, they're smoking," she said.

I turned to see the eggs blackening. "Crap!" I shouted.

She laughed. She laughed. My wife always showed concern before laughing. A subtle, but noticeable difference.

I rushed to turn off the stove and get the pan off of it, throwing the destroyed eggs into the trashcan and running cold water over the pan so I could wash it and try again. She moved toward me and kissed me on the cheek. "I can't believe I married such a klutz," she teased. That was in character.

"Neither can I," I responded with a nervous chuckle.

She left the room with a quick wave. "It's our day off, so don't mess up any more eggs. I'm trusting you, Ezekiel. We have lots to do today!"

I acknowledged her with a quick, "Yeah," and returned my attention to my second attempt at breakfast. I cracked eggs, placed them in the frying pan, and stirred them around to scramble them. This held the lion's share of my focus, but the picture in my pocket nagged at my mind. Why hadn't she told me her sister was an identical twin? People tend not to leave those sorts of things out of descriptions.

As the eggs were almost done, I placed a couple pieces of bread in our toaster, then slapped everything onto a pair of plates and walked out to the living room where she was waiting. "Finished."

"You didn't put anything on them, did you?" she asked. "I'm not in the mood for my usual cheese today."

I realized I had forgotten to put the cheese on them today. Under normal circumstances, I would get sent back into the kitchen with a half-joking groan and told to put some fiesta blend on them, but... not today. I shook my head. "I forgot."

"Lucky you."

My wife had been acting slightly off since the untimely passing of her estranged sister. She had rarely spoken of her sister even when prompted, but I had thought it was because the relationship was strained. But something was up, and she wasn't being forthwith about it.

"If you don't mind me asking, what kind of relationship did you and your sister have?" I asked.

She very nearly choked on her toast. "What brought that up?"

"Well, you never really talked about her, so I was just wondering. You never even said you were twins," I said. I produced the photo I had in my pocket. "You dropped this when you were coming home last night, so..."

She took it, for some reason looking annoyed. "I never talked about her, huh?" She spaced out for a moment. "Of course I didn't. Our relationship wasn't all rosepetals and bath bombs."

My wife had always had a habit of coming up with eccentric idioms, and that was definitely something she would say. Perhaps I was worrying over nothing.

"It's best if you don't worry about it, Ezekiel. She's gone now, so it's not even a consideration."

"That's cold of you," I said, concerned. "She was your sister."

She frowned. I could see frustration building on her face, but I hoped I could tread the line and prevent her from breaking entirely, like I usually did. "Estranged sister. We didn't like each other anyway."

"You seem happy enough in the photo."

"That was years ago. Things were different."

"I mean, you must miss her," I said. "What changed?"

"She changed, not me!" she snapped. Immediately, she slapped a hand over her mouth. Slowly, however, after considering her words, she pulled it away and continued. "I... mean... after we got married, she started acting differently. Just... cold to me. And after she seemed so excited about you, too."

I suddenly felt guilty about pushing it. "I'm sorry to bring it up," I said. "I didn't mean to bring up something painful, I just-"

"You were curious. It's okay."

We finished up breakfast and I placed the dishes back in the kitchen. I started to make my way back to the living room, but I stopped as I was about to round the corner. She was listening to a voicemail message on her phone.

"Parker, if you're receiving this message, I am dead, and I need you to do something for me. My husband, Ezekiel, is dangerous. Not in deed or personality, or in any way he can control; he wouldn't hurt a fly, the sweetroll he is," the voicemail said. "But there's something no one except for me knows about him, not even himself: If he experiences any loss, any trauma, he will destroy this Earth. I can't explain to you why, and I can't tell you how, but it will happen. I need you to become me. The arrangements to fake your death have already been made. Step into my place, be Ezekiel's wife. You know I would never lie to you, so I need you to do this one last thing. If you're even a fraction as lucky as I was, you will fall in love with him just like I did. And one last thing- I'm sorry, Parker, for leaving you behind. Ezekiel took my whole attention, for both his sake and the world's. After being married to him for a few weeks, you'll understand. I promise. Goodbye."

I stepped into the room. She hid away her phone. "Elizabeth?" I asked.

"Yes, honey?"

"Who are you?"

The ground started to shake.

"Ah yes sire, a bargain at any price." The grinning man passed the black sword across the counter of his shop to me. His smile betrayed his intent, as the words formed on his lips dripping with venom, the corners of his mouth turning just ever so slightly upward. He knew the sword, knew it's curse, and he had sold the blade countless times.
My hand grasped the hilt and the feeling was instant, perfectly balanced, the cool leather grip succumbed to my finger's lightest touch. A mild vibration ran up the length of my arm as I took the blade fully into my posession, a sinister glint passed over the shopkeeper's eyes as he awaited my reaction.
I provided none. A sword that held the power to slay any enemy, overcome any challenge I may face, only it eats away at the morale? A perfect blade for a deaf man. The shopkeeper's face slumped for a moment and then radiated with a genuine smile as he realized. I left the small shop with a grin, setting out to conquer my destiny.

Wouldn't people be horrified by this superpower instead?...

The city of Anaheim was under attack, and our heroes had yet to arrive. The villains of each district united and knew we had to take action. This was not only our home, but our playground as well – if the heroes fail, there'll be no one else to blame but ourselves.

So I took the first steps towards leading our motley crew of villains, plotting out a plan that could save us if not entirely redeem us. We didn't plan on being heroes, but today marks a turning point in my life – I'm no longer sure what side I'm fighting for.

Just then I saw a glimpse of movement dark against the skyline; at first it seemed like one of the heroes had come to save us, but then I realized that it was something else entirely – The Creature. It gathered up its minions from the depths below and wreaked havoc upon Anaheim with an unearthly rumble; like the breath of death itself sweeping over us all.

The villains fought bravely against The Creature, though we all knew this was not going to be enough given its sheer size and strength. We did whatever we could distract it long enough for us to forge a plan, bur as we did so it advanced relentlessly towards every corner of our beloved city.

Suddenly, without warning or time for reflection, a brilliant light pierced through the darkness like an arrow – it seemed to be coming from inside me – giving me strength far greater than before as well as knowledge of what we were supposed to do now that every hope was lost. Our group split into two sides: one following my lead to fight together with some sort of transcendent energy directed at stopping this unstoppable beast; while the other provided support with weapons and tools designed on another plane outside of space and time itself.

After days of fighting off The Creature and saving civilians, my team and I declared victory for Anaheim. But with every step forward there seemed to be two back — our victory didn't cure the underlying deeds we had committed here in the past. The feeling of compassion that had emerged during our fight against evil left me feeling empty inside.

That's when it clicked: I could never return to my life as a villain after this night - because morally speaking, none of us had any choice but to become who we are now... Heroes — a title I would never accept, no matter how much good we did in our city.

Being the goddess of wisdom can be hard,even more when you are sorounded by idiots but the advantage is that no one will realize who i really am,the only reason I decided to be a teacher here is because i was curious about the mortals these days,they are a little too obsessed by technology and they are way too many now but they are better from a moral point of view than their ancestors from centuries ago,i kinda miss those times but even when you are a goddess time doesn't stop for you, nothing remains the same, everything changes constantly,that's why I decided to be a history teacher,to teach the mortals about their origins,their beginnings but sometimes

I enter the classroom and looks at my students

Athena:Ok class,last week i asked you to read the Greek Mythology,now i want all you to tell me your personal opinion about them

"Gods are assholes"a voice says from the back

Athena:Well can you explain your point of view Mr.Darius?

Darius:Yeah I can,Zeus the leader of the Pantheon is nothing more than a cheater,rapist,a vindictive asshole and a tyrant,he tried to kill the human when they didn't worship him,he punishment Prometheus for giving humans the fire,his Wife and sister Hera,she is a jealous psychopath that is punishing innocent woman that Zeus tricked,Force or manipulate to sleep with him,i mean how could they said no?he is a god,is they said no it wouldn't matter,he would do what he wanted anyway but Hera is taking her anger on those poor girls i mean i know that is hard being cheated on but the girls are not the problem,Zeus is,and let's not forget that she trew her son of the mountain because he was ugly and she always is trying to hurt or kill the demigods of Zeus,Poseidon raped Medusa and now let's go the the Goddess of Wisdom herself

Athena:Let's hear

Darius:She a uncaring and selfish goddess,she is petty and a narcissist,her preistess was raped by Poseidon and the only thing she cared was that her precious little temple was stained,and she decided to punish the victim turning her in a monster and later sending someone to kill her and putting her head on her shield,that is messed up in many ways,she can get away with mostly anything because is Zeus favorite ,when Arahne defeated her in that competition Athena decided to turn her into a spider,i mean if i beat her at monopoly what is she gonna do?turn me into a frog?

Athena:What makes you think that you would win against her at monopoly,maybe she is pretty good at that game

Darius:That's not the point,all of them did something that crossed the line,i just gave these 3 gods as an exemple

The goddess listens everyone opinion and at the ends of the class after everyone left she goes to Darius her student

Athena:Mr.Darius i appreciate if you would stay behind some time

Darius:Why?

At that moment the Goddess revealed her true form

Athena: Let's just say i didn't appreciated the comments at my address,so let's make a deal,since you thought that you can beat me at monopoly let's play a little,if you win i give you anything you want but if i win let's just say that if you thought I was cruel and harsh with Medusa you don't even can comprehend what awaits you and you have no right to refuse, let's play my mortal student

Harry, Harry, Harry... You cannot seriously tell me you thought this was a good idea?

Harry's inner voice had a deep rasp to it, like burning coal dragged over a race car. He wasn't schizophreniac or mentally sick, but he had seen the movies.

And the movies stated serial killers had to have an inner voice pushing them around. This he created his own. But as he wasn't technically sick, their relationship was less about slavery and more of a democratically elected list of victims to work his way down.

"It will work," Harry said outloud.

He had forcibly retired the husband through liberal application of excessive force. When the police came breathing down his neck, he replaced him, the wife was so addled by her many pills she didn't see a thing. An isolated, friendless couple, and the police didn't ask for anything, as technically, there had been no body found. Just a weird loner who had scared the neighborhood.

Now what?

"We play along, until the whole matter is forgotten," said Harry, cooking an omelette in an unknown kitchen for his temporary wife. The last few bits of the late husband had been cooked in the dishes and fed to the family dog who really didn't mind the change in management.

"You never cooked for me like that," said Liz, with the tone of a drug addict.

Harry nodded along. That night, he helped Liz to bed when her legs started to shake, and held her tight until she fell asleep.

No killing.

"No," targets had to be picked carefully. Assholes, leeches, horrible people and boy scouts. Fuck the boy scouts. Liz was already damaged, poor thing.

"Hon?" She asked in the morning.

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you."

He had cleaned the house. What a mess, a pig stall without the glorious pigs to give it some style.

She's falling for you again. It's going to rekindle your love, and it will be the best sex ever, If there wasn't a caveat.

"Not again, it's the first time she's loving me."

We're headed for a catastrophe, you should leave.

"No, I like the place. And her late husband started to work on the yard, it has potential."

He worked in the yard, and got to know his dickish neighbor.

Days later, Liz came back from her doctor's appointment, as usual. Less usual was the decision the doctor had taken to get her off several pills, as her state had improved.

I told you

"I know, I know," replied harry, getting changed in a hurry to disappear, before Liz's less addled mind recognized the fool play.

"Hon?" She said, appearing suddenly before him, sizing him up and down. Harry braced for impact.

"I made dinner," she said with a wink, and left for the kitchen.

What?

"What?"

Dinner was excellent.

Somehow, harry felt that Liz, deep down, knew the truth. Something about her, she was smart, there were subtle hints that she had seen through him and didn't mind.

Subtle hints like her helping you change the photo on her husband's ID? Or her various ways to convince her family that you were always here and haven't visited enough? Or her hiding you from her best friend because she knew she wouldn't buy it? Subtle?

"Let me believe I'm smart for just a second, will you?"

Days went by. He cooked, helped her in various ways, showed attention in all the little things. She replied in kind. They didn't sleep together, this was taboo.

"Not him, I like him?" She said one day, out of nowhere while cooking an arm.

"Is this the neighbors arm?" He asked, "and who did you talk to?"

She paused, hasn't expected him.

"Yes," she said tentatively.

He fished a crumply list out of his pocket and looked it over. The neighbor was there. He showed it to Liz.

They both smiled.

I told you, said the voice later, it would be the best sex ever.

I didn't know "Thanks!" was scary.

Yes, you would need fingerprints records, which could have been done when making a passport, or when enrolling in public positions... Or you would need to get them from an object that was touched only by Lauren before the death of Hannah and never since (being sure about that seems tough though).

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed reading it. She's a vengeful master!

With a soft wheeze the mirror fogged over, clouding both myself and Mr Bear in white plumes as the flashes of magnesium camera lights forced us to wince. A dull quiet filled the office, the five dossiers that lay open on my desk carried little weight in comparison to an interspecies manslaughter case. Pulling the narrowest folder towards me I eyed over its summary.

Workplace endangerment, appropriate accommodations not made for visual impairment in the case of three temporary rodent employees. The squared san-serif typeface did little to invigorate the case, I folded it over and clipped the pages together, filing it for a junior intern’s attention.

Breach of contract, Fairy Godmother’s terms of enchantment intentionally false. Taking a long drag of the wooden pipe, I sucked in my cheeks and puffed out small rings of smoke. They wafted towards the ceiling before dissipating out across the flat white plaster; staining its surface with patches of aged mustard tar. Princess Cinderella was not unknown in the region, she had been slandering her Fairy Godmother to any sleaze with ink and paper. Rumour was she paid well.

Rolling up the thick white parchment I tied a thin red ribbon around its width and held it up with my right hand. Swooping down from its perch, a pigeon clasped the drawstring with its talon and beat its wings to regain height. At the peak of its arc the bird turned and dove towards the carpet, gaining speed it was unfased by the possibility of connecting with the rigid floor. With a vwoomp the bird disappeared, replaced by a throw of feathers and sparks. The tips of the carpet let off the nose curling smell of burnt wool as it coughed up black strings, singed from the close proximity to the courier’s dispelling.

By the time I had risen to stamp out the embers the light had begun to dim in the room. A shimmer appeared behind me that forced the hairs on my neck to stand up, pale blue fireworks spat and burst at its frame as the wavy form showed its true nature. Though it was made of wood the door had a ghostly presence, it was mostly transparent and had none of the rich earthy browns or yellows that oak usually held. Three equally spaced bursts rumbled on the door, each punctuated by a rose firework that bloomed in the spot of impact.

“Enter.” I called out. The doors parted down the centre seamlessly, swinging open into the space.

First to traverse the threshold was the pigeon, fluttering around my shoulders before returning to its perch. Next the clacking footsteps of glass slippers on stone floor quickly transitioned to a dull thud on carpeted wood. As she passed through the door her form sprang to life, pale red tinging flushed her cheeks and the grey of her hair erupted into a blonde river of curls.

“Mrs Charming,” I lowered myself to one knee, holding out my palm for her to grace. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Quite.” She responded curtly, brushing my palm with a bony index finger before rounding on the red velvet cushioned chair opposite the desk. Here for business, it would seem. Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear the mirror let out a small chuckle.

I returned to my station, stashing the remaining three un-filed dossiers in a draw and locking it shut with a thin brass key. Spreading out the first five pages of Cinderella’s case I began my interrogation.

“You are accusing your Fairy Godmother of breach of contract, is that correct?”

“Correct.” She responded. “I was assured that the curse would be broken at midnight. My gown returned to rags, the carriage went from plush and luxurious to a puckered gourd that stunk of mildew, but a single glass slipper remained enchanted.”

Tapping the ash out of the pipe, I refilled its reservoir and offered a drag to the Princess, she turned it away with a well practiced gesture.

“Since the slipper remained enchanted, you’re alleging that her end of the bargain wasn’t upheld?”

“Correct.”

“What is your proposed resolution?” Clicking the cap off my fountain pen, I ran my thumb up its golden curve.

“Emotional damages, in the order of eighty percent of the revenue earned from her claims to be a royal matchmaker.” She practically spat the title. I scribbled down the response on the inside of her file, nodding as she spoke. “I think it is only fair, don’t you?”

My pen paused mid stroke as I wrestled with the phrasing of my next question. “Are you unhappy with the Prince?”

“How dare you.” She hissed, “The Prince is an upstanding gentleman, he is honest, moral, and ultimately.. quite Charming.”

“I’m unsure of your chances to sue for emotional damages if you seem to be in your desired place as a result of her actions.” I advised. “Do you not think that instead she went above and beyond her station?” The proposal was risky, but since I had the mirror as a silent witness I would be able to claim expert corroboration if her outburst betrayed any ill-intent.

Her hand, heavy with a thick golden ring that when melted down could spawn at least ten usual sized bands, reached into her purse and drew out a folded slip of paper. Sliding it onto the velvet tray at the lip of my desk, she asked “Are you going to take the case or not?”

Opening the note, my heart skipped a beat. I could get a new filing desk, bookshelves, paint the entire room… Hell, I could up and abandon this office and move into a high-rise. “I’ll devote my efforts to give you an answer by tomorrow’s early light.” I answered.

Satisfied, her sparkling gown twirled as she rose to face the centre of the room. Swooping down, the pigeon burst past her neck throwing her hair out like tasseled curtaintails. As it flashed out of sight, the pale door re-emerged in the space left behind. Passing through back into her realm, I let out a sigh as I span my chair towards the fogged mirror.

“Hear all that?” I called out.

“Loud and clear.” A shaky voice replied. As the mist slowly cleared, the weathered pale skin of the Fairy Godmother came into view. She clicked her tongue and knitted her brow in concern. “Is it really breach of contract? I was only trying to help…”

“Gods no.” I laughed, “She’s just looking for an easy payday. Those weren’t her words coming from her lips. This time, we’ll take the prince for everything he’s got.”

Has he ever been a real human though? The story doesn’t give us any background.

[removed]

Thanks so much, Duke! I definitely may explore this one more. Would have to think about how :)

Thank you! :D

Thanks! Happy cake day, by tge way.

Amusing. A good benchmark for stories to come.

Long ago, (before my time) there used to be a show called Can You Top This?

That's what you've begun!

Pretty much exactly what I was envisioning xD.

science in story about superheroes/10

Souperman

There was an older movie with this premise and it was fairly good.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0057997/

>Now you will be my prison, and I will be your genie

Makes it sound like the guy would be a living vessel for the genie and that he has unlimited wishes.

"You mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!"

"For once in my life, can you SHUT UP?!"

>Hi there. The name's Johnathan Grikks. And my sword hates me.

"YOU SWING LIKE A INFANT!"

"No I don't, asshole!"

The man slashes at the throat of his oponent, causing them to choke on their own blood.

"And your aim sucks more then you mother does on a daily basis!"

"I WILL THROW YOU IN THE OCEAN IF YOU WON'T STOP."

>Incase you couldn't tell, my sword LOVES to insult me. As it turns out, it's a pretty well known sword for that specific reason.

The man screams in frustration, repeatedly slamming the sword into a rock that just splits on every impact.

"You call yourself a warrior?! Your grip feels like that of a little girl!"

"JUST SHUT UP FOR FIVE SECONDS!!"

>I'd say the hatred is pretty mutual. However...

The man stands atop the head of a dragon's corpse, bloodied and cut.

"What was that, a mosquito?! Why'd you take so long?!"

"...I'm just gonna take that one as a compliment... partner."

>It's still a pretty dependable blade.

"You smell of cheese and urine!"

>Still hate it though.

Imagine if our hero could also undo it.

There you find a warm bowl of soup... And the next, a very angry and hungry bear, or a grenade with it's pin missing.

Or use it to "dodge" a giant green lasers. Sure, millions will still scream, for that brief moment of laser blazing past a bowl of soup (and any poor unfortunate soul also in that path) before getting smacked with planet.

Imagine the technicians and everyone else on the "moon" that just saw the planet disappear and then reappear. How flabbergasted they would be? Even the princess would be beyond confused, even if she would be relieved.