Half-Man, Half-Woman Boy

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic


Everyone knows one!


Editing not rechecked due to laziness!

Jan Jameson was getting ready for bed because the graveyard shift at the plant waited; when the police scanner crackled to life. There was a robbery-in-progress at the town bank. Jan jumped into action; donning the crime fighter’s outfit in seconds flat, then ran out to the garage where the four-cylinder anti-crime mobile waited under a tarp that was quickly peeled back, and then gripped the wheel and crept out towards the freeway. Jan knew it would take time to get used to the slow speed of this new car, having traded in the rocket-fast behemoth for this one because the price of gas had gone out-of-sight, and other vehicles were flying by the car. Jan was greatly embarrassed by this fact, and got some incredulous stares from families on their way to grandma’s house, or wherever. But, being a crime fighter didn’t pay near what Jan had thought it would; hence the cutting of costs whenever possible. Soon, the bank rolled into view and Jan figured it was time to get the plan of action ready. The direct approach seemed the best course of action, so, really there wasn’t much to plan. Jan strode up to the front door and pulled it open, ignoring police calls to stay back. They had surrounded the place, and seemed surprised to see a person walk under their rope barricade and right up to the bank. Jan was met at the open front door by several armed men with nylons over their faces, one of whom asked incredulously,

 

“Hey, what the hell are you doing, and more importantly, what the hell are you, a man or a woman? Even though you don’t wear a mask, it’s hard to tell; and why aren’t you at home in bed? Don’t you have school tomorrow? Eh, ha, ha!”

 

Jan got that all the time; still looking like 16 or 17, when in reality, it was 34, and testily replied, “All you need to know, is I’m your worst nightmare! Now, why don’t you boys do something smart for a change and give yourselves up?”

 

Immediately, raucous laughter broke out. One of them replied, “Listen to pip-squeak here. Do you hear that, boys? We’d better give ourselves up before we regret it. Eh, ha, ha; let us give you an option. Why don’t you give up, seeing as how you’re unarmed, and we all have automatic weapons.”

 

Jan was going to answer sarcastically, but the last thing to be seen was someone’s massive fist coming, then everything went black.

 

 

Jan groggily came to, and tried standing. Whoa; it was a struggle just to stay upright. The bank was empty, except for a group of teenagers, who had been standing looking at the unconscious form of a super-hero; one of them saying, between bits of group laughter,

 

“Man, look at that face. Eh, ha, ha; what do you do super-hero, look for people breaking the law and throw your face at their fist? Eh, ha, ha; maybe you should look for a new line of work, because this one isn’t working out too well. Eh, ha, ha!”

 

Jan was hurting too much too put up with their ration of crap, and replied, “Very funny; I don’t suppose any of you bloat-bags happened to notice which way they went?”

 

The same teen who had talked before replied, “I’d give it up. They took off about 20 minutes ago, after you took a dive, and they finished ripping off the money. You started coming around, so they smacked your face again.”

 

Oh, no wonder there was so much pain; Jan told the arriving police the story, and started walking home. Along the way, several children playing outside, who ran up and pointed and laughed; it felt like crap.

 

 

There was a crime being committed, Jan Jameson heard on the police scanner, which meant assistance was required. Jan rushed into the bedroom, and retrieved the super-hero outfit from the floor, where it had been thrown in a moment of weakness when Jan had decided to pack it in. Being a super-hero was tough work. The haggard face which was reflected back in the mirror had scars, dried blood, and weariness etched upon it. It still looked like it was a teenager’s, but in reality was a 34 year old one. Despite the unlined face staring back, sometimes the feeling that nothing was worth this heavy of a penalty was almost overwhelming. But, then this latest call had come over the police scanner; a man had been robbed; and all the self-doubt was quickly forgotten.

 

 

On went the outfit, and Jan ran to the door and climbed into the four-cylinder vehicle. Then he tried to spray dirt and gravel, which had been placed there just so it would look cool, over the house, but nothing happened. This damn piss-mobile. Oh well, with today’s outrageously-high gas prices, that couldn’t be helped. Jan floored the gas and made the 2-mile trip to the address given by the police dispatcher was over in just under 10 minutes. What a hunk of junk; oh well.

 

 

Jan leaped from the car, and seeing a crowd had gathered around a police officer, pushed through the crowd to him.

 

“Oh c**p,” exclaimed the cop, when he had seen Jan. “It’s Half-Man, Half-Woman Boy; what the hell are you doing here?” he continued.

 

“Why, I’m offering my talents to help solve this crime.”

 

The cop rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Talent, what talent? Oh, you mean your talent for getting in the way, and generally being a damned pest. Gee, we’d really appreciate your help, not! There’s nothing to do here. The criminal was just some dude, and he’s long gone.”

 

The gathered crowd all laughed, and looked Jan up and down, laughed some more, and shook their heads sadly.

 

Jan ignored their dirty looks and asked the crowd, “Did anyone see anything that might be useful? Anything at all?”

 

The cop interrupted, “Uhmm, excuse me, I was just about to ask them that, but you couldn’t wait. So, how about it? Did anyone see anything that might be helpful?”

 

A young lady stepped forward and said, “I don’t know if it will help, but I found I saw a man assault the victim, and, when he was running away, he dropped this,” and she held out a wallet.

 

“Yes ma’am, that will most certainly help,” replied the cop.

 

Jan then said, “Let me have a look at that, please.”

 

The cop came back with, “Now, why would I let you see it? We don’t need a guy, or girl, or whatever, traipsing around wherever we’re going, and getting in our damn way. Now, once and for all, blow off, jerk-weed.”

 

“Okay, Officer, I can see when I’m not wanted.”

 

The cop then said, “If you can see that good, how come you couldn’t have seen that a long time ago?”

 

Jan let the insult go and walked to the car, having no intention of going home. Following the police, seemed like the prudent thing to do.

 

 

Jan had returned to the vehicle and attempted to follow the police, but with the gutless wonder, had soon lost them. Slamming the dashboard with a closed fist, Jan thought, this pile of absolute crap. Looks like I needed that other car, with its bigger engine.. I could ride my bike, and go faster. Damn, now what? Then, Jan thought of an easy way to find the police; the police scanner was on the seat. It would tell the exact address. Jan punched the dashboard again. The answer was so simple.

 

 

After hearing the address the police had gone to, Jan puttered up after a few minutes. While crossing the yard, Jan heard,

 

“Oh, you son of a bitch, would you just get the hell out of here? This is for us, the police to handle, and not some delusional citizen who thinks they’re a private dick, emphasis on dick,” from the same cop who’d cased trouble before.

 

Jan replied, “Don’t worry; I just want to observe how you professionals handle things.”

 

“Okay, but stay the hell out of our way,” answered the cop.

 

Jan nodded affirmative, and pretended to lean against the car. But when the police exited the house with a person, Jan sprang into action. Across the street running bolted Jan, and before the startled officers could react, launched a foot at the man’s throat. The man saw the attack coming, stepped to one side, and Jan flew through the air, landing in a heap on the grass.

 

The startled officers reacted with shocked anger, with the same angry cop as before yelling, “What the hell? You, again; I thought you just wanted to observe?”

 

“Observe? While you guys don’t touch this clown? Someone has to beat the truth out of him,” shot back Jan, who proceeded to take a swing at the guy.

 

The guy easily stepped away from the swing, and lashed out with both fists, staggering Jan with a jolt to the face.

 

 

Jan, after coming to, was chagrined to learn that, not only was the guy the suspect’s father, but Jan was being charged with assault.

 

 

Prison sucks. That was the opinion of Jan Jameson, better known as Half-Man, Half-Woman Boy. Because of the arrest, nothing but a running ration of crap from the other inmates was to be had, and it was rougher because of looking so young-- 34, but still looking like a teenager, Jan was alone in a cell because the authorities couldn’t decide if the men’s prison block, the woman’s prison block, or the juvenile detention facility was appropriate, so a room in the basement of the prison was made ready. All Jan had for a view was an old couch and a dirt floor and would be so glad to get out of here.

 

 

Release. It was so great breathing the fresh air as a free person. Jan sat with a steaming mug of coffee and listened with rapt attention to the police scanner sitting on the coffee table. Hearing a call come in alerting police to a liquor store robbery in progress, Jan quickly put down the coffee and changed into the Half-Man, Half-Woman Boy outfit hanging ready on the door. That liquor store was right around the corner. A mask usually wasn’t part of the outfit, but Jan donned one anyway, just because it made for a more-frightening look to the criminals. It was the newest addition to the outfit. After putting on the rest of the outfit, Jan sprinted out to the Half-Mobile, as Jan now called it, and hopped behind the wheel, puttered out to the freeway, and drove, sliding to a stop in front of the store, and ran in. The police hadn’t even arrived yet, so Jan yelled,

 

“I represent the authorities, and I command you to—”

 

Before even finishing the sentence, Jan felt a blow to the stomach, followed by a fist coming towards the fac—

 

 

What had happened? Where was this place? Jan (at least there was a vague memory of being called Jan) tried mightily to get the eyes to focus. A vision of gray bars came slowly into view. What? A police man, who looked somewhat familiar to Jan, said,

 

“Well, good morning, Sunshine. So good of you to join us at last.”

 

Jan’s mouth felt like crap. “What happened?”

 

The cop replied, “Oh, you know, the usual; you were being a pain, decided to play super-cop, responded to the liquor store robbery before we could get there, and were cold-cocked by the thief, who, thanks to you, got clean away. You’re back in your special jail cell because you violated your parole.” Damn!

 

The End


Submitted: December 20, 2017

© Copyright 2021 Mike S.. All rights reserved.

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hullabaloo22

Could see it all happening! Nice one, Mike!

Wed, December 20th, 2017 6:13pm

Author
Reply

Thanks, Hully!

Wed, December 20th, 2017 10:18am

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