Fatman

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic


The beginning of infamous super villain, Mark Rogers, and how he gained such horrible powers. ( Cover photo is not mine, it is Jeff Albertson otherwise known as Comic book guy from the Simpsons. I
do not claim it as my own)

Submitted: January 23, 2018

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Submitted: January 23, 2018

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Fat Man

It was a mid-July day in the city of London Ontario. Mark Rogers, the owner of Super Comics, was doing what he always did, sitting and eating, waiting desperately for someone to walk into the store. “Why does nobody like comic books anymore, except me,” he mumbled to himself. So he sat eating Cheetos wasting the day away looking at all the scantily clad women in his comic books. “Oh Wonder Woman, if you were real you would love me, right? I would treat you ever so nicely.” Outside the children were gathering pointing fingers and laughing at his sad nature. “You devils, stop it, leave me alone,” he barked. Slowly he got out of his red cushioned chair from behind the counter and made his way to the front door, but by that time the children had already walked away. “How did it come to this, being laughed at by children? How did I get this overweight? Is it my occasional overeating, or perhaps my slight lack of exercise?” Mark said softly. “Oh what I would give to be a superhero in one of these comic books, away from the harsh realities of life. This calls for emergency protocol,” he said. Mark went to his safe and pulled out his most prized possession, Spiderman #1 “This always cheers me up,” he began to read, but not long after, he realized what he had done “Nooo! I got Cheeto fingers all over my book,” Mark sobbed. As he laid his head down on the counter crying, the front door opened and the bell rang telling Mark that someone walked in the store. “Store’s closed,” Mark said as he continued to cry.

“Oh, but I’m not here to buy anything, I’m here to talk to you,” a mysterious man wearing a grey trench coat and hat explained.

“What do you want,” Mark whispered while raising his head from the counter.

“I am a member of a secret organization known as tech nine, we have been watching you for a while now and, we are sure you are the man fit for the job. We have a new technology that we would like to experiment on with you, in the hopes of making your life less meaningless and sad,” the man said proudly. “And if you die as a result of the experiment at least you won't be missed by anyone,” he said much more quietly.

“What was that last part,” Mark curiously said.

“Oh nothing, just eat this,” the man pulled out a pink frosted donut out of his coat.

Mark licked his lips as the delicious donut met his eyes. “Why is it glowing though, and how will this help me?” Mark said with slight annoyance, while his eyes remained locked on the donut.

The man’s tone came down “It’s our special ingredient, this donut will unlock your ability to take revenge on all the bad people that have done wrong in life.”

Mark quickly grabbed the donut unable to resist and gobbled it down, there was no visible change in him.

“Very good,” the man said eagerly. “The plutonium, which is what made it glow, will now be running through your body and if our calculations are correct, the sugar and fattiness from the donut will seep through and combine with the plutonium rushing to your head. The plutonium will then change your brain's wiring so you will be able to telepathically transmit calories and fat to others if you focus enough and point at the person you target.”

“What,” Mark yelled.

“I’ll spare you the scientific mumbo jumbo, come on, the plutonium should have done its job by now, focus on me to make me gain ten pounds,” the man said.

Mark focused “ten pounds, ten pounds,” he said out loud. After a few moments he pointed at the man and a small green beam of light shot from his fingers making a noticeably larger stomach than the man had before.

“It worked,” Mark cried.

“Yes it did, now come with me, we have more tests to run, and soon you will be one of the biggest crime stoppers the world has ever seen,” the man said.

Mark made a devious face, “No, I have some stuff to take care of first,” he walked out the door and into the street.

To Be Continued...

 


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