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The Adventures of Duper Man

© John McManamy

"Who would have ever guessed that a man who could leap tall buildings would be felled by a common mental condition?"

The following article is a light-hearted change from my usual pieces:

The door burst open. Into the living room materialized Duper Man's neighbor down the hall, right-wing radio host Attila Friendly.

"You're a wimp, Duper Man!" he jeered, wagging a sausage-link pinky in the direction of the fallen Superhero. "A wuss, a sissy, a chicken, and" - he paused in anticipation of the unkindest cut of all - "a lib-ber-al."

Duper Man could have sent Attila Friendly into a collision course with one of the moons of Saturn without getting off the couch, and be hailed as the liberator of planet earth by a grateful nation in the process, but the Man of Tungsten couldn't be bothered.

"Leave me alone," he begged Attila Friendly. "Go pick on the President or someone."

Attila Friendly, as everyone knew, was a one-man political wrecking crew, who had effectively scuttled the Administration's plans for health care reform, patient's rights, and affordable drugs for everyone. Once he got before a microphone, he could literally bend the nation's will to his own.

"You're no fun, anymore," sneered the scourge of the airwaves, making his way out the door. "Now I'll have to find something more interesting to do, like taking school lunches away from poor children."

Duper Man tried to rise from his couch, but sunk back into the pillows, a defeated man.

"Clinical depression - Ha!," called out Attila Friendly just before slamming shut the door. "Who needs Craptonite?"

Of all the people in the world to catch me at home in my Duper Man getup, the Man of Tungsten thought. Oh well, he decided, it could have been worse. It could have been Polly Pane.

The day before, Attila had mocked him mercilessly about how silly he looked lying on the couch in his cape.

Who would have ever guessed that a man who could leap tall buildings would be felled by a common mental condition? he could only think. Nothing had worked - none of the antidepressants, either individually or in combination. His only hope, he knew, was to get to his secret laboratory on the North Pole and somehow come up with a pill that could handle his duper-dimensioned neurotransmitters.

...

It had taken him two attempts to get airborne, and a head wind over Canada nearly sent him into Hudson Bay, and even when he finally got to his secret lab, his brain kept telling him to take a rest and delay his work until the next day. But he had preserved against incredible odds, and now the duper-strength antidepressant he had created was in his brain and working wonders. He was back to his old self. It was time to confront Attila Friendly and spare the world from further harm.

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