Super Powereds: Year 2

by Drew Hayes

“Is this a good slow clap moment? Because it kind of feels like a good slow clap moment.”

Did I set you up to fail? Well, it depends on what you mean by that phrase.” “We’re listening,” Mary said. “If you mean I did it knowing you would fail, then yes. If you mean it as I gave you a task that couldn’t be accomplished, then no. What I gave you was doable. I just knew you all wouldn’t be successful at accomplishing it.”

Dean Blaine smiled at him with what was probably an altruistically knowing and not-at-all-smug smile. Probably.

Curiously, in all of his machinations, analyses, and speculations, he never once paused to wonder why he’d selected that particular piece of truth as a wrench to throw in Alice’s gears, which merely went to show that even the swiftest minds can fall into the gopher hole that is self-delusion.

“Lovebirds, huh? I think she’s trying to rattle us,” Nick said. “She’ll need to do better than that,” Alice replied honestly.

“Needless to say, the tea was thrown out and we haven’t really let Vince mess around with advanced appliances since,” Nick concluded. “Too bad. Most girls dig a man who can cook,” Violet pointed out. “Lord knows I do,” Stella agreed. “I hate that domestic shit, I want to come home and have my meal hot and waiting for me. Maybe with a nice martini on the side.” “So you want to be a man in the fifties, in a sitcom?” Nick asked. “Pretty much.” Nick turned the idea over in his head a few times. “You know what? I can actually see the appeal there.”

“Distraction. Things to keep us occupied. I figured you might want to talk about stuff, or you might want very emphatically to not talk about stuff. The first one is easy; the second one usually requires supplies, so I came prepared for either.”

There is a common discussion topic posed by philosophers who fancy themselves scientifically capable, and by scientists who have gotten thoroughly drunk: what would happen if an unstoppable force were to meet an immovable object? The folly in this discussion lies in the inescapable fact that neither of these things can exist. Both imply a limitless amount of mass or energy, and even in a world where certain humans can occasionally bend the laws of physics, all things have their limits. That said, there are objects that, while not immovable, possess sufficient staying power as to make the act of attempting to move them a highly likely exercise in absolute futility.

“You have a plan for if he loses?” “I have a plan for everything. I have a plan for Zeus blasting down through the ceiling and declaring himself the king of Naples. Just because I have one, doesn’t make it particularly good.” “I see.” They walked in silence for a bit longer, Mary redirecting them a few times as their target changed course. Eventually, Mary’s curiosity was too much, and reading Nick’s mind was no help, as he was purposely obfuscating by doing complex math in his head. “Are you going to tell me what the plan is?” “Make an offering to Nyarlathotep, one of the ancient dark gods of the abyss, to come and challenge Zeus for the throne. I figure if one god is real, why not others? While they duke it out, I hightail myself to safety. Then avoid Naples for the rest of my life.” “I meant what’s the plan for if Vince loses?”

“Vince, do you know what the difference between monsters and angels is? It’s whether they’re on your side or not.”