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Jennifer was a new law professor, but retained a prosecutor mindset. Not unlike expecting a fresh impression from seeing a revival of a play, then discovering your tickets are obstructed view.
Jennifer was stomping back to her law school, while recalling the email about the superbeing who had come to her workplace.
How am I going to greet this guy who showed up called "Quickie?"
What about starting with "Let's get this over lickety-split?" Yes, that hits the spot.
Regardless, my height and muscle mass will intimidate him.
By keeping my mind occupied maybe it's not a surprise that I've already made it back to the school. Through the front window I can see a guy who is giving off a blurred image of himself. Superdude, prepare for my lightning sharp wit. Time to open the door with a smattering of flourish. Sooner rather than later I'm going to have to get the scoop. I've got a class to teach in two hours.
"Professor, you've got to help. He's coming after me," Quickie said, as soon as he saw Jennifer.
"Thanks for addressing me as professor. However, you can call me 'Mother Hulker,' like how..."
"Sure, “Mother Milar-er”… Wait, ma'am, he's caught up to me. By the window - look out!"
Jennifer immediately saw the potential danger to the receptionist there, so she jumped over the receptionist's desk, and grabbed the receptionist in the same leap. She held him down long enough to say: "Don't get up, Aaron. We will handle this. Stay under this desk, and out of sight."
When Jennifer peeked up her head a minute later, she saw a man with a head piece in the shape of a boar. He was holding a two-foot-long gun with a bayonet attached.
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Seriously, this is my first combat with a supervillain. So, you have him show up with a gun? How early 1990s.
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Quickie had lost his super speed, evidenced by how he was slowly scooching on his buttocks into a corner. "Professor," he said, "help me."
"There is not a professor here, there is not a student here, there is not anyone here, that can save you," said the armed man with the pig mask.
Jennifer realized the masked man had not seen her - a six and a half foot tall, green woman - because she had jumped over and gone behind the desk immediately. Without apparent concern on his part, the armed man was getting ready for a lethal strike to Quickie.
The masked man said, "To summarize, this is the end. No more running, formerly fast one..."
He held the bayonet high over Quickie's chest. "It's high time to make you into a rotisserie!"
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Oh. My. Creator. You just had him utter the lamest farewell-insult. Do I have to partake because you think I'm a goon that has to be put in the Universe's Penalty Box? Come on, I'm occasionally angry, but deep-down you know I'm a green apple sweetie-pie. :P
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ns 15.158.61.6da2
