MICHAEL DAVIS: Mr. Fantastic
One Halloween my mother brought me a Batman costume and I also wore it the day after Halloween when I went outside to play.
I was laughed out of the park when I got there.
Those little bastard kids made me run home so fast my sister (my mortal enemy) felt sorry for me… until her friends came over and she joined them in making me feel like bat shit.
The next day was Monday and I begged my mother to let me stay home from school. I knew I would be ridiculed something terrible. She told me I had nothing to worry about because no one knew it was me.
“Everybody saw me!” I cried.
“You were wearing a mask.” She said.
I don’t think that I’ve ever gone from “my life is over” to “oh happy day” so damn fast.
Last night at an Emmy party I was asked what superhero I would be by a laughing asshole who thought working in comics was a joke.
My mind instantly went back to my bat run from the park.
“Mr. Fantastic.” I said.
“That’s the guy who can stretch really far, right? Why him?” said the asshole.
“Because your wife would enjoy that.” I answered, in my fuck you and your opinion of what I do voice.
No reply from the asshole. He just looked at his wife. “What superhero would you want to be?” I asked.
Still no answer from the guy who was now regretting all those shots he had at the party.
“Wait, I know. Little Bitch Man!” I said.
Yeah, I take comics and superheroes seriously.
WEDNESDAY: Mike Gold