Every town needs a super-hero. Unfortunately the town of Sticksville had to make do with Alan Miller, a.k.a. Christian Crusader. It wasn't that Christian Crusader was a bad super-hero. He had all the requisite hero traits. He was strong; he was brave; he was athletic; he could fly. He was also blessed with the kind of fantastic good looks that made all the ladies swoon. With his flowing blond locks and a body that looked as though it had been finely chiselled from marble Christian Crusader was every bit the dashing hunk.
It was just that... well... he was a little embarrassing. I mean c'mon, Christian Crusader. Surely there had to be better names remaining a hero could take. And there was that white costume with the cape and the bright red cross emblazoned across the chest. Every other self-respecting super-hero had ditched the spandex years ago.
Still, it could have been worse. At least he wasn't a dangerous psychopath like that guy up in Gotham. Nor was he creepy like that kid who was always swinging through the skyscrapers of New York. No, Christian Crusader was a good old-fashioned, moral, upstanding and above all Christian super-hero. Even his detractors would grudgingly admit he did a good job in keeping the mugger population down. He was their hero and the people of Sticksville loved him.
Well, except for the young men of Sticksville. They thought he was a flash git and despised him for continually running off with their girlfriends.
And except for some of the young women as well. But the stories they told couldn't possibly be true and must be malicious lies.
This evening Christian Crusader was on the trail of his arch-nemesis: the Harridan. The wicked witch had set up her pernicious operations again in a disused factory out by the waterfront. Christian Crusader felt it was his sworn duty to prevent the good young girls of Sticksville from being forced into a life of vice and to protect the good folk of Sticksville from gambling away their immortal souls.
Christian Crusader also had special reason to be excited tonight. Sticksville wasn't exactly the most riveting town for a super-hero. While other heroes had dangerous arch-villains to constantly test their mettle against, most of the action Christian Crusader got was beating up surly delinquents and rescuing cats from trees.
Of course there was always the Harridan, but an aging madam was hardly in the A-list of super-villainhood. However, if the rumours Christian Crusader had heard were true, the Harridan had brought in outside help especially to deal with him.
Outside help with super powers.
Outside help with super powers that also happened to be female.
Christian Crusader had always wanted to battle a super-villainess. Preferably one with an ample bosom and very skimpy costume. No doubt she'd try and use her feminine charms to seduce him, but he would prove himself to be more than a match for her cruel beauty and then use his might to show her righteous justice.
Christian Crusader was practically quivering with excitement as he flew through the air towards his destination.
***
Frank Moore thought his luck had turned for the evening when the dealer turned over a ten as the river card. Twice the fish had stayed in on hands he had no right to be in on and twice he'd got lucky. The first with a gutshot straight that had cracked Moore's three of a kind and then with an outrageous runner runner flush that had smashed Moore's aces. He could see the fish was thinking he had done it again with another completed straight as the other man pushed a big stack of chips into the middle.
Not this time, Jose, Moore thought, coming back over the top.
The other man gawped like the fish he was when Moore revealed the jack-ten in hand.
Full house tens over jacks eats the straight and that was his money back plus interest Moore thought. That was what he loved about poker. Lady Luck only carried folks so far before Predator Probability brought them down.
Just as he was collecting up his chips the window smashed inwards as a white-caped figure burst into the room.
Not again, Moore thought as a white-gloved fist smashed into his face, shattering his jaw.
And he'd only just got back out of hospital as well, Moore thought as he sank down into darkness.
***
Christian Crusader threw the last henchman through the door into the Harridan's office. He followed and struck a heroic pose as he challenged his arch-nemesis.
"The game is up Harridan!"
The old woman behind the desk fixed him with a withering stare.
"How many times do I have to tell you it's Ann Varley," The Harridan replied. "I ain't no time for this immature foolishness." How could anyone run a perfectly disreputable business with idiots like this running around? It was embarrassing, just plain embarrassing.
"I have come to bring you to justice for your foul crimes."
"Crimes," Varley laughed. "No one was getting hurt 'til you showed up and put a fist through their face."
"I have come to free the girls from your vile bondage."
"None of my girls is forced to do anything they don't want to. I treat my gals well," Varley replied.
"It isn't moral," Christian Crusader stated in his most judgemental voice.
"Always those quick to say what's right and wrong for other folks. Maybe they'd be better off getting their own house in order first if you know what I mean," Varley fixed Christian Crusader with a steely glare. "Was a guy here last Tuesday who fractured one of my gal's arms because he couldn't get it up. Big guy. You think that silly mask hides your identity, but how many other 6' 5'' guys built like linebackers with blond hair d'you think live in Sticksville."
"Prepare to face my righteous wrath!" Christian Crusader bellowed.
"Sister Squeeze, please dispose of this clown."
"As you wish ma'am."
Christian Crusader turned to see a girl casually sashay into the room. This was it, this was the moment he'd get to fight his super-villainess. He appraised her eagerly as she walked into the room. The bosom was most definitely ample and the skimpy costume, well that wasn't so much skimpy as completely non-existent. The girl was completely naked. And also blue, bright blue, right down to the hair that snaked down her back in corn-row dreadlocks.
The blueness was a little jarring at first, but once he got over the initial shock Christian Crusader had to admit it was definitely sexy. It helped that her body was an absolute knockout as well. She was tall, easily six foot, and the right shade of curvy over athletic. Her large blue breasts bounced free, each topped with a perky dark purple nipple. She stopped, hand on hip as she looked Christian Crusader up and down with smouldering eyes.
"'lo sugah," she pouted.