Super Clean Hero Guy

The DVD release of the new Will Smith movie, Hancock has me thinking about whether I should have become a super hero instead of a writer. 

I had always wanted to be one as a youngster but my parents put the kibosh on it quickly. "Janitorial services is your destiny", my Mother would say, squashing my dreams in a fashion akin to The Hulk pulverizing a taxi cab. 

Despite her better wishes and to satisfy my curiosity, I purchased a pair of tights last week, and accessorized with a Union Jack flag for the cape, my wife's shiny bikini top to distract potential villains and an Indian rubber ball for sexy crotch bulge. 

I was ready to fight crime. 

Unfortunately, the only thing close to a felony in my neighborhood is Old Man Feldman's penchant for socks and sandals. Hardly worthy of an epic battle.

Another problem was my lack of super powers unless you consider flatulence on command a weapon. If so, I am legend. 

Finally, to be a hero you would have had to have saved someone or something and all I had was a mason jar filled with nail clippings. Disgusting, yes. Heroic, not quite.

With no villains to fight, I have decided to combine the tights and cape with a mop and bucket and become Super Cleaner Man - the city's greatest grime fighter.  

This way, my dream and my Mother's dream will both come true.