Karate Fighting Death Pigeon

Once upon a time, when things were simpler, there was a man. He wasn’t an extraordinary man at first. He was rather plain, to be painfully honest. Nothing about him screamed “OMG~!” However, that all changed, and in a big way, I may add.

He was born Herschel Leon Fitzsimmons during the fourth month, on the first day, of the year Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Seven. He was, without a doubt, the whitest child ever born in the world. His skin was milk white, and if you looked closely enough, you could see through his entire body in a mere glance. His parents, Kwame and Sharika Fitzsimmons, were puzzled by this happenstance, because they were African American. When they asked the equally puzzled doctors about this, all that they could was simply shrug and stare. It was a confusing thing to happen, for sure, as there were no other known cases of this ever happening in the history of ever.

Growing up in the projects of Brooklyn, New York, life was certainly hard for young Herschel. Due to the color of his skin, his peers didn’t exactly accept him. From an early age, he was subject to such harsh insults as “White Bread”, “Honky”, “Powder”, and, worst of all, “Cracker Dick”. But, as he had learned from his parents, he couldn’t help where he was being raised, and decided to make the best of a not-so-good situation.

He was a peculiar boy, as most of his teachers noted, from an early age. He would often come to school, singing songs by Elton John and dressed in suspenders, which would cause his peers to be even meaner to him, but young Herschel persisted in doing things that he wanted to do. Kwame and Sharika simply encouraged the lad, and told him if he could handle the pressure from the other kids, then they wouldn’t say anything the wiser to him. And so he did, going about his business, but also trying to make friends, too. It was a hard thing for such an outsider to do, especially with children who couldn’t be more different. Eventually, however, he did find a few sympathetic youngsters who also happened to be outsiders. It bolstered Herschel’s confidence, and made him feel more comfortable as to who he was.

As he and his friends grew up and into their teens, they became inseparable. They did everything together: Watching the Russian Speed Skating Finals in Minsk, collecting bushels of leaves that they eventually glued together into a giant catchers mitt, and invented their own language based on punching each other in the head at various strengths and speeds. The group became known as “The Super Fun Time Smile Gang of Four”, a name coined by no one ever until just now. Of the four, all but Herschel had been born in America. The others’, in alphabetical order by their country of origin, also included:

Davy Friedmont (AKA: The Kangaroo Loincloth)- Born in Australia, Davy was the product of Stan and Bertha Friedmont, Australian Deep Sea Divers who both suffered from Agoraphobia when not in the sea. Figure that one out.

Miguel Ricardo Sanchez-Fuentes Kostopolis (AKA: Spoon Man McGee)- Born in Mexico, he immigrated with his birth parents to Brooklyn when he was six. Unfortunately and tragically, his birth parents were trampled to death in a Trojan Horse parade, which deeply damaged young Miguel. He was later adopted by an Eastern Greek Orthodox priest, and later developed an affinity for spoons, hence the nickname. McGee just sounded cool added to it.

Helena Gustavsson (AKA: That Hot Swedish Chick With Awesome Hair)- Obviously born and raised in Sweden, Helena came to America at an early age. She developed extremely early, and began to wear a bra at the tender of age of 5. She never really had done anything spectacular, but Herschel and the gang liked her because she had boobs and Super Awesome Hair. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be an outsider. But, c’mon, she’s Swedish. They’re kinda weird.

Together with this ragtag group of foreigners, Herschel had found a support system outside of his parents, which any young person really needs in order to survive. He had made leaps and bounds as a person, and it showed. No longer was he a weird white kid born to black parents who looked like a malnourished human bottle of Baby Powder with suspenders, he was a weird white kid born to black parents who looked like a malnourished human bottle of Baby Powder with suspenders WHO HAD FRIENDS. And it meant the world to him.

Now, this is the part of the story that gets tricky. Various people have told us various things about what truly happened the night of August 17^{th, 2003. Everything from a pizza parlor explosion that had somehow been mixed with toxic chemicals from a sewage treatment plant, to a Haitian Voodoo doctor dressed in a giant chicken suit cursing them have been hypothesized, yet no one truly knows what happened. All that we know is that on that night, the four teens were out playing Hopscotch and selling stolen watches from trench coats when it happened. They had left normally, telling their parents a series of lies no one believed, and met up in a dilapidated park that only had one set of fucking monkey bars. What a crock of shit that was. Anyways, they were doing their business, and that’s when everyone’s memory got a little hazy. Emerging from the blackout, everyone was…different. No longer were they awkward teenagers being raised in a precarious environment for anyone (especially foreign kids and a white dude named Herschel), but they were…}

SUPERHEROES.

What had happened, and why it happened, was rather inconsequential. I mean, seriously, they were SUPERHEROES. You wouldn’t be asking questions either, jerk. They had also mysteriously aged 10 to 15 years. It was like that Tom Hanks movie “Big”, only with more superpowers and less Tom Hanks.

Davy, now interestingly looking a lot like Hugh Jackman, had found that when he jumped into the air, he would come down with tons of force, akin to a thousand kangaroos. He also had a boomerang and other assorted Australian stereotypes as weapons. He thought to himself “Hm, this could come in handy when fighting crime”, and proceeded to jump up into the air and come down onto a dumpster, shattering it into tens of thousands of little pieces of metal and garbage. It was pretty cool. He also had on a loincloth.

As Miguel looked on in wonderment, he noticed in the reflection of the mirror that he suspiciously looked like Freddy Rodriguez, only like 5 inches taller. He was also interested to find out he had a metal exterior, much like a spoon. As he investigated further, he also found out that he had a utility belt around his waist, filled with razor tipped spoons. He picked one of the spoons out of his belt and threw it against a brick wall, and the damn thing pretty burrowed its way through. He was pleased with these findings.

Now, after they finished checking their own awesomeness out, they glanced over at Helena, who looked quite like Jessica Simpson if she were Swedish. All the guys kind of drooled over her as she herself investigated her new body. She saw that her once perky breasts were even perkier, having gone up a full cup size and all. She quickly realized her power was to distract people, and allow the guys to do manly things. She then noticed her awesome hair, and quickly waved it through the hair, which promptly cast a spell on the guys. This was actually pretty cool, as they were almost floating through the air under her spell.

Most changed, out of everyone, was Herschel. While he didn’t quickly become good looking like the rest of the people, he noticed that he did look quite different. No longer was he a skinny beanpole of a child, he was now a full grown chubby adult, looking like the spitting image of Zack Galifinakis. He was still outfitted in his suspenders and everything, and his clothing wasn’t changed. He did, however, have the overwhelming desire to breakdance. So, unable to fight this urge, he proceeded with the whitest b-boy dance ever. The power behind it, though, was freaking outstanding. As soon as he started to twirl on his head and his hands, a wave of electromagnetic energy swept over the whole park, destroying windows and children’s spirits within a 100-foot radius of where he was standing. The rest of the group, in awe at the awkwardness going on, just stopped and gawked at him as he continued to twirl and put everyone who had ever attempted to breakdance to shame. They weren’t fazed by its sheer power, because they were superheroes, too, and were for some reason immune to other heroes doing their thang, daddy.

Finally, Herschel stopped, and they all congregated in the middle of the park. No one said anything for a few minutes, because they were all kind of taken back by what had happened. Finally, Miguel spoke up, and said what everyone else seemed to be thinking: “What the fuck?”

What the fuck, indeed, Miguel. What the fuck indeed.

Now, they didn’t really have the urge to fight crime just yet, as they were all just so consumed by their powers and their friends’ powers. As they walked home, in their superhero getups, it dawned on them. They had fought through so much in their young(ish) lives, and made it through okay. So, the four of them, on the spot, decided to use their newfound awesomeness to fight injustice in the world. Having already been appointed the unofficial leader of the pack, Herschel knew that I was his duty to lead the charge, and his friends quickly agreed on this thought because, they summarized, because he was still the most fucked up out of all of them. He concurred, and then died a little inside.

As the four separated for the night and went their separate ways, they all knew that they had finally found their calling in life. No longer would they be persecuted for their differences: They would be the persecutors. No longer would they have injustices heaved upon them like bags of dog shit: They would be the ones throwing the shit in the face of injustice. And no longer would they be considered weird and told they smell bad: They would…wait, no. That would still happen.

As Herschel went into his house that night, he startled his parents. They looked upon their son, who still looked a LOT like Zack Galifinakis, with wide eyes. He told them some convoluted story that didn’t make any sense whatsoever, and they quickly agreed with their son/Zack Galifiniakis, because they didn’t want be robbed and/or eaten.

He lay in bed, unable to sleep that night. Eyes wide open; he knew that the dawn of a new time had come. One where he would finally try and teach the world a lesson, and show that they needed to be nicer, or something like that. He wanted the world to celebrate differences, and would beat down with swift justice those who dare oppose this. He wanted to use his and his friends’ powers for good, and he knew that he would.

It was only a matter of time before he got to put this into action, and when he did, he would have the last laugh, baby.

OR EVERYONE ELSE WOULD BE CUT.