“Stain, man, I got t-shirts on the brain. You know a place we can get shirts custom?”

“Downtown. I’m up for the walk if you are.”

“Yeah, I’m up for the walk, but downtown is farther away than my sense of dignity when I saw that 70-year-old woman in the parking lot. I don’t think we’ll make it before they close.”

“They’ve already closed. You still up for the walk?”

We start walking downtown, which is at least a 30 minute cab ride from the hotel. The moon is full in the sky, and there are only a few people out on the streets, even on this warm night.

We walk past a couple on the street, holding hands, and Stain immediately has one of those “light bulb over his head” ideas, so he stops them. “Hey folks, I’m Stain, and this is my crime fighting friend Sappho. We’re superheros. Have you seen anyone committing crimes?”

The man gives us a funny look, but the woman seems a bit more trusting when she points and says: “yes, there’s a post office just around the corner and some teens are putting graffiti all over it.”

I have to clarify for them. “Right, we don’t mean crimes against big bureaucracy, business, or other large empires that need to be taken down a peg. We’re just talking about crimes with a victim.”

The male part of the couple quickly chimes in, as if he has something important to say. “We are victims. We pay our taxes to maintain that building, and now it’s going to cost us extra to get rid of the graffiti.”

Stain looks appalled. “Why would anyone get rid of public art on a public building? That’s censorship.”

The argument begins to get fairly volatile between Stain and the man, so I use the opportunity to talk to his girlfriend off to the side. She shakes her head. “He always does this shit.”

Stain actually bitch slaps the guy. The guy is fuming mad, yelling at the top of his lungs, so Stain laughs and runs away, like lightning. The man starts chasing him.

The woman is about to go after them, but I take her hand. “Don’t worry. He’ll never catch Stain.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He’s drunk. It’s his superpower. When he’s drunk, he can run really fast?”

“Wow, he is really fast. Wait, what’s your superpower then?”

“I can get women to show me their boobs.”

“What? How is that a superpower?”

“Do you normally show your boobs to people?”


I squeeze her hand gently, to remind her that our hands are still locked. “Wouldn’t you love a moment of pure adrenaline, pure energy? That’s what your angry boyfriend gets when he leaves you here alone and runs off to fight with people.”

“I guess, but I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You don’t have to. You just lift that little piece of cloth and let your amazingly beautiful breasts bounce, and if you don’t feel that rush – free shot – punch me in the face.”

“You’d let me punch you in the face?”

“It would be totally worth it to see someone as beautiful as you.”

She has a bit of an “angry at the boyfriend” but excited look at the same time. She pulls her shirt and bra down, instead of up, hiding her small belly but exposing her massive breasts.

The bulge is back. “Oh my.”

We didn’t notice, but the boyfriend is heading back, and he starts yelling.

“What the fuck bitch? That guy is fucking dead. Do you hear me you superhero motherfucker? I’m going to kill you and ass rape your dead fucking corpse.”

The woman is so distracted that she forgets to pull her shirt back up, and I’m so distracted by the shirt being down that I can’t even look away from her. I hear his foot steps getting closer. Suddenly, I hear a loud thump, and I wince. Stain did a jumping leg tackle on the running maniac. He’s doing his best to hold him down, but the guy is fairly big and fairly angry.

“Sappho, let’s go man.”

I look at the woman, shirt still down. So, do you feel the energy?”

“Yes, yes. Do you?”

I cup her breast, pinch the nipple, and kiss her on the cheek. “Oh yes, indeed.”

Stain and I begin to run off, but I’m going really slow. Stain looks back at me. “Come on man. He’s going to catch up.”

“It’s difficult to run. I have a big boob bulge in my britches. No worries. I’ve got an idea.”

We run over to the post office to see a scene of the most beautiful rain forest set a blaze, painted on the side of the building.

Stain sees the artists and waves at them. “I love your work.”

There’s no sign of the disgruntled boyfriend now. He probably wasn’t up for a four against one scenario.

Son of Sappho Stain and Sappho , , ,

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