Issue #1

"The Watering Hole, huh?" you muttered. The sign was...imaginative. A pitcher of beer pouring into a hole with a shovel next to it. It was certainly off the beaten path, about a twenty minute drive from your apartment. A gravel parking lot off of the highway, a wide concrete porch with some rocking chairs on it in the front, and nifty storm doors in the back that you could only assume led to the basement. That seemed like it could be helpful if the restaurant was a front for your new nighttime hobby.

Thinking about the fact that you would have superpowers sent shivers down your spine and lit a fire in your belly. Your first power seemed oddly niche and nothing that was particularly useful in standing up to other superpowered individuals. You had to say, the fact that the book seemed to be pigeonholing you into being a villain was not something you were particularly enthused about. But who says a villain has to be a bad guy. You could be an anti-hero that the public just misunderstands. That would still make the book happy right?

There was only one other car in the parking lot and the front door swung open to reveal it's owner. "Heya kid! Punctual. I like that. Taken care of all the preparations just like your instructions said. Itchin to get this thing going!"

The figure in front of you was similar to the challenge behind Joey Chestnut's crowning accomplishments, in the sense that he was a lot to take in. He rocked a bleach blonde mullet behind a Gucci headband like a tennis player before the turn of the century. His eyebrows were arched out as if he was constantly waiting on you to comprehend the punchline to a joke he had made. And between his teeth he rolled a toothpick. His white hoodie sleeves were rolled up and showing off scars from burns and cuts long since healed and various nautical tattoos, some faded and some fresh. His light washed denim jeans and hoodie were clean and crisp, but did not seem to match up with the fur lined red crocs he was wearing.

"Uhhh it's nice to meet you..." you paused, realizing you did not know his name.

"Cid. Boy you weren't kidding back when you said you wouldn't remember any details once we met in person," he pontificated with a chuckle before sticking out his hand to shake yours, "Pleasure to meet ya boss."

You guess that answers that question. You shake his hand back as a thought pops in your head, "This isn't secretly an airship right? You're not like a pilot or mechanic?"

"Uhhh no sir. Just your everyday chef and operator extraordinaire. Why do you ask?"

"Oh just a thought from a video game series. Anyways, is it cool if I take a look around?" you ask.

His face lights up at that. "Well of course boss. You own the place. I've thrown together some samples from the menu idea you sent me. And I know you wanted it to be pretty run of the mill bar food, but I couldn't very well help myself from tryin out a couple fun things once my brain started going," he explains while holding the door open for you.

It was about as classic a sports bar as you could get. Dead down the middle was the bar itself with rows of TV's hanging up above and squeaky clean stools wrapping around the perimeter of the ellipse. On the left half of the room was eight tables and eight booths. On the right half was two pool tables, a shuffleboard table, and a dart board. Past the shuffleboard table was a door to a patio area with more TV's up high to watch whatever game was on. Directly in the back of the space were big swinging doors to the kitchen, where Cid was beckoning you now.

You followed him back into the kitchen where a row of dishes were waiting on the expo cart. Maybe it was because your palate was hyper sensitized after the last two weeks of boiled chicken and white rice in a valiant effort to survive to the next paycheck. Maybe it was because this food was beautiful, aromatic, and still sizzling. But either way Pavlov would have a field day with how much your mouth was watering.

"I know! I know! Part of me was saying fuck you Elvis. You will not tarnish the name of my hamburger with your peanut butter or your bananas. But part of me wanted to prove to my inner child that anything is possible. Ya kna'at I'm sayin?" Cid affirmed as he wildly gesticulated to really drive home his point.

Your tastebuds were on overload. Honestly you felt bad that his talents would be wasted at a little sports bar that was acting as a front to your larger than life future pastime, oxymoronic as those words sounded. But you were also so excited to be able to taste this man's food on a regular basis.

"I'll go ahead and clean this up while you go check out your office back there. The girls should be gettin here for their final interview in just a few. I'll go ahead and send the first one back when she gets here, if that ain't an issue for ya. I got my staff taken care of for the kitchen and we got a lot of the front of house taken care of. Just need two more shift leads and head bartender," he paused and took a moment to think up how to phrase the next part in the correct way, "They're some reeeeal pretty ladies, boss. They've already got my stamp of approval. If you wanna give 'em the green light, the uniforms should be back there behind the desk."

Thank you. Thank you. Thank. Fucking. You. You sent out your gratitude to that anthropomorphic snow leopard and every star that you were born under. The office itself was nice. A little bit grim, seeing as it had no windows and a basement cellar door. But it was nice. Copper legs held up a thick slab of glass in a modern art style of desk, with an open cardboard box of uniforms beside it. You picked up one of the uniforms out of the box and inspected the skimpy little outfit. A cropped white corset and a skinny red and black skirt.

You heard the front door open and set the uniform back in the box before making your way out of your office.

"Hello ladies. Boss is right back-" Cid caught himself as he turned and saw you, "Well boss is right there."

You were a little worried that your heart was going to beat out of your chest. This was only supposed to be the cover to hide your super powered alter ego. You had not even tried to use your abilities yet or started finding a 'Mechanical' or 'Physical' power. But here you were, going from underpaid employee in a cubicle farm to restaurant owner interviewing three absolutely beautiful women. You were scared that the dream was going to end soon and you would have to wake up.

The three women all walked in and smiled at you. The first was a tall fair skinned blonde with a short, punk rock haircut. The next was a curvy Latina with a nose ring. The last was a dark skinned woman who had a devious smile on her face. "Good morning. Who wants to come back and chat first while Cid gives the rest of y'all a little tour of the place?" you asked with a friendly smile.

The Latina hopped forward.

You stuck out your hand, "Nice to meet you. I'm Monty."