Yourself

Who should I try it on first? You think for a moment. But only a moment. Myself, of course. If the Universe saw fit to give me such a gift, I couldn't possibly deny it! One word comes into your head: Superhero! Able to leap, NO! fly, strong enough to juggle cars, smart enough to escape any trap, handsome enough to melt the ladies panties with just a wink, and well endowed enough to keep them coming back for more. Satisfied, you point the gun to yourself and..... CLICK. Nothing. You should have known it was a fake, just a toy. A hero would never have used it anyway, a heroes strength is in his heart, you think. But his brainy, well meaning sidekick would have tried it to show he was ready, gotten into some zany antics, and learned his lesson the hard way, you think as you idly play with the gun. You point it at you again, but this time ZAP!

As the flash fades from your vision, you catch sight of yourself in a mirror. Did I shrink a few inches? No, that's not it. Did I loose weight? No, I have always been a bit on the scrawny side. It must be these new glasses. I'm not used to them. Wait, glasses?! When did I get glasses? THE GUN MUST HAVE WORKED! You start to recall the gun, which is now sitting on the couch, and how it must have turned you into that Know-it-all braniac stereotype you thought of just before you tried it again. But why didn't it work the first time then? Of courth, you say out loud to nobody in particular there mutht be a limit to the gunth ability to alter thith reality. SHIT, you say to yourself, do I really sound like that? I mutht put mythelf back to the way I wath, potht hatht! Shit, it's getting worse. You better hurry. Before you can look for the gun, there is a knock at your door. Hi Mrs. Tomath, how are you? You meekly ask. "How am I?" Asks a heavyset black woman. "Waiting on last months rent! That's how I am. If you don't get me at least half of last months rent, all your HeroMan shit gonna be on E-bay by the end of the week and I'll be renting this place out to my nephew. If I'm gonna have a deadbeat under my roof it might as well be family!" and she storms out. Sighing, you pick up the Stereotype gun. What would HeroMan do? you ask yourself. UGH! Nothing! You shout in your head. Because HeroMan's not real! Superheros aren't real! But villains.... I wouldn't have to be super, just extraordinary. And a wicked grin appears on your face. ZAP

As the light fades again (Fuck I'm gonna have to remember to close my eyes next time) there's a knock on the door again. _Hey Mrs. T. I said.. _as you open the door to your apartment (apartment?) a musclehead in a black T-shirt is at your door. Come on Boss, we gonna be late, grab the shit and let's go, yo! There's supposed to be mad bitches at this thing, yo! Rich white ones, too, so you may want to grab the big bag. Memories come flooding back to you: hanging out on the streets, selling your first ****, stealing your first car, meeting that out of state dealer and becoming one of the cities biggest crime bosses. And the gun. SHIT! You grab it and put it in your safe as you take tonight's supply out and head to the club. Alright Tito, vamanos.

Loud electronic music is blaring from just about everywhere, and the smell of smoke, sex and sweat are thick in the air. While you don't stop to talk to anyone as you head to the back, you do get a look around. Metal piercings, latex clothes and leather accoutrements seem to be the norm. From a thick glass walled room in the back of the theater you get a quiet view of the whole event, and there is very little that isn't going on. Men, women, and quite a few who fall somewhere in between, are doing all sorts of things that makes even a hardened thug like you raise an eyebrow. On stage, a man in a top hat and tails taps a microphone Welcome Ladies, Gentlemen, and..... Miscellania (a few laughs) to our little get together! I just want to thank you for making this years gathering better than ever! Without further ado, HAVE AT IT! And with that the crowd is right back into it as if they didn't miss a beat. The gentleman comes down from the stage and straight up to the office. Ah, Big Billy Benitez, welcome. Can I offer you a drink? Scotch on the rocks. Excellent. First to business, then to pleasure, eh He goes to a safe on the wall and pulls out ten stacks of cash, handing it to you. You thumb through the bills, inhaling deeplyAh, my second favorite smell in the world. You take out a small wooden box about the size of a soda can and hand it to the gentleman. Opening the lid, he samples a pinch of the white powder inside, smiles and hands it to a woman in a smart looking suit who promptly leaves. You put the cash into the bag that held the ****, hand it to one of your guys and he is gone. Now that business is concluded, can I offer you and your associates some of what I sell? Men, women, both, in between? you name it, I can have it sent up. Or would you like to go downstairs and..... browse?