[Right, I was absent last Thursday, and I apologize. As you can see, the blog's now being updated every second Wednesday. This move should make for better quality updates.]
As we walked, Lisa told me about herself, her father, what he did, and what he could do for me.
"A long time ago, when I was six years old, I developed eye problems." began Lisa, clearing her throat in preparation for a long speech. "My father, an optometrist at the time, predicted that I would be completely blind before my seventh birthday if the trouble was left unchecked."
"My father decided that laser eye surgery would be the best option. Unfortunately, he was not very familiar with the technology, and didn't do the most professional job of it."
I smirked and looked at Lisa. "That's why he's not an optometrist anymore, right?"
"No, no, he stopped for completely different reasons," Lisa said calmly, proving herself to be one of the world's best (or worst, depending on how you flip the coin) liars.
"Anyway," Lisa continued, wisely guarding against side-tracking, "the surgery didn't go quite according to plan, and, after a searing pain that remains my most vivid childhood memory, I ended up blind. My father was devestated."
A father who tests potentially harmful surgery on his child? Geez, I'm almost scared of meeting him, I thought.
"However, the blindness was not to last. One day, when my parents were breakfasting, I walked in normally, and said good morning to both of them, looking them straight in the eyes."
"But, how?" I asked, wondering how much of this story was believable.
"To this day, I'm not sure, and neither is my father," Lisa answered, her voice airy with contemplation. "I can only imagine that the 'unconventional' surgery had a delayed reaction."
I nodded, and made a circular hand motion, urging her to continue.
"Well, the surgery's effects didn't stop there," Lisa said, obviously coming to the part about her powers. "Soon I could watch TV from across the house, and was able identify the backs of papers without them facing me. I couldn't read them, though, 'cause I was six."
"That explains your ability to read the business card," I replied, as I slowly took the story in. "But where does 'Laser Lady' come in?"
"Well..."
Lisa took a deep breath, and looked me directly in the eyes. I looked back, but soon found myself shielding my eyes, as Lisa was engulfed in a brilliant white flash.
The flash lasted for a few seconds only, and soon, standing where Lisa had been, I saw a proud superheroine.
Her costume was of a crimson red, and made of the same tight-fitting material as WaterProof Man's. On her chest, the letters "LL" were written in black, one slightly below the other. She wore a crimson visor, through which hid her eyes completely.
"This," the heroine began, using the same proud, brave tone of voice WaterProof Man was so fond of, "is where Laser Lady comes in."
I stood there and gaped. What else was there to do?
TO BE CONTINUED...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Lisa
Previously...
I pulled out the business card Dr Harrison had given me. Surely this wasn't the same Dr Ford?
And now, our feature presentation...
"Ah, yes, I see you have one of my dad's business cards," the woman said, with the slightest hint of surprise in her voice.
I looked at her quizzically. She was standing a good few metres away from me, and I was holding the card towards my face, so that its contents were completely invisible to her.
"How did you..." I started to ask, too confused to finish my question.
The woman moved closer. She was wearing the casual uniform of the day, jeans and a t-shirt, both fairly non-descript, the jeans of a faded light blue, and the shirt of a darker but still a little faded shade of red. Her common brown hair was done up in one of those ponytail things, presumably to keep it off her face.
The only odd thing about her was her eyes. At first glance, they were regular old dark brown, similar to the colour of most people's eyes. On closer inspection, however, one noticed that the pupils were a little too dilated, and had the tiniest specks of saturated green right in their centers.
"Well," the woman began, taking a deep breath. "You may have heard of Laser Lady, the superheroin who defeats villian with beams shot out of her eyes."
"Not actually," I replied truthfully. "I'm not really into comic books. Not even when I was a kid. Always found them a little too unrealistic."
"You wouldn't need to," the woman replied, with noticable annoyance. "Laser Lady is real."
"With a dumb name like that, I'm sure you can forgive me for thinking otherwise."
"So says 'WaterProof Man, anti-aquatic defender of justice'," she retorted, verbally dripping with sarcasm.
"Hey, it came with that name!" I shouted angrily, even though I secretly agreed with her.
The woman hung her head, paused for a moment, presumably to gather her thoughts, and opened her mouth to speak.
"Look, you're going off the point," she said, with a renewed sense of urgency. "The reason I'm talking about Laser Lady is because her secret identity is Lisa Ford. And that's me. Which is why I can see that business card."
I felt my jaw drop, and I stared at Lisa in awe. Guess I'm not the only one then.
"Shooting lasers ain't the only thing these eyes can do," she said proudly, pointing towards her eyes, adopting a silly stance, and breaking into a cheesy grin.
I raised my eyebrows, and prepared myself for the strange events that would surely follow. So much for getting rid of WaterProof Man...
I pulled out the business card Dr Harrison had given me. Surely this wasn't the same Dr Ford?
And now, our feature presentation...
"Ah, yes, I see you have one of my dad's business cards," the woman said, with the slightest hint of surprise in her voice.
I looked at her quizzically. She was standing a good few metres away from me, and I was holding the card towards my face, so that its contents were completely invisible to her.
"How did you..." I started to ask, too confused to finish my question.
The woman moved closer. She was wearing the casual uniform of the day, jeans and a t-shirt, both fairly non-descript, the jeans of a faded light blue, and the shirt of a darker but still a little faded shade of red. Her common brown hair was done up in one of those ponytail things, presumably to keep it off her face.
The only odd thing about her was her eyes. At first glance, they were regular old dark brown, similar to the colour of most people's eyes. On closer inspection, however, one noticed that the pupils were a little too dilated, and had the tiniest specks of saturated green right in their centers.
"Well," the woman began, taking a deep breath. "You may have heard of Laser Lady, the superheroin who defeats villian with beams shot out of her eyes."
"Not actually," I replied truthfully. "I'm not really into comic books. Not even when I was a kid. Always found them a little too unrealistic."
"You wouldn't need to," the woman replied, with noticable annoyance. "Laser Lady is real."
"With a dumb name like that, I'm sure you can forgive me for thinking otherwise."
"So says 'WaterProof Man, anti-aquatic defender of justice'," she retorted, verbally dripping with sarcasm.
"Hey, it came with that name!" I shouted angrily, even though I secretly agreed with her.
The woman hung her head, paused for a moment, presumably to gather her thoughts, and opened her mouth to speak.
"Look, you're going off the point," she said, with a renewed sense of urgency. "The reason I'm talking about Laser Lady is because her secret identity is Lisa Ford. And that's me. Which is why I can see that business card."
I felt my jaw drop, and I stared at Lisa in awe. Guess I'm not the only one then.
"Shooting lasers ain't the only thing these eyes can do," she said proudly, pointing towards her eyes, adopting a silly stance, and breaking into a cheesy grin.
I raised my eyebrows, and prepared myself for the strange events that would surely follow. So much for getting rid of WaterProof Man...
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Hero In Distress
Previously...
The thugs looked at each other. This was going to be too easy.
And now, our feature presentation...
If WaterProof Man was a regular superhero, and this was a regular chronicle of a regular superhero's regular adventures, then our hero would undoubtably get himself out of this tight situation and rescue the fair maiden from her plight, with ample amounts of action as he pummels her assailants into the ground.
Rest assured, though, that this is not a regular superhero story. (But if you haven't already figured that out from the absurd name of our hero and his ridiculously irrelevant powers, then there's little anyone can do for you...)
--
Ten minutes later, WaterProof Man was lying face-down in an alleyway dumpster, bruised, battered and scarred (not to mention covered in garbage from the aforementioned dumpster).
The thugs had not gone easy on him, and each one had made sure to take his time treating WaterProof Man to a thorough beating. However, as WaterProof Man noticed out of the corner of his swollen eye while one of the more heavyset thugs was performing actions not fit to print, the thugs were so busy beating him up that they lost interest in harrassing the woman, letting her escape.
This put a smile on WaterProof Man's torn, discoloured face, as he knew that his mission had been successful, despite its less-than-elegant execution.
WaterProof Man pulled himself out of the dumpster, stood up straight, and gave a salute. Then I found myself covered in garbage, and feeling very banged up.
I didn't have much time to reflect on this though, as I heard a voice from behind me.
"You're new at this, aren't you?"
I spun around to see a young woman, the same one WaterProof Man had just "rescued" from that group of thugs. She had obviously seen my transformation, but wasn't surprised or shocked by it. This confused me.
"Who are you?" I asked her suspiciously, readying myself for anything.
"Lisa Ford, daughter of Dr Gareth Ford, the famous super-hero trainer/psychologist," she replied confidently, smiling and delivering every word proudly.
I pulled out the business card Dr Harrison had given me. Surely this wasn't the same Dr Ford?
TO BE CONTINUED...
The thugs looked at each other. This was going to be too easy.
And now, our feature presentation...
If WaterProof Man was a regular superhero, and this was a regular chronicle of a regular superhero's regular adventures, then our hero would undoubtably get himself out of this tight situation and rescue the fair maiden from her plight, with ample amounts of action as he pummels her assailants into the ground.
Rest assured, though, that this is not a regular superhero story. (But if you haven't already figured that out from the absurd name of our hero and his ridiculously irrelevant powers, then there's little anyone can do for you...)
--
Ten minutes later, WaterProof Man was lying face-down in an alleyway dumpster, bruised, battered and scarred (not to mention covered in garbage from the aforementioned dumpster).
The thugs had not gone easy on him, and each one had made sure to take his time treating WaterProof Man to a thorough beating. However, as WaterProof Man noticed out of the corner of his swollen eye while one of the more heavyset thugs was performing actions not fit to print, the thugs were so busy beating him up that they lost interest in harrassing the woman, letting her escape.
This put a smile on WaterProof Man's torn, discoloured face, as he knew that his mission had been successful, despite its less-than-elegant execution.
WaterProof Man pulled himself out of the dumpster, stood up straight, and gave a salute. Then I found myself covered in garbage, and feeling very banged up.
I didn't have much time to reflect on this though, as I heard a voice from behind me.
"You're new at this, aren't you?"
I spun around to see a young woman, the same one WaterProof Man had just "rescued" from that group of thugs. She had obviously seen my transformation, but wasn't surprised or shocked by it. This confused me.
"Who are you?" I asked her suspiciously, readying myself for anything.
"Lisa Ford, daughter of Dr Gareth Ford, the famous super-hero trainer/psychologist," she replied confidently, smiling and delivering every word proudly.
I pulled out the business card Dr Harrison had given me. Surely this wasn't the same Dr Ford?
TO BE CONTINUED...
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Damsel In Distress
Previously...
Upon realizing what it was for, and why Dr Harrison had given it to me, I buried my face in my empty hand. Why had I even bothered going to the doctor?
And now, our feature presentation...
My card-holding hand dropped, and I slipped the card into my pocket, more from force of habit than anything else. I lifted my head out of my other hand, and stared blankly at the doctor, who still had that confounded look of concern on his face.
Without saying a word, I got up, turned around, and trudged towards the door, almost forgetting to open it on my way out. There was nothing more I could do to persuade this doctor that my story was true.
To be honest, I didn't blame him for not believing it. The idea of someone getting sprayed by a magical can of waterproofing spray and then gaining a superpowered alternate personality as a result was extremely far-fetched.
I walked down the hall, past the waiting room, and out onto the street. The sun was shining brightly, and people were milling around as people do, busy with their jobs, lives and families.
As I was trudging down the pavement, I caught a glimpse of something slightly out of the ordinary in the corner of my eye. A lone woman surrounded by a group of thugs.
I turned around to get a better look, and saw that the woman looked roughed up, and that one of the thugs was carrying a handbag, which, even in this day and age, cannot be seen as normal.
All of a sudden, I got the overpowering urge to run for cover. I tried to resist it, but found I couldn't, and felt me legs moving underneath me.
I reached a dumpster, and, to my horror, climbed up its metal surface and dove inside it. Once again, I felt that strange feeling of having my mind taken over, and I lost control.
--
WHOOSH! Sending a rain of garbage flying everywhere, WaterProof Man emerged proudly from the dumpster. He surveyed the area around him, and homed in on the thugs.
"Halt!" he said, as he flew towards them and landed in the middle of the group, with the woman. "Leave this citizen to her business, and be off with you."
At first, the thugs were a little afraid. They had never seen a flying man before (very few people have, y'know). But then, realizing that this stranger was outnumbered six-to-one, the thugs regained their confidence.
"What're you gonna do 'bout it, flyin' man?" asked one of them harshly, giving his best and most aggressive death stare.
"I am WaterProof Man!" shouted WaterProof Man defiantly. "Your water-based attacks are futile against me."
The thugs looked at each other. This was going to be too easy.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Upon realizing what it was for, and why Dr Harrison had given it to me, I buried my face in my empty hand. Why had I even bothered going to the doctor?
And now, our feature presentation...
My card-holding hand dropped, and I slipped the card into my pocket, more from force of habit than anything else. I lifted my head out of my other hand, and stared blankly at the doctor, who still had that confounded look of concern on his face.
Without saying a word, I got up, turned around, and trudged towards the door, almost forgetting to open it on my way out. There was nothing more I could do to persuade this doctor that my story was true.
To be honest, I didn't blame him for not believing it. The idea of someone getting sprayed by a magical can of waterproofing spray and then gaining a superpowered alternate personality as a result was extremely far-fetched.
I walked down the hall, past the waiting room, and out onto the street. The sun was shining brightly, and people were milling around as people do, busy with their jobs, lives and families.
As I was trudging down the pavement, I caught a glimpse of something slightly out of the ordinary in the corner of my eye. A lone woman surrounded by a group of thugs.
I turned around to get a better look, and saw that the woman looked roughed up, and that one of the thugs was carrying a handbag, which, even in this day and age, cannot be seen as normal.
All of a sudden, I got the overpowering urge to run for cover. I tried to resist it, but found I couldn't, and felt me legs moving underneath me.
I reached a dumpster, and, to my horror, climbed up its metal surface and dove inside it. Once again, I felt that strange feeling of having my mind taken over, and I lost control.
--
WHOOSH! Sending a rain of garbage flying everywhere, WaterProof Man emerged proudly from the dumpster. He surveyed the area around him, and homed in on the thugs.
"Halt!" he said, as he flew towards them and landed in the middle of the group, with the woman. "Leave this citizen to her business, and be off with you."
At first, the thugs were a little afraid. They had never seen a flying man before (very few people have, y'know). But then, realizing that this stranger was outnumbered six-to-one, the thugs regained their confidence.
"What're you gonna do 'bout it, flyin' man?" asked one of them harshly, giving his best and most aggressive death stare.
"I am WaterProof Man!" shouted WaterProof Man defiantly. "Your water-based attacks are futile against me."
The thugs looked at each other. This was going to be too easy.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Thursday, September 25, 2008
The Typical Response
Previously...
"Well, Doctor," I said nervously, clearing my throat. "It all started with this unmarked waterproofing spraycan..."
And now, our feature presentation...
After the good ten minutes it took for me to tell my story, I stopped, took a deep breath, and waited for the doctor's response.
He had been a good listener, keeping quiet and maintaining a look of interest on his face throughout the story. I thought that perhaps he may believe it.
For a moment, he did nothing. Then a his mouth stretched into a wide smile, showing all his teeth. I was afraid of this.
"Mr Patterson," he began in a good-natured voice. "That's a brilliant little story you have there. Unfortunately, this is a doctor's office, not a publisher's office."
"Doctor, it's not a story," I stated seriously, staring at the doctor severely. "It's all true, it's all happened to me, and, as a doctor, I expect you to do what you can to fix it."
"There's a publisher's office just down the street, I'm sure they'll like the story..." the doctor continued, obviously having ignored my last statement completely. "But I'm not sure about the main character. I mean, what kind of a superpower is 'being waterproof'?"
"Doctor, listen to me!" I said firmly, raising my voice and locking my eyes on the doctor's. "This is real. It is not a story. Help me."
Immediately, the doctor's facial expression soured, and he became serious again, even with a slight look of concern in his eyes.
"Oh my," he said slowly, with realization dawning on him somehow. "This is serious."
I smiled at my triumph. However, it was an uneasy smile, because I wasn't sure of the doctor's reasons for changing his attitude so suddenly.
"You need help," the doctor continued, with a large hint of sympathy in his voice. "But not from me. Here, take this card."
Dr Harrison handed me a small, white, cardboard business card, printed with neat black lettering, and a few generic light grey line patterns to make it look elegant.
I took it, and looked at it. It read as follows:
DR FORD
PSYCHOLOGIST
58 CLYDE ST CRIMESTOWN
(022) 523 5831
Upon realizing what it was for, and why Dr Harrison had given it to me, I buried my face in my empty hand. Why had I even bothered going to the doctor?
TO BE CONTINUED...
"Well, Doctor," I said nervously, clearing my throat. "It all started with this unmarked waterproofing spraycan..."
And now, our feature presentation...
After the good ten minutes it took for me to tell my story, I stopped, took a deep breath, and waited for the doctor's response.
He had been a good listener, keeping quiet and maintaining a look of interest on his face throughout the story. I thought that perhaps he may believe it.
For a moment, he did nothing. Then a his mouth stretched into a wide smile, showing all his teeth. I was afraid of this.
"Mr Patterson," he began in a good-natured voice. "That's a brilliant little story you have there. Unfortunately, this is a doctor's office, not a publisher's office."
"Doctor, it's not a story," I stated seriously, staring at the doctor severely. "It's all true, it's all happened to me, and, as a doctor, I expect you to do what you can to fix it."
"There's a publisher's office just down the street, I'm sure they'll like the story..." the doctor continued, obviously having ignored my last statement completely. "But I'm not sure about the main character. I mean, what kind of a superpower is 'being waterproof'?"
"Doctor, listen to me!" I said firmly, raising my voice and locking my eyes on the doctor's. "This is real. It is not a story. Help me."
Immediately, the doctor's facial expression soured, and he became serious again, even with a slight look of concern in his eyes.
"Oh my," he said slowly, with realization dawning on him somehow. "This is serious."
I smiled at my triumph. However, it was an uneasy smile, because I wasn't sure of the doctor's reasons for changing his attitude so suddenly.
"You need help," the doctor continued, with a large hint of sympathy in his voice. "But not from me. Here, take this card."
Dr Harrison handed me a small, white, cardboard business card, printed with neat black lettering, and a few generic light grey line patterns to make it look elegant.
I took it, and looked at it. It read as follows:
DR FORD
PSYCHOLOGIST
58 CLYDE ST CRIMESTOWN
(022) 523 5831
Upon realizing what it was for, and why Dr Harrison had given it to me, I buried my face in my empty hand. Why had I even bothered going to the doctor?
TO BE CONTINUED...
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