Light it up
So Captain Look-at-Me asked me to help out with his little side project. Sure, sure fine, you pompous gold and blue freak. Whatever…
Okay, my name is Mag Lite, and I fight crime… with flashlights.
Yes, with flashlights. Listen, before you start laughing… any harder, flashlights are heavy and can be used as clubs. I am quite effective at my calling. First I blind the criminal with a concentrated beam of light in their beady little unlawful eyes, then I throw one of the smaller Mags to stun the perp, and I finish up with either Truth or Justice, my heavy duty Mags.
Why Mag Lites you ask? Of all the flashlights that are out there on the market, Mags seems to be a bit more sturdily constructed. Hey, some of us superheros ain’t connected like the Batman. We cannot just buy whatever we want. Sweet Jesus, seems to be made of frikkin money. One time I saw him, well okay, I heard that he like threw 7 bat-a-rangs at one gang. One measily little gang. Just threw them. Like they were worth nothing. I am pretty sure that one bat-a-rang is worth probably more than all 20 Mag Lites I carry around with me. Listen, I could stop all sorts of crime if I didn’t have to subsist in the city as the lumber specialist of the local Home Depot. I mean I have rent and food to consider as well as crime fightin’. I bet the Bat doesn’t have to worry about rent. The pompous jerk! Anyway… all I can afford are an assortment of Mag Lite Flashlights. I need to get a new black shirt though, the one I have now seems to be more of a dark brownish purple and is starting to pill up. Great, another expense.
One time the Bat saw me take down a purse snatcher and just chuckled at me. My brush with the big-time. He said, “Go home you sad little man. Leave crime fighting to the proper authorities.” Like he is the “proper authorities.” Jerk. I bet if my uniform were nice and shiny, or if I had some sweet-ass tech, he would have welcomed me to the fold. He would be all, “Have you met Nightwing yet?” or “Robin, get our guest some lemonade.” I tried explaining to him that I was going to work on the small petty crap, while he went away saving the planet and stuff, but he was all snickering at me as he swung off into the night.
Hey, Bats, I have my yellow belt in Karate, and the sensei at my dojo says I show promise. I am gaining on you man, gaining. One of these days, Batman, you will give me some props for my crime-fighting. One of these days…
Okay, my name is Mag Lite, and I fight crime… with flashlights.
Yes, with flashlights. Listen, before you start laughing… any harder, flashlights are heavy and can be used as clubs. I am quite effective at my calling. First I blind the criminal with a concentrated beam of light in their beady little unlawful eyes, then I throw one of the smaller Mags to stun the perp, and I finish up with either Truth or Justice, my heavy duty Mags.
Why Mag Lites you ask? Of all the flashlights that are out there on the market, Mags seems to be a bit more sturdily constructed. Hey, some of us superheros ain’t connected like the Batman. We cannot just buy whatever we want. Sweet Jesus, seems to be made of frikkin money. One time I saw him, well okay, I heard that he like threw 7 bat-a-rangs at one gang. One measily little gang. Just threw them. Like they were worth nothing. I am pretty sure that one bat-a-rang is worth probably more than all 20 Mag Lites I carry around with me. Listen, I could stop all sorts of crime if I didn’t have to subsist in the city as the lumber specialist of the local Home Depot. I mean I have rent and food to consider as well as crime fightin’. I bet the Bat doesn’t have to worry about rent. The pompous jerk! Anyway… all I can afford are an assortment of Mag Lite Flashlights. I need to get a new black shirt though, the one I have now seems to be more of a dark brownish purple and is starting to pill up. Great, another expense.
One time the Bat saw me take down a purse snatcher and just chuckled at me. My brush with the big-time. He said, “Go home you sad little man. Leave crime fighting to the proper authorities.” Like he is the “proper authorities.” Jerk. I bet if my uniform were nice and shiny, or if I had some sweet-ass tech, he would have welcomed me to the fold. He would be all, “Have you met Nightwing yet?” or “Robin, get our guest some lemonade.” I tried explaining to him that I was going to work on the small petty crap, while he went away saving the planet and stuff, but he was all snickering at me as he swung off into the night.
Hey, Bats, I have my yellow belt in Karate, and the sensei at my dojo says I show promise. I am gaining on you man, gaining. One of these days, Batman, you will give me some props for my crime-fighting. One of these days…
posted by Mag Lite at 7:02 AM
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