By Bethy <email@example.com> and ShivaSaavik <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Submitted: November 2001
Summary: This is a sequel to the fanfic "It's Not Easy Being Me" and in response to Melisma's challenge on the listserv to tell the story of the… well, read it and see for yourself.
Comments welcome. All kinds.
"Here we go again," I thought. Once again, fancy-pants, (well, tights really. *Tight* tights. There are some things that just should not be seen. Especially by me.) was spinning into his multi-colored clown outfit. The only joy I took from this was that it meant he would be applying me and even that joy was little. In his other…form…he refused to use me, or even a lesser version of me! I shudder at the memory of his flopping, flapping, flyaway hair.
Now, I will admit, when he does use me, he tends to go a little overboard, but when you see the scrapes he gets mixed up in, it's not surprising! Fires, explosions and extreme wind tend to have a negative effect on the efficiency of hair gel. Even SuperGel.
Although,someone really should tell him that I'm not glue. Hmmm…I have a cousin in School Supplies…last I heard, no one bought him. Doesn't Rubber Cement hold up to anything? Even five year olds? Or duct tape!!!! That fixes anything!! It says so. Right on the label.
Anyway, he jumped out the window — no, not a desperate, psychological cry for help. This was his (ugh) normal method of exiting. Why do I even put up with him? Oh, right. That whole barter system. He gives money in exchange for me and suddenly I'm expected to perform under any conditions. I distinctly remember some amendments being passed to eradicate this…
By now I was slightly used to his escapades, though. Spin- change into gaudy costume, applying me in the process (I will give him this, it's an interesting way to be applied) and then rush off to save the world. Or sometimes a cat caught in a tree. And you want to know the first thing those things grab onto? That's right. *The hair.*
Today, though…today was different. I didn't know it when we left (okay, I don't ever know anything when we leave), but today we were going to get into a scrape unlike any other. Today, we were going to…
Well, I'd better start at the beginning. As I said, he jumped out the window, giving me the customary scare as he wooshed down before he leisurely decided to go back up. Why does he do that? Why not just fly out? Though I guess this is better than those times when he does a swan dive, or a cannonball… Let me tell you, that's one way to make a pothole.
We flew for a long time as I fought to maintain hair stability against the amazing forces of the wind. Not that there was any real wind that day, just what Supey here created in his hurry.
The flight was longer than normal, but I barely noticed. Too busy doing my job, you see. Which is what he *should* have been doing. His job. In normal clothing. Even if it did mean having to forego the pleasure of my company that he gets when he indulges his obsessive compulsive need to save…all.
We ended up somewhere…south. I have absolutely *no* sense of direction, which isn't a problem as I never go anywhere without guaranteed transportation back.
Suddenly he dove into dark, murky water. Sigh. Water again? I understand that I haven't been officially tested against much of what he puts me through (fires, explosions, flying without an airplane…), but any idiot in his right mind knows what water does to gel!
Don't ask me *how* he knew, but when we reached the bottom of that never-ending, miserable water, we found a crocodile. A crocodile! Now, I can understand the urge to save kittens from trees — after all, kittens can be cute, even if they do have to grow up to be cats, and they have been known to catch some annoying mice. But a crocodile? What was he thinking! He puts me through the water torture again, and all for an under-achieving dinosaur.
Supester reached past the croc's belly, untangling its hind legs. Unfortunately, he didn't realize he put his head (and me! Don't forget about ME!) directly in harm's way.
It bit me! Er, him, but the effect was the same! Surprisingly, his head managed to withstand the impact, and I even noticed some cracking on the crocodile's teeth…
I will never let it be said I avoid my duties though. He came out of that water, crocodile bite and all, with his hair perfectly intact. Despite the fact that nowhere on my label does it say, "Sufficient against crocodile bites." You use emergency rooms for those, not hair gel.
You know, it would be easier on everybody if he could just be bald. Now, normally, I wouldn't advocate shaving one's head as it would put me out of a job, but in this case…I'd be willing to make the sacrifice. It would give him more dimensions. I can see it now: no longer is it Man of Steel, it's Cue ball of Steel. Quite catchy if you ask me.
Almost as catchy as "Superman: Termite Tamer!" But that's a whole 'nother hair-raising adventure.
ShivaSaavik would like to thank the wonderfully inspiring powers of chocolate and Bethy for tolerating her weird ideas.
Bethy would like to say that she loves ShivaSaavik's weird ideas and wishes she had gotten some of that chocolate…
The characters of Superman, Lois and Clark belong to Warner Bros and DC Comics. The Hair Gel belongs to us. ;-)
Thanks to all the readers who commented on Zoom's message boards and the listserv. We love you!
Comments and constructive criticism welcome at email@example.com and firstname.lastname@example.org