It's Hard Work Being a Super-Hero

It's hard work being a super-hero you know? People think it's great that you can fly, you can see through things, you can stop speeding bullets, all that palaver. But, I'm telling you, it's hard work. Sometimes, I just want to take off my super-suit, let my kebab-fattened belly flop over my belt and watch Extreme Makeover on the telly with a ciggy in one hand and a can of Stella in the other. But no, that bloody phone keeps ringing. That was a mistake. The Mayor pleaded with me, "Please Mr X-Ray, put a phone in so we can call you when we need to. We can call it the X-Phone!". X-Phone indeed. It's a normal phone with a bloody great X crayoned onto it. It's nothing special you know. It's got no kind of special 'phone' powers. They did want to shine a big X into the sky until I pointed out that it had already been done. Mind you, I do get an extra stipend from the Mayor's office for being 'on-call' all the time. They don't half get their money's worth though.

I just wish they'd take some initiative once in a while. Take last week for example. Mrs Maypole, from Hanover Street, grumpy old woman, rings in because her tabby had got stuck up the tree. I mean, is that really an effective use of my powers? No, it isn't. The miserable bat didn't even offer me a cup of tea or anything. All she did was moan about how long it took me to get there. 10 seconds from call to location is not bad by anyone's standard. I'd like to see a fire engine do that. When I presented her with my bill, she just looked at me incredulously and walked away! How rude is that? Doesn't she realise I've got to put food on the table. Ever since The Mayor made me sign that stupid piece of paper that forbade me from using my powers for nefarious means, means I have to take whatever work I can get. I wished I could have used my Xtra-strong X-Ray beam to reduce her to a pile of smoldering ash but I don't need that kind of exposure. Not again anyway.

I seem to be doing more and more supermarket gigs nowadays. You know the kind. You fly down amongst the gathered throng, tell a few jokes, use your X-Ray beam to cut the ribbon and said supermarket is now open for business. I get a monkey for that. I don't mean an actual monkey, I mean I get 500 quid. Plus any extras from selling Mr X-Ray t-shirts and dolls I keep myself. Which is nice. I got a load of Mr X-Ray merchandise from the wholesalers so I flog it at any opportunity. It keeps me in beer money anyway.

There are some benefits to being a super-hero though. I can usually get a seat at a restaurant pretty quickly. And the women! You know how they always say that a woman likes a man in uniform? Well, show 'em the X-Ray suit and they're like putty in my hands. Of course, sometimes I get a bit excited, my X-Ray beam goes off accidentally and they do end up as ACTUAL putty in my hands. I've still not lived that one down at the pub. Holidays are ok. I can fly to Benidorm in about 3 minutes with a good tail wind but them bloody Easy Jets keep getting in me way. Like big orange cigars in the sky they are. Orange plays havoc with my sinuses. Did I mention? I can smell colours too. Yup, I know what black, blue and green all smell like. I can smell the difference between Royal Blue and Sky Blue. Don't ask me why, I don't know. I just ticked the box at the Super-School. It's bloody irritating. Especially orange. That really gets up my nose.

The X-Ray vision thing is not all it's cracked up to be either. If someone asks, "What do my insides look like?" or some other X-Ray related pun once more, I'll scream. It's not funny anymore and all insides look the same anyway. Plus, YOU try and walk around with X-Ray vision all the time. Do you know what it's like not being able to see the OUTSIDE of anything? Bloody frustrating I can tell you.

Also, I'm fed up of flying everywhere. It takes a lot out of me that. You have to concentrate really hard before you get any kind of liftage and I just can't be bothered sometimes. Once, I was flying over the beach or at least I thought it was the beach. Except, I must have got my bearings mixed up, because it was the south-bay nudist colony. Next thing I know, they're pulling me out of the water, all spluttery and wet. Apparently, an eye-witness said he'd seen me streaking across the sky, I'd looked down, and then WHUMP, straight in the water. When I say streaking, I don't mean I was flying at 600 mph with my todger out, I mean I was travelling at a fast rate of knots. If so much as a bluebottle crashes into the old man at 600 mph, it don't half bring a tear to your eye, super hero or not. Believe me, I know.

What's even more annoying is when you're flying behind a plane, you do the mirror-signal-maneuver thing and as you're overtaking, some snotty kid is pulling a face at you from behind those little oval windows. The number of times I've nearly gone tumbling because of that. I remember a time when youngsters use to point in wonderment and I could hear them say "Dad, look, it's Mr X-Ray man, oh wow" (Super-Hearing remember!). Now, it's more like "God, look at the flying fat pleb. I didn't know Whale-boy was back in town". Cheeky so and so's. You try and keep your weight down with a Super appetite.

I think my current state of melancholy came about ever since they introduced new rules for super-hero's in X-Ray City. In case you're wondering, I made them rename the city after yours truly. I still have a chuckle about that one. They'd pulled together this big ceremony to give me the key to the city. I'd saved a burning warehouse or something. I can't quite remember. Anyway, they presented me with the key and I just said, "Name the city X-Ray City or I'll blow it up". At first they thought I was joking, but when I fried the Mayor's deputy, they knew I was serious. That's when they made me sign that piece of paper. Can't they take a joke or what? So, after every job, I have to fill in all these bloody forms that contain some of the daftest questions you've ever heard. "Did you fly to the emergency destination?". "Did you use any super-powers to necessitate the capture of criminals?". Well, duh. They put that in after criminals were complaining about being mistreated. Just because I dropped one of them in the river by accident and he sued the city for millions, I get the blame. If he hadn't been nicking hub caps in the first place, I wouldn't have picked him up and dropped him would I? What is the world coming to? I've also got to promise NOT to: steal beer trucks (or any truck for that matter), fly so fast the world goes back in time (Superman ruined that one for me), vaporize any innocent civilians (harder than it sounds) and finally, I'm not allowed to go to the dog track. That's more because of the amount of money I owe rather than any advantage I may have from super-powers.

Sometimes, I think, were all those years at super-school really worth it? They con you there you know. They say you can change your powers at least 3 times, but you can't. Once you tick the boxes, that's it, you're stuck with them. I mean, when you're twelve years old, X-Ray vision sounds fantastic doesn't it? What do you mean I can fly? I'll have that. Oh yeah, that's when I chose the whole colour-smell thing. What a mistake THAT was. Always choose invisibility. Always, always. Anyway, 6 years I spent there and I was in the same class as Batman. Do you know where he got all his money from? Toilet Urinal Cakes, that's where. You don't read that in the comics do you? Billions he made from them, billions I tell you. Also, he only chose the Bat-motif because he fancied a girl who was into them at school. He's scared of them in real life. Yup, you heard me, Batman is scared of bats. Can't go near em without chucking up his dinner. And, do you know who that girl turned into? Stretch Armstrong.

I'm thinking of hanging up my gold-lame boots once and for all. Kids just don't want to see super-heroes any more. They'd rather watch MTV and rap to a Snoopy Dog video or something. My biggest mistake was getting rid of all the Super-enemies within my first year. Well, I was trying to make a good impression wasn't I? If I'd have known, I'd have let a couple go just to keep me entertained. Some of them were even a bit of a laugh. Old Johnny Two-Heads couldn't half knock back the drink. He could drink a pint of carlsberg with one head and a pina colada with the other. I laughed so hard, I sank a boat. But the city made me get rid of him, just because he wanted to take over the world or something. That's what happens when you have two heads - your ego gets the better of you. Just look at Zaphod Beeblebrox.

Anyway, the damn phone's ringing again. It's probably just another cat but I'd better go and investigate. Don't forget, if you're on a plane and you see me flying past, please resist the urge to pull a funny face at me. I might just vaporize you.