He usually had Wednesdays off.
It seemed odd that a super villain took a day off. Incongruous. Super villains should have a better work ethic than that. They shouldn’t have the weekends off, let alone every Wednesday. And it left her at a bit of a loss.
They’d been battling across the city for days now, and all of a sudden, nothing. He wasn’t even answering his texts.
She contemplated just showing up at his secret lair, and starting the battle up again, before deciding against it. If she just knocked on the door of his secret lair, it would raise too many questions, not least how she knew the whereabouts of his secret lair.
It had been pretty easy to locate actually.
He liked milk.
He was too lazy to go out and get his own.
She followed the milkman.
Come to think of it, a super villain worth any kind of salt wouldn’t get his milk delivered, he’d siphon it off from the plant and hold the city to ransom. Think how many businesses would collapse under the lack of a skinny latte.
She checked her phone again. None of the hero team were responding either. She supposed they were having the day off too. She never knew what to do when there was nothing to do. Her costumes were all washed, her boots were shined, and she’d changed the oil in the invisible helicopter (which is a job that’s much harder than it sounds).
Looking out of the window, she could see the cleaners were taking advantage of the lull in the action. A crew was removing the tank from the spire of the church, another was picking up the remains of the speed boat from the bread factory, and several teams were dealing with all of The Beasts’ droppings.
Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it up, swiping the screen at the same time.
“Your glasses are ready.”
Her secret identity relied on those spectacles of course, but she couldn’t be arsed to pick them up now. Which meant hanging around the penthouse until some superheroing needed doing.
There wasn’t even anything decent on Netflix.
Just a load of superhero shows and movies. And none of those accurately portrayed the life of a superhero. Like, what if Tony Stark needed a poo? Could he do it in his suit?
She sent another message, without hope of seeing a reply.
With a sigh, she sat down at the supercomputer and Googled herself.