“A lick and a promise.  That’s how I left her, there on the street.”

He didn’t see, when he walked away, that she quietly slipped her hand into her bag and extracted a tissue, with which she wiped his saliva off her face.

“That’s how I seal all my promises.  With a lick.  What superhero doesn’t?  With a lick and a promise, I save your day!  That’s my motto.”

He doesn’t actually  know what ‘a lick and a promise’ means, so,  like the moron he is, he runs around shouting it aloud and promising whole-heartedly to do a really superficial job.

“Oh that woman.  What a fine specimen of the female side of all things.  What a predicament!  The worst I’d seen yet!  Such need, such need!  It was the very essence of serendipity that I passed by right as she was rummaging frantically through her purse muttering sweet, sapid obscenities and the words were like Triple Grade A maple syrup pouring from her perfect lips…”

***

“Goddamn it! &**^%#*&^@$!”  Shuffle, shuffle went her purse, a little lovely mustard yellow thing with muted brass clasps.  The type of purse a woman of substance has.  “Damn it where IS it!”

Swoosh!

“Today is your lucky day!  I am Captain Ataraxia!  I will bring you the meaning of my name or die trying!”

“Huh?”

 “I see you are in distress!  Whatever is the matter my fair lady!”

“Can you stop yelling?  I’m right here.”

“I’m not yelling!  I’m speaking with substance and confidence, which is necessary to inspire you to hopefulness!  Merely superhero praxis my dear!”

“You’re hurting my ears and people are staring, and stop swishing that cape, it’s making me cold.”

“Ah….yes…well, aghem…sorry…so, what is upsetting you my young flower?”

She was shuffling in her purse again, her arm somehow buried up to her elbow.  “I’ve gone and lost my contraband.”

“Contra band eh?  I didn’t know guerrillas made music!”

“Huh?”

“Well I suppose they’d be as good at it as anyone, between all that shooting, killing and being general pains in the necks!”

 “Are you going to start making sense any time soon…because I really have to go find my contraband.”

“Oh no, my sweet, sultry woman!  This is too dirty a job for the likes of you!  I will find your contra band!”

“You don’t have to bother.  You won’t succeed.”

“Blasphemy!  Do not utter this superhero sacrilege! ….   How do you know that?”

“I’m mantic.  Haven’t you heard of me?  I’m Mantic Rey, the prophetic super villain.”

“How interesting!  I’m manic too!  That’s why my doctor gave me my ataraxia inducing semilunar halva chips.”

“Not manic…mantic…oh, never mind.  I have to find my contraband.”

“Never fear madam!  I will find your contra band!  Which way did they go?”

“They?  It’s not a 'they'…it’s a nuclear warhead.  I will deliver it to my husband, Reproducto.  When I get there, late apparently, according to my powers of divination, he will make millions of copies, thus creating a zeitgeist of fear and destruction!”

But Captain Ataraxia had already licked her and started off down the street running and tripping over his cape.

“Now, where shall I go about finding a Guerrilla band named the Nuclear Warheads…?  I will simply start with my brilliant plan of running around aimlessly until I come across some sort of clue…what’s that I hear?  Music!  Music comes from bands!  Excuse me…is this guerilla music?”

“No, it’s contra music.”

“Contra music!  This is surely the lost band I’m looking for!  Are they called The Nuclear Warheads?”

But he was already rushing toward the band when the man opened his mouth to answer.

***

“Miss!  Stop, Miss!  I found your contra band!”

“No you didn’t, I already found it.”

“That can’t be!  I have your band right here!  They play contra music!”

“I told you, I didn’t lose a band, I lost a nuclear warhead, and I’ve found it now.  It was in my purse this whole time, damn bottomless purse I can never find anything in….by the way, you’re about to get sued.”

“Sued?  Superheroes don’t get sued!  Why ever would I get sued!”

“Well, for that tied up, bound and gagged group of men you have tethered to the lamp post there.  You’d better return them before you end up in jail as well.”

But Captain Ataraxia was already off running down the street, with a pile of tied up, bound and gagged men thrown over his shoulder, and tripping over his cape.