Editorial Note: I realize that it is nowhere near Valentine’s Day; in fact, in the States we have just passed Labor Day. But due to circumstances beyond my control, here’s an adventure from the early years of Captain Happily Married, in lieu of the regular column. Enjoy!
Every person in Edison City liked Valentine’s Day a lot, but the Malevolent Med-Student, who lived in his secret lair underneath an abandoned pharmacy, did not. Of course, being the cleverest doctorate-deprived supervillain in the city, he chose not to alleviate his irritation over Valentine’s Day by launching into an internal rhyming monologue about precisely why he hated the holiday. Instead, he decided to act. “Candystriper!” he bellowed. “To the Malpracticycle!”
“But, Mal-Meddie,” Candystriper dithered, “I haven’t finishing finding myself yet.”
“What?”
“I’ve decided to go on a journey of exploration to find my inner self,” the henchwoman said dreamily.
“You’re right over there. And in two seconds you’ll be in the Side-effect-Car in the Malpracticycle, or I may be forced to find another assistant!”
“Sigh,” Candystriper sighed. “Fine. Let’s go do your thing.”
“It’s not a thing, it’s a brilliant villainous scheme! I’m going to destroy Valentine’s Day!”
“And just how exactly are you going to do that? Steal everyone’s little candy hearts? That would kinda be impressive, actually…”
“No, my sanity-deprived minion,” the Malevolent Med-Student growled, “I’m going to do something much worse. Something they’ll never see coming. Candystriper, what is the most unromantic thing you can think of?”
“Ummmmmm….” Candystriper’s nose crinkled up in concentration. “Barrels?”
“No, of course, not, that’s….” the Malevolent Med-Student’s voice trailed away. “That’s…..surprisingly brilliant.”
“I have my moments, Mal-Meddie. I do have my moments.”
“Quickly,” the Malevolent Med-Student bellowed again, unaware or uncaring that he was repeating himself, “to the Malpracticycle!”
Tim had thought of everything. He had gone to great expense to get reservations at the most romantic restaurant in town, French menus, obsequious waiters, the whole bit, and on Valentine’s Day, no less. He’d stealthily signaled to the restaurant musicians to start playing the song, the special one that he and Chloe liked so much because it was emblematic of their relationship.
He’d gotten down on one knee per tradition, he’d brought out the little blue box, she’d made a very excited gasp, and he was just about to pop the question when a flour barrel smashed clean through the restaurant window and laid Tim out flat. Chloe shrieked in terror, even more so when twin red lights blazed into being on the side of the barrel, and a snarly growl reverberated from it, and she realized that those weren’t lights, those were eyes….whereupon Chloe whipped out her pepper spray and maced the barrel full-on.
Commendable as her self-defense measure was, macing a sentient barrel is not nearly as successful as one might expect. The barrel merely launched itself at her head, beaned her in one swift stroke, and then caromed in chaotic flight around the restaurant like the world’s biggest and barreliest billiard ball. It was even worse elsewhere in the city as a storm of barrels plummeted madly from the sky, striking down romantically-inclined people left and right.
The Malevolent Med-Student watched from his Malpracticycle on the highest floor of a conveniently located parking garage and laughed wildly. “Beautiful!” he exclaimed to Candystriper.
“Yeah, um…..” Candystriper said hesitantly, “you think maybe you’ve missed the real reason of Valentine’s Day? Like, maybe it doesn’t just mean a cheesy Hallmark card from a store? Maybe it means just a little bit more?”
“What unlicensed medications are you taking?” the Malevolent Med-Student snapped. “I’m hitting people over the heads with barrels! I’m not listening to hear if they’re singing, or if they care about the true meaning of Valentine’s Day! I’m knocking them unconscious! And when and if they wake up, they’ll all have to go to the hospital, and soon the hospitals will be overcrowded with barrel injuries, and so they’ll have nowhere else to go, and then they’ll go to me! Ahahahaha!”
“Great Valentine’s Day Massacre!” a new voice exclaimed in horror. “Is there no end to your villainy?”
The Malevolent Med-Student whirled around, and there, standing in his usual dramatic way, was Captain Happily Married. The Malevolent Med-Student smiled. “Ah, Captain. I assumed you’d show up. And that’s why I brought this!” he produced a tiny remote and brandished it defiantly. “Every barrel in this city is wired to explode, and if you make one move, I’ll set them off!”
Candystriper, who’d been looking up into the sky in search of a robin, suddenly noticed a soccer ball arcing lazily through the air. She traced its path, and realized it was heading right for the Malevolent Med-Student’s hand. Candystriper produced a vuvuzela from her backpack (why she’d been carrying a vuvuzela in a backpack God only knows) and gave a fierce blast. The strident sound wave deflected the soccer ball away, and the Malevolent Med-Student laughed aloud. “You see? I’ve considered everything! I’ve worked out every possible way you and Super Soccer Mom could try to defeat me, and I’ve prepared for them all! I am-”
“NO!” Candystriper exclaimed in horror. “DON’T SAY IT!”
“I am invincible!”
The second he said those thrice-jinxed words, several things happened all at once. Candystriper facepalmed. Captain Happily Married threw himself aside. And there, standing placidly behind him, was an adorable little three-year-old girl adorably sucking her thumb, adorably clad in an adorable red and yellow set of footie pajamas that had an adorable tiny mushroom cloud on it….the Malevolent Med-Student’s brain had just processed the disconnect between the word adorable and mushroom cloud when the girl took her thumb out of her mouth and suddenly her eyes blazed yellow and the remote atomized in his hand, and then he was hurtling into the stratosphere with a thunderous explosion ringing in his ears.
“Um.” Candystriper said, staring at the crater where her not-so-invincible leader had been seconds before. “Hi there! What’s your name?” she said in that saccharine tone people reserve for small children. “Aren’t you the cutest widdle superheroine EVER?”
“Actually, pace popular understanding, I find cuteness to be an artificial social construct emphasizing neoteny as an attempt to elicit otherwise non-forthcoming sympathetic impulses vis-a-vis oneself.”
“…wha?”
The little girl sighed. “In the phraseology of my particular developmental-level, bad guy go boom. You not bad guy, you minion, so I let you go. Okay? Bye.”
“Right. Bye.” Candystriper fled, and Meg Atomic, precocious daughter of Captain Happily Married and Super Soccer Mom, waved in farewell. Then she turned to her mother, who had just come up behind her. “Mother? As I have not yet mastered the art of using the facilities, I fear an unfortunate circumstance has occurred which requires immediate attention!”
Super Soccer Mom sighed. “Right, darling. Of course.”
And so the world was saved once again.
If you’d like to submit questions to be answered by Captain Happily Married, leave a comment or email with your question! To read a story featuring further adventures of the Captain and Co., go here. For more adventures of the superheroes and regulars in Edison City, subscribe below!