Note: This is dedicated to a friend who is deploying to the Middle East this week.
“Oh, please someone help my Mr. Bigglesworth!” cried Mrs. Markowitz. Mr. Bigglesworth was meowing forlornly from his tree limb as he was too scared to jump down from such a height but was quite ready for his dinner. Suddenly he was scooped up in a flash of motion and placed safely in Mrs. Markowitz's arms.
“Oh thank you,” she exclaimed to the young man who was standing before her who looked rather pleased with himself. “How can I ever repay you?”
“You don't owe me a thing, ma'am. Its my job,” he said. “Afterall, I'm a superhero.” He put his hands on his hips so that the emblem on his chest would be prominently displayed and grinned widely making his teeth glint in the sunlight.
“You are?” Mrs. Markowitz eyed him skeptically.
“Yeah.” His posture sagged. “Can't you tell? I'm wearing my underwear outside of my pants.”
“Oh, I thought that was a fashion statement.”
“No! It's the superhero uniform. Also, I have my superhero initials on my chest.”
“MF? What does that stand for? Mighty Flash? Master Force?”
“That's not a very good superhero name. Why do you call yourself that?”
“Because its my name.”
“Oh. Well thanks, I guess...”
“Hark! Another kitty cat is in trouble,” he declared and flew off once again.
“What a weird, wonderful guy,” Mrs. Markowitz said. Mr. Bigglesworth meowed in agreement and they went inside for dinner.