I need a name! A cool one!

“Sorry, Eric,” my friend said, shifting uneasily, “we were going to tell you, but we weren’t sure how.”
“Well, blowing a microwave up in my face wasn’t the best way.” I cocked a quizzical eyebrow.
“I was trying to zap HIM,” she said, glaring at her boyfriend, “I’m sick of his pro-Marvel spiel every five minutes. I don’t have good control over my powers yet, so it went kinda….wayward…”
“Wayward is a good word.” I said, chuckling.
“Hey, maybe the microwave like, radiated you and gave you powers too,” her boyfriend piped up.
“Doubtful,” I said. “I’d be feeling something if it did. You don’t get exposed to radiation and do a dance,” I then proceeded to dance a short jig, to a couple of small giggles.
As usual, exerting any physical movement in my friend’s dorm had made me profusely warm. I swear the women’s dorm must be full of cold blooded creatures to have to keep it so damn warm there. ^_~
I went to sit down on her bed, drinking one of her root beers. My other friend, who had been asleep, woke up and squirmed away from me.
“Dude, you are really frickin warm,” he said in disgust.
“Blame this damn dorm,” I said sourly, “or maybe it’s because of the electrical blast I was just exposed to.”
“Electrical blast? God damn it!” My other friend leaped out of the bed, his long hair flying wildly, “I told you two not to use your powers!” He proceeded to draw five knives from his sweatshirt and bury every single one of them in a narrow space between my friend and her boyfriend. He then stopped, turned a bright red, and looked at me.
“Aw shit…”
“Great, so you’re super accurate? Wonderful, am I the only person on this damn campus without super powers?”
“Well dude,” my friend’s boyfriend replied, “you are filthy stinking rich from your quiz shows.”
“Point,” I said, nodding, “add that with my excessive body heat and super smell, and I might just be the most lame hero in the world.”
“Ya know,” my female friend said, “you could just pull a Batman.”
“Elaborate.” I said, chewing on my favorite pen.
“You got so much damn money, why don’t you build gadgets and crap and follow us around? You’re the smart one too, you could be our ‘detective’ like Bats.”
“That’s a great idea!” I said, getting excited again. I could feel the heat radiating off of my fevered brow. And my hands, and my legs. “And I think I know what kind of ‘gadget’ to make.” I said with a grin.
“I guess I had been holding out on you guys too. You see, I had my pals at the government, for a nominal fee, make a little gadget for me. In fact, they said it should be here today.”
And it was.
“Here it is, guys. Be amazed at my awesome…what the crap?”
The box contained a black garment and thousands of tiny little metal pieces covered with sensors and other cool glowing thingies. I glanced at the side of the box.
“This side up…fragile…SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED? GAH!”
To avoid pulling my hair out, I stormed over to the telephone and called up my government “friends”
“Some assembly required you jackasses? What the hell did I pay you 500 mil for? Leave to the US do something this ridiculous. How the hell would I know how to set this thing up? Instructions in the box? This isn’t a freakin Lego set you sons of bitches! I…”
I turned around to look for those said directions and found it lying completed, folded nicely, on the floor. My friend Jade had a ridiculous grin on her face.
I hung up the phone. She was still smiling like a mad toad.
I walked over to her, my face deadpan.
“…super speed too?”
“yep!” Jade replied with a grin. It was done.
“Okay guys, here it is,” I said, stepping out of the bathroom of our dorm, “don’t laugh, I know it’s kinda goofy.”
It basically looks like a diving wetsuit, but with a thin metal inlay of cybernetic monitoring and extraction units. The thing weighs about seven pounds, give or take, and is really hot, which is the point. You see, the suit takes all the excess body heat I exude, and collects it as biothermal energy, which can then be released in a heat blast. A cybernetic headset accessory can also tap into my memory cortex and give me the ability to shape the fire to my will. After getting over the original horror of seeing my pudgy body in a tight, form fitting suit, my friend Logan began to laugh.
“That’s your fucking gadget? You look like a gay member of the Borg!”
I simply extended my left hand (the one with the heat blaster attachment on the ends of the fingers) and manipulating a pattern of fire to spell out, like a neon sign, FUCK YOU. This caused my other friend and her boyfriend to laugh hysterically, and even Logan got a chuckle out of it.
“Oh yeah, I remember you talking about that,” Jade said.
“Yeah, but tell me that’s not your whole costume. Eeew,” Spidon, her boyfriend joked.
“Nope. Because this thing feeds off my body heat and in turn keeps my body at a comfortable heat, I can wear heavy turtlenecks and trenchcoats all year long and not sweat a drop. All the heat is collected from me before I can start to sweat. So, if you’ll excuse me…”
I swept back into the bathroom and, two minutes later, emerged.
I was wearing black pants, a black belt with a silver buckle, a black turtleneck, and over it all a long black trenchcoat. To top it off, I placed a black fedora over my side-parted hair and topped off the whole package with a pair of circular wire frame black sunglasses.
“Wow. Bad-ass.” Logan whistled.
“Yeah, nice.” Jade said, “so what the hell do you call yourself?”
So, my readers, what the hell do I call myself?

One thought on “I need a name! A cool one!”

  1. Just a thought

    Just a thought so that we didn’t have to set this story in the future (which can always cause problems), you could design the suit and I could so assemble it in like a second. Up to you but it struck me as I read it last night that this might make future writings easier.

    TTFN,
    Carolyn

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