bush approval rating Brain Farts Brain Fart brain farts brain fart brain-fart brain-farts brainfart brainfarts LEO Louisville Eccentric Observer parody lampoon satire Louisville Kentucky Kevin Gibson kgramone@aol.com kgramone humor cat's ass fart anna kournikova zeitgeist bush approval rating
Brain Farts was a weekly humor column that ran in the Louisville Eccentric Observer from mid-2000 until the summer of 2002. It was, well, eccentric. And occasionally satirical. And sardonic. Some liked it, some hated it; some just didn't get it, and that's OK. There were times when I didn't get it either. I've compiled here some of the archives from Brain Farts for the enjoyment of friends, family and anyone else who happens by. I also have written some new Brain Farts, and added some links and other trivialities that you shouldn't be too concerned with.
Unless you're as bored as I am.
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Brain Farts: Pulp Hero, Episode 42 |
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By Kevin Gibson |
Jake
Credo breathed deeply but silently. A tiny orb of sweat staggered down his brow
and onto his cheek. He surrendered a wan smile.
He could hardly believe his luck — or his ill-fortune. There he stood on a
downtown street corner in the midst of mid-day hustle and bustle, going about
his mundane duty as an assistant public defender while hiding his alter-identity
as ace superhero Lightning Man. Was it irony that by night he stalked the vermin
that he defended during the day? Or poetic justice?
Either way, here he was, as Jake Credo, on a typical Metro City street on a
typical Metro City day, and Johnny Thrugg, one of Mob Boss Marino’s most
notorious toadies, was about to pull a job right in front of him. And Lightning
Man was nowhere to be found.
“You — you’ll be sorry,” said Leonard Pomp, a notorious Metro City businessman,
as he stared down the barrel of Thrugg’s revolver. “It won’t end here. You’ll be
sorry.”
Jake had to find a place where he could switch into his secret identity. He
couldn’t let Pomp die. Not that Pomp was squeaky clean. Oh, no. Indeed, the fact
that he did business with that vermin Marino made him dirty by association. But
it shouldn’t cost him his life.
Jake made his way through the horrified crowd and into a dank alley, where he
found a dumpster. He climbed inside, pulled the lid shut, and became Lightning
Man. He used his lightning speed to return to the scene.
That’s when things went strangely awry. A woman pointed. Someone laughed. A man
in a gray suit whispered to his friend. Lightning Man looked down at his
costume. It was no different than usual: blue tights with yellow boots, gloves,
cape and belt, and a big yellow lightning bolt emblazoned on his chest. A blue
mask concealed his true identity, thus preserving his value as an ace superhero.
“Mommy, why is that man dressed like a clown?” a little boy said.
Chuckles grew to guffaws. Snickers became cackles. Suddenly the entire street
corner erupted in a cacophony of laughter. Leonard Pomp laughed. So did Johnny
Thrugg.
Perfect, Lightning Man thought. Thrugg was off his guard. But just as Lightning
Man was about to strike, a police officer burst through the crowd.
“Here now,” he scolded Lightning Man. “Go on, all dressed like that again. Ya
look like some kinda cartoon freak show or something. I’m telling ya, if you
come out like this again, I’m gonna have ya put away somewhere. It just ain’t
decent.”
Thrugg sneaked away. Pomp wiped his brow and hustled on, and the crowd
dispersed. People whispered and pointed at Lightning Man as they departed. “That
guy must have problems,” one woman said.
But Lightning Man folded his arms across his chest and smiled. Another crime had
been halted. Another life had been saved. Metro City was safe for another day.
Contact the writer at kgramone@aol.com.
Ask him about his super hero fantasies.