Stranger in the Work Place

He drove to work and parked his forest green Nissan Micra in his usual place. He typed. He drank tea. He walked around the office to stretch his legs. Joe was the personification of the phrase “any old average Joe.” Apart from the fact that he was a lame weirdo, who never talked to anyone, even if they talked to him first. The only response you would get was a creepy slimy look that would cause people to never talk to him again. But he liked it that way. He liked the fact that nobody would come near him. He enjoyed the fact that they spoke about him in the coffee room, wondering what it was that made him tick. His greasy exterior even sent chills down necks, and as he would plod his way through the clean crisp air and turn it rancid people would stare at him and often think “oh dear GOD!”. But it never phased him. Not once did he think to shower or even to give the appearance that he had tried to clean himself. He fed off their mortified looks as his stench would hit their nostrils.

He drove home using the same route every night at five. He parked his car in front of his house just like he did every night and he turned on the light in his front room. He sat and ate his mundane dinner of beans and toast while watching a horrifically average episode of Emmerdale. Beans dropped down his front leaving a trail of tangy orange sauce behind them.

He left his plate on the sofa and peeled his fat behind from the cushioned seat. He made his way up the stairs and into his bedroom, the negative energy from the work day still fresh in his mind; the looks he got were imprinted hard in his memory…

He opened his wardrobe to reveal strobe lighting and a red Lycra suit, bright blue glistening leather boots and a miraculous scarlet cape. He giggled like a child and thought about all those faces looking at him with disgust and turned to the right to see his reflection in the mirror and broke out into a hysterical laughter. He grabbed his black mask and placed it upon his face, still sniggering. And began to scream, “I AM PROFESSOR ELECTRON! BOW DOWN TO MY NEGATIVE ENERGY, AS I STUN YOU WITH MY BODY ODOUR AND DESTROY YOUR SENSES WITH MY GREASE!”

He began to dance and scream and he switched the strobe lighting on and off and lunged around the room with a beautiful grace. What a freak, what a strange creature. He stretched his calves and hamstrings and took three steps back. Then, like a bolt of lighting he flung himself out of his bedroom window yelling “Germs a-hoy!” and landed surprisingly on his feet! He looked from left to right and saw that the coast was clear and set off into the night to badger forgotten cats and alienated dogs, so that one day they could be his minions.

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