XStcher0418

With the condiment wasting children defeated, The “Waster” off licking his wounds like a defeated arch-enemy, I turned my attentions to the internet. Hundreds of thousands of contentless pages, blatant lies, and half truths. This is the world I turned to, to mold the idiotic masses with my superheroic hand. I made it my duty to use the free web space given to me by the great America Online to tell the world that condiment wasting is evil, and if they continue to do it I’ll soon be there to whomp them one.

I sank into my fake leather chair, rested my hand upon the mouse, and typed in the latest news of my adventures. I typed in epic detail how I effortlessly smacked the sense back into the children of Overland Park. And how grand my school visits were to remind the children that hoarding, wasting, and improper use of condiments is wrong and shall be punished to the fullest.

I was in the process of uploading a picture of the wonderful condiment mayonnaise, when an Instant Message appeared on my screen.

“XStcher0418: Why hello, Condiment Man. How is your condiment crusade?”

I was taken aback. This name, XStcher0418, it sounds so familiar. I stared at the name for a minute or two, deep in thought, when it hit me.

Just after Adam became my sidekick, we searched the internet, looking for a butler for the Condiment Cave. While web pages loaded, Adam and I would enter the chat room Fiber and Needle art, and enlighten the occupants by saying “DO NOT WASTE CONDIMENTS!!! It is wrong!!” I admit, we didn’t quite have the finesse as today, but we got the message across. The message upset the potential condiment wasters who would complain they wanted to talk about knitting, and XStcher was one of them. She sent us an Instant Message when we talked condiments in the room, telling us to stop.

“Condiment Man: hello X, it goes well, i just finished an assembly at the local elementary school, the kids will never waste condiments again”

I waited a bit, then the reply:

“XStcher0418: Those poor children. You probably burst into their math class to scream about ketchup, just like all those nights years ago where I wanted to talk about needle art, and you drove the room insane!”

“Condiment Man: im sorry you feel that way, but the internet dwellers must know proper condiment form, everyone must know the rules of condiment usage”

The reply came quicker:

“XStcher0418: I have to sign off, but I will be in your town, Overland Park. I will be seeing you, and we will discuss this further…”

A second later, she had signed off.

I finished updating the website, adding the most recent news, that someone from the internet was going to visit me. I saved everything, and signed off.

A few weeks went by, and I found myself at KenTacoHut. A busier place now that the McDougles had vanished into nothingness, but it made it easier to watch potential condiment wasters. I was standing by the trash can, checking the trays before they were thrown away. Most looked clean, a few I had to send back to their tables. While I watched one walk back, I saw a man’s hand go up.

I walked over to him, “Yes sir? You have a question?”

“Excuse me Condiment Man, but I have just this one little fry left, but I’m all out of ketchup. I scraped every last bit off the tray with the last fry. Do I open another packet, or should I eat this fry without any ketchup?”

“You should share with a neighbor, or if you have none, you should do my personal favorite, and open another packet, put it on the fry, and suck the remaining ketchup out of the packet.”

The man popped the fry in his mouth, tore open a ketchup packet, and sucked it dry. His jaw quivered a bit as he swallowed, then he smiled at me. I smiled back, and walked back to my post.

When I arrived, I could barely turn to face the tables when I had to snag a flying Honey BBQ packet out of the air. I looked from where it came, and saw an exit door closing.

I jumped out the door, and standing triumphantly, yet out of breath, in the middle of the drive thru lane was an elderly woman dressed in clothing too tight to be worn by a woman her age. Sewn onto her shirt was a large green “X”, and where it crossed was written Stcher0418.

“You,” I said.

“Well, if it isn’t the great Condiment Man, dispensing condiments and annoying the heck out of everyone around you!” said XStcher0418.

“I was doing no such thing. You, and everyone else in that chat room needed to be enlightened on proper condiment usage.”

“That chat room was a place for people to discuss fiber and needle art! Not your condiment obsession. There were other rooms where you could have done that! Ever since that first time you opened your mouth in Fiber and Needle Art, I have wanted to get back at you, and the time is now.”

“And I see my punishment is I hafta see an old women in spandex. Well, I’ve seen you, now please move along back to your internet, I have work to be doing.” I turned, and casually walked back inside the KenTacoHut.

“No! Your punishment-” she screamed as the door closed behind me.

I resumed my position by the trashcans, and again watched the crowd as they ate their lunches.

A man in his early 30’s walked up, tray in hand, with a half packet’s worth of unused ketchup smeared across his tray.

“Sir,” I said sternly, “this is the third time you’ve come up here. You still have that same ketchup spot as from the last times you tried to throw it away. Now take it back to your table, and eat it. If I see you trying to waste condiments again, I will have to take you down.”

Sadness filled the man’s face as he looked down at his tray. He slowly turned, and fumbled his way back to his chair.

“One day these condiment wasters will learn,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Sir, you can’t harass our customers like that,” said a man in a KFC hat. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I jabbed my finger into his chest, “are you aware you are interfering with superhero business here?” Nudging him back a bit, “Do you want these heathens wasting the world’s precious condiments? Are you aware of the condiment shortage that is going on, because people like you stood in my way when I tried to stop disgusting condiment wasters like them!” My arm jumped from pointing at the KFC employee to a mom eating a taco with her daughter. The little girl stopped smearing Border Sauce on her tray, and began to cry. Her mom quickly scraped the sauce onto her taco, and tried to comfort her condiment wasting child.

“What? No, I don’t want them-”

“Well neither do I! We agree then. Here,” I pulled some BBQ from my belt, “take some of these. So you let me do my job, and I’ll let you do yours. Now you’ve got a line, you help your customers, and I’ll help you by keeping the condiment wasters in line.”

The man stared blankly at me, unable to move. He glanced over his shoulder at the eight person line, and sighed. He mustered what strength he had left within, and turned back toward me, “I’ll deal with you later.” He scurried off to help his employees, and I was again able to deal with wasters all around me.

The man with the ketchup smear pushed his chair back, and looked toward me. My condiment sense went off. Just a tingle, but close by. I started marching toward the man, when I realized he had cleaned his tray. I stood straighter, peering around the eating area. It was coming from outside!

I dashed for the door, hitting it so hard it nearly shattered against the wall. Standing right where I left her was XStcher0418, under her right foot was a crushed Honey Mustard, its sauce splattered across the pavement.

“You do realize you have just gone too far.”

“Ahh, you like that? Want me to crush another? I have more.”

“Give me the Honey Mustard, and you may just leave here without a Condiment Kick to the head.”

“Hold your horses, you impatient brat. Before I punish you for disrupting my chat, I have something to show you.” She stepped to the side, and behind her stood an old friend.

“Condiment Cow!” I screamed.

“No, Cyber Kow. I was going to tell you before, but you stupid kids can’t sit still for ten minutes. Back in my day, if an adult told us to stay somewhere, we did it! And if we didn’t we got whupped. Which is what I’m going to do to you!”

I looked down at my former sidekick, he used to be so furry, and so happy. Now he was covered in big black stitches to hold his skin together. He had patches of welded steel covering his back and face. Most horrific was his eye. One was removed, in its place some sort of laser beam, which was focused on my knee.

“What did you do to him?”

“She resurrected me,” Cyber Kow mooed in a robotic voice. “When I laid there on the pavement, with my cotton insides seeping from my broken skin, you left. A bit later I was rescued by XStcher. She stitched me together, and her eight year old grandson Billy fused me with computer circuitry. I am now my own superhero, and I will begin my career by ending yours.”

“Billy also installed AOL 9.0 for Broadband,” said XStcher0418. “Cyber Kow here is able to IM his buddies at any time!”

“Right now I’m talking with a guy in Leawood who thinks you suck,” mooed the cow.

“He’s a condiment waster. Tell him if he doesn’t stop his wasting ways my next stop will be Leawood.” I walked toward my chat room nemesis. “Getting back to why we were initially brought together this fine day, you have wasted a condiment. It is time for your punishment.”

“No! We’re here because you couldn’t leave a chat room alone for ten seconds! I’m going to teach you whipper snappers what is what!”

“The day of Cyber Kow is now,” robotically mooed Cyber Kow, obviously mad.

The fight began with the three of us circling, with the wasted condiment splattered on the pavement between us. We rotated for a good minute, until I charged at XStcher.

Two steps, counter-clockwise spin, leg up, connecting with the thigh.

Her leg gave out, and she fell to her right.

I landed with my back to Cyber Kow. Pain in my back. The skin between my shoulder blades burns as the force of the hit knocks me to the ground. I catch myself before my body hits the ground. I think I scraped my hands. I look, and stare for a second at the indentation the cement left in my hand. Bits of skin cling to my palm, while blood climbs out from the tiny holes in my skin.

My back felt tight, but I flipped onto my back to see what had happened. Cyber Kow’s laser was trained at my forehead. The light in his eye grew brighter, and I knew he shot me in the back with some laser pulse, and he was trying to smack me again in the face.

Instincts took over. I was rolling, on my feet, in the air, and coming down on my old sidekick with an outstretched leg.

He jerked his head back, and there was a red flash.

For a split second I saw it coming for me, then I felt it tearing into my right shoulder. It flew back, making my arm flail about uselessly. With concentration on the attack dissolved, I fell to the ground, landing off balance. I took a step backward to try to steady myself, and was entangled in something made of yarn.

It was mostly black, with a few yellow strands, and wrapped itself around my upper body. It was like a scarf gone horribly wrong.

“You could not handle the power of the undead, and the near dead!” XStcher0481 laughed, “Oh, how nice it will be to go into Fiber and Needle Art, and I’ll be able to talk about knitting and basket weaving and pillow sewing once again.”

I spun in the net, XStcher was a few feet in front of me, eyes closed with a huge grin. She held both sides of the net/scarf, the center now going over my back.

“Goodbye X” I muttered. My leg shot forward, connecting with her hip.

A loud crack came from her leg, then XStcher fell to the ground. “No! Not my hip again. I was so close. Cyber Kow! Avenge my death!” She made some sort of raspy noise, then stopped moving.

I faced my old sidekick, looking down at the mess of circuitry that used to be fur and cotton. I pushed the scarf mess from my shoulders. It drifted down my cape, until it rested behind my shoes. At this moment I was filled with something, some great feeling; as if this moment was destined to occur. One final showdown with my old sidekick. Who would be the hero of Overland Park, Condiment Man, or Cyber Kow?

I clenched my fists, and for the first time, my hands were sweaty. There was a bit of fear growing inside me. A bit of regret as well. He wanted to become his own hero, I should have let him, instead I killed him. That might have been a bit harsh. He did have that sidekick Pepsi attack me though. He turned me in to Ronaldo too! What the heck was that all about? People don’t just do that to one another.

“I hope XStcher got the replacement plan, because I’m going to break every single piece of metal inside you. I am the superhero of this city, and I’m not going to let a cow with an ego and a fan base try to take that away from me without a fight.”

“I am your superior in every way. Call an ambulance now, you won’t be able to press the buttons once I’m done with you,” mooed Cyber Kow.

Hoonk! Hooooonk!

I looked to my right, an SUV reved its engine, then honked again. The woman driving peered angrily over the steering wheel at me with a piece of chicken clenched between her teeth.

The KFC manager stuck his head out of the drive thru window, then disappeared back inside the building. A second later he flew out the door, his teeth gnashed together and eyes ablaze.

“Get outa my drive thru lane!”

“This is superhero business sir, go back inside, please. This’ll be all over soon,” I explained.

“Yeah? You’re superhero’s? Well I’m a superhero too! KFC Manager, an’ I say get outa my drive thru lane before I use my super powers on you guys!”

I squinted, looking him over, “You have super powers?”

“I can call the cops really freakin’ fast! If you two don’t move, I’ll show it to ya.”

“We’re superhero’s sir,” said Cyber Kow, “we’re above the law.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that ya little freak!” He turned and stomped back inside the restaurant, muttering about showing us his super powers.

“Scrape this dead lady off the road when you’re done!” I called after him.

The KFC manager stopped dead, and peered back. He looked at the old woman laying motionless in the grass just out of the drive thru lane, then sped inside.

“I can scrape myself off the road, thank you very much,” moaned XStcher0418. “I’m not lazy like you kids, always sittin’ around when there’s work to be done.”

I walked toward the old woman, “I’ll show you fighting.” I turned to my former sidekick, “What are you waiting for?”

The laser was trained on my chest, and Cyber Kow was walking slowly toward me, his front right leg clanking when it hit the ground. I jumped to the right, onto the SUV’s hood, then again onto its roof.

Cyber Kow followed by jumping at the car’s hood.

Halfway through his jump, I jumped at him, kicking him square in the face. He flew back, spinning through the air.

I landed in front of the car, looked up at my opponent, and caught a laser blast to the chest. I was pushed backward, and slammed into the grill of the SUV. I crumpled to the ground, breathing heavily.

“Get away from my car!” shouted the woman from inside the Jeep.

I slowly stood, and saw Cyber Kow was charging toward me. In spite of the pain, I jumped back onto the hood of the car. While I was going up, my Condiment Sense went off. It was close by, very close. I landed on the hood, and fell to a knee as a laser blast shot past my shoulder.

I looked back, the employee at the KFC window shrugged at the drive thru customer. Pulling a BBQ packet from my belt, I jumped from the hood of the vehicle, spinning as I fell. When I hit the ground, I tossed the packet through the guy’s window.

I spun back to Cyber Kow, who galloped to the side of the SUV with me. The lady slammed on the gas, the SUV took off down the drive thru lane and slammed into the side of a big white van.

There was a whirr of sirens. Three police cars flew up Metcalf across the 119th intersection.

I jumped at Cyber Kow, grabbed him around the back, and punched him a few times in the face.

I was getting ready for another, when I was hit in the shoulder with a knitting needle. I dropped my old sidekick, and yanked the piece of metal from my shoulder. XStcher held up another needle, then looked toward the wreck.

The police were talking with the lady driving the wrecked SUV. She shouted something at them, then pointed over at me. The policeman glanced over, then continued to talk with the lady with his back to me.

I looked back toward XStcher0481, but she was gone. I turned my attention toward Cyber Kow, but he was gone too.

Engine revving, tires squealing. I flung around, the car behind me popped the small curb, and was coming straight for me. XStcher sat angrily behind the wheel.

I jumped across the drive thru lane, the car slamming into my cape as it zoomed past.

The car jumped the grassy curb, and sped across the Rosana Square parking lot.

I ran after the car across half the parking lot, but I realized they had no intention of continuing the fight today. Wimps.

I stopped pursuit in front of Hobby Lobby. While I stood catching my breath, I looked back at the accident in front of the KenTacoHut. The lady was still yelling at the police officers, the KFC manager was talking with another cop. Sure glad I’m a superhero and above these crazy laws.

Blood was running from my shoulder down my arm. Stupid XStcher0481. We’ll meet again. And then she will be sorry she ever wasted that Honey Mustard.