It was just a typical day on the set.

The same stories, the same arguments, the same preaching to the same choir.

But the anticipation was in the air.

Tonight was the start of the next chapter. Ratings, awards, a devout fan following, none of this shit mattered.

A calling is a calling, and you can only put it off so long.

For months now, the end of the night's show signaled the beginning. Extensive training, extensive resaerch, extensive sewing of a kicky costume. Each kick, each alphabetically ordered entry into a database, each breathable fiber, bringing the day closer and closer. Today was that day.

He loved his country. He was borderline obsessed with his country. Quite frankly, his country gave him a boner.

It was time to repay the favor. He said his good night, left the studio, and embarked on his journey.

He cruised around looking for action. He stumbled upon a bank robbery in process. He briefly considered making this his first conquest, but quickly came to his senses. "It's beneath me", he thought, "and it fights the system".. He sped past the getaway driver and offered a thumbs up.

No, he was trying to hook bigger fish in bigger ponds. There was his target. He parked his car, and approached the office of his country's latest political enemy, his not at all flamboyant costume flapping in the light breeze and leaving nothing to the imagination.


He was shot to death on sight.