this is officially a FLCL blog

monetizeyourcat:

superman is attacked by a man in a striped shirt and domino mask with a special tincture of gray kryptonite. “the criminal underworld sends its regards, big man!”, shouts the criminal, dousing supes with the mysterious fluid.

superman retreats to his fortress of solitude to discover the nature of his new affliction. he rapidly works out, in part by repeatedly violating canadian airspace, that now the gray kryptonite is in his system, every time superman commits a crime, he shrinks in size slightly.

at first, this doesn’t seem to be a problem; superman is aligned with the law - not to the obsessive, litigious, mean-spirited degree of batman, but he is still not especially prone to committing crimes. over the course of a few weeks, he has largely forgotten about the gray kryptonite.

but little by little, superman shrinks - here blowing a red light, there accidentally eating a big league chew and forgetting to pay. before the year is out, he is a foot shorter, and has scaled down proportionately in width and breadth.

superman is alarmed, intellectually, but the change seems positive to him. he enjoys being smaller on a level he is not fully comfortable with. slowly, he begins seeking out crimes to commit for their own sake - minor ones at first, then larger ones. a three-foot-tall superman obliterates a hundred miles of border fence in texas, refusing to justify himself to police. a masked man too small to be an adult, with a powerful, commanding little voice, tears open a bank vault with his bare hands; its bearer bonds are distributed in a nearby soup kitchen faster than any car could deliver them.

before superman is too small for her to speak to, but after they have broken up - he is simply too small for her - lois lane asks superman, “why?”

he tells her, on the one hand, he can’t deny there is a sexual motive. superman enjoys being smaller. his power is being concentrated into a point; his body is changing, and it is changing under his control. this powerfully arouses the man of steel and he isn’t sure why, but he has grown so inured to criminality that he now embraces this, rather than scorning it.

but on the other hand, he says, his being smaller is the best thing that ever happened to him as superman. some day, he confides, he will be so small no one can see him, but will still be the most powerful man in the world. someday soon, miracles will happen to people every day without the apparent agency of superman. no one will be sure if the way their lives are going right is superman or their own strength. superman can finally do what he has never been able to do: to be the strength of his friends and loved ones; to make them feel as powerful as he has always known they are.

to superman, shrinking beyond the veil of sight is for him to cease to cast a shadow, but to continue to give shelter. 

a few weeks later, lois is writing a story about a researcher who lexcorp’s cancer drug division has dropped charges of piracy against for lack of evidence. he has always claimed the formulas and basic research disappeared of their own accord, but evidence put them in his hands - evidence which has since melted in police custody.

she sighs, and looks out the window. she sees what must be either a bird or a plane. she smiles, and goes back to her work.

outside, a man in a striped shirt and domino mask grins wickedly. criminality has achieved its ultimate victory. crime has never been bigger… or smaller.

sashayed:

this elevator dings. you vaguely register that the bell has a kind of woozy double-frequency tremulousness, as if it is audible somewhere other than your ears, like in your teeth. as if it goes directly into your brain without passing your ears. also do the doors look….different than they did a second ago? you don’t really notice. you are texting, and anyway who cares, you are just trying to get to the third floor, where the Express is, because you need a pair of work pants. as the doors slide closed you reach out to press the “3” button. your fingers freeze in mid-air. there is no “3” button. all the buttons say “ha.” ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. your brow wrinkles. you look around. the tinny elevator music is subtly shifting into a chorus of weird crooning chants that sound like hiiiiiiiiiii. hiiiiiiiiii. hiiiiiiiii. "UM!" you say aloud. you press one of the "ha" buttons. the glass sides of the elevator start to fog up with a pink mist. you can’t see the mall atrium anymore. animal panic sets in and you slam your hand across all of the buttons. the elevator judders once, then starts to descend. at first you are afraid, but then slowly you realize: this is your fate. this was always going to happen. this was the moment you have always been waiting for. Your Moment. a smell of creamy musk and grapefruits drifts into your nostrils. you are swaddled in a pink narcotic haze. “is this okay?” whispers someone in your ear. “of course,” you say dreamily. “of course it’s okay, harry styles.” the mist closes in around you. the elevator vanishes into the earth. you will never get to buy your pair of work pants. your family will never see you again

sashayed:

this elevator dings. you vaguely register that the bell has a kind of woozy double-frequency tremulousness, as if it is audible somewhere other than your ears, like in your teeth. as if it goes directly into your brain without passing your ears. also do the doors look….different than they did a second ago? you don’t really notice. you are texting, and anyway who cares, you are just trying to get to the third floor, where the Express is, because you need a pair of work pants. as the doors slide closed you reach out to press the “3” button. your fingers freeze in mid-air. there is no “3” button. all the buttons say “ha.” ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. your brow wrinkles. you look around. the tinny elevator music is subtly shifting into a chorus of weird crooning chants that sound like hiiiiiiiiiii. hiiiiiiiiii. hiiiiiiiii. "UM!" you say aloud. you press one of the "ha" buttons. the glass sides of the elevator start to fog up with a pink mist. you can’t see the mall atrium anymore. animal panic sets in and you slam your hand across all of the buttons. the elevator judders once, then starts to descend. at first you are afraid, but then slowly you realize: this is your fate. this was always going to happen. this was the moment you have always been waiting for. Your Moment. a smell of creamy musk and grapefruits drifts into your nostrils. you are swaddled in a pink narcotic haze. “is this okay?” whispers someone in your ear. “of course,” you say dreamily. “of course it’s okay, harry styles.” the mist closes in around you. the elevator vanishes into the earth. you will never get to buy your pair of work pants. your family will never see you again

goodblowjobgiver1337:

me (except that in this universe i don’t know about apartment buldings yet): look this building is so big that me AND all my friends!! could live in it at the same time!! how practical :)

goodblowjobgiver1337:

me (except that in this universe i don’t know about apartment buldings yet): look this building is so big that me AND all my friends!! could live in it at the same time!! how practical :)

mirrorneurons:

don’t dance like nobody’s watching. dance like david byrne. david byrne does not care if people are watching and in fact gains power from the confusion he sows