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Prerogative

“Oh, look. It’s Professor Fortune. Did you see a mad scientist in your crystal ball and teleport down here?” All six and a half feet of Wallbreaker leaned on a lamppost that almost bent under his massive frame. Even with his grizzly long hair and stubble, he still could wreck any car that crashed into him. And then throw it.

Professor Fortune wore his tailored suit, pulling off the cape without looking like a cheap stage magician. “So, Alcoholics Anonymous let out early? Or was today anger management?”

Wallbreaker laughed. “I figure I’ll take off. No sense in both of us bothering. You’ll be home in time for tea.”

The top floor of the apartment building exploded, and a man in a labcoat riding on what could only be described as a heavily modified dinosaur crashed down onto the asphalt. The dinosaur belched a hundred feet of flame.

Wallbreaker pulled down his famous steel mask. Professor Fortune smirked. “If you’re going, that’s your prerogative.”

“Smartass,” muttered Wallbreaker. “I haven’t ruled it out.”

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