The vigilante thing started with The Brute. He was a massive guy, about six feet tall, who would go around beating the hell out of armed criminals. The police would turn a blind eye to this guy. I guess he made their job easier. The crime rate was down to almost nothing. He didn’t dress up in a costume or anything. He was such a bad ass that he dared any criminal to come after him. Well…criminals did come after him. Big surprise! The day after his funeral there were at least 10 muggings in my area alone. It got progressively worse from there.

Maybe I had a screw loose or something, but I got it in my head that I would have to do something since nobody else was stepping up to the plate. Me, a skinny, out of shape slacker. So I threw on the only costume I had, my old high school baseball uniform, and grabbed my wooden baseball bat. Major League was born. OK…the gimmick was lame but it was all I could do with what I had. I had a small panic attack as I stepped outside on my first patrol.