A Nickel

They call me Nickel. Let me count the reasons why. I suppose it could be said that I bear some resemblance, in personality and bearing, to a certain character from a certain graphic novel. It is unfortunate, then, that I am lying through my teeth and that I possess neither his wit nor canine physiology. Perhaps the fundamental components that consist my unique skills and abilities are as varied and useful as the many properties of nickel. Or perhaps it is because, like nickel, some people are allergic to me. Perhaps ingestion of microscopic compounds of myself over extended lengths of time leads to heavy metal buildup with a potentially lethal toxicity.

As one may have deduced, the reasons for my name are many and various, each reflecting unique perspectives on the nature of my person. Let it be said that I truly am an interesting and highly valuable resource to society.

…Beg pardon, what did you say?

The truth?

…If you must know, they call me Nickel because—

—well, because it’s roughly what I’m worth.

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