They called me Davey Do-Good. Everyone loved me. Women wanted me. Men wanted to be me. Children would ambush and tickle me whenever they had a chance. Okay, maybe I made that last one up, but you get where I'm going.
It's obvious from my name that I do good. In fact, I was the greatest superhero of my generation, or any generation, and I had every superpower imaginable. I could undo an oil spill and give the liner's captain directions, using myself as the compass. I could make a tortoise ten times as fast as usual, just so it could cross the road. And under my secret identity, David Israel, I was a regular donor to the Red Cross. Whenever you saw something good you thought couldn't be done, it was usually me.
Then there's my archnemesis, The Terrier. Every Superman has to have a Lex Luthor, and The Terrier was mine. He had most of the abilities that I had, except he used them for pure evil. He cheated at fishing by evaporating the lake. He carved the genitalia off Michelangelo's Statue of David because he thought it looked sexier when the statue was a nullo. He even commissioned the creation of a virus that made one see the world like it was a sketchbook. The world hated him, and he hated it back. And now, he had a real surprise in store: a machine that could turn the past into the present, and the present into the future. That's right, his Timegate (patent pending) was finally complete.
He was about to make reality itself his permanent slave. That is if I didn't have anything to say about it. And when it came to The Terrier, I usually did have something to say about it. This moment was no exception.
[SYSTEM ONLINE.]
>Guess who?
>>Ah, Davey Do-Good. It seems we've crossed paths yet again.
>Indeed, we have, Terrier. And hopefully, for the last time.
>>"Hopefully"? More like definitely for the last time. I've already warmed up the Timegate, and in a matter of seconds, I will have total control of history, from the Big Bang to right now. I'll be able to stop you from being born, and with you out of the way, I WILL DOMINATE!
He switched the lever that should've activated the Timegate...but it didn't. This was because I disconnected the switch from the mainframe while he wasn't looking.
>>What the...it's not working!!
>You're clever, Terrier, but I'm cleverer. Why don't you go up to your little wormhole and tell me if it's working.
He did. Then, I pushed him into the gate and reconnected the switch. However, when I did, an alarm went off.
[COMMENCING MELTDOWN! COMMENCING MELTDOWN!]
>>Hahahahaha! You big bonehead! Do you know what you've just done?
>Uh...
>>By interrupting the power supply of my Timegate, you caused its core to destabilize! You've just turned my portal into a massive black hole!
>What!?!?
>>That's right, it's because of your stupidity that your atoms are about to be diced and caramelized, and while you're going to regret this for life, I'll have a field day with the entire Villain Union, of which I am a lifetime member.
>Wait, if this is a black hole, wouldn't your atoms be diced and caramelized, too?
>>Wha...oh, shit. You're right! I'm the big bonehead for overlooking the power requirements of this thing, and now it's too late!
And with that, everything in the universe, including the universe itself, was no more...at least that's what I thought.
A little while later, I opened my eyes. Yes, my atoms were diced and caramelized, but it wasn't until I got up from the intergalactic cutting board that I found myself in a really peculiar situation. I was a lot smaller, I had lost my superpowers, I couldn't say a word of English, and I seemed to be in some kind of encagement. Then, I looked closer; diapers, a changing table, an entire row of stuffed animals. I eventually realized that this "encagement" was my old crib, and inside, beside me was my favorite bottle. All of this meant only one thing: I died and this was heaven...almost. What actually happened was that the past had become the present and the present had become the future. I think I reset myself to cubhood, with Mom's silly-colored hair and Dad's biker beard.
I don't care if I'm stuck like this. In fact, I'm glad it happened, and for a good reason: I don't have to worry about a specific Terrier for a while.
P.S.: you don't want to know where he is right now.
