As you may have seen, I did a “Captain Procrastination” story a few days ago. When I first wrote a story about him (many, many years ago), I had no plans on making a series out of it. To me, it was just a humorous concept. It was a person who had good superhuman powers, but was still a lame hero. Eventually, the novelty wore off and I tired of writing them.

So, I thought I’d flip the concept with my follow up character, DICO. He was a good (or at least decent) hero who had lame powers. That novelty wore off pretty quickly too. But, the recent CP story (which honestly only came about because of a joke between Matticus and myself) made me think back to a character I had come up with probably close to 15 years ago named Paintballer, who was both a lame hero and had lame powers.

Well, I guess technically he had no powers, but that’s beside the point.

A coworker of mine had heard about a contest at a comic book convention (it wasn’t the local one in Cincinnati. I think it was the one in Indianapolis or something). The contest involved making your own comic book/superhero movie, lasting between 5 to 10 minutes long. I don’t remember what the prize was for winning, but the two of us made plans to enter. We were going to do two movies, one for each of us.

There were two main problems we had to overcome. The first was budget…. we had none.

Neither of us had any money, so anything we did would have to involve things we either already had or that could be obtained for little or no money.

The second main problem was safety. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a lot of superhero movies have a lot of fighting in them and are pretty special effects heavy. As neither of us had any experience in either of these areas, the story couldn’t include things that could cause any permanent damage.

Paintballer solved both of those problems. The basic premise of the story was that a guy was being harrassed/abused by a couple of drug dealers in his neighborhood and decides to take action with the only weapon he has: his cheap, single shot paintball gun.

It solved the first problem because I already had one of those paintball guns. I never tried to use it to actually play paintball. It was only used to goof around/target practice before then. It solved the second problem because, barring getting shot in the eye, getting hit by a paintball wouldn’t cause any serious injuries. Plus, I was going to write it to where nobody got shot in the face. But, just to be safe, I was going to have my “drug dealers” wear sunglasses to cover their eyes in case something went really wrong.

Paintballer wasn’t going to win the day through skill. It was going to be pure luck. Five to ten minutes isn’t a lot of time to tell a story, or plan a fight, so I was going to have it be a slapstick, people getting shot in the nuts (wearing a cup, or other type of protection of course) kind of thing.

Sadly, Paintballer was not meant to be. We got started on it too late, and my coworker and I were never able to get enough time off together to ever put anything down on film, for either his project or mine. I thought about making the video anyway, even if it didn’t get submitted for the contest, but it didn’t seem worth it. Besides, not too many people would probably volunteer to let me shoot paintballs at them without getting some sort of compensation for it.

Over the past few days, I’ve thought about reviving Paintballer and making him more modern. Such as, giving him special paintballs kind of like how Hawkeye and Green Arrow have special arrows. Maybe he has a paintball that releases knockout gas when it ruptures, or one that packs a small amount of explosives so he can blow the lock off a door.

Or, maybe he’ll stay on the trash pile. I don’t know.

The Return of Captain Procrastination?

He looked over the paper in front of him and sighed. Being the mayor was not something he’d ever envisioned for himself. The only reason he had the job is because the last mayor was killed by a crime lord who called himself The Boss.
Despite the unimaginative name, The Boss had successfully taken over the city’s underworld after the death of its costumed superhero, Captain Procrastination. The city’s lame replacement hero, DICO, managed to score a couple of minor victories against The Boss, but he disappeared after the mayor was killed while under his protection (for the full story of DICO’s disappearance, please see his new story arc… that I haven’t written yet).
“Excuse me, Mr. Mayor.”
The voice from behind made him jump. He turned to see a figure standing in front of his office window, but the glare from the sun blocked his full view. All he saw was the outline of a head and a body wearing the costume of…
“Captain Procrastination,” he breathed in disbelief.
The mayor rolled his chair to the side to get out of the glare and got his first real glimpse of the person standing there. It was clearly not Captain Procrastination. “You’re not him,” the mayor said.
“I’m not the original, no. I’m the new one, and I’m better.”
“Oh really?” he asked, playing along with the clown dressed in the Captain Procrastination costume. “The first one was super fast. Can you do that?”
“Then what’s your superpower?”
“I look good in tights.”
While the mayor had to admit that the man had the body for the outfit, he didn’t have time, nor the inclination, to keep the charade up. “That’s not a superpower.”
“When you look this good, it is.”
“Get out of my office. And how did you get in here? The door is on the other side of the room.”
“Captain Procrastination away!”
The mayor watched in confusion as the man in the costume jumped out the window. When he heard the sound of the man landing on metal, he remembered that there was a fire escape outside. “Captain Procrastination” ran down the stairs with his arms out in front of him, making an airplane noise with his mouth as he went. The mayor shook his head, closed the window, sat back down, and went back to work reviewing the documents, hoping to never see that idiot again.

DICO – Bleeding Out Part 3

“Was the store owner ok,” Mayor Poopenmeyer asked. 

“Do you even care,” DICO responded as he continued bandaging up the mayor’s wounds.

“Not really. I’m just looking for something to take my mind off all the blood I’m losing.”

DICO rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Anyway …”


The sirens grew louder as DICO checked the shop owner for a bullet wound. He didn’t see one on his back, so he flipped him over. There, he saw a hole in the dead center of the owner’s chest. No blood seeped from it, which momentarily confused him. He put his finger into the hole and found that the store owner was wearing a Kevlar vest.

DICO sat back. “You can open your eyes now,” he said. “He’s out.”

The owner’s lids flew open and he let out a string of curses. “Damn, that hurts,” he complained after his venting session. 

“It’s better than being dead,” DICO reminded him.

Turning around, the hero saw that the police had arrived and had put the gunman into handcuffs. They also did their best to revive him. His eyes began to flutter open as paramedics arrived and led the shop owner away. The gunman thrashed at his bonds once he realized what was going on. One of the police officers lost his grip on the gunman’s arms. 

DICO, jumping into action, gave himself a titty twister, pulling one of his metallic nipples off. With the precision of a major league pitcher, he hurled the projectile at the gunman. It flew true, striking him right between the eyes. The gunman stopped dead in his tracks and wobbled unsteadily on his feet.

“Quit squirming, CQ,” the officer who still had a grip on him commanded. 

“You know him,” DICO asked. 

“He’s one of The Boss’ men. They call him CQ, but I don’t know why.”

DICO was glad that another one of The Boss’ thugs was going to prison. He watched while the officers shoved him into the back of a squad car. Before they closed the door, CQ regained enough of his wits to yell out at the hero. “You may have captured me,” he taunted, “but you’re too late to save your friend at City Hall.”

They wouldn’t go after the mayor. Would they?


Mayor Poopenmeyer looked over his wounds. “You’re pretty good at patching people up,” he remarked.

“I learned how to dress gunshot wounds while I was in the army,” DICO responded. 

The mayor gave his rescuer an angry glare. “You were in the military?”


“So you know how to fight using guns and everything?”


“You idiot, ” Mayor Poopenmeyer hollered, reaching up and slapping him. “You could’ve saved us a lot sooner and easier if you would’ve used normal weapons instead of your damn nipples.”

“But if I don’t use my powers, I won’t be a superhero.”

The mayor reached out and slapped DICO again. Unfortunately for him, he opened his wounds up when he did so. More blood began seeping from the two unnatural holes in the mayor’s body. Seconds later, Mayor Poopenmeyer  became dizzy and lost consciousness. DICO was about to work on getting the wounds closed again when there was a pounding on the door. 

Now DICO had a choice: work on fixing the mayor  up, or trying to fight off Jefferey. 

DICO – Bleeding Out Part 1

He took two shuffling steps forward down the dimly lit hallway. His body needed to go faster, but there was no energy behind his movements. Looking down at his torso, he saw another drop of blood fall from the bullet wound in his side. Someone had to hear the gunshot. Why wasn’t anyone coming to help him?

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind left him with a mixture of fear and hope inside. It was either someone rushing to his aid, or the person  who shot him was looking to finish him off. He had no way of knowing which. Whoever shot him did so from concealment. Anyone could’ve pulled the trigger.

Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw a man’s frame form in the shadows behind him. The outline didn’t appear to be one of somebody wearing a policeman or security guard’s uniform, but he was able to make out the gun in their hand. Fear lent him an adrenaline boost and he managed to speed up some.

Pain exploded in his shoulder as soon as he heard the gunshot. He fell forward hard, landing on his face without being able to brace himself. The room began spinning in his vision.

“Going somewhere,” he heard his attacker ask.

He wasn’t sure where he got the energy from, but he managed to turn himself over so he was laying on his back. The man who shot him stepped forward, finally passing through enough light so his face was visible. “I know you,” he said from his spot on the floor.

His attacker was Jefferey, one of The Boss’ top men. They had just talked a few hours ago.

“Yes, you do, Mayor Poopenmeyer,” Jeffery conceded. “The Boss wants me to deliver a message to you.”

“What message is that?”

He says goodbye.”

In slow motion, Jefferey’s finger tightened on the trigger. The mayor waited for the bullet to leap from the gun at him. Something flashed by over his head. He wasn’t sure what it was. All he saw was a glint of light flashing off of it. Almost deafening, the gun fired again.

To his surprise, the mayor found that he didn’t have a new hole in him. Instead, he saw Jefferey stumble back a few steps with blood dripping from his nose. “You,”Jefferey cried, looking past the prone mayor.

Poopenmeyer did his best to glance in that direction and barely managed to catch a glimpse of the man who saved him: DICO. The mayor couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited to see nipples. Well…

His thoughts were interrupted as DICO threw a second nipple and came closer to him. “Hang on,” he pleaded. “Help’s on the way, Mr. Mayor.”

“You’re late,” the mayor laughed weakly. “What took you so long?”

“It’s a long story…”


This was supposed to be an easy job. The boss was going to pay him to knock off a store owner that had done something to piss him off. He didn’t know what the store owner had done and he didn’t care. All he cared about was killing the guy so he could get paid.

It started off so promising too. He walked in and his mark didn’t expect a thing. Just as he was about to pull out his gun, one of the boss’ other men showed up and tried to steal the job from him. After a short fire fight, he managed to chase his rival off, but not before the owner got away.

By then, the police had probably been called, so he grabbed the shotgun the owner kept behind the counter and hoped he could convince the cops that he was an employee that had scared off a robber. He was in the middle of tampering with the store’s security cameras, to erase the footage, when he heard the door open. There were no sirens or lights, so he knew that it wasn’t the cops. Thinking that his rival came back, he turned and fired. Imagine his surprise when he sees that it was a homeless man pretending to be a superhero.

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Lisa looked out the window and cursed her ex-husband. He had been much more timid and easier to manipulate before he found out about her cheating. Now, instead of cowering before her, he demands paternity tests and says things like, “Lisa being a whore does not, and should not, entitle her to 18 years worth of my money,” in court when he finds out their son isn’t actually his. The worst part was when the judge agreed with him and stopped making him pay child support.

Look at me now, she thought. I’m riding a bus to the grocery store because my sister can’t give me a ride.

In the seat next to her, Jason, her son, giggled. When she turned to ask him what was so funny, she saw that he was staring at the man sitting across the aisle from them. The man was pole thin, wearing clothes that probably stunk and had seen much better days. “Don’t stare,” she scolded her child.
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The New Hero In Town

Mayor Poopenmeyer sat behind his desk, going over the latest city council proposal. In truth, he had very little interest in what was written there. After all, who cared about changes to parking zones? For the tenth time that day, he cursed the restrictions that were put on all the office computers. There was candy that needed crushed, but the site was blocked. He also chided himself for leaving his cell phone at home. From now on, he thought to himself, I need to keep a book in here so I have something better to read when I’m bored.

A knock on his office door made him jump slightly. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was still twenty minutes until his next appointment. The Transit Authority representative was never early. Before he could tell the knocker to come in, the door opened, revealing a thin man wearing tattered clothes. All he wanted to do was yell at the vagrant to get out of his office, but he held his tongue, knowing someone with a cell phone camera was probably within earshot.

“Excuse me, Mr. Mayor,” the man said.

It was probably going to be easier to pretend to listen to the man than to try to have him removed, so the mayor replied, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m hoping there’s something I can do for you.”

“And what’s that?

“Well, this city has been without a superhero since Captain Procrastination was killed. I’d like to be the next one.”

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