Today it rained, which meant no work. Actually, it’s supposed to rain the rest of the week, with the exception of tomorrow, so that’s pretty craptastic. Instead I did my little bit of Christmas shopping, and put on a load of British invasion music and made cookies for the H&H gang. I’d had the idea a few weeks ago, when we were feeling particularly grateful to our favourites and I was trying to figure out a way to say thanks. Money is tight, as it is everywhere else, and I didn’t know anyone well enough to buy them things (I guess buying them the action figure of their character would be a little heavy-handed), so baking cookies always works. I had the idea to do chocolate chip and maybe two other flavours. Storm Trooper said, “Ooh, whatcha making?” and when I named chocolate chip and said, “And maybe something else?” he nicely suggested, “Oatmeal raisin? They’re my favourite.” I loves me some oatmeal raisin cookies, and they will always remind me of my favourite John Lennon impersonator (oh, the stories from that era of my life!), so I said yes. Besides, I’m probably most grateful to him and Vader for letting me work with them whenever I want and letting me in on some of their long-established success, so what they want, they get. Then peanut butter came to mind, and that was that.

Since I don’t have anything new to report, thanks to the crap weather, I’ll instead tell a short but infamous story that I’d mentioned in an earlier post. This is the story of The Bleach Incident.

We were told the story of The Bleach Incident during our week straight of work, when everything started to get crazy. Or, I guess when the veneer wore off and the true boulevard came out. Either way, this is a good example of why it pays to be creative and pave your own way if you choose to join the cast of characters, and why it’s good to have as many people as possible on your side.

So Superman has been doing his thing for quite some time. I believe he said it’s been 17 years? Pretty sure. In that time he’s carved a niche for himself, meeting hundreds of celebrities (in varying degrees of fame), being filmed possibly hundreds of times, in thousands of photographs, and being on the Jimmy Kimmel Show across the street quite often. He’s one of the four leads in Confessions of a Superhero, and he and Fat Elvis are the only two characters featured in the Hollywood section of the new book Faces of Sunset Boulevard by Patrick Ecclesine. In fact, Superman opens that section. It’s safe to say he’s famous in his own way.

As a result, it’s sort of an unwritten rule that no one else does Superman. Everyone knows the one who’s there, and you don’t mess with that. Just as no one else did Batman when Max (also from Confessions) was around — though also because they got their ass beat if they tried.

It seems that one day not too long before we arrived on the scene some unsuspecting dope took it in his head to try his luck as Superman. According to Storm Trooper, who told me the story, it was a pretty crap Superman costume, and the guy was obviously homeless. So they dubbed him Homeless Superman. Before long, word had gotten back to the original Superman, and he showed up, enraged. He told his homeless counterpart to sod off, and when the guy wouldn’t leave, Superman disappeared. He reappeared not to long afterwards, a cup in his hands. He poured the contents of the cup down the front of Homeless Superman’s costume. It was bleach. Superman had walked back home, poured a glass of bleach, and carefully walked back to ruin his competition’s costume and ensure he’d have to leave and most likely wouldn’t come back.

Storm Trooper said the homeless guy never reappeared, so I guess it worked. While it may sound a bit crazy and an over reaction, keep in mind that this is Superman’s life. He is an image, and if he sees his image could be tarnished, he’ll fight to protect it. I’m sure he was afraid people would think the Homeless Superman was THE Superman, and couldn’t have that. Not that I’m excusing throwing bleach at someone, though it is an entertaining story (because it didn’t happen to me, and if it does, you’d best believe that it wouldn’t end there).

And there, children, is the story of The Bleach Incident. The moral is, most obviously, to use the brain God gave you to think up something original, and to not cross any of the characters on the boulevard. They’re an inventive bunch, and they know how far they can go without crossing the law.