Chapter Two of “The Adventures of The Caped Avenger and Raoul!”
Later that same day…
Our heroes returned to their civilian guises as “Rick Green” and “Dave Schwartz” to stake out the Henchman’s Union Hall in order to confirm their suspicions that Cosmic Stan has been hiring goons for some as-yet-unknown evildoing.
“You know, C.A.,” said “Dave Schwartz”, “your mild-mannered look would be a lot more effective if you weren’t wearing that cape.”
“Why, whatever are you talking about, ‘Dave’?” “Rick Green” said with a forced laugh. He reached behind him and tucked the end of his cape back into his seersucker pants.
“Oh, please! That makes your ass look like a mountain of cottage cheese!” exclaimed “Dave Schwartz”. “Pull it back out and forget I said anything. You have less fashion sense than AquaRanger!”
“AquaRanger! No need to be insulting, old chum!”
“Well really, C.A. In the first place, seersucker isn’t acceptable after September. Your tie clashes with your cape. And who the hell wears ‘Earth Shoes’ any more?”
“Don’t call me C.A. when we’re undercover! Okay, the shoes were on sale at the Salvation Army store, so sue me. But comparing me to a man who wears a dead fish on his chest is totally unfair!”
Meanwhile, as the two superheroes bicker the finer points of men’s day wear, a white van pulled up in front of the union hall. The rear doors burst open, and the two Hawaiian-shirted goons emerge. One carried a black leather briefcase chained to his wrist with a pair of handcuffs. The other had a bowling ball bag. Spotting “Rick” and “Dave” across the street, the men scurried around the corner of the alley next to the union hall.
“Well I think your belt doesn’t go with your shoes!” “Rick” shouted and pivoted so that his back was turned to “Dave”.
“You take that back, you little half-wit!”
“Will not!”
As the heroes deliberately ignored one another save for the occasional huff, the front door of the union hall swung wide and half a dozen assorted ruffians shuffled out. Each man held a thick wad of dollar bills in one hand and a pair of black sunglasses in the other. They climbed aboard the van, followed shortly by the first two henchmen. The van doors slammed shut and the van tore off down the street, tires screeching.
“So how long are we going to stay on this stakeout?” “Dave” finally asked after many minutes of angry silence.
“Until we notice something suspicious going on,” said Rick, who had taken off his shoes and placed them along the curb. “Cosmic Stan can’t stay out of our sight for very long.”
As if on cue, a gangly young man wearing a heavy metal band t-shirt and carrying a stack of pizza boxes rounded the corner and walked purposefully toward the union hall door.
“Dave” spotted him at once and tapped furiously on “Rick’s” shoulder.
“You’re going to have to actually SAY you’re sorry this time,” said Rick, not looking up.
“C.A.! I mean… ‘Rick’! Look!”
The hero’s eyes glanced over to see the teenager ring the buzzer on the door. “That’s not Cosmic Stan. It’s some pizza delivery guy,” he said.
“That’s exactly the sort of trick Cosmic Stan would try to pull on us!” said “Dave”. He’s probably using that unsuspecting pizza delivery boy to deliver evildoing instructions to his willing minions inside!”
“That is the smartest thing you’ve said all day, Raoul! I mean Rick…er, Dave! Shall we go take receipt of those ‘pizzas’?”
“Dave” dashed across the street to intercept the pizza delivery guy. Meanwhile, “Rick” struggled trying to get his Earth Shoes back on. “Wait!” he said. “I can’t tell which foot is which!!”
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