S for Superman

Two weeks ago, I was preparing a speech for Toastmasters. I never got a chance to share it (Thank, God). But I'll humiliate myself a bit and entertain you (and show you how retarded I am if you haven't realized already). The topic was : If you were a superhero, who would you be, what would you do, and why? I sat down and thought about this a really long time, but couldn't come up with anything heroic I would do that would not sound cliche. So, instead...
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My name is Booger. I am Kaiser intern by day, and unstoppable villain by night—I am a cloaked dark figure that gallop through the city streets on a black horse. It’s near impossible to spot me in the darkness of the night. But you can hear me, you can feel me. I am the occasional scream you hear at the stroke of midnight. I am the mysterious chill that goes up your spine when a draft of wind blows through your windows. You can sometimes hear the neighing of my horse before a child’s scream, or the stomping of hooves before someone’s desperate yell for help. I am the reason why humans fear the dark, the boogeyman of your childhood, the source of your fear of your adulthood. They call me…Superstition.

I travel with the wind. In an instant, I can dissolve and become one with the wind. I brush across your face and comb your hair. I make oak trees shiver and cause even the fiercest of animals to hide in their caves. I then materialize into my human form in your homes. Your child or little brother or sister screams. You run into their rooms. You ask, “What’s wrong?” They say, “There’s something in my closet.” You open the door—see nothing except overgrown clothes and a medley of toys. You tell the kid, “See, there’s nothing.” You smile at them, trying to reassure them, and leave. But you’ve been deceived. In fact, there was something in the closet, I was in the closet. But you can’t see wind, you can’t see what’s invisible. I just stole the kid’s lunch money for tomorrow. But you didn’t know, and you’ll blame the poor kid for carelessly losing it. And at school, with nothing to turn in, the kid tells explains to the teacher, “My dog ate my homework.” The teacher humiliates him in front of his peers. The teacher calls you or a parent, and informs about the ridiculous lie that was just told. The parent grounds the kid, taking away his precious PS3 and bans him from all things fun. Poor kid. No one believes that he really did stay up all night doing his homework when suddenly, I came in, and ate his homework. Poor dog, the kid’s best friend, who gets blamed because it sounds so much more plausible.

I patrol the streets of your city with a keen ability to detect child happiness. I feed on joy and leave misery. So where and who do I victimize? Wherever the wind blows and there is the tiniest hint of a child’s smile, you can’t rest easy.