Bart knew what it felt like to have four grunting beasts chasing you out the door. They were always bigger and tougher looking, the kind of guys who didn’t care that you were a teenager who couldn’t drink alcohol or buy cigarettes on your own yet. Kids were like bugs in the sense that stupid men who felt cheated thought they could effortlessly lift a boot and stomp the little pests into the concrete until their spines cracked. Or until they yelled mercy and gave in. In his experience, one of the two was preferred, depending on how bad you screwed them over in the first place.
He didn’t mind getting involved with whatever fiasco was unfolding. It would give him something to do and take his mind off of Juno and how retarded he could make his life be when he didn’t play by the rules. Some kids would have told her to get lost, would have turned around and walked away with a shrug and a smirk that said that they were happy that it wasn’t them. However, Bart wasn’t some kid and he could take care of himself in situations that mimicked this one.
And superheroes were expected to help people out. It was like, their job, and if you slept in and didn’t go to work you could get fired or yelled at or given a long, drawn out speech that made the first two seem like a bowl full of pudding. The good kind and not the kind that sucked.
Look tough, like he could kick the assess of four guys who were way bigger than him? Yeah, that wasn’t something that was going to happen in the near future. It would never work. Never. He was too small and too skinny and way too young looking to fool them with acting alone. They wouldn’t buy it.
“We can stay right where we are, without me making myself look like an idiot. We’ll wait for them to skip on out here, and then I’ll make them go away,” he said, like it would be the easiest thing in the world. In his defense, when you could move like he could, it was one of the easiest things in the world.