Super Cancerman
It’s a bird…it’s a plane…it’s…Super Cancerman!
The city’s most lovable hero is back at it again after his fifth heart transplant. “Searching these streets for scumbags is what I do best,” Super Cancerman said in his most recent interview. “As long as my heart is still ticking I’ll continue protecting Tumourre City from the rapists, murderers and thieves. And if I find them, they better watch out ‘cause I’ll irradiate their asses.”
While genuinely liked by the citizens of Tumourre City, Super Cancerman’s methods haven’t been proven to reduce crime. Although harsh, the waves of radiation he emits don’t exactly cause immediate effects – criminals can expect diarrhea and anal irritation a few days later, and a 20% increased risk for cancer 20 years later.
If Super Cancerman gets really angry he’ll launch his patented “Just Sprinkle Some Chemo On It!” chemo sprinkles at the criminals. Unfortunately for the citizens of Tumourre City, most of the sprinkles find their way into the groundwater, and even more shockingly, local dog food. The doggy morgue has had to expand as of late because of Super Cancerman’s recent anger problem.
Why has Super Cancerman become so bitter? To answer that, we must go back to his early years. It’s safe to say Super Cancerman was predisposed to cancer. He was born to an impoverished, chain-smoking mother and a paranoid-schizophrenic father who thought that fiber was the world’s worst enemy. “If I catch you eating a vegetable I’ll feed you laxatives until your colon bursts,” his father used to threaten.
When he was six, Super Cancerman’s curiosity got the best of him. His father caught him eating a spear of broccoli. What happened next was so repulsive I can barely type the words – his father forced him to drink three bottles of Fleet Phospho-Soda. You know, the stuff you need to drink before a colonoscopy. After two days of torture Super Cancerman decided he never wanted to eat another vegetable again.
Equally tragic was that Super Cancerman grew up before anybody knew the dangers of cigarettes, and his mother used to reward him for good grades with them. By the age of 11 he was consuming four packs of cigarettes a day – two by smoking and two by digesting. Needless to say, he excelled as a student.
At the tender age of 16 his eating habits and lifestyle caught up to him when he was found to have no less than five cancers, all at the same time. When considering what kind of treatment plan he would have, his doctors were stumped. Finally his head doctor, Dr. Flounder, decided the best treatment would be to lock him in a nuclear reactor for an unknown period of time. I use the word “unknown” because, quite frankly, everybody forgot he was in there.
“I was doing a lot of drugs back in those days,” Dr. Flounder said. “I got high, what do you want me to say.”
When Dr. Flounder finally remembered, she opened the reactor to retrieve Super Cancerman, but he was gone. Vanished. “We thought he vaporized.”
But Super Cancerman was far from vaporized. The radiation and multiple cancers exploded in the form of a mutation never before seen, thus transforming the young boy into the superhero he is today. Super Cancerman became a Super Cancer. He could squirt chemotherapy out of his veins, dick and ass, and he could breath and fart radiation.
Super Cancerman quickly realized he could use his new powers for good, so he sewed a blue cape and took to the streets to serve his own form of justice. His first task was to infiltrate the local gang and then systematically give all the members cancer treatment.
“They were screwed,” Super Cancerman chuckled while reminiscing about his gang days. “Some of those guys wouldn’t live past their 40’s or 50’s. I knew I did my job, so I moved on to more bad guys.”
And that he did. For the next several decades Super Cancerman caused an estimated 400,000 cancer deaths and twice as many cancer survivors. These figures are not lost on Tumourre City’s financial department, which paid for the construction of a $100 billion cancer hospital.
This brings us back to his recent heart transplant. You see, his powers are not infinite – in order to produce radiation and chemotherapy he must continually replenish his body with new cancers through the consumption of cigarettes, pesticides and other cancer-causing toxins, along with his no-fiber diet.
“Every so often I need a new organ,” Super Cancerman said. “It goes with the superhero territory, which you would know nothing about.”
Many Tumourre City citizens are becoming increasingly fearful of Super Cancerman. “My dog had cancer from bad dog food, and yesterday I found him dead in a pile of his own guts. Somebody carved him up and ate his cancer. I think it was Super Cancerman.”
This anonymous citizen is not the only person to suspect that Super Cancerman has been eating dogs. Other citizens even believe that he has purposefully increased the use of his chemo sprinkles in order to cause more cancers, just so he could eat them. Researchers believe that by eating cancer directly he has increased his own powers.
“That’s all he wants – power,” one researcher explained. “The more cancer he consumes the more powerful he gets. He’s always pissed off nowadays because he can’t consume cancers fast enough. He wants more and more and more. Pretty soon all of Tumourre City will realize that he’s creating cancer, only to consume cancer for his own benefit. He truly is a Super Cancer.”
Even through all of this, the town still loves him. “He may be a Super Cancer, but he’s our own Super Cancer,” one town resident exclaimed. “You’ll always be in my heart, Super Cancerman!”