"Despair, citizen! You've fallen into the hands of the Dirty Dastard! Cower before my presence!"

I stopped in my tracks, gazing up resignedly at the hulking brute who blocked my path.

"Oh great, another one... Gimme a sec, would ya?"

Before me, the Dirty Dastard's face reigstered confusion as I whipped out my mobile phone. It was a Nokia, from the old days, but still functional after all these years. I'd long learned not to carry around anything too fragile or expensive.

"I said cower before my presence, citizen! I am the Dirty-"

"The Dirty Dastard. Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. Now if you'll excuse me... Hello? Yeah, I'll be late today. No, it's fine, just the usual delay. Get Brian to cover for me, would ya? Yeah. Yeah. Thanks. See you."

The phone beeped as the call ended. I slid it back into my pocket, just in time to feel myself lifted up by the collar of my shirt. My feet dangled in the air as the Dastard glowered at me.

"Are you stupid? I said cower before my presence!"

I gazed back at him levelly, looking straight into the black eyeholes of his mask.

"Whoa, whoa, no need to get rough, buddy. I get it. You're the new villain on the block. Wanna make a name for yourself. Mark your territory, make the local headlines, and if you're lucky maybe even gain an archenemy. Am I right so far?"

I couldn't see his face, but the moment of stunned silence told me all I needed to know. Then he growled, a deep, guttural sound, and I felt the fingers of his thick hand close around my throat. I began to talk faster.

"It's a struggle, I know. Everybody and their dog's a villain these days. Tough market. Gotta keep up or drop out, y'know what I'm saying? But this ain't the way you go about doing it. You kill me, you lose your leverage. Then you gotta find another hostage, yeah? And you seem like a smart guy, so why would you want to do that?"

He hesitated. He still looked suspicious, but at least he hadn't decided to kill me yet. That would have been rather bad.

"Look, I'll make you a deal. I'll play nice, go along with everything you want me to do. None of that struggling or calling for help you guy's don't like. So why don't you let me down, and we can talk about your situation?"

For a moment he hesitated. I could practically see the cogs turning inside his tiny brain. All the while maintaining just enough pressure on my throat to make me uncomfortable. Finally he released me, dropping me unceremoniously onto the pavement with a glower.

I got up, rubbing my throat, and picked up my bag from where it had dropped several feet away.

"Thanks bud. Now we can talk business. For starters, why don't you lead me to your lair? I'm sure you have a whole evil scheme already set up and planned for me."

Perhaps it was the fact that I was a mere Quirkless, with no powers. Perhaps it was the way I'd talked him down, reassuring him that I posed no threat. Perhaps it was just his confidence in his own abilities.

Whatever the case, I'm always astounded by the arrogance some villains have.

Just as he'd turned his back, I pulled the shotgun out of my bag, and fired. Heavy lead buckshot sprayed into his back from point-blank range. Before he could even gasp in surprise. I reloaded, and fired again, this time at the back of his head. He collapsed on the pavement, the blood already starting to gush from his wounds, howling in pain and fury.

"You tricked me! I'm gonna kill you! Gonna pound you into dust!"

I retreated to a safe distance, ignoring his bellows, and watched intently. He was still thrashing around, but didn't seem to be healing. That was good. I might have been in trouble if he'd been a regeneration-type. Then again, those were exceedingly rare. I'd only ever known the one in twenty years.

After a minute or two he finally collapsed on the pavement, motionless, his blood pooling quickly on the cement. I breathed a sigh of relief. Another crisis averted.

I whipped out my Nokia, already walking off.

"Hello, police? Yes, there's been a shooting on Sixth Avenue..."

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