It was a few days later that the next significant event took place. My understanding of insurance procedures was that they typically took a while before all the paperwork was in place and a claim could be made. It seemed the Association that Grim had been insured with was no different. I had spent the preceding days investing my newly acquired capital in some essentials that every business needed. I had contracted a construction company to make several changes to my lair. I had reached out to a recruitment agent to find some talent that I could outsource essential marketing expertise to, and I had also contacted several organisations that could create a set of branded Rudolph-based sports clothing. Merchandising was often an easy route to make money, and I was never one to take the path of least resistance. 

As an up-and-coming evil doer, I recognised that my work ethic at this stage of my career could be nothing but diligent, and therefore I had been spending many hours in my lair, concocting new schemes and seeking advice on online discussion boards. However, even the most diligent of hard workers needed to step outside on occasion, and I found that I required some fresh air. I donned my cloak and left my lair, headed towards a local park. People often think that evil entrepreneurs such as myself were cloaked in filth and masked in gore. Still, the reality was that most successful evil doers wore a business suit and were more likely to sell teeth-rotting sugar-infused delicacies to increase the obesity rate and profit from providing healthcare, than they were to walk around with an open blade caked with dried blood. The funny thing about society and perception is that the former killed a lot more people than the latter, but everyone abhorred the latter and praised the former. Don’t get me wrong, the purist practitioners of evil involved themselves in both and advocated that those who couldn’t stomach the blood shouldn’t profit from the sugar, and I feel intent on earning my stripes. But for now, I contented myself with the freedom to walk through a park unmolested by open disgust. 

I was sitting on a park bench when I began to hear a whine. It wasn’t the whine of a child or dog heard from a distance. In fact, it was a whine that was getting louder. I clenched my jaw and looked up, running between the surrounding trees, trying to make out whether the objects in the air were distant birds or something else. There, a speck began to grow into the shape I had been expecting to see for the past few days. Finally, the Association had sent forward an agent of retribution. I was pleased to see that Grim hadn’t been merely boasting. His insurance was of the highest order, and as such, the most prominent figure in superdom had been sent. The poster boy of superheroes all over the planet. His speed of travel through the air did nothing to ruin his perfectly coiffed hair, and the latest body suit he was wearing emphasised every muscle within his body. He looked impressive to say the least, although my knowledge of the fitness industry had given me insight into this kind of muscled look. Whilst seemingly an industry designed for the betterment of society, the health and fitness industry was as successfully evil as anything you could think of. I had spent a long time digging deeply into its potential. The torturous diet regimens frequently promoted were impossible to sustain long-term, and I soon figured out that fitness promoters were as fake as hybrid cars. No one could maintain that sort of physique for long periods; those diets were as soul-destroying as their workouts. With this kind of insight, I peered carefully at the gleaming model of strength and nobility that was now floating before me with his arms crossed. He was half smiling, which infuriated me, especially as my suspicion grew that those muscles weren’t real and were actually implants that were part of the suit. I scratched my face absently, pleased that I wasn’t quaking in fear yet and hoping that my expensively acquired Ogre support would soon be on hand. 

“Halt, Villain” His baritone was annoyingly accomplished. “Stop where you are, for it is time for you to receive your reckoning.” Clearly, it was a stupid thing to say since I wasn’t actually moving or trying to get away. “I am Superlative Man, and today your evil deeds have caught up with you!” He continued. I also saw that a team of drone-mounted cameras had been following Superlative Man and were now circling him, capturing his performance in all its drama. Perhaps because of this, he decided to demonstrate his power, casually floating towards a tree. He dug his fingers and thumb deeply into its bark and, with a slight grunt, lifted it into the air as if it were nothing. An expulsion of soil, rocks and dangling roots followed the tree into the air, and he swung it around several times. 

Aside from being a total waste of a tree that was likely several decades old and had provided shade from the elements to countless park goers, it was also a highly impractical weapon. More likely, the branches would snag the floor first before the trunk could hit me if that were his intention.

The cameras had now swung around so as not to be obstructed by the tree, and Superfluous Man was expertly allowing his cape to billow so that his sponsors were visible. He allowed a few minutes at this pose, presumably to fulfil some sort of sponsorship obligation and then slowly floated towards me with tree in hand. By this point, I’m not even sure he had paid any attention to me specifically. He was so lost in his performance that he didn’t even notice that a large Ogre had finally decided to make an appearance. Either Jeremy was coincidentally taking a stroll through the park at the same time, or he had been carefully tracking my whereabouts. He was now providing the value that his exorbitant fee demanded. I preferred to assume it was the second. 

Finally, Superfluous Man gave me his full attention. “Little man”, he began, “I will make this painful. It is not for you to assault the pantheons of goodness that our dear city harbours.” I assumed he was talking about Grim, or maybe he referred to all their clients as pantheons of goodness. He deigned to lower himself to the ground now. He had awkwardly created his handhold in the tree a bit higher than he should have, and it meant that he now had to hold the length of the tree over his head. It was proving to be a largely useless weapon, but perhaps the drama it elicited for viewers was more critical. He probably had sponsors associated with his online social media channel as well. Jeremy used the cover provided by the awkwardly positioned tree to hide his approach.

“Excuse me, Sir”, I winced, still unused to the clanking of Jeremy’s voice. Superfluous Man also winced, but he was a more experienced performer and didn’t let any annoyance show on his face in front of the roving cameras. He fixed his smile and turned to face Jeremy. My suspicions about his muscles seemed accurate as there was no sign of any strain whilst lifting the tree. “Good Sir,” he began, “allow me to finish dealing with this malign foe and then I will assist you.” He flashed another gleaming white smile that was entirely lost on Jeremy. The Ogre wasn’t remotely intimidated and pointed at the phone in his other hand, “I just want to know what the Wifi password is.” It took a second for Superfluous Man to process the strange request, and he struggled not to allow his face to bunch into confusion. His eyes darted towards the cameras, probably considering what he could get away with saying whilst maintaining his image of magnanimous nobility. Jeremy continued in his ear-assaulting clank, “I just noticed you had a Wifi router fixed to your belt. I wondered if I could get the password?” With that, Jeremy casually swiped one of his muscled Ogre arms towards the black box he was talking about and crushed it as easily as a biscuit. There was a moment or two, where Superfluous Man didn’t react, and Jeremy stepped away in mock horror, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done. Several red lights began blinking across the spandex that the Superfulous man was wearing, and the cameras that had previously been positioned with purpose were suddenly disoriented. 

Suddenly, the tree that had been effortlessly suspended above Superfluous Man violently crushed him in a cloud of soil and debris. Jeremy coughed several times before idly walking over towards me. My mouth was now hanging open. There was so much I wanted to know. Jeremy lifted a hand to forestall my questions. “We’ve always known superfluous man to be mechanically enhanced. He is a largely unoriginal person, and we quickly figured out that there was a comic book character on planet Earth whom he’d modelled himself on. His suit depends on a regular internet connection, and this was an easy target. He looked towards the wreckage that was the previously majestic tree and sighed, “Shame about the tree.” The cameras, which had been disoriented since Superfluous Man lost his internet connection, were suddenly zipping around, capturing what had happened in embarrassing detail. Everyone loves a celebrity, but what everyone loves more is to witness the downfall of a celebrity. It occurred to me that this was my chance, my opportunity to put myself in the front of this story was too good to pass up. First, getting the better of Grim and now this; it was a story that was waiting to go viral. I walked purposefully towards the cameras. The cameras sensed my approach and, much like the vultures that they were, repositioned themselves to feast upon this new source of sustenance. I took a deep breath, preparing my practised baritone for the moment that would define my career. “I”, I paused, “am Rudolph. Hear my name and feel thy shame!” I was pleased with the absolute attention I had commanded; the cameras were momentarily riveted. The moment passed, and I felt I needed to make a flourishing exit to underline my appearance. I turned, twirling my cloak, allowing the head to further slide down my face and magnify the mystery I hoped I was projecting. 

This proved to be a mistake. The hood had obscured my vision, and it meant that as I tried to stride away dramatically, I crashed incongruously into a wall of Iron, that was Jeremy, who had positioned himself behind me protectively. I collapsed onto the floor in a heap of tangled cloak. Jeremy looked down. “Nice”, he clanked, through what I was sure was a grin. He lifted me up and idly swatted away a few of the cameras that had drifted too close. “I suggest you hire your own media team,” he said. 

I brooded.