The Coming of Rat Man part 1
by Silver Shocker

One lonely night, in the dark streets of the crime-ridden Patriot City, a petty robbery had been committed, and as usual, the owner of the purse would yell out "Somebody, help me!" or something of the sort. Not surprisingly, the two thugs ducked into an alley to avoid being caught, but this particular alley just so happened to be the wrong one for them.

"Good work, Bugsy, we got the loot! Looks like a good nights work to me!" the one thug exclaimed to the other.

"You know it, daddio! What a payoff this...." Suddenly the thug stopped talking, words ceased to escape his mouth as a figure moved out slightly from the shadows just enough for the thugs to see he's there, but not enough to make out who, or what, he was.

The stranger bellowed out a low, hoarse warning, "I don't think so pal, not in my alley."

"Who the heck is that?" the speechless thug finally managed to say.

"I dunno, but he's about to be history, plug em!!" the other answered.

The thugs were about to pull out their pistols, when the stranger spoke again, this time what sounded like a series of high-pitched squeaks or possibly a different language.

"What is that he's saying? Sounds like he's talking gibberish."

"Who cares? He'll be singing his last song in a second!" The thug aimed his gun and fired.

Or rather, would have fired, but upon closer examination, he realized there was a really large rat clinging to his gun. He then felt something near his leg.

Looking down the thugs both saw that at their legs were a whole swarm of large gray alley rats. More rats then any self-respecting thug would ever imagine existed around the alley he just happens to escape to.

The thugs screamed out in fear as rats started biting at their ankles, clinging to their arms, scratching at their faces... it was like one of those old black and white horror or sci-fi pictures from the sixties, "Attack of the Killer Rats", and this is set in the sixties, so it works fine.

Dropping the purse of sheer not caring about it anymore, the thugs ran out of the alley screaming, and stopped just outside the alley when they realized the rats got off them and returned to the alley. For the moment, they were safe again.

"What the hell WAS that? I mean, WHAT WAS THAT?!!!" the one thug barely managed to gasp between deep breaths.

"Dunno, but I ain't leaving without the green," Bugsy barked back. He then pointed a shaking, rat-bitten finger at his companion and gasped, "Go....hagh...back...hagh...and get....hagh....THE PURSE!"

They response came not from his partner-in-crime but from a different, albeit familiar voice. "Think again, boys."

The thugs turned around to meet a strong fist to each face. They now could see their assailant, save for a second before they fell. They stumbled and fell backwards, one of them muttering under his breath, "...Stupid...Heroes!"

What the thugs had seen before being knocked unconscious was a short man with an oily, messy hair that was flung all over the place. He wore nothing but a cloth of leopard-skin design, draped around him like a toga. This made him look very much like a shorter, more ugly version of Tarzan. Tied around his neck was a tattered cape of the same design.

This mysterious stranger then proceeded to call the police from a payphone. (Oddly enough, he stole the quarter from the purse) and then went looking for the owner of the purse to return it to her, hoping for thanks.

Instead, all the young lady could say was, "Pee-yew, you smell like the city dump, and just look at those ratty clothes! You're no member of that Freedom Force team. Who are you?"

Undaunted by her disgust (he was used to it) the strange hero stood proudly, held his hands to his hips and boldly exclaimed...

"You can call me Ratman, the Homeless Hero!

To be continued...

Ratman created by Mark