Mike's Ficticious Life (Volume 1)

Mike was driving home from work one day, after having a few drinks of whiskey because of the inevitable capitulation to his coworker's peer pressure. He was feeling irritated at having to deal with the other drivers on the road and honked at jaywalking college students about every five minutes as thoughts of vehicular homocide ran rampant. The streets were filled with the spring break returned academians; those single minded ones filling out the ranks of the white collar workforce; a work force that Mike would retain his spite for for endless days until his withdrawal from this world into the next from slipping on a cheese Danish thrown aside by a cohabitant of his senior center.

He of course had a love-hate relationship with those people filling the streets. Both rage at their cooperation with the dulling hammer of society and a human kinship which made him want the same things they wanted: money, women, power, free time; welled up inside of him, thrashing wildly like the Boundry waters of the Canada-US border not too far to the north.

Over the years Mike tended his garden of hatred, as he carefully finicked over his Forget-Me-Nots and Narcissus flowers, a sheltered beauty germinated within. Inside all that whirling chaos a perfect storm was revealed. Every aspect was so perfectly fitted that the noise led to more noise which led to light. A single spark formed in his head that lit up the skies and crashing down came a meteorite igniting the streets around him, a conflagration consuming the trees houses cars signs everything was up in flames but why was Mike, crouched with head down in the rubble of his Oldsmobile, ok? Why did the inferno heat but not char? What was this new-found imperviousness to the world around him? Had something spectacular happened? Yes, it must be. Kinetic powers rippled through his veins and out from his fingertips. Mike had become the Meteor Man!

...You can't stop this, you can't stop this.

Ain't Nobody Bad Like The Meteor Man - Bit Hat Ray Ray