The  secret origin  of...

Duncan Monroe smiled as he walked back to his apartment, his hand resting firmly on his cane as his groceries dangled from his other arm.  He was too old to be intrigued by the flashing eyes and dimpled smile of the plump young woman who rang him up at the checkout counter.  But much like an old dog who still dreams of hunting, Duncan appreciated them just the same.  So it was on Vonda's face he was concentrating when he walked right into a neighborhood junkie.

Even standing still, the drugs and adrenaline had Kenneth in constant motion, waving the switchblade rapdily at a square of air.  "Give me your money, old man.  I need it."

"Shoot.  I need it.  And besides, I spent it.  You can't get blood from a turnip."  Duncan slowly lowered his groceries down to the ground as he talked, his grip tightening on his cane.

"I'll get blood from you if you don't give it."

"That's not such a good idea," said a voice from the fire escape.  Lewis turned to see a man in an all black bodysuit standing on the underside of the fire escape, his head pointing straight down.  Across the chest of the body suit were two white insect wing silhouettes.  Dangling from his shoulders to the ground was a cape, cut to look also like two insect wings.  On his head he wore a no-holes black ski mask with big, round mirrored lenses for eyes.  As Kenneth strained his drug-clouded eyeballs for a good look, Duncan smacked him hard across the head with his cane.  Duncan then chopped down hard with the cane on Kenneth's shoulder, sending the knife skittering down the sidewalk.  Duncan smacked him broadly across the sternum and then just missed connecting with the head again as Kenneth fled across the street in panic.

Duncan picked up his groceries.  "Thanks for the help," he said to the stranger.

"Didn't look like you needed any help to me"

"Thank you anyway."

The "fly" guy flew off of the metal cage and landed next to Duncan.  "You mind if I walk you the rest of the way home?  Just as a precaution?"

"Sure.  Come on."

Duncan poured himself a tall glass of lemonade and sat down at his kitchen table eyeballing his beneficent guest.  "So what do you call yourself, fly guy?"

"That sounds just as good as anything else.  Call me Fly Guy."

"First, do you want some lemonade?  Second, how did you become this 'mystery man?'"

"No thank you on the lemonade.  As to the other, would you believe I was bitten by a radioactive fly?"

"Not even if you paid me.

"Well then, let me tell you a little story..."

Staff Sergeant Leonard Thomas was just a month away from being discharged with honors from the United States Air Force.  His last duty assignment was to stand in front of a door and let only a few select people pass.  Usually this was Airman level duty, but he knew there was something really important behind that door and his hitch was almost up, so he didn't balk, even though his commander was a large pain in the backside.  Of course, when you are trying to finish something like this out, an obstacle comes in the way.  This time, like most, it came in the form of his cousin Walter.  Walter lived in Midwest City, just outside of which the airbase was.  Walter fancied himself hustler but his hustles generally seemed to backfire on him.  Len put up with him the best he could, given that he was the only "brother" Len would have, as Len was raised by his aunt after his parents died.  His aunt called him, frantic because Walter had doublecrossed the kind of people who dice you up and throw you in the river if you doublecross them.  They had come to his aunt's house looking for him and left a message with her saying he was next. They also left his aunt some reminders of the kind of men they were by breaking picture frames, knick knacks, and vases, letting her know that if she lied about where he was, they would be back to break her.  Len requested a twenty-four hour liberty so he could find the moron and beat him up himself before the hoods did, however the commander denied it.  So Len took a shining military career and threw it in the trash; he went AWOL.  He found Walter stuffing twenty-dollar bills into various body parts of scantily clad women.  Before Len could either warn him or smack him around (Len hadn't decided which,) three hoods came in.  One flashed a sign to the strip club bouncer and the man stayed put.  The other two went for Walter.  Len grabbed the one man by the arm, twisted it behind his back, and threw him into the second man.  Len picked up the gun that had flown free and aimed it at the sign-flasher.  Len then ordered Walter to give him all the money he had left.  Walter reluctantly handed it over.  Walter asked how close it was to what Walter took.  Mr. Sign said it was almost all of it.  Len said they were square.  Sign said Walter had to learn a lesson.  Len smacked Walter hard in the face, knocking him out.  Sign said they were square, but that Len had better keep Walter away from their boss.  Len said he would.

Len tried to get back on base and to his post on time, but he missed reveille and was discovered.  Strangely, his commander almost seemed happy with Len's infraction.  Then he was asked to come inside the door he had been guarding.  That's when he saw the stealth suit.  The all-black suit was powered by Energy X and contained special para-magnets in the gloves and soles which allowed the wearer to cling to any surface. It also increased the wearer's strength and used other reverse polarity para-magnets and a cybernetic helmet to allow the wearer to fly.  Len's only chance to avoid a dishonorable discharge was to become the government's special agent wearing the suit.  In essense, he would be a hero for the government.  He would be paid a stipend and would only go on missions when they came for him.  Otherwise he was free to fight crime and lead a normal life.  Len agreed to the deal on the condition that an agent be given the permanent assignment of saving his cousin Walter from himself.  The commander agreed.  Len regretted that clause when he found out the agent they assigned that duty to was Staff Sergeant Leonard Thomas.

Fly Guy finished telling Duncan the story, omitting the names.  "I came up with the whole 'Fly' motif myself, since the suit was black and all.  They came up with a cape I can para-magnetize to my butt to keep it out of the way during fights.  I moved into this neighborhood, so I could be near Walter, and the rest is history."

"I have one question, though: what's a white guy like your cousin doing living in this neighborhood?"

"My cousin's not white."

"But you are, right?"

"No."

"Come on.  You sound white to me."

"I'm black.  I'm blacker than you are.  Can't you see?

"Your costume is black."

Fly Guy took off the hood.  "I'm black.  Not every black person sounds like Snoop Doggy Dog, you know."

"You have a point."

Fly Guy put the ski mask back on, then went to the front door.  "If you see me around, you can talk to me like you know me. Just don't talk about Fly Guy, all right?"

Duncan nodded in agreement as Fly Guy flew down the stairwell of his building.  "I still say he sounds pretty white for a 'Fly Guy.'"

Finis