[ WP ] The hero beats the villain by stooping even lower .

The bright flare of the camera flash was dazzling. The roar of celebration was deafening. The tumultuous energy of the crowd, of the people of New York, of America - nay, of the entire world - expressed itself from every person, every television, every radio. The glee and joy was palpable, and the news was tantamount: The Evil Lord Quar'glon had been defeated, and by some high-school kid, none-the-less. It was like the movies;'It's Victory Day!' came the British Broadcast; from France,'Fête de la victoire!'; Germany,'Tag des Sieges!', and so on. Around the world, at every time, from Uganda to Hawaii and Fiji to the Philippines; confetti, fanfare and dancing took to the streets, flags were waved, songs were sung. Every camera was pointed at the door of the ruined building, where they knew He would emerge - the good, the brave, the hero-driven-by-strict-moral-principles-who-would-be-the-icon-of-the-just. He would be true, he would be honest, he would be fair. The door opened. 
 
 Out stepped the Hero. The sounds of jubilation rose into a tremendous crashing wave. The young man blinked into the dazzling, ear-splitting spotlight. The world greeted him with a new name -'Hero Guy! Held Kerl! Герой парень!' and so forth. Seven and a half billion happy, joyous faces and ears turned, after an hour's greeting, to Hero Guy, waiting to hear what he had to say. 
 
'Uh... Hello...' 
 
 They could n't hear him, they did n't care: Rapturous applause exploded forth, enough to kill a few birds in the nearby vicinity of almost everyone everywhere, 
 
'Ehem... um... yes, hello... everyone...' 
 
 The sound died down. The crowd became silent. Nobody moved. Then, a small child tottered out of the crowd, holding a microphone and a small flower. The cameras snapped to him, to his precious baby-blue eyes, and his innocent infant's smile. The crowd aww'ed; the boy's mother picked up the tiny tot, and brought him forward, tears glazed upon her face and a hard, blazing look of triumph in her eyes. She was beautiful. The boy placed the flower in the Hero's hair, and gingerly, tentatively, the Hero took the microphone. The pair backed off, smiling at him. 
 
'Uh...' 
 
 Silence. Like almost every awkward speech ever, the feedback from the mic rose and fell, making him flinch. The silence stretched again for a moment, with a couple of people shouting praise,'You're awesome, man!','You're the bomb!','Gracias, amigos!'. 
 
'Yes... well...' 
 
'How did you do it, Awesome Hero Dude!?!' 
 The crowd cheered, but only for forty minutes. They settled into a sense of wonder and excitement. 
 
'Well... you know... he...' 
 
 He paused. He took a deep breath. *like a plaster, quick and fast*, he thought. 
 
'... Well, you know, he was doing his villain thing. You know, he captured my family, told me where to find him, trapped me and imprisoned me and everything, right?' 
 
 The crowd tittered - this was shaping up to be something stupendous. Really, very exciting. 
 
'... Right; so, he brings me up to the highest room, right? and there's a hole in the wall... real big, can see the whole city. Looks like it was mostly on fire. Kind of still is, we should probably get out of he- no? carry on? Yes, right, Um, so he... he...' 
 He paused. *Plaster, plaster, plaster, plaster, pla-* 
 
'... So he starts talking about his evil plan, right? and I'm right in front of him, and... and my family's in danger, so... so I kind of...' 
 The crowd was on tenterhooks - this was almost too much. 
 
'... So I just kinda kicked him in the nuts.' 
 
 The crowd stared at him. He went on, 
 
'He fell out the hole in the wall, he's somewhere', he waved vaguely,'somewhere roughly over there. I mean... so...' 
 
 The crowd was silent. Faces un-composed themselves, eyes did back flips. Mouths fluttered, and hands wandered in sudden confusion. People blinked in bemusement, murmured and babbled in quiet conversations with themselves. For a moment, nobody did anything except flounder. A child began to cry. The Hero Guy looked rather bashful. 
 
'I did n't even think he had balls, you know, being an alien warlo-' 
 
'That's fuckin low, man'. It was the mother of the child, pointing a finger at him with sudden distaste,'That's fuckin reeeeeal low, buddy'.'Why would you... why would you do that?' A policeman standing at the front of the crowd was staring at him for what seemed the first time.'Sacrebleu!' came another, distant shout. A man a few rows back turned around, and pushed through the crowd. To an American collegue, he shouted audibly,'Ziz iz really too much. I mean, in ze ballz... Zat iz redicule!' 
 
'**THAT** was your **grand plan**?' The Hero's girlfriend, who had been captured, came forward.'THAT was what you had planned, what you told me would work?'Trust me', you said,'trust me - I have a plan'. What the Fuck, Chad? You're such an asshole.' *Chad*. The word broke the spell. The name went racing across the crowd through word of mouth as people muttered and whispered and generally mulled it over with an air of anti-climactic'oh'-ness. *Fuckin Chad... *. Slowly - very slowly - the crowd dispersed. The world turned off it's television sets, and settled back in disappointment. Radios were silenced, as the hosts of Radio Shows began earnest and engaged talks on exactly the kind of person to kick a man in the balls during his final, glorious - albeit evil - speech. Politicians began writing extensive, slanderous campaigns to let the public know that they would never kick anyone in the balls, least of all their voters. Children sat in living rooms as parents gently took their Hero Guy action figures from them, and they did n't complain. Someone, somewhere, gave a snorting snigger, and were quickly given several sharp glances - until the joke was dropped. 
 
 Hero Guy stood alone, saviour of the world and maybe the universe, contemplating his actions. Saviour of the universe, maybe - but at what cost? 
 
 At what cost...
