[ WP ] Your extremely specific superpower finally gets to be used .

I could n't believe it. The most unlikely of coincidences, and here I was, ready to take advantage of it. It was like my entire life had lead up to here, culminating in this moment. I'd show all those other jerks at mutant school. I'd show them- useless am I? Let them watch this. Terrence Flug, or, as he preferred to be called, Professor Apocalypse ( never mind that he'd flunked out of his PhD program ), laughed maniacally as he stood beneath a statue of the town's founder, his hand on the big red button that he had assured them would destroy half of North America. 
 
 `` I am unstoppable!'' He cackled, thoroughly enjoying his moment. Watching from amidst the terrified crowd, I smiled just a tiny bit. 
 
 `` Once I destroy this sorry excuse for a continent, I will take over the world! This day, the third of April, will go down in history as the day you all fell sniveling to your knees and worshipped Professor Apocalypse!'' He let loose his evil laugh again. He really was getting good at that cackle. Much better than last time, when he'd just hiccuped, and then Flamewatch, my douche bag roommate, had set him on fire while he was distracted. 
 
 Today, he'd planned things much better. With his hand hovering inches over the button that promised to kill millions of people, not to mention cause billions in property damage, the police had their hands tied, figuratively. They surrounded the statue from under which Professor Asshat spoke, but dared not fire a shot for fear of destroying a good chunk of western civilization. My jackass classmates had their hands tied, literally. The first demand that Mr. Cork-screw-up-the-crazy-hole had made was for the police to handcuff them all in mutant-suppressant cuffs. They did not look happy about having to follow someone else's instructions for a change. So much the better. They'd get a good view of what I was about to do. 
 
 On the statue above the so-not-actually-a-Professor, a pigeon perched, cooing softly. It hopped around awkwardly, as it only had one leg, seemingly uncaring of the drama unfolding beneath it. I made eye contact across the crowd with Flamewatch. That fuckwit was always the first to point out my `` useless'' superpower. `` When are you gon na use that, huh?'' He'd say. `` When is that ever going to help you? You're barely even a mutant, you belong in *normal* school.'' Pissface. 
 
 Flamewatch glared back at me. I jerked my head in the direction of the pigeon, and enjoyed thoroughly the expression on his face when he realized what was about to go down. Who's useless now, Twizzle-cock? 
 
 I turned to stare at the one-legged pigeon, focusing on getting the timing just right. Professor Cunt-Muncher threw back his head to laugh again. Now. I concentrated on the pigeon, squinting my eyes and thinking *really hard*, using the superpower I never got to demonstrate. 
 
 The pigeon cocked its head, cooed, and released a torrent of shit from its feathery rear end, spattering all over Professor Poopy-face's eyes. Bullseye. 
 
 `` Agh, what the- ew!'' He spluttered. `` What the *fuck*- jesus!'' He bent over, spitting to get it out of his mouth and furiously wiping his eyes with the back of his lab-coat sleeve, which I knew for a fact he'd bought in a halloween shop two Octobers ago. Just as I'd hoped, the police sergeant knew an opportunity when he saw one. He and his associates leapt forwards, tackling the shit-covered shitstain to the ground. As he was lead away in cuffs, I smirked at Flamewatch. `` Whose useless now, pisslamp?'' I called across the square. For once, *I* had saved the day. I looked back at the one-legged pigeon and nodded seriously. This pigeon was truly my bro. Perhaps I should consider recruiting him as a side-kick. After all, no one could deny that I was a real superhero now, not after saving North America! I smiled as I imagined the newspaper headlines the next day. 
 
 `` Terrence `` Professor Shit-face'' Flug brought down by new hero: the Rain-Maker!'' Yes, I like that name, Rain-Maker. Or maybe, Sky-Terror! Bird-Bomber! Ah, yes, everyone would soon know how I'd saved the world with my superpower, I, the man who, on the third of every month, could make crippled pigeons shit at will.
