[ WP ] You are a superhero with dissociative identity disorder . Each personality you have has different powers .

I flew out over my city, my eyes trailing the red ‘ 64 Impala below me. A grimace was worn across my face as I made out the hoodlums in the vehicle. These reefer smoking vandals had defaced public property. My taxes had paid for that bus stop bench, and I ’ d see to it that these ne ’ er-do-wells cleaned off the spray paint themselves. 
 
 With a swift dip, I gained speed. Cold air ran across me, giving me goosebumps, despite the fact I ’ d worn a sweater to deal with the icy air. Soon I was street level flying next to the ‘ 64. Traffic went wild as people swerved away from the flying man between the traffic lanes. I screamed out over the rushing wind “ Pullover, you street trash! ” 
 
 The driver of the impala was a young man, his hat a snapback and worn slightly off. His shirt had the devil ’ s lettuce on it, and his friend was puffing on another one of those reefers. The driver, finally noticing me on his left, screamed and accidently yanked the wheel crashing his car into a street sign. 
 
 “ Jesus have mercy! ” I screamed, tumbling onto the ground in a rough landing. My pants and clothes slightly torn, I stood up and ran over to the wreck, checking on two hoods. They were fine but shocked. 
 
 “ What the fuck man! ” The driver called out, looking at me. “ You made me wreck my fucking car. You mark-ass flying bitch! ” He screeched, spit flying at me. I felt anger flood me. Red infused into my face. 
 
 “ Hand that blunt over. ” I said, my voice going chilly as I ignored the driver. His passenger had gone pale, and he leaned over to the driver and whispered into his ear. But I could still make out what he said, barely. 
 
 “ Dude, it ’ s that fucking schitzo freak they got all over the news. ” He said, his hand with the slightest shake to it as he looked at me. 
 
 “ I said, pass me the blunt. Come on cuz. ” My eyes narrowed, focusing on the weed in his hand. It ’ d been awhile since I ’ d smoked, and if I was gunna ice these bitches, I ’ d mineswell do it while high as fuck. Reacting immediately the passenger passed me the blunt, his hand now visibly trembling as I took it. 
 
 I put it to my lips, taking in a deep breath of that sweet ganja. I let out a puff of smoke, a smile taking over my face. “ Aight. Ready for a ride? ” I said, looking at the two, still smoking their weed. 
 
 “ What? ” Asked the driver in a confused tone, and I marked a tinge of fear in it. I met his question with a smile, and stepped back from the car, rearing my leg back. Suddenly it lurched forward, slamming into the car and denting the driver's door, but ultimately launching the vehicle into the air. 
 
 It crashed about fifteen yards away, in somebody ’ s lawn. “ Prepare to get your ass kicked by Chino the Amazing! ” I screamed, still puffing on the blunt. Slowly I walked over to the car. 
 
 My eyes went wide as I noticed a reefer cigarette in my hand and tossed it to the ground. “ Gross! The devil's grass! ” The crash must have been worse than I thought, somehow the car had tumbled over and there was a giant dent in the Impala ’ s driver side. I flew up to the working door, and jangled it open. Extending my hand in, I screamed out “ Grab my hand hoodlums, I shall save you! ” 
 
 “ Oh fuck no ” declared the driver, bleeding from a head wound. He kicked at the front windshield and broke it open. He and his friend tumbled out and began running away from me. I stood on top of the sideways car, watching them flee. I supposed that I ’ d let them go, they ’ d learned their lesson. 
 
 How the fuckers had gotten out and started running I had no clue. Whatever, Chino wasn ’ t about to let those fuckers get away. I hopped off the side of the car, and grabbed it, my muscles straining as I lifted it above my head. “ Get murked, bitch! ” I screamed, hurling the car. It crashed into a building near them, but I had missed the target. 
 
 Quickly I took off after them, no one disrespects Chino.
