[ WP ] Write the superhero origin story of your username

Healthy Body, Healthy Mind. 
 
 Seems cliche, yes, but it's actually extraordinary if you think about it. A balanced meal not only nourishes your flesh and blood, but also fuels your brain - giving it power to bring about innovations, think critically, and question the world around you. 
 
 Given this, its no surprise that The Synodic Federation, a oligarchy of Earth's richest businesses that consolidated to form a governing body circa 2087, did not look kindly upon a populace that asked too many questions. 
 
 We never thought a day would come when a buncha money-grubbing swines would take over every facet of our lives. But ya see, most governments of the past, such as democracies, were inefficient. Everyone claimed they wanted achieve societal welfare, true, but there were conflicting opinions on how to achieve said welfare. Some unscrupulous individuals did n't even care about that goal and used duplicitous measures to line their own pockets. parties fought parties, interest groups clashed against interest groups, and nations with conflicting interests engaged in diplomatic gridlocks with one another while the globe plunged into a hellhole, racked with famine, disease, and pollution. So when the SynFs announced their bid for world leadership, the people, myself included, ate it up. We let those damn pigs into power. heh... 
 
 Ah crap, I didnta mean to give you a lesson in history of the mid 21st century. So, back to the subject. 
 
 Where were we? Ah yes... 
 
 So what I was getting at was that the Synodic Federation, ( we call'em the SynFs for short, but do n't get caught sayin' it in the public or you'll get fined ) focused on one thing: soaring to ever higher echelons of wealth. When the damn SynFs realized they got ta have a obedient, dumb population after the Second Haymarket Riots. Cutting wages in half and making people work 4 hours longer in the name of the'greater good' pissed a whole lotta folks off. I mean, it woulda've taken a moron to buy what those bastards were sellin', ya know? 
 
 So after that, those SynFs got a whole lot cunning. They announced minimum income and guaranteed rations for everyone. Fuck all of us for buying it up. We thought better days had come. They all assured since the people had spoken, trickle down economics finally ensured none of us would go hungry again. 
 
 We were idiots to believe them. 
 
 No one questioned what the grey mystery goop that arrived at our doorstep each month was. Hey, as much as it felt like wet paper pulp, we could n't complain. Despite the monotony of the goop, the memory of the famine days were still fresh in our minds. Plus, the thing tasted great, and we felt filled up and hearty after. And as far as we could tell, the stuff was n't junk food either; it actually had all the stuff our body needed to endure 12 hour workdays and such. 
 
 Nobody actually noticed everyone was becoming sluggish, unquestioning, and obedient until it was too late. Ya see, the grey goop had all the core nutrients to build our bodies, but those damn SynFs left it devoid of any micronutrients - stuff like fresh vitamins - that aided in brain development. When the word got out, the people... did nothing. In the days past, we would have taken to the streets, going on strikes, and hitting them where it hurt them most: their wallets. But now? the guys ate the bullcrap they were feeding us. Working 12 hours + overtime without pay builds character. We had to remove safety equipment for the good of the company, and what's good for the company is good for you. The general propaganda bullcrap that would have never stood a chance a scant 10 years ago was rapidly becoming the truth, the whole truth, and the only truth to the masses. 
 
 I would have become one of them, a musclebound idiot, a human workhorse, if my daughter, Wynn - who was in the know because she had one of them posh white collar jobs that actually required people to think - had n't snuck out of her Researcher Ward and gave me the heads up. 
 
 When some fringe citizen groups became aware of this, the SynFs destroyed the vegetable fields and the orchards en masse to make space for'industrial applications' - total bullshit - and put the industrial complexes in a lockdown, effectively segregating the uneducated laborers from those in the know. The deed was done. The invisible hand of the free market gave us the middle finger as cost of fresh fruits and other produce skyrocketed, putting them out of the reach of the people. 
 
 I had to act. 
 
 Wynn helped me out a great deal. She had a degree in mechanical engineering and rigged our family home's basement with rows upon rows of hydroponic devices, and we both spent countless hours rummaging through the piles of food waste in the city garbage disposal dump to salvage any seeds, pits, or just anything that will grow into a plant, under the moon's pale glow. 
 
 If there's one good news from all this, it's that our plans are bearing fruition ( no pun intended ). And ironically, havin folks be dumb as a sack of rock hammers helped out a lot too. You can just walk in while they're having dinner and just act like someone in charge as you mix the fruit extract and pulp into their goop. They'll eat it up - both the disguise and the food. 
 
 The SynFs got a whiff of what was going on, and they tried their damnest to stop us: Mandatory Curfews, random goop checks where a buncha MPs would burst in and scan your food for any traces of vitamins, public executions... 
 
 But to hell with them, it was already too late. 
 
 Our little scheme that started out in a cramped 14 by 14 basement has grown to a full blown operation that stretches across 15 districts ( well, back in our days, we called em states ), with millions of households participating. 
 
 I'm just a frail old retiree by day, a sun-baked jerky of a man that used to make a living out of tending orchards in the valleys of Central California ( Now known as Industrial Complex AX35G11-Beta after they burnt down everything ), but at night, I roam the streets, carving a swath of vital nutrients across the malnourished urban landscape. For now, we will bide our time until we spread like weeds during planting season during summer, and our ranks swell like a sun-ripened apple. I am Fruit Dealer, and in time, I will deal a fatal blow to the oligarchy that for so long, kept us repressed.
