Standing upon a pile of broken stone and steel, Over Might looked down at his foe, who lay supine at his booted feet. Finally it was over, the years of battling had grudgingly yielded victory. The hero might now know a measure of peace since justice was at hand.
“So Doctor Power-Man, your reign of evil is now at an end! I think you’ll find it a bitter draught! “ proclaimed Over Might.
“It’s Doctor Powderman, “ replied the prone figure, “I think you have the wrong address.”
Over Might’s brow furrowed.
“This is 689 East Maple Avenue, correct?”
“689 West Maple Avenue, “ said Dr. Powderman, who now that Over Might looked closer, was dressed not as a would-be world conqueror and more in the style of a suburban dad doing some yard work. Additionally, his skin was not any sort of impregnable alloy.
“Well, this is awkward,” said Over Might.