Meet My Evil In-law, Super Dad

• Brittany Hyder, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2009

Sitting in my Laz-e-boy I looked at my scuffed and damaged slippers on my feet.
I grunted as I moved to a more comfortable position. One butt cheek making a little room for its large pal. I’m a retired super hero. No one needs a fat, bald man to save them from a burning house. They wanted my younger 20-30’s self who had been well built, good looking with charms and wit to boot. Gone were those days. LONG gone. I never had a weight problem but now that I had reached my 60’s my weight had reached the “obese” level. My chiselled chin had been taken over by three more large chins. I still had my super powers. Laser vision and super strength.
I heard the doorbell and, grunting from exertion, removed my large 130kg self from the groaning chair and waddled towards the door. Opening the door I was greeted by my young blonde daughter, Alice. Alice was like her mother, tall graceful and beautiful super girl that men wanted and women envied.
“Hey Pops, what have you been up to,” she said inviting herself into my apartment. I was closing the door when the toe of an expensive black shoe stuck itself in between the closing space.
“Hey, Mr. Super, don’t forget me,” exclaimed my daughter’s boyfriend and my archenemy’s son, David Diabolical, tall, handsome, regal and extremely intelligent entered into my line of view. I suppressed a groan of despair and grinned feebly. Then the grin left my face when I saw behind David was David’s father and my worst enemy Dr. Diabolical moved into my line of view.
“Hello Mr. Super, long time since we last meet,” Dr. Diabolical remarked when he entered my apartment. He smirked at the sight before him. I never clean the apartment since Mrs. Super died feeling that I could live in the filth and that it was a great way to keep people from visiting me. Empty pizza boxes lay forgotten where they landed, beer bottles sat on any free flat surfaces.
“Dad it’s ok, I invited him here so we can tell you both the good news,” Alice said then grabbing David’s hand she turned to us and proudly exclaimed. “We’re getting married.”
I was shocked. I turned to see if Dr. Diabolical knew of the upcoming nuptials. Obviously from his livid face and the way his eyes were bugging out of his skull he did not know.
“IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU STUPID FAT MAN!” cried Dr. Diabolical as he lunged at me. I reacted to this attack and before Dr. Diabolical knew it he was on the other side of the thin concrete wall in old Mrs. Knitters apartment next door.
“Sorry kiddo,” I said to Alice, “but as for me I have no problem with the marriage. But thank goodness there is side for the bride’s family and for the groom’s,” I added sheepishly as I watched as poor Dr. Diabolical was attacked with Mrs. Knitter’s batted umbrella.