While trying to figure out a new posting schedule for this blog (and trying to find the time to post), I thought I’d keep you guys occupied with this parody fic I wrote a while back in an attempt to poke a little innocent fun at Stan Lee’s Daredevil. While I write a lot of fanfic, I don’t normally post updates about it, since that’s a little outside the scope of this blog, and not exactly all that interesting to the average fan. Here, I’m making an exception since the idea for this fic actually came out of a comment on one of my posts. I also think that regular readers of this blog might get more out of it, than the casual fan. So I figured, what the heck? Below, you’ll find “The Return of Stilt-Man” rated T+ for a couple of erect nipples (don’t ask). 2,200 words.
All the usual disclaimers apply.
This was written as a parody of the Daredevil stories of Stan Lee.
The Return of Stilt-Man
Wilbur Day sat in his murky basement, tinkering with his favorite toy. It was, in fact, more than a toy. It was an invention, the result of a stroke of equal parts genius and villainy. Wilbur was not a cool guy, by any stretch of the word. Of course, this little tale takes place in a time before the word cool came to be widely used to describe the popular and the hip, but had it been in vogue at the time, it would not have applied to the madman with the homemade armor. But Wilbur Day also went by a different name. Wearing his powerful invention, he could go beyond the confines of normal human anatomy and common sense. Wilbur Day was Stilt-Man.
The next day he would make his return to the streets of Manhattan. The women with the pearl necklaces would run away, screaming in fear. The men would gather their suitcases and fashionably crafted umbrellas and go into hiding. There would, of course, also be children crying, a sound as pleasing to his villainous ears as the sound of an orchestra to a man of average tastes. The Stilt-Man smiled. Yes, tomorrow was going to be great. The heist he was planning was going to be different from all the others. This time, he would be successful. He had his stilts, after all. What could possibly go wrong?
Across town, Matt Murdock, sightless attorney, sat deep in thought, planning out the day ahead. At nine he would have to go into the office to start work. After getting settled in, and listening to his pudgy law partner recite the news headlines, he would spend an hour thinking about Karen Page, his secretary. If there were no clients, which seemed likely in light of his firm having handled only a handful since it opened up its doors six months earlier, he might make that two hours. After he was done wallowing in self-pity over the obvious fact that someone like Karen Page couldn’t love a sightless man like himself, he might spend an hour trading quips with Foggy Nelson – the law partner – before going to lunch. The afternoon would be spent pretending to attend to actual legal business. Yes, it would be a busy day. Very busy indeed.
The blind man thought about all this and more as he worked on an embroidered masterpiece depicting Mount Rushmore which would go over his fireplace. He didn’t particularly enjoy embroidery, but he did enjoy knowing that he could wield a needle and thread far more capably than a sighted man. Because Matt Murdock was no ordinary blind man. He was also the crimson swashbuckler without fear known as Daredevil. Still in the beginning of his career as a masked superhero, he already had many memories to reflect on. While he would rather not think about the time a themed criminal by the name of the Matador had stopped him in his tracks by throwing a small blanket over his head, he had been victorious against many other impressive foes. Those were the moments he most liked to think about.
Smiling, he put down his half-finished tapestry, and went through the door, hidden behind a bookcase in his living room, that would take him to his secret gym. Ever since the fateful day when he had pushed an old man out of the way of an oncoming truck, he had been equipped with special senses and abilities. As he made gravity-defying leaps from the parallel bars, wearing his equally gravity-defying dark sunglasses, he enjoyed the sensation of being free like a bird. If he were really lucky, maybe tomorrow would bring a hapless villain his way, so he could strut his stuff and awe the crowd with his fearless acrobatics. Little did he know that his fondest wish would turn into his worst nightmare. Somewhere in the dark recesses of the living, breathing city, the Stilt-Man watched and waited.
As Matt walked in the door to his office, Karen Page sighed with ill-disguised desire, fueled in part by the pent-up sexual energy that only a frustrated virgin like herself could feel. “Good morning, Mr. Murdock,” Karen said in a voice that sounded like sweet music to the hypersensitive ears of the sightless lawyer.
“If only he could see the love in my eyes,” Karen thought to herself. She briefly tried to imagine what life as Mrs. Murdock would be like. Should they ever decide to tie the knot, she would be the wife of one of the best trial lawyers in the country, an epithet made even more impressive by the fact that Matt had never overseen a case which had actually gone to trial. Such a life would bring glitz and glamour her way. There was also something about him, how he bravely made his way through a dark world, that spoke to her need to take care of him and just hold him in her arms. Maybe, if she was a good girl, he would let her give him a sponge bath on occasion. Karen smiled at the thought as her nipples stood in attention against the soft fabric of her silk blouse.
“Good morning partner!” Foggy smiled when he saw his best friend come in the door, though his good-natured instincts were quickly clouded by the jealousy he felt when he noticed their lovely secretary undress the blind man with her eyes. “Oh Karen, would you please put on some fresh coffee?”
Matt, now in his role as mild-mannered attorney, listened to Karen scurrying around behind him to start a fresh pot while he walked over to his desk and sat down. “Good morning, Foggy! Do we have any clients today?”
“No, not today. But don’t worry Matt, something will come up, I’m sure! Why don’t we turn on the TV like we always do and see what Spider-man is up to instead?”
“That sounds like a plan! That Spider-man always seems to be up to something, doesn’t he?” Matt gave little attention to the sound of the television broadcast, instead focusing on the woman of his dreams absent-mindedly doodling something on the pad in front of her while waiting for the phone to ring. His two hours of obsessing over the piece of nose candy in the front office had just begun. The day had certainly gotten off to a good start.
The calm was fleeting. Within moments, the quiet of the perfect spring morning was shattered by the sounds of innocent city dwellers fleeing in panic, accompanied by the thunderous footfalls of metal on pavement. It took Matt mere seconds to put the pieces together; Stilt-Man, the most impressive member of his illustrious rogues gallery had returned. His city desperately needed him, and he had to quickly think of a way out so he could change to Daredevil. He knew that there was a high likelihood that he or someone else from their office would get kidnapped by the offender in question – it had happened enough times in the past – but he couldn’t count on that this time.
“I forgot something at home!” he shouted, quickly rising to his feet. “And don’t expect me back until after lunch, you know how my kind tends to get lost.” Running for the door, he could almost feel the baffled stares of Karen and Foggy against the back of his head.
“You know, Matt has always been a little odd,” Foggy said, looking at Karen. “Even back in college, he was always such a strange guy… Oh well, how about if you and I go to lunch today, Karen?”
“Yes, Mr. Nelson. Lunch would be fine.” Karen sighed inwardly. She would miss Matt terribly while he was gone. Oh, if only he knew how he made her feel.
The streets had already erupted in chaos, and Daredevil worried that he might be too late. What would that monster think of this time? It was bad enough that he was a jewelry thief, but what if he started insulting people and molesting young mothers? No! He had to be stopped! On his way to the crime scene, signaled in the distance by frightful screams of horror, the squeal of burglary alarms and the crash of metal against glass, the crimson swashbuckler suddenly heard another cry for help.
“Oh no!” a woman’s voice rose up to him, tinged with the hurt desperation of a teenage girl stood up for senior prom. As Daredevil’s feet hit the pavement a block away from her, the smell of the hair tonic on her gentleman friend found its way to his nose.
“What is it, my darling?” the man asked.
“Oh George,” the woman answered, “there is no salt on my steak and no salt shaker in sight. Whatever will we do?!”
The joy of being able to be of service to the many lost souls of the Big Apple warmed the heart of the sightless crusader. Daredevil smiled and walked over to the young couple seated at a table of a street side eatery. “Excuse me ma’m, but I think I might be able to help you with that.” He quickly pulled out his billy club and screwed the top off. Flipping it upside down he started shaking it to dislodge the contents inside. Out came a couple of the dubious nutritional tablets he’d stocked up on a while back, along with a used band aid, and – would you believe it? – a salt shaker.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Devil!” Our ever dutiful hero could not see the face of the woman whose day he had just saved, but her voice was full of the kind of gratitude the average man may only experience once or twice in a lifetime. She sprinkled some salt on her food, before reaching up to hand it back to him.
“That’s alright little lady, you keep it. I’m trying to cut back on my gadgets anyway. I best be going now, Stilt-Man is back in town.” With that he took to the rooftops again.
Not a minute he later, he found himself in the middle of the madness created by his armored foe. He had fought this man before, some would say too many times, but this time was different. Had the long-legged tin man done something to his armor or was his sudden rise in confidence the result of something else? As the little guy in red threw himself at one of the long stilts which swung like a heavy pendulum through the crowd, Stilt-Man seemed undeterred, his new vacuum device sucking up jewelry and rare antiques all along the street.
Wilbur Day looked down toward the ground and found what looked like a small red figure attached to his elongated leg. From this distance, he looked cute in his own way, and the man on the stilts couldn’t restrain a laugh at the expense of his pathetic adversary. That Daredevil was such a clown.
Desperate for something which might bring the metal giant to a stop, the scarlet swashbuckler focused all his senses and looked for a weakness in the armor. Within moments, he though he heard something. Yes! A screw was loose in one of the joints which held the pieces of the suit together, and Daredevil started climbing his way up until his hypersensitive hand landed on a partially dislodged screw head. Pulling it out, he felt the metal around it begin to buckle, and as he landed gracefully on the street below, Stilt-Man came crashing down.
The triumph was complete! The police arrived to take Wilbur Day away, and the crowd of men, women, and children came up to greet the hero of the day. Before they had the chance to start pestering him for autographs, Daredevil made a discrete exit. He didn’t have time to let the whole day go to waste. After all, he had hours of pretending to do legal work ahead of him at the office, and Foggy and Karen would surely be worried by now. Changing back into his civilian clothes, he walked back to the office where he found Foggy waiting, alone.
“Matt, you’re back! You’re not going to believe what just happened!”
“What is it, Foggy? Where’s Karen?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, buddy. She’s been kidnapped!”
“What, again? By whom?”
“Leap-Frog, I think! But it’s the third time this month, what if she doesn’t want to work here anymore?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, Foggy. Where else could a girl make that much money doing absolutely nothing?”
“You’re right about that, but what are we going to do? We need to call someone!”
“That we do, my friend. That we do… Just let me catch my breath first.” Matt sighed. This had started out as such a great day. What was the world coming to?