FREDDY CECIL MIGHT BECOME A HERO

Freddy wakes up, mouth dry and tongue feeling swollen.

"Guess I drank too much at the lake yesterday," he mumbles, mushmouthed.

Groggily, he knocks his sketchbook off the nightstand before entering the bathroom to relieve himself, then washes his hands and opens his mouth to inspect his teeth before his morning brushing.

Where his tongue should be, a cream colored isopod sits looking back at Freddy with beady little eyes while rubbing its front limbs together.

Freddy recoils back, breaking the drywall behind him.

"Sorry about the introduction, kid," he says, voice New York rough. "And the whole replacing your tongue thing. But symbiotic relationships always start a bit awkwardly."

"Symbiotic? My tongue is gone!"

"Perhaps a demonstration of the benefits then. Let's go for a run."

One mile. Four minutes.

Another in three.

On impulse, Freddy jumps on top of a five foot wall, backflips off, and lands perfectly.

"How you feeling, kid?"

"Better than ever."

"That's just the start. You are now functioning physically beyond peak human performance. You'll soon be thinking faster. Skin'll be like armor. Nigh invulnerable, but not immortal, so don't get reckless."

"So what do you want from me?"

"This planet and dimension ain't got a monopoly on bad. Got a lot of interdimensional beings popping in here through water portals and such, and we are going to hunt them down. I believe in you kid, even though you did fumble it bad with Amelia yesterday."

"That's definitely not happening now with you as my tongue."

"Think of all the time you'll have to fight crime now."

"We'll need a costume and a name. Can't have the government, and other criminals, knowing who I really am."

"Knew I could count on you kid! What's our getup gonna be?"

"I've got a few ideas."