Johnny Panic Season 1

My name is Walter Toner. My friends call me Walt, Tone, T., T-Bone, Dub, or Wally. You can call me Johnny Panic. I am what every man dreams of being and what every woman dreams of getting. I am rich, famous, and have superpowers. Well, they're not really super but no one else has them, so there. Everything you want, I have. Then why am I sitting in a therapist's office?

"What makes you happy, Johnny?" Dr. Greensban asked. How do you respond to a question like that? I want to tell him the truth.

Getting high off of glue makes me happy. Having sex three times with three different girls in one day make me happy. Watching children fall makes me happy. Rubbing my crotch across stoplights makes me happy. Eating until I puke makes me happy. Staring at a chick's boobs while they pick things up makes me happy. Chewing my toenails makes me happy.

"Flowers" I lie. Sounds like a good enough answer.

"It's your money" Dr. Greensban replied. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" I ask.

"I get $1,500 an hour from you whether you tell the truth or not. So sit here and lie if you wish. It makes absolutely no difference to me."

"That's a horrible thing to say to one of your patients" I tell him.

"Client" Dr. Greensban corrects me. "You are not a patient."

"Whatever" I say. "I don't like coming here anymore than you like seeing me here. But everyone says I need therapy so here I am. Now make me better."

"Sorry" Dr. Greensban says. "Time's up. See you next week. Same time?"

I head outside and brace myself for them. My fans. The public. They love me. You'd think that I would be grateful for all of this love. But it's not real love, you know? I was in love once. And it was real. This news copter was going down and I saved a reporter moments before it crashed to the ground. Yeah, the pilot died, but whatever. I saved her. And she was hot. Not the normal kind of hot. You can get that anywhere here in L.A. She was that homegrown kind of hot. She held me tight as I ran from the flames. It felt like sunshine. I told my best friend Zazz this story and he called me stupid for three weeks. Dangling someone from the top of the US Bank building will stop anyone from calling you anything. Anyway, her name was Athynia. She was Indian or something. Hot. Skin the color of caramel. Lips as dark as chocolate.

Damn, I'm hungry.

We split when she saw a photo of me and Carmen Electra at The Viper Room. I wasn't dating Carmen Electra. I was just banging her. Totally innocent. So she broke up with me on air and posted pictures of me nude on the internet. I didn't care. I look good. But it was what she tried to do to me that pissed me off. I picked up her condo and dropped it in the L.A River. She tried to sue me for property damage, mental stress, and loss wages. Please. I'm Johnny Panic. The people love me. Oh, yeah. That's what I was talking about.

I was in love with this chick and she broke my heart. I know it wasn't right to sleep with Carmen Electra, but what did you expect me to do? I am only a man. Yes, a perfect man, but a man nonetheless. No one would pass up the chance to sleep with her. Even just actual sleeping with her would be a blessing. Either way I decided not to ever fall in love again. Yeah. I believe that falling in love is a totally conscience decision that we make. If I can decide not to fall in love then I can decide to fall in love. Such is the life of Johnny Panic.

I open the lobby door and am blinded by flashes from cameras. I hate them all. I despise them. They make me sick. I could sweep them all up in moments and drop them from the sky. Laughing like a coked up squirrel while they exploded when they hit the ground. But I won't. That's not how I operate. Instead I smile and pose for pictures. They love me.

Why don't you?

***

A man can only do so much. Today I have to shoot three commercials, two radio spots, and make five appearances at junior high schools. When was the last time you went to see some junior high kids? I don't see how the teachers do it. I already know that the girls will dress extra slutty for me. The boys will act all mad but wish they were in my position. But before I do any of that crap I have to meet up with Zazz.

Zazz has been my bestest friend since we were toddlers. He was with me when I discovered I was super. He's not all that good looking but he isn't a freak. One of those guys that make you look better just by standing next to him. Which is impossible. How could I possibly look better? I seriously think that even if I were standing next to Jesus I would get more attention. Zazz says statements like that just add to the list of reasons that when I die I will be rocketed to Hell. He says Jesus will place an actual rocket on my back and aim me there. I point out that Jesus never knocked a bull out with his thumb. Zazz points out that I have never turned water into wine. I tell him that I don't like wine. He tells me I'm a dick. Seriously, this can go on for hours. Zazz is cool.

I sometimes have him double as my bodyguard. Yeah, it's kinda like Batman having security but my agent thought that it would help me with the 18-35 male and 23-47 female crowds. I tend to end up saving Zazz more often than he could save me. I think he just uses being rough with people as an excuse to grab chick's boobs. Zazz has no shame. Except when it comes to his real name.

"Oswald, let's get some snacks" I tell him from the backseat of my SUV. This thing is fucking ridiculous. It gets something like 13 miles to the gallon. But it looks cool. It's black with a gray stripe down the side. It has lights and shit underneath. Zazz says that he once heard the ozone tearing above us when we got stuck in traffic.

"Don't call me fucking Oswald!" he shouts. He ends up spitting on the steering wheel and groans in disgust. Zazz is a germaphobe of the highest order. He takes a wet nap and wipes the wheel clean. Twice. "I don't run around calling you Walter in public."

"We're not in public, Oswald" I tell him. I love pushing his buttons. He makes it too easy. "We're in a car."

"Damn it, Panic!" Oswald screamed. He checked the wheel for saliva. "The fucking car is in public, okay? Stop fucking with me."

"Are you hungry?" I ask. "I am. Let's get something. Want a cookie? I bet you want a cookie."

"No" he said shortly. "I'm watching my weight."

"I've been watching your weight for years" I tell him as I lay flat in the back seat. I spread myself out and let my feet hang out of the window. "Afraid you'll explode one day. I can't stop you from exploding, Zazz."

"I thought you could do anything" Zazz says. Smartass. "I bet Jesus could stop me from exploding."

"Oh, we're back on that again?" I said as I sat up quickly and sling my arms over the passenger seat. "Do you want me and Jesus to go at it? Is that what you want?"

"I'm just saying" Zazz smirked. "Jesus was a great man."

"I'm greater" I replied. I actually knew this to be true. "I can walk on water. Jesus couldn't fly, though."

"What about...?" Zazz began.

"Fuck you and that whole wine shit" I said before he could finish his sentence. "Any Vegas magician can do that. Wanna see me try it?"

"No" Zazz said. He sounded defeated but I wasn't done. I was sick of hearing about Jesus and his wine.

"Let's go to the liquor store" I told him.

"What are you doing, Panic?" Zazz asked. "Are you going to buy all their wine until you figure out how to make it from water?"

"Maybe I will" I told him. "But I want some chips as well. Want some chips, Zazz?"

"I already told you that I'm watching my weight!" Zazz screamed. "You don't listen. Did you know that? That's the root of all your problems. You just talk and talk but you never hear what anyone says to you. Panic? Panic, are you listening to me?"

"Did you see that chick?" I ask. I heard Zazz. I just am not in the mood for existential thought right now. I just wanted some damned chips, not a lecture. "Have I banged her?"

"I don't keep a list of who you fucked and who you didn't, Panic" Zazz says as he tries to check her out as well.

"You should" I tell him. "You know I don't like double dipping."

"That's not the same thing" Zazz says.

"What's not the same thing?" I ask.

"Double dipping isn't when you fuck the same girl more than once" he says.

"Well, then what is it?" I was intrigued by Zazz's depth of knowledge concerning all things carnal.

"It's when you and another guy are fucking the same chick at the same time" Zazz says matter of factly. "Or when you go from the ass straight to the vagina without cleaning off." Zazz is gross.

"That sounds extremely gay-ish" I point out. "How can you even get your dick hard with another dude that close?"

"It's not as hard as you think" Zazz says.

"That's what I'd be worried about" I say. Sometimes I crack myself up.

"You know what I mean" Zazz sighs.

"Wait a second" I say as I stumble upon something. "Have you done this double dipping you speak of?"

"Dude, don't you have a cat to save from a flaming tree at an orphanage or something?" Zazz asks trying to change the subject.

"Just when you think you know someone" I say as I climb into the passenger seat. "Are you gay, Zazz?"

"No."

"You know you could tell me if you were" I lie. "We've been best friends since you shit in the bed."

"That was a long time ago, Panic" Zazz says.

"That was last week!" I say. "Tell me. Are you a gay?" Zazz won't respond. "Do you like taking the vein train to A-Town?" Zazz pulled into a parking lot and jumped out of the car. "Oh, don't be a baby!"

"I'm getting your damned chips so you'll shut up" Zazz said as he headed into a liquor store.

Zazz is a good guy. He is the only person that hangs with me and expects nothing in return. I'll buy him a house next week to thank him. He'll try and burn it down but then I'll put the flames out and he'll move back in with me. This won't be the first or last time he's done it. He comes out of the store holding a big black bag. He gets into the car and throws the bag into my lap.

"Rude much?" I ask.

"They didn't have Salsa Verde so I got you Wasabi Fun-Yuns" he says.

"Huh?" I ask. I am shocked and appalled. At the same time. "How do you make the jump from delicious Salsa Verde Dorito's to Wasabi Fun-Yun's? That'd be like asking for a sandwich and someone bringing you soup."

"Some people like soup" Zazz says as he starts the engine.

"Some people like Clamato but that doesn't make it right." I open the bag and start eating them loudly. Zazz hates when anyone eats loudly. Especially me because he knows I know better.

"Fucking pig" he says.

"You love it" I tell him as I stick a Fun-Yun in his face. He swats it away and it flicks into his eye. He almost rear ends a small Volvo stopped at a red light.

"You almost got us killed!" he shouts.

"Dude, I can't die" I tell him as I hand him a wet nap and he wipes his face. "Can I?"

"We all die" Zazz says. I am genuinely concerned for my mortality.

"I want a family" I blurt. Zazz laughs at me. "What?"

"You have a family" he says.

"I want a family that comes from my penis, into a vagina, and back out again" I tell him.

"Fucking disgusting" he says as he heads to the television station. This is my last interview for the day and I am looking forward to it. This one reporter is blazing hot and I bet one of my older brothers that I could bang her and bring him photos back as evidence. He pointed out that she was pregnant. My blank stare only confused him. Pregnant schmegnant. I was horny. Johnny Panic waits for no one. Not even a baby.

They started the introduction with clips of me doing amazing shit since I was a kid. A clip of me lifting my school bus. A clip of me swatting bullets as an assassin tried to shoot the president. Me at 14 pushing a train back onto its tracks. Yeah, I'm cool.  They didn't show the clip of me flying up the Statue of Liberty. My hair was perfect that day. I make a mental note to check out why later.

"Introducing a man that we all love! A man that is not only super, but has been voted the Sexiest Man Alive three years running: Johnny Panic!"

I walk out to canned applause. They think this is cool but it's actually really stupid. I sit across from the host and she is still standing. Oh, right. I stand and hug her, careful not to crush her baby. I should though. Little cock blocker. She holds my hand a little longer than she needs to as we both sit down. Being a baby must suck. I wasn't a normal child so I don't know what it's like to be all small and helpless. Humans are the only creatures that need help its first few years. Look at deer. They drop out and start running.

Dolphins. They are crapped out and start swimming or die. Humans have to be changed and fed or else they die. It's horrible. I'm gonna have a kid and raise him in the backyard. Have him hunt for snacks.

"We are so happy to have you here with us, Johnny Panic!" she says. Her name is Trish Loyal. Her real name is Trishtonia Lebowitz but that doesn't have the same ring to it. "Should I call you Johnny? Mr. Panic?" More canned laughter.

"Either is fine" I say. Zazz clears his throat off screen. "Or J.P." My agent and publicist decided that initials were cool. I hate it. "So when are you due?" I ask her. It's a rude question.

"In about a month" she says. I can see a flash of anger in her eyes but she covers it up. Viewers at home probably didn't even notice it. "So when are you going to start making little Johnny Panics?" More laughter. She went straight for the jugular. Zazz covered his face.

"This is a dangerous world we live in" I say while leaning forward in my chair. I put on my serious face. It looks strong but vulnerable. I know. I have practiced it for hours in the mirror. "Drugs, global warming, cancer, pollution, super AIDS..."

"'Super AIDS?"

"...it's just a little too dangerous to have a family to care for, you know?" I have shaken her, but not stirred.

"We'll be right back after these commercials with our special guest Johnny Panic!" Canned applause. She looked at me and tried to burn a hole through my head. "What the fuck was that?"

"Excuse me?" I love playing dumb. You get away with so much when you plead ignorance.

"'Super AIDS? As if the public doesn't have enough to deal with" she says while a makeup guy applies a few more layers of foundation.

"Hey, I know people. Super AIDS is real." I run my fingers through my hair and let it fall, covering my left eye. Sexiest Man Alive. That's me. The producer tells us we go live in ten seconds.

"No more bullshit, okay?" she tells me. Mother of the year, this one.

"Sure thing, Lebowitz" I say a second before the cameras go live. She shoots me a glare that could melt steel. I smile.

"Welcome back and we're here with Earth's only superhero, Johnny Panic!" Applause. "So, Johnny. Tell us. The world wants to know. What is your weakness?"

Here we go with this shit again! People always want to know deep, long answers that are put in the form of stupid, short questions. What could I tell her? I have quite a few weaknesses. Chocolate Chip ice cream. Big tits and a tiny waist. Diamond earrings. Molly Ringwald. Full body massages with a full release.

"Pain" I lie. "Seeing others in pain just...breaks my heart." From the corner of my eye I see Zazz cover his mouth as he almost laughs out loud. I swear I am going to drop him off of the Golden Gate Bridge and not catch him until he shits himself.

"That's not what we've heard" she says. Canned Oohing. I think they call it an "ethnic kiss." What the hell was she talking about? Then I hear it. A small screech. They wouldn't. Holy shit!

"Get that thing the fuck out of here!" Zazz screams. I freak out. I run through a wall. Literally. Wanna know why they call me Johnny Panic?

***

When I was 4 an animal handler visited my school. At this point I was already doing amazing things but nothing so outrageous that I felt like showing other people. Only Zazz knew I could do cool shit and that was fine with me. I didn't want to be famous. Anyway, this douche shows up. He has spiders, lizards, and a few birds. I was fine with that. Until he released that fucking eagle.

All of the kids gasped as it flew overhead. It was trained to dive and flick your hair and then return to the trainer. As soon as I saw the bird I broke out in a cold sweat. I lowered myself in my chair to pray that that damned bird wouldn't come near me. So of course it did. With a terrifying cry it dived at me. Missed me by an inch. I screamed. Everyone laughed. The bird was supposed to go back to its trainer but it decided that it wanted to play. It dove at me again, this time scratching my head. I fucking lost it. Everyone laughed even harder. The bird came again and I swung at it. The trainer shouted but the bird dove again and stabbed at me repeatedly with its beak. I hit the ceiling. Literally.

Silence. Everyone sat stunned looking at this four year old that just slammed into the top of the auditorium. I didn't come down. I just kinda hung up there in the air with one hand on the ceiling. I saw the eagle flying back to its trainer and went after it.

"Don't panic!" he shouted as I dove for his precious pet. "No, don't! It's endangered!"

I ignored him and flew right at him. The bird took off and the kids cheered as I gave chase. Some of the teachers crossed themselves. Zazz just smiled and waved as I passed him. I was aware that I was doing something cool, but not something that could make people worship me. Take that, Jesus.

At the beginning I was only able to do super things when I was freaking out. Whenever I panicked I could fly, lift shit, or run hundreds of miles an hour. You should've seen me the first time I got high. I flew to Africa and punched a zebra because I thought it wanted to steal my toys. Hence, Johnny Panic was born. Now I can do whatever I want whenever I wanted. But the name kinda stuck. I don't mind thought. It sounds cool. Meanwhile, back in reality.

I stopped running somewhere around Sunset and La Brea. A crowd started to gather. I was about to run back to the studio and tear it down with my bare hands when my cell rang. I checked it before answering. It was Zazz.

"Dude, where are you?" he asked.

"Sunset" I said. "In front of Burger King."

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No" I told him. "What the fuck, dude?" Someone had mentioned the story of the eagle to that damned woman and I needed to find out who. The other line beeped and I clicked over. "Panic here." It was the mayor.

"Johnny, there's a situation Downtown" he said. I heard sirens in the background and helicopters.

"Talk to me, man" I said. I spoke like this to everyone. My mother almost had a heart attack when I called the president "bro."

"City Hall. 300 hostages. Three gunmen." Shots were fired in the background. "We need your help, Panic!"

Just as a crowd started to get close enough to touch me I took off. I rose quickly, ignoring their gasps and applause. Real applause. I aimed for Downtown and went supersonic. I miss J.J Fad. Wonder what happened to them. Being Johnny Panic sucks sometimes. But not being Johnny Panic would suck even more.

I get to City Hall and there are cops everywhere. I land near the mayor and shake his hand. He is sure to arrange himself properly; making sure his smile is caught by anyone with a camera. I'm not a fan of the mayor but I respect his style.

"Thank God you're here!" he says, breaking character. He leans in close and whispers in my ear. "Do I even need to tell you the shit storm that will rain down if even one hostage is killed?" He pulls away from me and smiles.

"Of course not, Tony" I tell him. "I'll handle this quick. I still have to finish an interview." My cell rings again.

"Bitch" Zazz says. "Where are you now?"

"Downtown, man" I tell him. "Gotta save a couple hundred people."

"Few hundred" the mayor corrects me.

"How you figure?" I ask.

"If there were two hundred then it would be considered a 'couple hundred'" he says. I nod and smile. Asshole.

"Meet me here, Zazz. We'll grab something from China Town afterwards."

"Fine" Zazz says before hanging up.

I rise from the ground a few feet (not a couple) and hover for a moment. The crowd ooh's and ah's as I aim at City hall and take off. Mind you, I've never been trained to fight. I only know how to keep hitting things until the don't move anymore. I am not a SWAT member. I don't even own a gun. I am not the most conspicuous person either. All I can do is just crash through a wall and hope nobody is near it. This is what I accomplish. I burst through and the place is silent. All you can hear is the crumble of cement and brick falling down around me. This building is too damned big. I can't search it room by room. I stand for a moment and breathe. There they are. Three floors up. All of the hostages are against the walls. The gunmen are in the center. Yeah, I got super hearing, too. Jealous?

I'm kidding. I don't.

I shoot myself straight up and kick the floor underneath them. I hear everyone screaming but none are as loud as the gunmen. The floor caves in and they all come crashing through. I follow them down slower than they fall. I want their life to flash before their eyes. Just before they hit I grab each of them. I smell shit.

"One of you guys is disgusting" I say as I leave the same way I arrived. "You're gonna get to prison smelling like ass and remorse." The crowd claps and cheers as I drop them into the arms of the LAPD. The mayor smiles and gives me a hug that lasts a bit too long.

"Thank you, Panic" he says into my ear. "I owe you big time." I smile to him, wave to the crowd, and fly away. China Town is down the street so I call Zazz and tell him to meet me at Mayflower. I wait on the roof so I don't cause a scene. Twenty minutes later Zazz arrives.

"So how'd it go?" Zazz asks when he parks. He knows I can hear him from the roof. I jump down and land in front of him smiling. "Good, I take it?"

"No sweat" I tell him. "Let's get something to eat."

"Anyone get hurt?" he asks.

"I don't think so" I say.

"What? You didn't stay and find out? Jesus, Johnny! I bet you just crashed through the wall, grabbed the guys, smiled and left." Zazz knew me too well.

"So what if I did?" I say. This has been a shitty morning. I bet I am the only person to get yelled at for saving someone.

"You have to be more considerate of other people's safety" he says. "That's one of your problems."

"Oh, great! Another problem! Dude, I save people for a living! That's the most considerate thing ever! I'm not hungry anymore. Take me home." I am pissed and need to hit something. A few levels below my place I keep a tank that the Army gave me after I saved some troops in Somalia a couple years ago. I use it to take my anger out on. Otherwise Zazz wouldn't act as smug as he does. Or look as smug as he does.

"But I'm hungry" he says.

"Well, eat those chips" I say. "You know what? Forget it. I'll fly home."

"You do that" Zazz says. "I'll bring you something. Duck?"

"Of course" I say as I take off into the sky. Zazz is the best.

Am I really inconsiderate of other people? I don't think I am. I believe that I am a good guy. I risk my life to save hundreds of people every week. But since I don't know if I can actually die, if it's not my life at risk, what is it? Whoa. That was deep. I gotta write that down.

***

I sat on the couch at Dr. Greensban's couch. I was a mess. I hadn't slept in days. I hadn't had sex in hours. I was losing my mind and Dr. Greensban didn't seem to care. How the hell did my agent find this guy? Was Hell too full? He just sat there looking all snooty and tapping his pen. I wanted to shove it up his ass. I could. I could do it so fast that he wouldn't know what happened.

"So what brings you here today, Mr. Panic?" He says my name all sarcastically. Emphasizing the "Panic."

"I'm losing it, man" I tell him. "I want to just snap and start breaking shit."

"That would be very bad" he says.

"Gee, ya think?" I say. "Do you know what I could do if I ever snapped? No one would be able to stop me. No one!"

"Unless they had an eagle" he says. He watched my reaction like a kid with a magnifying glass and a bug.

"Fucking eagles" I mutter. "I should kill them all. They're useless. What purpose do they serve? I save lives. I fight crime. All they do is scream and fly around messing shit up. God doesn't even think they're useful."

"So you believe in God now?" he asks. Dick.

"It's a figure of speech" I say. I sit up and rub my temples. "I don't know what to do. I mean, how long can I do this? I don't even know who I am anymore. Do I need pills?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know. Pills. Do I need something to perk me up?" I ask. I am desperate.

"I have no idea what medication would do to you, Mr. Panic" he says. "Being 'doped up' would not help you. What you need is a vacation." Was he crazy?

"Are you crazy?! How in the hell can I take a vacation? Is crime and danger going with me?" I grab my cell. "Can I call up danger right now? 'Hey, Danger. Yeah. Johnny here. I'm gonna be taking the next couple of weeks off. I have a huge favor to ask. Can you, I don't know, not happen while I'm away?' A vacation. Jesus."

"Well what do you believe you should do?" he asks.

"Hey, you're the shrink" I tell him. I swing myself on the couch hanging upside down. "You tell me what to do and I'll do it." I like making people feel needed sometimes.

"The world somehow got by fine when there was no Johnny Panic. I believe it will get by if you left for a while" he tells me.

"How long is a while?" I ask.

"One week. Just stay low profile for a week. Go somewhere you're not known" he says as he scribbles on his notepad. I wish I had x-ray vision.

"What? Mars?" Everyone knows me.

"Humor me, Panic" Dr. Greensban says. "One week."

I leave his office and skip outside. I feel brand new. A vacation! Wonder where I'll go? I whip out my cell and call Zazz. He answers on the third ring.

"What took you so long?" I ask him.

"I'm on a date" Zazz whispers. "Call me in an hour." I can't help myself.

"An hour? I've heard you in action,  Zazzy-Boy. I'll call you back in two minutes." Zazz sighs. "I'm going on vacation, dude."

"Bullshit."

"For reals" I tell him. "So pack your shit. We're going to London in a couple hours." I hang up and fly to Seattle. I like the space needle. Sue me.

"Yes, he's gone" Dr. Greensban says into his landline phone. "Of course. A week. Well, I very well couldn't tell him a month. He's dense, not stupid. Yes. Yes. I'll be ready. Be sure to let him know I expect to be paid handsomely. Of course. Yes. Alright. Good." He hangs up and laces his fingers as he bows his head into his thumbs. He prays that he has not just doomed the world to destruction.

I fly over and grab Zazz. Literally. I tell him to just bring a heavy coat. I told him that we were flying to London but I think he meant by plane. He's wearing a Cosby sweater and I laugh at him all the way to New York. Barney's comps us some awesome ass coats. Mine is black with a huge music note on the back made of diamond studs. Zazz grabs a plain gray one. I talk him into getting one with a small fur trim. He says fur is murder. I say so is letting a great coat go to waste.

Somewhere over the Atlantic my phone rings. I check it and almost drop Zazz. He's on my back. He argued before we left because people were taking photos. He didn't want to sit on my back like a bitch. I just smiled, tossed him on, and took off. The president was calling. I showed Zazz the screen.

"Aren't you going to answer?" he asked.

"On vacation, bro" I tell him.

"But it's the president!" he shouts.

"And I'm Johnny Panic." I spot a plane and decide to say hello. I fly to the front of it and wave to the pilot and co-pilot. They smile and begin laughing. I don't know why until I peak over my shoulder and see a string of snot hanging out of Zazz's nose. I salute them and zoom away.

I start to head down and through the clouds see London. Never liked this place but the chick's are hot. A few of them. Maybe I'll look up a Spice Girl. Either of them will do. I look for a good place to land that will be private. I lower myself to a roof and softly land. Zazz wipes the snot from his face.

"Are you ready to fuck shit up?!" I ask him.

"Sure" he says.

"What's your problem?"

"I was this close to getting some action and you just drop in and drag me halfway across the globe" Zazz said as he tried to look like he wasn't picking his nose.

"Dude, seriously" I say. I throw an arm over his shoulder. "I'll take you to Amsterdam. I'll get you laid six ways to Sunday. Don't worry about that chick back home."

"But I love her" he says.

"How dare you drop the L-Bomb on me?" Zazz has never been in love. This is a moment that should be shared over a nice dinner and good company. I grab him by the arm and we fly to Paris. "Now. Repeat what you just said."

"I love her."

"Mama's baby done growed up!" I shout as I spin him in the air. He slaps my hands away and I settle him down. "When the hell this happen?"

"A few months ago."

"And why didn't you tell me?" I ask. "Don't you trust me?"

"Look, man. She's special. This is the first chick to like me for me. Not because I knew Johnny Panic."

Now I felt bad. I always thought that Zazz liked getting my leftovers. Like I said before, he isn't all that good looking. I just stare at him for a few moments. He looks at the Eifel Tower few a few moments and then back to me. Man, this is awkward. Every friendship has a moment like this. When one of you tells the other something that you should've said a long time ago. Zazz was ruining my vacation.

"Do you want me to take you back home?" I ask him.

"No."

"You can say 'yes', man."

"No, I can't."

"Why the hell not?" Now I was getting annoyed.

"Because you're Johnny Panic!" he shouts.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

He shuffles his feet and walks to the edge of the roof. He takes a deep breath and turns to face me. I see tears running down his face. I want to call him a bitch so bad, you don't even know. I walk over to him and he holds his hand up, stopping me.

"You can't take no for an answer" he says. "You can do whatever you want and you do. It's old, man. I mean, when was the last time you did something for someone and didn't expect something in return? Everything you're doing is just to make yourself look good. When you look at the big picture everything you've done has been for nothing." My cell rings and I ignore it. "You're scared of yourself. You can't be left alone because you wouldn't know what to do. This 'vacation' was a perfect chance for you to do it and you can't." My cell beeps, letting me know a message was left. "Check your phone." I do. Zazz just stares at me as I listen. I hang up and smile. "Who was it?"

"The president."

"What he say?"

"You know about that big picture you just mentioned?" I ask. Zazz nods. "The president just asked me to go to Iraq and end the war."

"Are you serious?" he asks.

"Yeah. He wants me to end the 'war on terror'. Maybe next month I can end the 'battle against anger'. Man, this is gonna be crazy. Let's grab something to eat. I'm going to war tomorrow." Zazz looked concerned. "What?"

"Do you think you can do it?" he asks.

"Sure" I say. I hear a bit of doubt in my voice. How strange. Never thought I'd hear it. Zazz noticed it, too. "I just got to train a little bit. Maybe for three hours."

"Good luck, man" Zazz says. I can see that he's proud of me. Or scared. Can't tell which.

Since the vacation plans are nixed I send Zazz back home. On a plane. I wanna grab some things while I'm here and look up an old friend. His name is Toro and he used to be one of the best fighters in the world. I figure that I might as well get in some training here before I head home.

Toro was born in Spain, grew up in Mexico, and now lives in Paris. It's not hard to find him. He's always surrounded by models or paparazzi. The shit over here is way worse. See, in America we think we have it bad when they follow us from club to club. Over here they will run you off the road and then take picture of it claiming "Star Wrecks Car In Drug & Alcohol Fueled Rage!" I see him eating at a place that even I consider expensive. He has a model on each side. On his plate is untouched pasta and three bottles of wine. Toro doesn't drink but the models do. Each bottle costs $3,500. I know because I special ordered some and was placed on a waiting list.

Toro is about 6'7". A freak of nature. Me, I'm 5'11". This guy is a brick house. His long ponytail was pulled back so tight he always looked surprised. He wore a suit that costs as much as a small island and shoes that shined like jewels. He noticed the cameras flashes getting low and looked up. He saw me and a smile crossed his face. Damn, his teeth were perfect.

"Johnny!" he shouted loud enough to make the models seated near him jump. "When did you land?"

"About two hours ago" I say as we hug. He looks at one of the models and she grunts as she moves so I can sit down. "How have you been, man?"

"Loving life" he says as he rubs his hands together. "You?"

"Been better."

"Hmm" Toro says as he eyes me.

I first met Toro when he was out in L.A. I was heading to a distress call I had picked up from a cop car going by. It took me a few seconds to get there but by the time I did Toro was already there and had beat the shit out of three gang members that were attempting to rape a young girl. We started talking and discovered we had a lot in common. Girls, booze, and having fun. Toro isn't super like me, but he's as close as you can get to it and still be called human.

"Let's go inside" he says as we wave to the photographers and leave. The model is left alone and looks mad pissed. Whatever.

We headed into the restaurant and into the kitchen. There was a small office in the back. We both sat down on a plush couch. It was covered in mink fur and felt like heaven. I have to get one of these and take it home with me. Toro smiled at me and gestured for me to speak.

"The president wants me to go to Iraq and end the 'war on terror' soon" I say. Toro says nothing. "I feel like I can do it." Toro just stares. He can say so much without saying anything.

"And you want what from me?" he asks. "To train you?" I nod. "Johnny, I can't teach you anything. You're the best in the world."

"All I can do is hit shit hard" I say. "How am I gonna end a war?"

"This war in particular is quite, como se dice?, sticky" he says to himself more than me. "You'll be fighting religion. You can't do that without making enemies. A lot of enemies. Not like the kids with their websites writing about how much they don't like you. These people are serious. Be muy cuidado, Johnny."

"I always am" I say. Toro smirks at me. "Fine. Most times I am."

"Just be sure of one thing, Johnny" Toro says. "Be sure to wipe your feet before you head back home from this war."

"Meaning?"

"You'll know when it happens" he says. "You'll know."

On the flight back to America I feel like I have more questions about this war than I should. The president asked me to do something and by all means I should. But I don't want to run around fighting religions. Fuck that. I'll ask to president for a Plan B. I land in Miami and call him.

"What do you mean 'Plan B.?'" he asks me. "You are Plan B., son!"

"I don't want to upset anyone" I tell him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asks. "Who have you been talking to? There are three ways we can do this, Panic. My way. Your way. Or the hard way."

"What's the hard way?" I ask. I was losing my patience.

"We find you, arrest you, and try you on the grounds of treason."

"You can't do that" I say. There was no fucking way I was going to let him bully me. I'm Johnny Panic, for fuck's sake!

"I'm the president of the United States" he says proudly. "I can do whatever the fuck I want."

"So can I" I say as I hang up on him.

What the hell have I just done? I call Zazz's cell and get a dial tone. Hmm. Could mean nothing. Maybe the plane is getting bad reception. Something tells me that I am lying to myself. Where would his plane be right now? I focus and head out over the Atlantic. I smell the smoke miles before I see it. A plane is sinking into the sea. Zazz's plane.

I dive into the ocean, totally ruining my new coat, and start looking for survivors. There are none. None.

I am underwater for ten minutes looking for Zazz. I don't see him, or anyone else, anywhere. It's like they were vaporized or something. What the hell was going on? Did this happen just because I decided not to fight a war? That can't be it. If it is then that means I just killed my best friend.

In comic books and movies when something like this happens vengeance fills the heart of the hero. They want to train and then get back at whoever caused the wrong in their lives. But this isn't a comic book. This is real life. I want to fly home and crawl under my bed. But I couldn't. I was a hero.  I burst through the surface and there were helicopters flying overhead. I felt the cameras on me. One of two things were about to happen. Either they would think I was saving lives or that I had just ended them. Based on the last words I said to the president I was gonna go with the latter.

"Johnny Panic, you are under arrest!" someone shouted from a bullhorn. I would've heard him if he whispered. "Please, do not resist!" I floated a foot out of the water and spun myself dry. My jacket looked a mess. What would Zazz tell me to do in this situation? I drop back into the water and torpedo myself towards Maine.

I lose the helicopters easy enough. This is too much too fast. I need counseling. I bail out as soon as I hit Maine and fly towards L.A. The past few hours have been full of bombshells. It began with Dr. Greensban telling me to go on vacation. The next thing I know my best friend is dead, my coat is fucked, and I am being hunted. If there were ever a time to get some happy pills now was the time.

"No? Why did he say no?" Dr. Greensban asked the president. "I did my part. I got him out of the country. Yes. Well, it was your idea to kill his friend. Focus group, my ass! You gave the order. Yes, I know. What of the girl? Dead. I see. She was quite an actress. I suppose you would have to be to pretend to love any man named 'Zazz.' How soon? Well, if Johnny Panic is on his way here then I suggest you send me protection." The line went dead. "Hello?"

"My bad" I say as I float near his window holding a telephone pole. "I'm clumsy sometimes."

"What are you doing here?" Dr. Greensban asked.

"Why did you do it, doc?" I asked as I tossed the telephone pole down and crashed through his wall. He covered his eyes and began to run for the door. I stomped the floor, buckling it. "Answer me!" I shouted. He flew against the door and smashed right through it. I fly over to him and snatched him up just as police helicopters were arriving. Blood poured from the docs ears but I knew he could hear me. Somewhere over Nevada I dropped down and slammed the doc hard in the sand. "Talk."

"I never knew it would go this far" he said. My cell rang. It was the president. I ignored it. The next call was from my agent. I ignored it. Then my mom called.

"Hey, mom" I say.

"Tell me it isn't true, Walter!" she cried. What was she talking about?

"What're you talking about?" I asked.

"Some men are here and they say that you brought down a plane! Is it true?"

"Of course not, mom" I tell her. "They're setting me up because I didn't want to..." then my phone went dead. I look at the doc who is crawling away from me. I kick him in the ass hard enough to break a vertebra. He does a full front flip and lands on his stomach. "How far does this go?"

"I think you broke my spine" Dr. Greensban says as he coughs up blood.

"Fuck your spine" I say. "Does this go higher than the president? Does it?!" I kick him again. He whimpers. "Fuck." He wouldn't know. He was just a foot soldier. I grab him by the ankle and toss him into the ozone. I needed to come up with plan. I crush my cell between my hands and threw it down. Johnny Panic vs. The World. This would be entertaining if not anything else.

***

"This is a new situation but not one we are unprepared for" the Secretary of Defense said as he addressed Congress. "Since the discovery of Walter Toner aka Johnny Panic we have made contingency plans to handle him. A broken arrow, meaning a loose nuclear warhead, can be recovered and destroyed. On the other hand, this is a human. Consider him a living WMD. He must be caught and killed immediately. Given his track record there is a 3% chance of bringing him in alive and turning him. That means that there is a 97% chance that he will fight back. Ladies and gentlemen, we have orders to kill the only superhero to ever exist."

"How do we destroy him?" Senator Obama asks. "Does he have any known weakness?"

The room fills with murmurs. There has never been a case or situation in which Panic has ever shown a weakness to any metal, vegetable, or poison. The Secretary of Defense looks annoyed as he clears his throat and continues.

"At the moment we do not know of a weakness" he says. "But he is a living creature. He has a weakness. It's just a matter of us finding and exploiting it."

"How about his family?" a senator from New Mexico asks.

"We want to destroy him, but not push him over the edge. I do not want to imagine what Panic would be like in the throes of rage. No matter what has occurred in his life we have never seen him angry. That is something we should avoid at all costs."

Heading towards Washington Johnny Panic was angry.

***

Halfway to D.C I stop in midair. What am I doing? I need a plan. I can't just show up, punch the president, and go home. I have to assume that they've fucked over my family and have my house under surveillance. Damn it. Why can't I just turn back time? I would've stayed in bed today.

Years ago Zazz asked me why I didn't have a Fortress of Solitude like Superman. I laughed at him then but now I wish I had taken his question more seriously. Everyone knows me. I can't just show up in Bumfuck, Alabama and blend into the crowds. I decide to head for the one place no one knows who I am.

For whatever reason Johnny Panic has never been the jump-off in Hawaii. No one has ever been able to figure out why but I am glad that I'm not known here. I land around sundown and find a secluded beach to set down. Man, this place is beautiful. Wonder why I have never visited before. Oh, that's right. Not popular. I stroll to the other side of this island and see a small bar. I walk inside and sit in a corner booth. The place is nice and cozy. A waitress walks over and there isn't a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She smiles and places a coaster on my table.

"What would you like?" she asks. Man, her skin looks like bronze.

"You" I say. She frowns and walks over to some lug sitting behind the bar. He looks at me and smiles. Not a nice "Pleasure to meet you smile" either. He has bad intentions. I'm sure this smile would make a normal dude shit himself three times but not me. He walks over and places his ham hands on my table.

"Loina tells me you're here for trouble" he says through his teeth. He looks like a log made into a man halfway through the process.

"No" I correct him. "I'm here to get away from trouble. Now just calm your big ass down and get me a drink. Something fruity." He throws a looping right at me and I just hold my hand up. He hits it and drops to the ground screaming. Great. Now I have to get out of here. The few people in the bar are looking more at me than the guy on the floor. As if on cue a news report interrupts "The A-Team" for a special report. My face pops up with clips of me flying. They already have a graphic of me and everything. The headline says "Panic Over Johnny!" A lady starts speaking. You can tell she used to be hot. In the 70's.

"Coverage of Panic Gate continues. Hello, my name is Linda Rockwell and here is today's headline. America's and the world's greatest hero Johnny Panic has gone rouge. The European government has supplied us with footage of an attack carried out by Panic just over an hour ago." They show some fake ass clip of me punching a hole in a plane. Gotta love technology. "Very disturbing footage indeed." Now everyone is looking at me like Hitler just came into the room.

"Everyone calm down" I say. "That wasn't me." Someone throws a drink at me. I catch it and throw it back at them. Damn reflexes. I crash through the wall and head into the sky.

Something Toro said flies through my head. The internet. For as many sites that hate me there are twenty that love me. All I gotta do is find one of the posters and get some help. One of them that I always liked was JohnnyPanicIsGod.com. The moderator was named JohnnyPLover87. I met her once at a book signing. She was cute. She lived somewhere in Kentucky. Going there would be risky but I had to chance it. Twenty minutes later I am there and wondering how the hell I would find her. Way overhead I can already see the vigils starting for the victims of the plane crash. Fuck. How could I prove I didn't do it? I see a news van at one of the vigils and decide to make my impression felt. I come in low and fast. Everyone gasps as I snatch the microphone away as the broadcast begins. The crowd cheers but can hear a few boos as well. My agent must be on a rooftop somewhere ready to jump.

"Hello. I'm Johnny Panic. I am innocent of the bulllshit claims being made by the government." Great. I cursed. Now I'll have the FCC on me as well. "They killed my best friend Zazz on that flight. I want you all to know that I wouldn't do anything to hurt any of you. Just because I decided not to fight in the war they have blacklisted me."

"Signals been cut" the cameraman says.

"Whatever" I say. "I got out what I needed to."

"You really didn't bring that plane down?" the reporter asks as I hand him back the mic.

"No" I tell him. "I'd never do some bullshit like that. Like I said. I won't fight in the war so now I am fucked." I could hear helicopters approaching. Too loud to be civilian. "I gotta go. Make sure the people hear what I said."

"They already did, Panic" he assures me. "We were live."

"And sorry for cursing on air." I wave to the crowd and they cheer. No boos. Good. I got them back. Now I need to figure out how to clear my name.

I fly high into the atmosphere and watch the planet. It relaxes me. I've been doing this since I was 13. I can hold my breath for hours at a time. The longest being 11 when I went searching for the Loch Ness Monster for the Discovery Channel. It wasn't there. I bring myself down a bit so I can see what's going on across America. More and more vigils appear. They look like stars from this height. I go even lower and chance hanging out over California. I can see my house from here. Man. You never appreciate your home until you can't go there. It's surrounded by the Army and various law enforcement agencies. I head to my parents place and it's the same thing. I'm sure they are watching the skies for me but I'm too high to be spotted. Don't believe the crap you hear about satellites that can spot flies on a turd from space. If that were the case then they woulda found Osama months ago and I wouldn't be so damned busy.

I head back to my house and wonder what I should do. Everything in there is replaceable. It's just stuff. I see them bringing items out and it pisses me off like you wouldn't believe. I decide to try a move Zazz called "The Pendulum." It'll take my house out, or any building, in seconds. I quickly head back into the atmosphere and come flying down like a bat out of Hell. They don't see me coming. I go through my house and head straight back up. They start screaming and shooting at nothing. I'm like a tornado. I bring everything up with me where it floats in space. I gather as much of it as I can and clump it all together. I'll be back for it later. At this height it won't start to head back towards Earth for a few days. The image of a $30,000 couch crashing into someone's yard in New Mexico makes me smile.

Now what? I need to get to the people somehow. I look through my stuff and find my iPhone. Always carry more than one. I punch in a few numbers and locate JohnnyPLover87 online. I DM her and tell her to meet me on her rooftop. She agrees and I'm on my way. Damn, I hope this works.

***

I can see JohnnyPLover87 smiling from a mile away. Her real name is Ronica but she hates the name with a passion. She says her mom wanted Monica and her dad wanted Rhonda. So they came up with Ronica as a happy medium. I swoop down and grab her. She gives me a hug and I find a nice secluded spot for the two of us. I land in the middle of a forest that hasn't been trampled by mankind yet and sit her down.

"It's cool to see you, Johnny" she says.

"Well, it'd be cooler if it weren't under these circumstances" I tell her. She may be the only chick I talk to and have no intentions of trying to bang. It feels good. She's like a dude with a vagina. If Zazz were here I would use that joke on him for sure.

"I saw your broadcast earlier" she says. "That was badass."

"I didn't mean to curse."

"Oh, whatever. They say worse during the Grammy's. So what can I do for you?" Ronica asks.

"I need to let everyone know that I haven't become some out of control weapon" I say. "That I'm the same old Johnny Panic they all know and love." Ronica frowns. "What?"

"That won't work, dude" she says.

"Why not?"

"You know how people and the media are nowadays. They love when idols fall. They've been waiting years for you to fuck up and now here's their chance to rub it in your face. What you're gonna have to do is prove to them that you have changed. Do a Q&A or something." She runs her fingers through her dark brown hair and twirls it. "We can totally do this online. I know some folks that can scramble the signals so that they can't shut us down immediately."

"Q&A how?" I ask. This is me intrigued.

"I can have everyone ask you questions and you answer them live via webcam. It'll be easy. People have been asking for me to hook that up for a while" she says.

"Keep this up and I'll have to hire you as my agent" I tell her. And I am dead serious.

"It's not nice to tease" she says.

"I'm not teasing. You're good. How long until we can get this up and running?" I ask.

"An hour at the most" she tells me. "It's easy, seriously."

"That's fucking awesome. I'll take you back home so you can get started. Just shout when you're ready." She looks and me and cocks her head. "I'll hear you. For serious."

She jumps into my arms and I have her home in a less than a minute. Afterward to occupy myself for the next hour I fly to D.C and move the Lincoln Memorial. Not a lot. Just enough to confuse the hell out of tourists. Then I head over to Hawaii and leave a hundred bucks in the tip jar of that bar I messed up. Yes, I have a conscience. Flying over Texas I hear Ronica shout for me and I am on my way.

She lets me in through the back door and I land inside a nice little kitchen. Why aren't I happy with this much? My kitchen is the size of her entire house but yet I want more. Zazz used to say I was the ultimate ugly American. I just called him ugly. Ronica leads me upstairs to her bedroom. Oh, my, God. It's like a monument to me. There's a six foot poster above her bed. I remember that photo. I was at a Pearl Jam concert and crowd surfed. I am hanging upside down and smiling. A large caption underneath me says "Everybody Panic!" Ronica sees me smiling and blushes.

"I'm so embarrassed" she says as she sits at her computer.

"Don't be" I say. "It's a cool picture." That didn't sound conceited at all.F

"In a minute you'll go live" she tells me. "Just look into the camera. There will be no time delay. This is all in real time. Just answer whatever they have to say truthfully. No matter what."

"Okay" I say. I sit down and smile as the screen appears. I can see myself and whoever is speaking to me. Some kid that doesn't look older than 12 is there with a Johnny Panic button on his shirt.

"Hey, Johnny!" he says.

"Hey, guy."

"Just questions" Ronica says to the two of us.

"Did you really blow that plane up?" the kid asks.

"Not at all" I say. "I was in another country when it happened. My best friend Zazz was on that plane." Another person appears. A priest.

"Have you accepted the Lord Jesus Christ into your heart?" he asks.

"Sure." Ronica clears her throat. "Well, I haven't not let him in. I mean, my parents didn't raise us to believe one thing or another. They let us make our own decisions. I just haven't gotten around to it yet."

"Are you an alien?" an old lady asks. I wonder how she even got online.

"No, I'm from L.A. We're strange there, but not aliens."

"Why didn't you save my daddy?" a little girl sitting on her mother's lap asks.

"He was a fireman during 9/11" the mom says. A picture of her husband sits nearby.

"Honestly I wasn't even on Earth when September 11th went down. NASA was concerned with an asteroid near Mars and sent me to go knock it out. By the time I got back I was worried about being late for school and didn't know what had happened until I reached Earth's atmosphere. I flew to New York but they didn't want my assistance. It was an election year and all. I am so sorry about your husband though. That sucks."

"Are you gonna put out the wildfires near Malibu?" some guy wearing shorts and a tank top asked.

"As soon as I can get close enough and not be attacked by the government I will."

"That blows" the guy says.

"You know what? Hold on." I zip over to California and bring as much wind with me as possible. It looks like a hurricane made of fire heading into the sky. I spread it far above the city to make sure no embers can get down there and start more fires. I fly back to Kentucky and sit back down. "There, dude."

"Thanks!" he shouts.

"Your cheek" Ronica says. I wipe some soot from my face and smile.

"This guy at school takes me lunch money every day. Can you beat him up?" a small little kid asks me.

"What's his name?" I ask.

"Jason Wheaton."

"Everyone now knows his name. If he messes with you again you have the entire world watching your back, plus me." I see Ronica working frantically at another computer.

"Less than a minute, Johnny" she says.

"I just want everyone to know that I am still a good guy. I didn't bring that plane down. I just stood up for something for once in my life without being told to and they didn't like it. I am no one's personal weapon. I will try to clear my name but I'll need your help. Just believe in me. Please. Just...I don't know. Just don't stop believing in me. Okay?  See ya."

Just as the screen goes black I feel wetness on my cheeks. Ronica comes over and places a hand on my shoulder. Fuck. When this kinda shit happened to Daredevil he got the nickname "The Man Without Fear" because since they took everything away from him he had no hope. What will they call me I wonder? "The Man Without Endorsements"? I laugh to myself.

"What's funny?" Ronica asks.

"Life" I say. "Just life."

Ronica turned off the computers and removed the hard drives. She handed them to me and I crushed them to dust and placed the pieces into her trashcan. She walked me outside and we both stared off into the distance. I had a lot on my mind and didn't know where to start. Ronica nudged my arm. I looked at her and she smiled.

"Stop thinking so hard, JP" she said. "It'll be cool."

"You really think so?" I asked.

"Yeah" she said. "And not just because you're Johnny Panic. Once the media gets bored they'll find another person to chase after. Just lay low for a while."

"I tried that" I replied. "Now Hawaii hates me."

"Hawaii always hated you" Ronica laughed. "Seriously, just find a place to hole up and then wait for the public to react. You know we're on your side. I'll watch the news later and see what they have to say about your video. Just stay close so you can hear me."

"Can I stay here?" I ask her jokingly. She punches my arm, being soft with it even though she knows I am invincible.

"I'd do things to you in your sleep..." she says while blushing. I kiss her on the cheek and take off. I pretend I don't hear her say that she loves me.

***

"My American people, we have a dire crisis. A former hero, Johnny Panic has attacked us. He has struck us over the sea and we can only sit patiently while he prepares himself to attack us once again. But we will not do that. We shall strike him first. Already troops have been pulled from Iraq, Afghanistan, and Iran to battle our new enemy. A total of 350,000 soldiers ready to defend us to the death. We as Americans, as humans, must realize that this battle will be tough. This will not be cut and dry. The loss of human life, civilian and military, will be great. But we will persevere. We must. For our children's futures we will persevere. Thank you very much and God Bless Us."

The president removed his small microphone and stretched. He spoke for a moment with the vice president and then left the room. Several secret service agents flocked him as he walked to his personal limo. He climbed inside as the agents spoke into the cuffs. His limo began to roll and then a bottle hit the driver's window. A mob had gathered near the White House.

"What the hell...?" the president gasped. He could only hear pieces of the crowd as they shouted.

"...leave him alone!"

"...never hurt anyone!"

"...are you doin' this?!"

"...worst president ever!"

"...fuck with Panic you fuck with us!"

"Get me the hell away from these psychos!" the president shouted as the limo sped through the crowd.

"That was cool." I was watching the news from someone's window on the 20th floor of their penthouse. They had a huge TV. I heard chanting and flew down a little further. Hundreds of people were gathering in the streets. I could already hear sirens coming from every direction. I couldn't pass this up.

"We want Panic! We want Panic! We want Panic!"

Who was I to deny them? I came swooping down and landed in the center of the crowd. I felt their hands all over me. They lifted me over their heads and shouted for me. I could hear crying, screaming, and cheering. I floated above them and raised my arms high. They all cheered. I motioned for them to be quiet.

"I love you Johnny!" a woman shouted.

"I love you, too!" I said. The crowd cheered. "Nice to see not everyone hates me. Thank you all for your support. I couldn't do what I do without your help. Now I have just one question for you all: What the hell do I do?"

"Kick the president's ass!" a guy shouted.

"That would be too easy" I say which makes them laugh. "But seriously, the cops will be here soon. I want you all to head home. After this is all done I will come back and throw a huge party for you! I promise!" They cheered once again and I took off. I heard Ronica over the crowd shouting for me a minute ago and headed back her way.

Being Johnny Panic was starting to feel good again.

***

I headed to Ronica's place floating on cloud nine. I felt good about myself until I saw her house surrounded by police cars and a few helicopters. I stopped midair and tried to figure out what to do. I couldn't just burst in there and start flipping cars left and right. This was a peaceful little neighborhood. I saw them dragging Ronica out and let my instincts take over. She shouted my name again and a cop punched her in the stomach. Fuck.

I swoop down and smack the cop across the face. I hear his jaw shatter and see an entire side of his teeth fly out. I take Ronica and break her cuffs. I fly off with her in my arms. She is shaking and crying. I get madder faster than I ever have.

"Are you okay?" I ask her.

"No!" she said. "Those assholes trashed my place!"

"I'm so sorry, Ronny" I tell her. "If it weren't for me..."

"Don't you dare, Johnny!" she shouted. "You've done more for me than you'll ever know. Those guys down there on the other hand..."

I flew high with her and held her tight. Not too tight. I could crush her. I ask her where a safe place for her would be and she said Rhode Island. I take her there and drop her off at a friends' house. Her friend, Chukes, screams when she sees me. I hug her and she takes a picture of the two of us. Ronica explains what happened to Chukes and I take off. I hear Chukes comment on my ass when I fly away.

As I'm over Texas wondering whether or not I should grab my family up when a rocket explodes over me. I cover my head and spin around. How did I not hear these guys? Shit. I've heard of these jets but never saw one in real life. Damn, even with my super hearing I couldn't pick up a sound from these guys. They fly right at me and I dipped low. They stayed on my tail. Yes, I could zip away no problem, but that wouldn't stop them. There were three of them flying in a triangle formation. I fly towards the one at the front and kicked it hard. It spun out of control for a moment before righting itself. Damn. That looked cool. I fly in between the two still in formation and smack each of their wings. They spin but correct their flight pattern. The first I hit shoots two rockets at me. I grab each of them and hold them. I head for the other two jets and they take off. Apparently these aren't set to explode. I am chasing them and grinning like a lunatic holding two high explosives. The jet behind me won't fire knowing that if he hit one of these things by accident he would take all of us out. Well, not me. I'm super. Suddenly the rockets don't explode but pop. A thick black goo spurts out of them and covers me. It gets in my eyes and now I can't see for shit.

I felt myself tumbling to the ground. I tried to right myself. Just stop moving but I, Johnny, was panicking. I'm claustrophobic. Sue me. I try not to freak out but I'm having a hard time. How could they know this would fuck with me the way it was? Dr. Greensban. Besides my family and Zazz, he was the only other person that knew about my fear. I tried to calm myself down but it wasn't working. I heard myself crash to the ground more than feel it. I hope I haven't killed anyone. I can't hear anything now. Whatever this crap was it worked well. I felt it working its way into my ears, mouth, and nose. I try to tear it away but it just gets stickier. Fuck!

Someone had their hands all over me. I felt myself being dragged. I tried not to thrash too much because this could either be a friend or foe. I had to just try and settle down before I hurt someone. Was I being lifted? I felt myself bobbing. Did I land in water? I could see a hand! A bunch of them. Whoever this was they were freeing me. I could hear them now. They sounded worried. Now my hands were free. I could stand. I looked around and was surrounded by dozens of people with more arriving. The goo was washing off. My clothes were ruined. Damn it.

"Are you okay?" a lady asked.

"I think so" I said as I spit some of the stuff out. It tasted like salt. "Where am I?"

"Utah" she replied. Damn, how fast was I going?

"Some jets were chasing you down" an old dude said. "We saw it on the news." I looked up and couldn't see any jets coming which meant nothing seeing as how they were quiet as ninjas. The crowd began to clap as I rose from the water, which turned out to be a large fountain. I floated a few feet from the ground and saw the hole I had left when I crashed. It was a thirty foot wide and ten foot deep crater near a playground.

"Get 'em Johnny!" a couple people shouted. I took off into space. I found my pile of possessions I had left and changed my clothes. I looked like I got beat up by a tar monster. I grabbed some black jeans, a gray sweater, and a big black coat that had my face airbrushed on the back. My hair looked like shit. No time to worry about that now. They had the armed fucking forces set to take me down and they knew secrets about me. Damn it. I could really use some of Zazz's advice right about now. No time to think like that right now. I had to strike hard and fast. I now knew that there was no way around this without casualties. I had to hurt people. Even kill them. I turbo'd towards Earth. Funny. It didn't feel much like home anymore.

I head straight to D.C. I had to strike them in the last place they'd expect. I'm sure they thought I would head to military bases, my folks place, or turn myself in. I wasn't doing neither. I could already seeing jets coming towards me. Good. Let 'em come. They came in a straight line then split when they saw I wasn't changing my path. I went straight through one of them. I blocked out the screams as I exited the back of the jet. No time for that. The other jets chased after me. I spun around and blew through three of them. Five more to go. Block out the screams. They cover me from top to bottom, left to right. This is cool. I used to imagine things like this when I was a kid and couldn't control my flight this well. How nice of them to arrange themselves like this. Jackasses. I spun like a top sucking them into me. I hear the metal crumple like a thousand cans. I can't even hear their screams at this point. I stop and kick the trash into orbit. I can see the White House now.

I wonder if I should've called first.

***

"Rick Rocket. Born in Venice Beach, California. No known family. No friends to speak of. We have spent the past twenty years engineering him as a weapon. Yes, there have been a few...hiccups, but I assure you Mr. President that Rick is our best hope against Johnny Panic."

The president looked skeptical. The Defense Minister kept his eyes locked on the president and wondered what was going through his mind. Rocket cost the government billions of dollars to build. Only thirteen people knew of his existence to this extent. He had blended into the general public easy enough. He even had a day job at Macy's. A horrible drug addict but that only added to his chameleoness. The president stood and cracked his knuckles.

"So when do I get to meet our savior?" he asked.

"Right here, buddy" a young man said in the back of the room. Everyone turned to look at saw a thin white kid wearing tight black jeans, a torn Ramone's t-shirt, and black knee high boots. He pulled out a cigarette and smiled. "Mind if I smoke?" His hair hung low over his eyes. Only his nose and mouth were visible. His teeth were fighting one another for room in his small mouth.

"Yes" the Defense Minister said. "We mind."

"Too bad, because I'm fucking awesome." He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. "So when do I gotta beat Panic's ass? I got a date later, and, like, you know? Like, I don't wanna be all late, right?" He chuckled to himself. "Is that cool?"

"Are you fucking kiddin' me?!" the president shouted. "This guy is supposed to save us?"

"Man, I will totally beat Panic's ass" Rocket said. "Right? I mean, yeah. He won't stand a chance, like, I can't lose. You know? So, don't worry. I'll take care of 'em."

"Jesus Christ on a crutch" the president said as he left the room. Rocket raised his hand to high five him as he quickly exited the room with six secret service agents in tow.

"Do you guys know where I can score some weed?" Rocket asked. No one responded. "Whatever. Panic's here."

"Our radar detects nothing" one of the Minister's yes-men said.

"Man, I can feel him. He's here. This'll be awesome." With that Rocket took off. Through the ceiling.

I was just about to crash into the White House when a fucking atom bomb in the form of an asshole hit me right in the jaw. I flipped end over end until I stopped myself. Who the fuck was this guy? And how was he flying?

"Who the fuck are you and how are you flying?" I asked.

"Rick Rocket, broseph" he said. "I have to, like, I don't know, kill you or something."

"I can't die" tell him. "Now just step aside and let me do what I have to do."

"Sorry, my man" he said. "Can't let you go any further. You shall not pass!" he started laughing to himself. This guy was a stoner for sure. "Know where that's from?"

"Lord of the Rings" I reply.

"Correct!" he says. "You're cool, bro. I hate that I have to, like, kill you. You rock. You banged Carmen Electra, right?"

"Yeah."

"Damn! That must've been sweet" he says.

"I've had sweeter" I say. "Do you really wanna do this, Rick?"

"Gotta do it" he says. "Got no choice, you know?"

"We always have a choice" I say. "I made one and that's why I'm in this situation."

"Exactly!" Rick shouts. "So I choose not to make my own decisions. Just follow the herd, man. Don't make waves. Go with the flow. See, if you'd done the same thing we'd be having a beer or something instead of planning your funeral."

"I'm not gonna lose" I say. "I don't lose."

"There's a first time for everything" Rick says as he floats closer. He smells like weed. Told you. Stoner. "Now how you wanna handle this? Are you gonna just kill yourself or am I gonna have to do it for you?" I zip past him a few hundred feet and he blocks me. Damn, he's quick! "No way, dude. I really don't think you're thinking this through. Sorry about the eye."

"What?" I ask. Next thing I know he nails me square in my right eye. And it actually hurts. I'm not used to feeling pain. The last time I did was when I knocked that asteroid off course from smashing into the planet in '99. That was more of a cold pain. That damned thing was freezing my hands when I shoved it. This was just good old fashioned pain. I responded with a kick to his ribs. He flew sideways a hundred feet and then stopped. He smiled.

"Duuuuuuuuuude..." he moaned. "That hurt like a motherfucker." He flew at me and grabbed me by the collar. He tossed me high and followed with a kick to my back. I spun and popped him one on the jaw. He grinned showing his bloody teeth. He spit the blood in my eyes and tried to choke me. Seriously, I am not used to hand to hand combat. I always have to hold my shit in because I fight regular ass people. Now was my chance to see what I could do, Superman/Darkseid style.

I smack his hands away from my throat and kick him in the stomach. I hear the wind fly out of him. He recovers quicker than I thought he would and knees me in the ribs. I feel them move but not break. I bring my elbow down on his shoulder a few hundred times in a few seconds. I can see him bruising. I grab him by the hair and look into his eyes. They are pure black. No whites or anything. He smiles and backhands me. I fly toward the ground and catch myself a few feet away from it.

"Let's take this somewhere more intimate" I say to him. He nods and flies off. I tail him until we meet in Nevada. He slams to the ground and dusts himself off.

"Round two?" he asks. I nod and he's in my face raining down on me with rights and lefts. He's sloppy though. I get him in the gut with a punch that makes his knees buckle. I hear helicopters coming. Civilian. Likely media. "This...is fun."

"This isn't a game, dumbass!" I shout as I drop low, grab his ankles, and slam him down to the ground. The boom could be heard from miles away. The helicopters are here now.

"Yeah, it is" he says as he sweeps my feet from under me. I land hard. He shoots himself up high and heads for the helicopter. He grabs it by the rotors and breaks them off holding them like two giant swords. The copter starts to head for the ground but I save it at the last possible moment. The cameraman, reporter, and pilot jump out and run.

"Are you okay?" I ask them. They nod and continue filming. Their eyes go wide and I turn and grab a blade just as it was headed for my neck. "Dirty fucker."

"Gotta do what ya gotta do" Rick says as he chucks the other blade at me. I grab it and throw it back. It cuts through his knee and he collapses. He cries out in pain and then takes off. "Next time, Gadget! Next tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime...!"

"What the fuck?" I ask aloud. "What the fuck is going on?" How did they make a new fucking superhero? Do you know what it's like to feel special your whole life and then have it snatched away? I do. It feels like this.

***

I flew high over the planet again to get my head straight. This was the worst day ever. Best friend dead, clothes ruined, the government against me, and some dickhead that has superpowers. I try and wrap my head around all of this when I saw an explosion in D.C. I flew down and saw Rick Rocket trashing the White House. They were firing guns, teargas, and peppered bullets at him. He was just laughing the entire time. I heard someone say my name and looked for them. It was the president. I went ninja style and found him hiding behind a flaming limo. No guards were with him. They were too busy trying to stop the bionic stoner in the sky.

"Thank God you're here!" he said as I landed in front of him.

"Oh, now you're my friend" I say to him with my hands on my hips.

"We need you to stop this guy!" he shouted. I love how a minute ago they wanted me dead and now I was the best thing since reusable condoms.

"Why should I bother?" I ask.

"Because this is your country and it needs your help" he says. I can see the dried tears on his cheek. Bitch. "Are you gonna help or not?"

"Maybe I will" I say as I float from the ground. I speed off and nail Rocket in the back while he is bent over coughing from laughing too hard. He flips over and shoves me away. He smiles when he sees me.

"Hey, Johnny boy!" he says. "Round three?"

"Final round, guy" I tell him. "I am so gonna beat your ass."

"Try me" he says as he tosses his hair back showing his black eyes.

"You don't want a piece of this, Ricky."

"No, I want the entire thing."

"I don't know, guy. I may too be too much for you."

"Good thing I got a huge appetite."

"Cool, because I'm like a buffet of ass kicking."

"Awesome. I brought a coupon. Two beatings for the price of one."

"I think your coupon is expired. Wanna speak to a manager?"

Rocket laughs at that and kicks me in the chest. I hold on and dig my finger in his wound. He screams. He reaches and grabs my hair. It hurts. I scream. I'm not ashamed to admit that. I grab his hands and take him to the ground. Everyone runs back as we smash into the ground. Some jackass shoots me in the back.

"Hey!" I shout.

"Sorry."

Rocket grabs me by the throat and head butts me. I feel blood trickle down my lips. I head butt him right back. He lets go of my neck and stumbles back. His forehead is bleeding. He pounds the cement and rips a huge piece of it out. He hurls it at me like a Frisbee. I grab it and smash it. He smiles and nods.

"Impressive."

"You ain't seen nothing yet" I say as I drag my fist across the ground until I reach him. I uppercut him, smashing his jaw. "Shoryuken!" He does five back flips before landing on his stomach. He slowly gets up and dusts himself off.

"So that's how you wanna play it?" he asks me. "Cool." He strikes a pose and reaches into the ground and pulls out large wires. "Come here!" He wraps it around my neck and pulls me close. He knees me in the groin. I yelp. I slap him in the ears and he yelps. Now we're both on our knees like a couple of idiots yelping while everyone looks at us. This is so not cool. I shove him. He shoves me back. I slap him. He slaps me back. I dive on him and we're rolling around fighting like a couple of chicks on Jerry Springer. I get on top of him and slam his head into the ground. He scratches at my eyes but ends up getting a finger up my nose. I pull back and snort. He tries to kick me in the crotch again but I block him. I stand up and stomp on his wounded leg. He shouts and flies upwards. I grab him by the ankle and slam him back down.

"Fuck him up, Panic!" the president shouts.

"I was until you distracted me" I say. Rocket kicks me in the face and takes off. "Damn it" I say. I take off after him.

Over Oklahoma I catch up to him. I club him in the back of his head. He lands in a field and stops tumbling after a few hundred yards. It looks like the world's laziest crop circle. I land next to him and kick him in the side rolling him over to his back. His face looks like hamburger.

"Dude" he says. "I think I lost."

"Yeah" I say. "You kinda did."

"This sucks."

"Yeah."

"What do I do now?" he asks. He sits up and coughs up about half a gallon of blood.

"I'm no doctor or anything but I think you die now."

"Cool" he says. "You're a cool guy, Panic."

"Call me Walter" I say as I kneel down. "What are you anyway?"

"What you mean?" he asks.

"How did they make you? Were you born this way?" Rocket lays his head back down and bloods starts to run from his ears.

"Area 51, man" he says. "That shit was real. They took...shit from the aliens and put it in me. Made me, awesome...like you."

"Not awesome enough apparently" I say. He smiles and reaches for me. I take his hand.

"Dude, go clear your name" he says. "I knew you didn't do that shit they say you did. I just got a favor to ask."

"What, bro?"

"Kill me."

"Uh...how?" I ask.

"Something cool" he says. "Mortal Kombat style."

I tell him I will. I pick him up and take him back to D.C. There are reporters everywhere. The president is at a makeshift podium speaking to the press. I watch him for a few moments.

"I assure you that the threat has been neutralized. Our hero Johnny Panic has taken care of the other super powered being calling himself 'Rick Rocket'. Johnny Panic will save us and then turn himself in for crimes against..."

"Bullshit!" I shout. Everyone looks up as I come down. I drop Rocket's body on the podium. The president jumps back and screams. I pick up Rocket and hold him up by the back of his neck. Keeping full eye contact with the nearest camera. I raise my right hand and slam it into Rocket's chest. The crowd gasps. I smile and then rip his heart out Kano Mortal Kombat Fatality style. Some faint. Some scream. Some cross themselves. A few run. The president shits himself. No one can see it but I can smell it. "Now the threat is neutralized."

"My, God..." the president says. I drop Rocket's body and heart and grab the president by the collar and look him in the eyes. I hear hundreds of guns clicking.

"Oh, whatever" I say. "You'll just hurt you and everyone around you. Lower your weapons." I've always wanted to say that. They lower their weapons. "Tell them the truth" I say to the president. He frowns and turns his head. I reach down and grab his left nut. He winces. I squeeze harder and his nose starts to run. Here come the tears.

"Okay, okay! Just stop!" he screams. "I'll tell them..."

And he does. The entire story. From blowing up the plane to engineering Rick Rocket. Hell, he even throws in current drug use and affairs for good measure. It turns out the plane explosion was supposed to be blamed on terrorists. I was then gonna be used as a weapon against Iraq, Iran, and Korea using revenge as my motivation. I wasn't supposed to see the plane as soon as I did. I fucked up their plans by arriving so early to the wreckage. They went into damage control but fucked up by setting Rocket loose too soon. My name gets cleared. The president is arrested on live TV. I kick him in the ass as he is thrown into a police car. The crowd cheers for me.

For me.

I stay true to my word. I go to every city and party with them. I fire my agent and publicist and hire Ronica. She's happy. She's even happier after we have sex. Not so happy when I cheat on her with Scarlett Johansson. Come on! It's Scarlett! I couldn't pass that up. She forgives me after sleeping with Toby McGuire. She doesn't like him but she knew that I hated him. Even Stevens.

My family is fine. My mother is happy that I didn't really go crazy and blow a plane up. I eventually get my stuff from space and have a new place built in Hawaii. They like me now. Apparently that guy that broke his hand trying to sucker punch me was a closet Johnny Panic fan. He has me sign the hole I left in his bar wall and makes a monument to me. That's cool.

I'm more popular than ever. It's not the same though. Without Zazz life feels weird. I cry about him sometimes. Usually when I am in space and all alone. I see an explosion in New York while I am up here. Geez. Can a brother get a break? Guess you can't really rest when you're Johnny Panic.

You can call me Walter, friend.