Jason - Sidekick

Diary of a Former

Hygienistthe events of today and perhaps the law, compel me to release this diary, it should be clear to everyone reading this that what has happened was not the fault of Ultahombre. He is as noble and honorable today as he was the day I, his loyal sidekick, met him. He has just been distracted lately, which seems understandable given the circumstances. His biceps may be unnaturally strong, but his heart is very human.

If anything, he cares too much.

See, this whole thing all started when we learned that Dr. Dress-up had been released from State Asylum. Ulta is a believer in that place, but I am not so sure. I can still hear his deep soothing voice, “Don’t worry about it, little man, that place has been a place for a long time. Did you remember my new spinbrush head?” Now, can someone so concerned about dental hygiene be wrong? … My thoughts exactly!

Anyway, Dress-up had been given his ticket to freedom, so we entered “release and catch” mode. Ulta stood on the top of the building beside the Doctor’s apartment, staring down into his window, watching him rub his hands together and offering a menacing laugh, while the villainous one drew malevolent, red X’s on his map of the city. I just waited in the car. Let me just note, that building is very tall, so I am certain he could not have known the cat was there when he leaped down the twenty or so floors. I am also reasonably certain that the feline in question did not have an owner. Sprinkles was just a street cat. I would like to add, that if this is part of the official record, any blood found in my car, particularly that found on the passenger side, I am certain it is that of an incredibly unlucky cat and there is no need for the city to run costly tests on it. Cat blood, only cat blood. This is not to say Ultahombre was inconsiderate, just in the limited time it was hard to get that surprising amount of gore off his boots. But, I digress.

So, Ulta hopped into the car, grabbed his GUM soft pick from it's holder on the dash and with the gesture of one of his oversized hands, signaled to roll out. I glance from the hand working out a piece of breakfast down to his feet and I remember thinking, “that is what floormats are for,” as he smeared a bit of tabby fur off his black boot. “Dress-up has taken the vile visage of the elderly.” I knew exactly what that meant, so I safely guided us to the place he would certainly go, the Sunnyvale Senior Center.

In this diary, given the relevance it might have in the coming days, think it is important to note, that if I had known what was going to happen I might have taken some different precautions. I might have been a little slower in getting to the senior center or perhaps tried to engage in a de-escalating conversation. Alas, at that time I did not know that Ultahombre had what might be called emerging Mommy-issues. Nor did I see what might now be considered a snap from reality. Yes, I had noted a higher level of stress, bleeding gums and such, but when he said he was being followed or they were out to get him, I had reason to believe him. Hero work, as it is, is dangerous.

“There he is!” he shouted, pointing at who I would later learn was Mr. Evans. He was out of the car before I even had a chance to slow. If the family of Carl Evans is reading this, it should be noted that he did better weathering the flurry blows than many a super-villain. You should be very proud of him. I suppose it might have occurred to Ulta that the complexion of Mr. Evan was somewhat different than that of Dr. Dress-up or perhaps he calculated that Dress-up could not have gotten ahead of him, or perhaps it was just distraction. I can never be completely certain what is running through his marvelous mind.

So, Ulta moved on and I administered first aid, with the kit I keep in my car for just such an occasion. Now by occasion, I don’t mean the pummeling of an innocent elderly man, not to say that Mr. Evans was innocent, only a court of law can determine that, I am just saying that accidents happen, if in fact this was an accident. Sorry for the rambling, I just don’t want a repeat of...Nevermind.

No matter, while I wrapped what I thought was one of Mr. Evan’s hands, I heard the valiant cry of,”Wrinkles.” At least I think it was wrinkles. Then Mrs. Jones walker was launched a somewhat unexpected distance across the manicured green. It was a graceful and silent. A perfect parabola of flight, not at all like Mrs. Jones, who followed shortly after.

I could hear things breaking and Ultahombre attempted to root out Dr. Dress-up. His voice was like music to my ears. “Age defiling.” “Damn you Dress-up.” “Mother!”

I would try to tell you what was going on inside this building, but I myself never made it in. I was kept busy with the flood of seniors, who seemed surprisingly mobile coming out of all of the doors. I imagine he was in there guiding the innocent to freedom, that he was helping those who could not help themselves, he was as always being a hero of the people. I won’t even dignify the pending accusations with a response in this diary. Additionally, it was not long after this I was knocked unconscious, by the Doctor, not as you might have read, Mrs. Simpkins.