Super Spiffy Man
"So that's when I got this thing," the taxi driver said, pointing at the miniature pink, plastic poodle on the dashboard. Darryl sighed; he always got stuck with the weird cab drivers on the way home from work. Still, it beat taking the bus where he was plagued with all sorts of freaks, weirdoes, and assorted nuts.
"Yeah, that's great," Darryl muttered as the driver droned on. He couldn't wait to get home, kick off his shoes and just relax. He glanced out the cab window to stare blankly at the night sky and froze. The moon had just come out from behind a cloudbank and hung high up in the sky the bright, full moon.
"Oh no," he silently pleaded. "Not here, not now!" but it was too late. His face changed first under the effects of the moonlight. Extra hair sprouted from his head, sticking out and forming impossible shapes. His face elongated, and his mouth filled with gleaming white teeth. Next to change was the body, his clothes ripping to shreds as muscles rippled and swelled. Last to come--always last to come--was the spandex, melting out of his skin to form brightly-colored patterns. Darryl's cape unfurled in the moonlight. No, Darryl no more, for in the light of the full moon he had transformed into that big-chinned, spandex-clad hero Super Spiffy Man! He looked at the cab driver in heroic pity.
"I'm sorry citizen," Super Spiffy Man said in a deep, strong, heroic voice, "but I can't let you know that I am truly a were-superhero. Forgive me of this." That said, Super Spiffy Man used his heroic 'make-em-forget' power, and the cab driver no longer remembered the heroic transformation, nor, for that matter, how to drive his cab.
Heroically, Super Spiffy Man flew through the roof of the taxi as it
crashed into the telephone pole, eager to patrol the city for this one
night. He could only heroically fight crime once about every twenty-eight
days, but woe to any villain who should cross his heroic path on the night
of the full moon. For they would face the heroic wrath of Super Spiffy
Man!