Sliced Bread 2: The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread

Got into the office this morning with a box of donuts. I don't usually do the donut thing, because there's typically nobody around and I'm not really interested in toading out on an entire box all by myself. In this case it turned out to be a good decision because Suchit took one (donut count: 1) in the lobby and Greyghost and Surefire were standing around the office when I arrived. Surefire was slouching in my chair and his mask was hanging behind his head like a hood.

"So it'll be in the papers tomorrow," Surefire was saying. I offered Greyghost the box and he took (dc: 2) a plain one. (Figures.)

"What are you going to do?"

Surefire shook his head. Without his mask he was a surprisingly normal-looking guy, with medium-brown hair and a long, bony forehead. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know. I've got family in Europe; maybe I'll go over there for a while."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Some asshole newspaper bitch found out my secret identity," Surefire told me. "Claudia Calhoun, girl reporter, and her handy-dandy supercharged press pass. She really stuck it in me and broke it off."

"Ahh, I'm sorry," I said, and held out the box of donuts. "That's terrible. How'd she find out?"

"No idea," he said, taking (dc: 3) a powdered jelly donut. "A guy I know at the Moon left me a message warning me it was going to happen. Otherwise I'd be reading about it tomorrow just like everyone else. God. What am I going to do?"

"Is it possible to simply deny everything?"

Surefire shook his head. "My guy at the paper read me the story. She's just got too much detail. I don't even want to think about what tomorrow's going to be like. Maybe I'll just go find a beach someplace. You know what the hell of it is? Up until now, nobody knew. My family didn't know, my friends, my girlfriend didn't know, nobody. One hundred per cent secret identity. Now it's all blown to crap. I don't have a single human relationship this won't ruin." He got up to leave and took one (dc: 4) of those chocolate coconut things.

"Good luck, Surefire."

"Thanks for everything," he said to Greyghost. "Pleasure working with you. Watch out for the reporters." He nodded at me, and the elevator lifted him away.

"Wow," I said.

Greyghost nodded. "It's the one thing we all worry about. Except Bob, of course. Having our identities revealed would not only ruin both sides of our lives, but leave us to cope with the wreckage in a way that even death wouldn't."

Looks like there's one fewer superhero in Empire City now. I finished the donuts (dc: 6. Box complete) while mulling that over.