As most of you know, I’m In-the-Way Man, a real-life superhero who isn’t afraid to fight crime by getting in the way of bad guys! To those who claim you didn’t ask for my help (Judy C.), or that I have no right patrolling the streets (Marc T.), I’ll have you know I have plenty of authority and training.
Ever since I downloaded my Nextdoor app, I discovered my newfound mission to protect and serve. And the best part? I’ve been getting all of my Goose Hollow subdivision intel from your messages, in the Crime & Safety section. So I guess you did too ask for my help, Judy C.
My Nextdoor superpower allows me to teleport from your phone to everyone else’s, using cellular waves to track criminal activity. Who needs the Bat-Signal when you have magical pings in your pocket, am I right?
As far as my credentials go, you may have seen my heroic picture in the Gazette last December when someone was stealing Amazon packages from the Johnson’s doorstep and POW! I sat on every piece of mail delivered to their house for one week straight. Or the time those teens were being rowdy in the mall parking lot and BAM! I squeezed that foghorn. Or when Mrs. Walker’s lawn got out of control again? KABOOM! I mowed that yard.
Plus, I went to high school with a police deputy, who’s also my Facebook friend. He even likes some of my posts so that pretty much means I have the full support of the police force.
Also, if you knew me, you’d know I’m fully committed to my strict training regimen: perching, hiding, and crouching in strange places in the middle of the night. I also stay fit by swinging swords around my backyard, jumping off deck furniture, breaking drywall over my head, and punching holes in walls.
Not to mention, I look like a legit superhero in my motocross outfit with an In-the-Way Man sticker THAT I DESIGNED MYSELF! Sure, I don’t have a cape, because last time I tripped over it. And I can’t do full-on spandex because of my sensitive skin. Besides, my mom Barb might think I’m in some cyber sex clan if she found spandex in my laundry.
Speaking of Barb, she’s pretty angry at David S. for posting the whereabouts of my secret hideout yesterday and claiming, “If In-the-Way Man is going to get all up in our business, we’re gonna get up in his!” I mean, it is her basement.
Thanks to you, I’m not allowed to fight crime past 10 o’clock anymore. I mean I can, but I get bombarded with questions now, which means Barb and my step-dad currently think I’m in a Dungeons and Dragons support group.
And don’t think I forgot about you, Sarah B., exposing my achilles heel, when you waved from across the street last week, as I was on my way to get in the way. Just because I couldn’t see your face and didn’t wave back doesn’t mean you had to tell everyone I have astigmatism. Besides, I already created some special goggles that should do the trick.
So, despite all your complaints and evil efforts, I’m here to let you all know that I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I’m looking to up my crime-fighting presence. WHA-BLAM! So don’t post the crime, if you don’t want me to do the time. And by doing the time, I mean getting in the way.
Your super-legit, super-serious superhero,
Amy is an advertising and comedy writer, who loves to poke cleverly at the very industry that pays her, the pop culture that entertains her, and the Bible Belt that raised her.
Categories: Open Letters