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What had started as an idea to raise a little badly needed cash by giving lessons to wanna-be super heroes had backfired with my very first client. I found myself saddled with a woman that I knew absolutely nothing about with one exception which was, I wanted to show her exactly why they called me Mister Muscle in the worst possible way. Chapter Two: Muscle Immobile One thing you should know about me. I don’t do things half way. You can’t afford to in the cape business. You either commit 110% or you end up dead. “You expect me to learn how to use all of those?” She sounded incredulous as she stared at the rack. I had loaded it with every weapon I could think of, from throwing stars to hammers, in the hopes of finding out if she had a natural affinity for anything in particular. There were even a set of laser pistols and a freeze ray gun to try out. “We play by my rules, Squirt…” I began, poised in my most authoritative pose, legs spread, arms crossed over my mighty chest, my mouth. The gold chain was there, over a check shirt, and she was wearing jeans. You can tell with jeans, good brands fit well; cheap ones look as if they are a sum of parts not actually related. Eve's jeans were more than good, I doubt if there was much change out of four hundred quid for them. Her lips were glossed with just a little lipstick; apart from that her face was bare of make-up. Her sunglasses were parked up in her dark brown hair. She looked younger without the make-up. Eve asked me to come in and carry the hamper to the car. Yes! A Hamper and it was heavy. My mind marvelled with anticipation of delicious things. Eve, though delicious, was not included in my mind's menu.Once on our way, Eve became chatty."I had to sneak these jeans in without Aubrey seeing them. He would have a fit if he saw me wearing them." Why? You look damned good in them." Thank you, John." There was pleasure in her voice. "Aubrey thinks that Jeans are down-market, and therefore no wife of his should wear.
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