Minion

1

Something swoops overhead again, and they both roll to avoid raking talons. The desk explodes into flaming splinters behind them.

"Who's the hero?" Minion Four pants as he ducks behind one of the inexplicable marble columns marching along the walls. "I don't know any birds."

"If you don't know, how the fuck should I know?"

Huddling in dubious safety, Minions One and Four peer out at the chaos in the foyer of the bank. Through the hazy air swoops a huge feathery creature who easily dodges blasts from Professor Force's gun, which appears to be made of clear plastic.

Minion One rubs at the stinging burn on the back of his neck. "This guy's a joke. Lookit that gun. It's a fucking toy."

Although it looks like it might spray a little water at best, the gun shoots lasers, or maybe some kind of paralyzing ray. Either way, it hurt, and fountains of rock dust spray from the columns where it hits. Professor Force, the incompetent asshole who hired them for this disaster of a job, guards the stairs to the basement vault with a bulging bag of burgled bucks in one arm. Marble dust fills his floofy hair and turns his black costume gray.

"Stay still so I can hit you!" he shouts, peeved, and blasts another pillar into rubble.

"If you insist!" With a dramatic swoop, Professor Force's feathery foe finally lands in the center of the lobby. Floor still buckling around them, they spread their snow-white wings to their full extent, filling the foyer from wall to wall. "Give yourself up now, villain! There's no escape!" The voice is feminine and surprisingly young. She sounds out of breath. She's also lying, because the glass of the front doors lies shattered across the marble floor, and it would be easy to escape by running right out the open doorway.

Now that the hero has stopped moving, the Minions can make out long hair so blonde it's almost silver cascading down the back of a blue-and-white costume. Her feet are huge, scaly, and tipped with talons as long as steak knives. They look deeply uncomfortable to stand on.

Minion One frowns. "Must be a rookie."

Minion Four nods. "Professor Fatrapper wasn't supposed to have a nemesis. She must be tryna make a name for herself."

Professor Force fires off a few bolts from his gun. The hero dodges with unnatural speed.

"I've already opened the vault!" the villain wheezes. "You can't stop me now!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you. Not when you're facing--" The hero pauses, spreads her wings again because they'd wilted a little, and plants her gloved fists on her hips for extra effect. "--White Squall!"

Minion Four slaps a palm to his forehead with a groan. "Always the fucking weather names. Why can't some of these heroes choose creative names like The Quarter Pounder? You know, like when you beat someone up, it's called a pounding--"

"I get it," Minion One says, rolling his eyes.

"White Squall?" Professor Force sneers, waving his toy gun in a way that's probably supposed to be threatening but just makes him look amateur. "I've spent my whole life toiling beneath the thumbs of the ungrateful elite, working my ass off and getting nothing in return! Well, no more! I'm here to take what I'm owed, the money that was stolen from me by our cruel corporate overlords. Soon I will be richer than you can imagine! And there's nothing a little storm can do to stop me!" As he speaks, he searches behind him with a toe and takes a step backwards towards the basement door.

"He does know he'll be trapped if he goes downstairs, doesn't he?" Minion One asks.

White Squall jumps into the air. Enormous wings catch her. Wind gusts buffet the Minions.