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this week, news broke that the su-
perhero community—known for
its derring-do and abundance of
tights—has decided to go on strike.
The rallying cry of their protest: a
demand for compensation.
“There’s no money in being
a superhero,” the Green Lantern
complained to everyone within ear-
shot of his large green megaphone.
“There’s no paycheck. No tips. How
am I supposed to make a living on
the gratitude of those I save? Grati-
tude can’t buy me a bag of tortilla
The recent recession has hit a
lot of professions hard, but none
more so than the superhero indus-
try. “People think that just because
we have super powers we have our
lives together,” Aquaman told re-
porters at a press conference last
week. “But we have enemies, too.
And not just the ones that mono-
logue and laugh maniacally and
build elaborate devices to kill us.
Enemies like mortgage payments
and electricity bills.”
As more citizens turn to petty
crime to make ends meet, the work
of superheroes has only increased.
“And you better believe there’s no
overtime,” Aquaman went on to say.
“How am I supposed to take care of
all the inhabitants of the sea when I
work all of the time and don’t even
get paid for missing fish holidays? I
have missed too many Fishmases. I
will not stand—well, tread water—
for it any longer!”
The strike comes on the heels of
more and more superheroes coming
forward to talk about their super
poverty. “Last month I lost my in-
visible plane,” Wonder Woman told
reporters from outside of her new
home, an invisible cardboard box.
“I couldn’t make the payments. I
even tried selling my bracelets, but
it wasn’t enough.”
Some heroes are faring worse
than others. With both the super-
hero industry and print media in
trouble, Superman is reportedly
living in a phone booth. Lois Lane,
who has been outspoken in her
pleas for help on his and other su-
Last month I lost my in-
visible plane. I couldn’t make
the payments. I even tried
selling my bracelets, but it
wasn’t enough.
Wonder Woman
Struggling Superhero
perheroes’ behalf, revealed that she
saw him kill a rat with his heat vi-
sion just so he could eat. “I mean,
he’s Superman. The Man of Steel.
I saw him crying into a half emp-
ty can of baked beans yesterday.
Something has got to change.”
Some of the chagrin of the
protesters has been aimed at their
fellow superheroes, namely those
with money. “I can’t help that
I have a lot of money,” Batman
growled from the marble balcony
of Wayne Manor, drinking tea from
a gold cup his trusty butler Alfred
had just brought to him. “I mean,
my parents did die.”
The protestors’ demands are
simple: “What we want is a super-
hero minimum wage,” Mr. Fantas-
tic said in a statement to the press.
“This is our day job, and we need
“Some of us are demanding
health insurance, but we know
that is unreasonable,” said the
Thing, who was being shot with a
death ray at the time. “But maybe
just like a bonus at the end of the
year, you know? Or even just a gift
card to Arby’s. At this point we are