When we last left our superheroes they were departing from a bus stop. The EWHA-3 was protecting Stormy and a melodramatic end left the superheroes bickering. Since then, the EWHA-3’s larger-than-life member, Muscle, had experienced heartbreak: His girlfriend surprised everyone and turned out to be an undercover agent for Team Avalon. She infiltrated the EWHA-3’s small network and shattered the heart of our beloved Muscle. Will his misfortune mean disaster for the rest of the group? This episode begins with a grim text message sent through vastness of cyberspace…
The EWHA-3 - EPISODE 2 - The Muscle
SHE RIPPED MUSCLE’S F#CKIN HEART OUT AND DESTROYED MUSCLE’S HOUSE. NEED HELP. BRING MCDONALDS.
This was the text message that Brain received from Muscle. It was 10am and Brain had only been asleep for three hours. His mouth was a scratchy sandpaper sandwich; he skipped the more-than-necessary shower and took a cab to buy McDonalds. He told the driver, “keep the meter running,” but the driver didn’t speak English so when Brain returned the cab was gone. Clambering into another cab, muttering curses and Muscle’s address, Brain sifted through his blacked-out evening prior: It had really been one of “those nights” and now it was turning into one of those mornings. When Brain arrived at Muscle’s apartment the door was unlocked and Brain let himself in. Upon entering, Brain’s expression changed from concern to shock: his mouth and pupils widened as he surveyed the damage.
Muscle was a small depressed island in a sea of angry filth: spilled boxes of cereal, crunched bits of cereal on the floor, bits of rice in stuck in cracks and crevices, a 36” LCD television idle on the floor, an overturned table, bed sheets and shards of glass strewn across the room, chopsticks and perilous knives ripped from the drawer now on the ground, the silhouettes and specters of violence. The refrigerator in the kitchen was on its side, still plugged in, leaking chocolate ice cream. Muscle was brooding in the center of it all, sitting in his red leather chair heart-broken.
Only four hours had passed since Muscle’s girlfriend left the apartment that she savagely ruined. Muscle, with all his might, could do nothing as his drunken love tossed his possessions onto the ground, scratched his face, and shrieked at him menacingly. He begged her, “please stop! You’re drunk—please calm down. I love you.” But, she continued to rage. Eventually, his girlfriend’s anger waned allowing for a moment of sober clarity, a smirk, and Muscle wondered what was happening. She smoked a cigarette then left Muscle in quiet horror. Hiccupping, as she stepped through the kitchen, she mentioned something about spying for Avalon. Muscle couldn’t remember everything exactly, he was in shock, but he remembered her sadistic laugh as she closed the door and disappeared. Team Avalon had planted a sleeper cell, a spy, in the midst of the EWHA-3: she sabotaged the strongest member, Muscle, and left him a distraught wreck.
“She went crazy after we left the bar last night,” said Muscle.
Last night, Muscle was with his girlfriend, drinking substantially—which was normal—but, only in hindsight could Muscle see that alcohol was the spy’s instrument of manipulation. Muscle’s girlfriend wanted to drink constantly, rapidly, and Muscle recognized this pattern, but ignored it. (He could handle his liquor, but she was beginning to show signs that she couldn’t.) The love he felt was strong, as strong as he was, and he thought that their romance would endure. But, last night was the perfect storm. It left Muscle devastated, text messaging Brain for double-quarter pounders.
Brain tiptoed through Muscle’s house like it was a mine field and sat on Muscle’s bed. McDonald’s changed hands and both superheroes threw their wrappers on the ground. They ate quietly. Brain didn’t remember how last night led to this, he ate voraciously.
“You’re destroying that burger,” said Muscle. Brain looked down at the rest of his quarter pounder: he was nearly finished while Muscle had half a burger still. Brain was a bear waking from hibernation, eating like a glutton. He looked up at Muscle and both superheroes smiled meekly at each other.
“I’m starved and hungover… Muscle, what happened last night?” and together they pieced together the doomed evening.
It all began and ended at a dive bar: The Wild Card was on a lucky streak while playing pool. He hadn’t missed a shot for half-an-hour. Brain was a mess, drinking soju alone and sleeping on a table. Muscle showed up with his girlfriend, both had drunk 2 bottles of soju each. They tried to revive Brain and get The Wild Card to join them. However, Brain was out of commission and The Wild Card had left the bar. (The Wild Card had a tendency to ride his lucky streaks wherever they took him; his disappearance was not mysterious, but expected.)
So they had the beginning, but neither hero could recall what caused such a fury at the bar and such an epic finale. Muscle remembered smashed soju bottles, pieces of green Jinro on the floor, slaps on the cheek, bear paws to the temple, getting 86’d, and a long walk home. Muscle explained that when he got home he was ambushed by his love-turn-spy. Muscle grew sullen. He had scratches on his neck. Muscle’s voice was shaky. He still hadn’t told Brain that she was a spy.
“Muscle thought she had sobered up and was ready to talk, so Muscle let her in,” he began. “She went crazy, destroyed Muscle’s house, and left smiling, laughing! Muscle let her in Muscle’s heart and she plucked it right out, like a pepperoni off a pizza. Worst part about it, Brain, Muscle never saw it coming.”
The giant put his face in his hands,
“Muscle feels so weak,” he said.
“Muscle’s the strongest guy around, but Muscle feels like the way his apartment looks: dirty…like trash.”
Brain surveyed the room again, it was indeed a mess, and at that moment Muscle did embody his home: they were both disasters. Muscle had let someone into his inner-most chamber, his heart, and was deceived. His heart ached, he felt alone, but the Brain put his hand on Muscle’s shoulder.
“You know,” he started, “I’m not really good with these kinds of things…women and heartbreak—I kinda wish the Wild Card was here—he’s better with this kind of stuff. But…um…look…it’s over with. You fell in love, that was genuine, and no one can take that from you. In fact, besides your apartment, you’re alright, except a couple of scratches on your face and neck—we can clean this up too, no problem—besides, who knows, if it wasn’t for her being drunk she might have really tried to hurt you. Perhaps, you know, this is a blessing in disguise?”
Muscle looked at Brain deeply. It was a moving speech, Muscle thought, but just a speech. Nothing could spare Muscle the heartbreak or shame he was experiencing. Brain still didn’t know that she was a spy; Muscle had to tell him:
“She was an agent, Brain,” said Muscle bluntly, “for Avalon. She lied to Muscle and spied on us.”
Brain went silent and the news seemed to echo throughout the room. Brain went to the bathroom and returned to sitting on the bed. Muscle didn’t move from his chair; his palms, on his chin, held up his head.
“I shoulda seen it coming,” said Brain and he sighed. “I think about everything, but I never considered her as a spy.”
“Muscle either.”
“I see it now, I get it: They couldn’t beat you up so they got a girl to beat you down and now we’re here in a sad mess. We could get ambushed at any moment and we’d be helpless: I’m hungover and you’re heartbroken. We’re worthless. I’m not drinking ever again—where’s The Wild Card?”
And with serendipitous timing, Brain’s cell phone vibrated with a text message from The Wild Card.
NEED 2 MEET-KNOW BOUT THE SPY-GOT A INSIDE GUY WHO GAVE ME A HEADS UP-FIND MUSCLE-GET MACDONALDS-CALL U IN 1 HOUR
Brain relayed the text message to Muscle and they both sat in a quiet stupor. The absent Wild Card had pursued a lead and now his fellow superheroes felt even more pathetic. They wouldn't have to catch The Wild Card up to speed because he already knew (somehow), yet here they were sitting feeling sorry for themselves. That wouldn’t last long though,
“Well,” said Brain and he stood up, “I guess we just wait for The Wild Card…might as well clean up.”
So, Brain and Muscle returned the chaos to tranquility and left the apartment looking as it usually did: a mostly tidy home for a giant man. They each felt a little better as they cleaned, but they still were shaken. No amount of planning could have prepared the EWHA-3 for this, especially Muscle. As the giant man and his small ally swept and wiped away the residue from last night that old feeling of harmony was repairing Muscle’s bruised heart slowly. Muscle felt relieved because he knew that even though he had been hoodwinked, he had acted genuinely: He had loved truly and he had friends that would be there for him with encouragement, a lead, and a greasy burger. He could contain his heartbreak and sublimate that anger for wrath. Team Avalon had pissed off Muscle and now he was biding his time until he could reciprocate: Muscle was going to seriously mess up someone else’s house.
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