I am a supervillain called the stoat. I live in a canal riverbank in a nest that is decorated with empty food seasoning pouches, seasoning bottles, seasoning boxes and seasoning grinders. I have a large collection of glass seasoning bottles - they are my favourites.
I used to be just an average guy, going to work in an office.
Then I became the stoat.
I was hit by a ray of radiation that turned me into the stoat.
My super-power is being called the stoat.
I swim into canal barges and steal seasoning. I go home into my nest and eat the seasoning and then use the packets to decorate my home. My wife doesn't know anything about my new life. Glass seasoning bottles dangle from strings made from my own head hair and they tinkle politely in the breeze. Plastic seasoning pouches are pasted with my saliva to the earth walls of the nest. They keep it water proof.
I curl up every night after my day and sleep in the nest.
It is a bright summer's day. I can hear the succulent lapping of the canal outside my nest. I can hear little birds singing everywhere, talking about their mornings and the gossip from last night out on the piss.
I hear a person walk past, whistling.
A man's head appears, upside down, at the entrance to my nest. The man is holding tightly onto a postman's hat, in order to stop it from falling into the canal. He says,
'Got some post for you.'
He pokes his hand into my nest. It's full of letters - junk mail mostly.
I say thanks to him and then look through the morning post. I drink some water that I have dissolved pepper in while I think about the post. A couple of bills, something from reader's digest, letter from the bank.
I am so lonely.