The SECRET ORIGIN of TROUBLE-MAN

"I'm not wearing THAT!" Travis recoiled when he saw his to be super-suit for the first time.

Dr. Lahey rolled his eyes, losing patience with Travis' vanity, though he kept telling himself that this was a fault of youth that there was nothing he could do about, but to keep explaining to Travis why what he thought about how the project reflected on Travis Harvey did not matter. "Travis, listen to me -- are you listening? -- When you have spend seven years and millions of dollars for research, you can wear anything you like. Until then, the project team and the directors get to decide what you wear while using Tauscher Labs equipment. Get it?"

Travis rolled his head back and to the side, unable to come up with a response. Then, Travis looked into space, thinking, and said, "Maybe it won't look as stupid with the armor on it."

"There is no armor," Lahey said slowly and quietly, supressing his anger. "Just the gloves and boots.

Travis started to look worried. "Not even a...like a belt -- a super belt?"

"Belt?" Lahey couldn't hold back any longer: "YOUR NOT WEARING ANY PANTS!"

Travis lashed back. "No armor?! If I wanted to get regular beatings by uneducated hoodlums, I would have played wide receiver in the NFL!"

Lahey smirked, "Well isn't it just too bad you didn't get drafted? Maybe you should have stuck to just one sport, or even two, in college."

"Yeah, if this is any indication, I would have been drafted by the Bucaneers and made to where the old uniform." Travis and Lahey laughed, and the tension diminished.

"Okay, Sport." Lahey grabbed the unitard from the table, bunched it together, did a pass-fake, then tossed it to Travis, who nearly fumbled it.

"Ummm..." Travis mumbled, "I suppose that the Tauscher Institute insists that the suit have a big letter 'T' on the front, huh?"

"You are 'The Tauschernaught', are you not?

Travis winced. He didn't bother to state yet again that he thought the name was stupid, and too obviously something the Labs PR people had insisted upon. He thought to himself that there's nothing dumber, nothing that screams "my mother dressed me" than to wear an outfit that emblazened with the first letter of this first name. "Yeah, I guess I'm 'The Tauschernaught'," his voiced trailed off.

Travis would have his revenge on the Lab PR staff. Six days later, he donned his 'T' outfit, put on the Tesla-gloves and electro-boots, plus targeting monacle, and was driven by a police-scanner equipped Tauscher Labs van to his first crime scene: a robbery at a small liquor store. When he got out of the van, he felt like he was going to deliver a pizza, or a singing telegram. "Just walk in, dressed like an idiot, and stop a crime in progress," he thought. "This is whack."

As Travis entered the liquor store, feeling too awkward to be as intimidating as he wished he was, it occurred to him that at least in a superhero costume, there's no question as to what your there for.

There were three teenagers in the store, each armed with a pistol in one hand, and as much booze as they could carry in the other. The store owner (he assumed) was face down behind the counter. They were startled for an instant, eyed Travis, then the biggest of the three junior Hellions cracked a smile, then started laughing. The other two followed suit, looking at each other, and pointing with their guns.

Finally, the biggest one said, "Man, that is one ugly costume, bitch. What's that 'T' supposed to stand for?"

The kid had almost come up with the idea of 'Turd', but Travis responded before he could complete the thought:

"Trouble."