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FANFICTION - Sparky Watts : The 2010 Edition
Welsh Comic Fan:
Part 1
“Good morning sir, my name is Watts, and I’m standing in this ward for the local elections!”
It was the day before the local elections and I was feeling exhausted. There were only two more doors to visit and a gentleman with white curly hairs opened the penultimate door. He looked me up and down and asked if I consented to him recording my policies so he could consider them before the election the following day.
“But of course!” I replied.
He asked me to sit down in front of a video camera, which seemed to have a lot more buttons than most, but I waited for him to tell me to start and I started my standard election address.
“My name is Stanley Watts, although most of my friends call me Sparky, and I am the Liberal Democrat candidate for the Estuary of Aeron ward in tomorrow’s local elections. I have decided to stand for the elections as although I am quite young I have lived in this ward all my life and feel I should give something back to the community. I realise that…”
“And how do you feel?” asked the gentleman, as he switched the camera off.
“Very well indeed!” I replied, “apart from a slight snuffle but then I do have a mild case of hay fever every now and again, but why did you switch that camera off? I had not even got to my main policy planks!”
“You don’t feel any different?” the gentleman asked again, “like you could charge through a brick wall and emerge in one piece the other side?”
“I feel perfectly normal!” I replied.
The gentleman sat down next to me and sighed.
“I am afraid I have not been entirely truthful” he said, “my name is Professor Static, late of the University of Wales, Cardiff. About 60 years ago, my great uncle, Doctor Static, invented a device that enabled cosmic rays to be used to enhance the physiology of any living creature. According to his notes it was only used on one person, your namesake actually, a Sparky Watts from New York state in the United States. About a month ago I found the blueprints for it and redesigned it to look like a video camera and during your election address exposed you to those rays hoping that you would become, in effect, a superhuman, but clearly it has failed. I hope that you will forgive me!”
I looked at the Professor with an expression of amazement. I didn’t know what to think. Had I encountered an elector who had clearly gone, if you would pardon the phrase, “doolally”, or had he stumbled on a method to make people into supermen. I decided on the former and politely removed myself from his house leaving one of my election leaflets in the hallway and moved on to the next house.
I was about to knock on the door when it opened and so I started on my introduction.
“Good morning sir, my name is Watts…”
“Yes I know” said the person, and stepped out into the daylight revealing that he was wearing a Labour rosette.
“Ah” I said, slightly caught on the hop, “then you presumably know that there is no Labour candidate in this ward and that it is only myself and the Welsh Nationalist candidate who can win, therefore…”
The person raised his hand and I stopped talking, he then folded his arms and started to speak.
“I have voted Labour since I was old enough in 1964, since then I have voted for four Labour Prime Ministers. Harold Wilson, James Callaghan, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown. I voted for Brown in the 2010 election and when the result of the election was announced as no one party having an overall majority in the Commons, I instantly contacted my local party chair and told him that I would agree to any coalition deal with your party and wholeheartedly endorsed Gordon’s decision to create legalisation to change our voting system. And what did your party do? You jumped into bed with Cameron!”
“But sir”, I said, being as polite as possible“If you watched the whole election programme you will have seen that your 258 MP’s and our 57 MP’s would still have been short of the 326 MP’s needed for a majority. We promised the British electorate that any coalition would be to create a strong and stable government. 315 MP’s does not make a strong and stable government and that is why…
“I will never vote for your party at all. Good day, sir!” and with that he stepped back inside.
“Can I at least offer you a leaflet?” I asked, handing him a leaflet.
“NO!” he said and slammed the door. I suddenly realised that my hand was going to be trapped in the door and knew that I couldn’t move it quickly enough. I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth and hoped that the pain wouldn’t be too excruciating.
After a few seconds, I gingerly opened my eyes to reveal that the door had not closed and that my hand was blocking it. The man opened the door, grabbed the leaflet from it and instinctively I pulled my hand out of the door which he slammed. I pulled up the sleeve of my jersey to inspect the damage and found to my amazement that there wasn’t any. Taking a pencil from my pocket, I marked the elector down as a “Anti” and then felt my wrist. Although not an expert, I couldn’t feel any broken bones nor see any cuts or bruises. I pondered my position for a moment and then came to the only obvious conclusion.
“It worked!” I thought to myself and vaulted over the Professor’s garden fence. The Professor was gardening and I picked him up and twirled him around a few times. “Your machine, Professor” I said after settling him back down on the ground, “It works!” and explained what had happened.
The Professor looked at me and smiled.
“Fancy a few tests?” he asked and pointed at a rather large Stanley oven in the garden. “Any chance you could move that into the shed?” he asked and pointed to the bottom of the garden. I walked around the oven a few times.
“But it must weigh a ton!” I said, “but if you insist”
Squatting down, I put my fingers underneath it and to my amazement I started to lift the oven, first in a squat, then to my waist, then to my shoulders and then finally over my head. Still not believing what I was doing, I moved the oven to the location and put it down gently.
“That’s impossible!” I said, as the Professor chuckled.
“Now, how about a few jumps eh?” he said
I did as he asked and landed a good half-mile from the Professor’s garden. As I made my way back, my mind was in a state of confusion and I sat down on a raised surface in the Professor’s kitchen to try and make sense of it all. As the Professor came in from the garden, I started to smell something.
“Er, have you got something in the oven that’s burning?” I asked
“No” replied the Professor, “it’s your trousers!”
“What?” I exclaimed and realised I had spent the last few moments sitting on a working stove which had started to burn a hole in my trousers. I jumped down and started to pat them to cool them down and as I did so the Professor told me that I could do anything.
“You are in effect a superhero, my lad. You can do anything and everything, just assure me that you won’t do anything to destroy the world!”.
“Yes, sir!” I said, saluting and stamping my foot on the ground, which made the house collapse around me. As the Professor made his way out from under a table, I apolgised for the destruction of his house.
“That’s alright” he said, “I can make another one! Now, how about a running test eh? Let’s say from here to Aberaeron, which is a mile away!”
“That should take me at least 30 minutes then!” I smiled as the Professor started me off. However, as I ran off, the world turned into a blur. I screeched to a halt outside a town hall and asked a person if he could direct me to Alban Square in Aberaeron so I could get my bearings back.
“Sorry, can’t help you there” he said in a broad accent. “You’re in Birmingham, England!”
I thanked the gentleman turned around and ran back to the Professor’s house. When I arrived back I explained where I had gone and the Professor looked at his watch.
“Son, you can run at over 1,000 miles per hour!” and then he smiled, “You’re going to need a superhero name and costume!”
narfstar:
Good start fun so far
Welsh Comic Fan:
Part 2
“I have often thought of elections as the ultimate job interview and hope that over the last few weeks I have been able to answer your questions and receive your approval to become the new councillor for the Estuary of Aeron ward in the local elections”
I e-mailed the letter to the local newspaper and sat back in my chair.
“If that doesn’t win me the election” I thought to myself, “I don’t know what will!”
After updating my blog with almost the whole day’s events, it then occurred to me that if I didn’t win the election I would have plenty of time to take up the idea of being a superhero and so spent some time searching online for how superheroes behaved and soon discovered two trends. Firstly, all superheroes seemed to have moderately high-level positions. Superman and Spiderman were reporters, which allowed them to access emergencies before the general population were aware of them and secondly they all seemed to have a sidekick. I reasoned therefore that being a councillor would enable me to fulfil the first element of being able to attend something quickly however the idea of a sidekick did leave me scratching my head slightly as it would mean telling someone that I was now super powered. I did consider the idea of the Professor but reasoned that it should be someone younger than me and at the same time someone I could trust implicitly. These were decisions that would have to wait until after the election.
Election Day dawned and after visiting the Professor and asking his opinion on who I should consider as a sidekick he offered me a recharge and I was soon rushing around the ward visiting each and every house where an elector had said they would vote for me four times to ensure they had voted. As the sun started to set I sat on the beach near my home and smiled knowing whatever happened at the count, I had an alternative career all lined up. What I did not realise though was that my alternative career was going to start just a little sooner than I had banked on.
The polls closed at ten o’clock and I arrived at the counting centre a few moments later and joined the rest of my party colleagues busy trying to figure out what the exit poll published at the close of polls was saying. I suggested that based on past exit polls, it suggested a net gain of one councillor which they said seemed a reasonable assessment but they disagreed which of the wards would produce the net gain. As the ballot boxes started to arrive from the various polling stations I was most disappointed that they would not be counted until they all got there and after half an hour of waiting simply had to go to the toilet. I got back and was about to enter the counting section when I heard a scream. I peered in through the door and saw three people armed with guns holding the entire hall hostage. I ducked underneath the window and calmly made my way outside without saying a word and once out of sight ran like the wind to the Professor and explained what was happening at the count. He agreed that this seemed like a suitable occasion for my superhero persona to make his debut and after giving me a costume that resembled any number of superheroes gave me another recharge for good measure and wished me luck. I ran back to the count centre and screeched to a halt outside realising that part of the effect of a good superhero is a good entrance, so I jumped and aimed for the centre of the hall as I came crashing down in the middle of the count hall. Once the dust cleared, I stood heroically and improvised by saying “Who dares deny the electors of this county their right to a fair election? For they have incurred the wrath of Captain Democracy!”
Well, that certainly seemed to grab the gunmen’s attention and they levelled the guns at me. Inside my stomach was doing flips but I hoped that my bravado would pay off as the lead gunman stepped forward and declared that they were members of an international terror organisation that ruled all elections as illegal as they were being used to deny the true rights of people to vote against policies that were not being discussed and with that shot me right in the chest. Now, I will be the first to admit that I honestly did not expect that and due to the closeness of the shot I stepped backwards and tripped over a ballot box which prompted the leader to declare that they were victorious and with that marched towards the returning officer and said “You’re next!”.
“Not so fast!” I said, picking up an empty ballot box and jumping shoved it on top of the leader’s head and starting thumping on the top of it. The two followers pounced on me but I was able to resist them and deciding that this had gone on long enough threw them all into the air and in a show of anger that was quite unlike me punched them all to the far end of the hall where they hit the wall and collapsed in a pile where the policemen who had been guarding the ballot boxes arrested them. I went to the returning officer to see if she was all right and helped her to her feet. She thanked me and I replied with that old superhero cliché, “Thank you ma’am, but it’s all in a day’s work for Captain Democracy!” before leaping out of the hole I had made and landing behind the count centre. Quickly rushing back to the Professor’s where I changed back into my ordinary clothes, I rushed back all in the space of sixty seconds and casually entered the count centre and gasped at the sight of the three men being led out by the policemen and the hole in the roof of the count centre. I turned to the leader of our local party and asked what had happened. He showed me a video recording he had made on his cell phone and said “That’s what happened!” and as I watched I smiled slightly and said “Well, good on him then!”
Due to the mess I had made, the count had to be suspended and moved to another location, but once moved it continued apace and whilst monitoring my ward and getting results from other councils across the country via Twitter I noted that Captain Democracy was trending. I clicked on the hashtag #CptDemocracy and realised that my actions had gone viral and had been retweeted hundreds of thousands of times and that the video of my escapade was not only the most viewed item on YouTube in the whole of the UK, but that it was also being used on the BBC’s local election results programme. I was so taken by all this attention that I quite missed my own ward starting to count and was only brought back to reality by my Welsh Nationalist opponent pointing out that the ward has started to count.
“I, being the acting returning officer for the county of Cardigan hereby declare that the number of votes cast in the Estuary of Aeron ward in the local elections held this day were as follows: Llwyn, Estyn, Welsh Nationalist, 151 votes, Thompson, William, Independent, 117 votes, Watts, Stanley (commonly known as Sparky), Liberal Democrat, 544 votes. I therefore declare that the under mentioned person Watts, Stanley (commonly known as Sparky) has been duly elected as the member for the Estuary of Aeron ward”
I gently shook the hand of my opponents and approached the microphone with my Liberal Democrat friends cheering wildly as I had gained the ward from the Welsh Nationalists and started my acceptance speech.
“Madam Returning Officer” I started, “it is traditional that the winner of any election leads a vote of thanks and I for one am not willing to break that tradition. I would therefore like to thank not only yourself but also the poll clerks, presiding officers and counters who have enabled this election to be carried out in its usual smooth and efficient manner. I would also like to thank the police for their work and wish to let it be known that I (and I dare say all the other candidates here) appreciate their efforts”. As I paused there was an almighty round of applause. “I have to say that I am at this moment in time just a little on the shocked side, when some of the other results came through this evening I was wondering how much I was going to lose by, and so am genuinely stunned. Finally, there are two more people I should thank. First of all, the former member for this ward Cllr. Williams who has served his ward for the best part of 15 years and who I hope will now enjoy a long and welcome retirement from local politics and secondly, Captain Democracy who I am sure will look at this result as well as the other results coming in across the country this evening and smile, knowing that the British democracy is being performed in it’s usual manner!”
I was then asked to sign the formal declaration, which would confirm my position as the new councillor and after being interviewed by the local newspaper told my friends that I was feeling rather tired after a long day and went home. I got back just in time to watch the end of the local election results programme on the BBC and the presenter concluded the coverage saying “There was of course another winner in these local elections this evening and that was Captain Democracy who prevented a mass slaughter at the Cardiganshire count this evening. Whether you may be, Captain, the British people thank you!”
I stood to attention in front of the television and saluted before smiling to myself and went to bed and settled down to sleep before planning my new career as both a local councillor and a superhero.
Welsh Comic Fan:
Part 3
As the sun streamed through my window the following day, I yawned and wondered what time it was. I rolled other to where I expected to see my alarm clock and was rather perturbed when all I saw was more bed and the table with my alarm clock on it at least a mile away. I then reasoned that I had not put my glasses on and so put my hand out to reach out for my glasses and clearly missed as my hand landed on more bed. Pulling the bedclothes from me, I instantly realised that something was wrong as a very large face peered at me and meowed with the force of a hurricane and at a volume that could be literally described as deafening.
My pet cat looked at me with an expression that I could only describe as annoyance. I had clearly overslept and as a result had missed her breakfast, however that at the moment was the least of my problems as it dawned on me that the world had not grown, but that I had shrunk and I knew there was only one person who would be in a position to answer the question why, and that was the Professor. However, that posed another question. How to contact him?
My pet meowed again and shook me from my thoughts. She looked at me closely and I meowed as best I could to ensure that she did not mistake me for breakfast. As soon as I did, she started to purr and then promptly sat down. Deciding that I needed to make contact with the Professor as soon as possible, I scrambled out of the bed (slightly relieved that my pyjamas had also shrunk) and started climbing what could only be described as a Mount Everest of pussycat. As I passed her ears, I shouted as loudly as I could “Breakfast Time”. She jumped up, throwing me onto her back, jumped off the bed and charged downstairs with such speed that I held on for dear life, before coming to a halt in the kitchen and yowling! I slid down her back and remembering that I had put a bowl of cat food in the fridge the previous day (in case I did oversleep) used as much strength as I had to open the fridge door. As soon as I did, the cat smelt the food and dived straight in, leaving me to figure out why I had shrunk and how to reverse the process.
It took me the best part of half an hour to get to the front door as I wanted to see what post had arrived and was overjoyed to see a postcard (admittedly the size of a large town) from the Professor giving me his telephone number and e-mail address. I committed the number to memory and another hour later reached the telephone. I smiled as I saw it and thanked my stars that we had changed it to a cordless phone. I knocked it off it’s cradle and negotiating my way around it, dialled the number and set the phone ringing. A few seconds later it was answered.
“Ah” the Professor said, “I see that you got my postcard then. Enjoying being a superhero and councillor?” he asked
Taking a deep breath, I shouted at the top of my voice. “PROFESSOR, I’M THE SIZE OF A COIN!”
The Professor instantly hung up and within fifteen minutes there was a crashing of a window frame and the Professor climbed in through the living room window.
“Stanley?” he shouted, “where are you?”
Realising that I was liable to be trodden on, I stayed close to the phone and set it to ring. The Professor followed the sound and looked down and gasped. He scooped his hands together and brought me to his face.
“SO!” I shouted, “ANY EXPLAINATIONS?”
The Professor put me in his pocket and going out through the front door, got into his car and drove back to his house where he placed me under a microscope and placed a small loudspeaker next to me.
“Explain what happened” he asked and I related what had happened during the morning. After a while I could see that he was concerned and then suddenly he realised. He took the dish I was standing on and moved me outside telling me to stand still, then a few moments later, he returned with the machine and switched it on. As soon as he did I could feel myself growing and the Professor explained what had happened.
“I was afraid this would happen” he said, as I passed his ankle, “I was reading up on my great uncle’s notes and he said that Sparky had to be dosed with cosmic rays on a fairly regular basis. The first time he forgot and his dose ran out, he shrank until he was as small as a pinhead. You had a very lucky escape, my son, if your cat hadn’t had woken you up when it did you might have shrunk to nothingness”
Now past his waist, I thanked the Professor for his remedy and asked him if this meant that I was, in effect, addicted to cosmic rays and would need to have them for the rest of my life. The Professor stated that I was correct but that addicted was not the correct term. He said that I was dependent on them, but not exclusively to other things such as food and drink. “Consider it like taking a multivitamin supplement!” he said as I returned to my full height.
That evening, back at home, having finished repairing the window that the Professor broke, I decided to get back to the business of being a superhero councillor. The Professor had given me a small version of his machine that would dose me with eight hours worth of rays (enough to ensure that I didn’t shrink during the night) and promised that the next day he would come round to discuss my choice of sidekick and give me my daily recharge.
I knew that I couldn’t chose just anyone to be my sidekick and that whoever I chose would have to be someone I could trust implicitly. Going through my list of internet associates, all of whom had posted congratulation messages on my Facebook page and sent e-cards as well, I whittled the choice down to three people, printed off their credentials and spent the rest of the evening going through them with a fine tooth comb whilst listening to the analysis of the local elections on the television.
First up was Steve from Washington State in America. A retired pastor from a Lutheran church in Seattle, he was a keen gym enthusiast and had won several amateur bodybuilding titles since 2002 which ticked the high levels of fitness box, however he had e-mailed me a few days prior stating that he was going into hospital to have an infection with his ear looked at that might be cancerous. Realising that if it was, he would have to undergo a long treatment that would not enable him to keep his fitness levels high enough, I had to reject him with a heavy heart as we often talked about him being a superhero and he’d even sent me videos of him posing to the Superman theme.
Next up was Larry from Suffolk in England. A scoutmaster with the local troop, he was also an amateur bodybuilder and had also won a few titles as well, however he had just celebrated his 60th birthday and as such was considering retiring from the sport in order to concentrate on being a scoutmaster and I knew that it would be unkind of me to take him away from his dedication to the youth of Britain.
That just left Tom, from Pennsylvania and too all intents and purposes he seemed perfect. Aged just 25, he’d been training since age 8 thanks to his older brother and with weights since 13 and was now a very sturdy 6ft 3 and weighing close to 250lbs with the build to match. Checking some of his past feats proved that he was a perfect candidate as he’d won a collegiate power-lifting contest at State College in the state with a record 2,650lbs (600lbs deadlift, 1,300lbs squat and a state record 750lbs bench press) less than twenty-four hours before winning the junior Mr. Pennsylvania light heavyweight bodybuilding competition and just a mere week later qualified for the American Youth Olympics Freestyle Wrestling team in Singapore by winning the state championships defeating a person who had been tipped as future WWE star wrestler. I was confident that I had found my sidekick, the only problem was that he was the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Just then I had a thought, “Perhaps I should ask him personally?” I smiled as I e-mailed him asking for his address so I could place him on a map for the upcoming Mid Term elections.
Welsh Comic Fan:
Part 4
The Professor looked at my choice of sidekick as he charged me up with the maximum allowable dose, then turned to me.
“Well, he seems a good choice” he said, “but you do realise that as soon as you tell him who you are, you will put him, his family and perhaps even his home town at risk!”
“I understand completely” I replied, and explained that Tom had an older brother and a younger cousin both of whom were capable of lifting the others combined. “If three people weighing over 600lbs, and capable of lifting something like 800lbs between them can’t cope with that, then who can?”
The professor laughed as the machine pinged.
“May I ask why you’ve given me the maximum allowable dose?” I enquired, “you’re not going to drop a ten tonne weight from the International Space Station are you?”
The Professor took a walkie-talkie out of his pocket and pressed the talk button. “This is Ground Control to Space Station One, Operation Money Drop is not go, repeat not go, over!” and then he looked at me and burst out laughing. “No” he smiled, “but I thought that you might like to get to the United States quicker than by aeroplane!”
The Professor led me outside and asked me to start running on the spot. I was soon running so fast that my feet were blurs. He then asked me to stop running and start flapping my arms. I did and was amazed to discover that I was hovering above him. The Professor explained that due to the cosmic rays, I was moving my arms so fast that they acted like wings and that I was in effect, a human aeroplane. Slowing my arms down I landed with a bump and toppled over to sit down with a thump.
“All you need is a good run up” said the Professor, “jump and start moving your arms and you could get to America in a little under three hours!”
“In that case” I said, gesturing him to open his garden gate, “see you this evening!” as I started to run and was soon at top speed. At the edge of the cliffs, some three miles from the Professor’s garden, I jumped and started moving my arms as fast as I could and was soon heading towards America.
“Good morning, Tom” I said, “how does it feel to be called from the newest iPhone?”
Tom laughed and said that the signal seemed very impressive indeed, but that he had one criticism and that was the fact that there was a lot of background noise.
“Well, you know how it is” I replied, “I do live next to a main road and being outside is the only place to get a reasonable signal!”
Tom laughed again and as he did so I thought to myself “Of course, if I told you the reason was that I was flying towards you at just over Mach 3, you’d probably go into hysterics!” and smiled to myself as I started to see the American eastern seaboard come into view.
“So to what do I owe this pleasure?” asked Tom
“Well, first of all I just wanted to thank you for your kind message online about my election win” I started, to which Tom interrupted saying that he was pleased to see that I had won and hoped that I would put some common sense policies on the table. “Such as more baseball lessons, perhaps?” I said, as I flew over New York City.
“Not a bad idea that!” he replied.
“The second reason” I continued as I started to slow down and head towards southern Pennsylvania, “is that I would like to ask your opinion about something that I think might pique your interest and give you a chance to put all that strength you keep on bragging about to some practical use!”
“You mean besides giving my cousin a lesson in how to pin someone and outbenching my older brother!” he said, and laughed as I landed on the ground outside his house with a small thump.
“Indeed, I do” I said as I walked up his lane, “namely how would you feel about helping your local community?”
“I do that already” Tom replied as I came to his door, “what else could I do?”
“I’ll explain in a minute!” I replied, “it’s just I’ve another call coming through. Speak to you in a moment or so, okay?” and I hung up and pressed Tom’s doorbell. The door opened and Tom stood there stunned into silence.
“It was a wrong number!” I explained, smiling, “now, how about that idea I had!”
Tom looked at me incredously as I explained about the Professor and his machine.
“I know” I said, “if it had not happened to me, I wouldn’t believe me either. But I am telling the truth, at this present moment in time I am at least twice as strong as the World’s Strongest Man, about a quarter faster than Usain Bolt and I dare say would be able to hit one of your best pitches clear into Hawaii!”
Tom got up and without saying a word left the room. I wondered what he was up to and got my answer a few moments later when he re entered in his training shorts and gestured for me to follow him. I did so and found myself in his gym.
“That” he said, pointing to a bar, “is set up to challenge my personal best deadlift of 800lbs!” He went to the bar, squatted a few times and then put his hands on it. He grunted and performed a perfect deadlift, but instead of putting the weight down he held it and grunted, “If you’re strong, lift me up as well!”
I went behind him, grabbed his waist and lifted. Tom was so shocked, that he dropped the weight. I caught it with my ankle and gingerly placed it on the floor whilst lowering Tom. He staggered back and did not believe what he was seeing. Deciding that he needed some more help understanding I picked up the bar with my foot, bounced it like a ball into the air, caught it with one hand and started performing curls with it.
“You’re curling a 800lb bar” said Tom, gasping, “as if it was only 8lbs. You must be Captain Democracy then!”
“And we have a winner!” I smiled as I lowered the bar to the floor, “and that is why I would like you to be my sidekick. To date, you are only the second person to know my secret identity and that is why I have to ask the formal question!”
I shuffled into a mock martial pose and looked Tom in the eye, “Do you, Thomas Larry Johns, hereby agree to be my sidekick and never divulge my secret identity?”
Tom stood to attention and saluted, “Aye, Aye, Captain!” he said.
That evening, I reported that Tom had agreed to be my sidekick and that we had swapped mobile numbers and would meet up the following week after my first council meeting to discuss the formal operation of the partnership. As I left, the Professor pushed a small box into my hand “for use in emergencies”. I thanked him but said that the only emergency I was likely to face in the short term was remembering all of the other councillors names.
However, although I did not know it at the time, someone was planning such an emergency
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