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The Adventures of SCOTSMAN/1

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Warning: This story is not for those who can't hold their haggis!



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ZOOOM


"There goes Scotland's beloved protector and warrior, hailing from the Upper Borderlands! Stronger than ten caber-tossers! Faster than a Highlander! Stomach stronger than an average Scotsman! Och aye, it's Scotsman!"

"I'll say, Campbell! Never before has Scotland seen such a capable lad like himself!"

"But he wasn't always like that, was he, McRoger?"

"Nah, he used to be a fairly average Scotsman (pardon the pun), until, as rumours have it, he gained his powers from a haggis-related incident."

"Cor, I gotta try and eat some more of that stuff!"

"Hah hah, watch your appetite!"

...

Sun rises from the shadows of thae night. I too arises from mah bed. Doug McEricson, mah name is. As ye could guess by my name, I'm born a Scotsman. Unfortunately, ye wouldn't guess that if you saw, walking down the road, meself one day. Well, back in the old days, you wouldn't. Ye see, I am what they call ye, a superman. A superhero. And I became one overnight, from some weird bowl of haggis that I ordered at the local cornershop. That wasn't the whole day, mind ye. More was yet to come for wee little me. Here, let me tell ye more.


THE ADVENTURES OF SCOTSMAN

Issue 1: Sunrise

It all started on one wee day, when I was reading the morning paper during the morning meal in the morning.

McERICSON: Och, that's one interesting story. First she bought a company for only 300,000 pounds, but then lost it again when the previous owner claimed insurance after a fire. {flips page}

Usually, I read mah paper for several hours, but today was a special occasion.

{A beep emits from the direction of McEricson's pants.}

McERICSON: Ach, what now? {reaches into his pocket and pulls out an Android and studies it} Aye, that's right, the boss wanted me in for something. Ye don't ignore the boss. {puts the Android back in his pocket and walks out of the room}

I was unique among the residents at mah workplace because I was the only one who did any work, ye see. As such, the boss wanted me in only on Thursdays and Fridays so not to upset the fellow workers when I ended up getting all the important stuff. As today was a Monday, I found the whole situation a wee bit fishy. Not like haddock, mind ye. The stuff stinks too much.

{Cut to where McEricson is sitting in a office.}

BOSS: So, McEricson, I heard ye like Mud--I mean this job.

McERICSON: Only if money is what comes out of it, sir.

BOSS: Indeed.

{The boss stands up.}

BOSS: We have a wee little proposal for ye, McEricson.