Click and the Cliques


"Really? Again?" 

Click moaned in irritation. He unlocked his SensorBeam 3 and found that there were 12 new messages. "Delta Squad wants you, Click!" he read one aloud, "Join the Saviours' Legion, Click!" another invited.

It seemed that every superhero group, major or minor, wanted Click to join them. Without warning, 4 more messages popped up. Click growled in utter frustration. "How'd they get my number, anyway?!" 

"Click, have you heard?"

Click turned around to see a pale old man walking up to him. Although he appeared very old, he didn't seem to have any major health problems. Lucky old guy. "What is it?" Click replied.

"The country is imposing a new law," the elderly man answered, "Starting next week, any 'rogue' superheroes who don't belong in a respectable team will be labelled as public enemies of the nation."

"That's... not good", Click sighed. 

He patted the old man on the back. "Thanks for the info, you're a lifesaver", Click chuckled. 

As the hunchbacked man hobbled away, Click reopened his phone and went over the countless team invites once more. There had to be one team he agreed with, even a little. As much as Click loathed those bigoted superhero freaks, this was the only way he could continue to save lives legally. 

"Click, glad you could make it!" the receptionist at the desk greeted. 

Click nodded and gave a slight smile, but only out of courtesy. This building seemed much too flashy for his tastes. "Your interview is scheduled for 3:25, in room 43. That's on the 4th floor, by the way."

Click gave another quick nod and proceeded to the nearest elevator. Inside, a tall, blond haired man was also going up, but to the 6th floor. "Hey, you're NET, aren't you?" Click inquired.

The blond fellow stroked a part of his hair and chuckled. "You bet. Click, right? Pleasure to meet you. I've heard great things about what you've been doing for this city."

They shook hands. Suddenly, NET began to wince, almost as if in pain. Click let go of his hand and the pain seemed to subside. "Hey, are you all right?" Click gasped.

NET had never looked more confused in his entire life. "What the..." he muttered. 

Moments later, the elevator hit floor 4 and came to a halt. "I'll be seeing you then", Click said, waving goodbye to the blond hero. "That was freaking weird", he muttered under his breath once the elevator doors closed. 

In room 43, Click found himself alone at a table with a bald man in a suit. Although not a superhero, he was in charge of admission into the league. "So," Click chuckled, "Does the ASI have a lot of surplus income, building a headquarters like this? How'd you get the cash, stick ads on peoples' backs after saving them?" he teased. 

The man ignored this rude remark and proceeded with the interview. "Click, you've basically already been accepted into the Army of Superhuman Individuals, we just need a few signatures and such."

A stack of 11-30 papers were thrust towards Click. "What am I, signing up for a Hollywood reality TV show?" he sneered.

The man gave Click a look that said, "Look, I don't like you. Sign the papers."

Click shook his head in disbelief of the ridiculousness, grabbed a pen and signed his name on all 22 papers. The bald man stitched the symbol of the ASI onto the back of Click's trench coat. It was finished. 

"So, Hank, can I call you Hank?" Click asked jokingly.

"No", came the brash response.

"Well, whatever. I need to know, what are my obligations? You know, meetings, group missions, etc."

"I'm not in charge of that, sir. You'll have to ask a superior, such as Vigilantor or NET."

"NET..." Click whispered, "Weird guy."

The End

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