Oldtower suddenly felt an irresistible urge to brush his teeth. He had this thing about feeling like his teeth were dirty: he simply could not think of anything except brushing them. For this reason, he always carried a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush in a sealed plastic bag in his back pocket.
Now, Oldtower knew that this was kind of odd and he prided himself in being an ordinary sort of guy. So, years ago, he had decided that this was the one little area where he was going to splurge, and allow himself to be un-ordinary.
So, between interviews, he stalked across the bank, avoiding making eye contact with anyone and entered the Men’s room. After relieving himself, (he hadn’t realized he’d needed to do that until he got there—Men’s rooms always seemed to have this affect on him) he washed his hands at the sink and pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste.
He couldn’t help but notice that there was a big guy wearing pink tights and a sleeveless orange shirt standing there, admiring his disgustingly huge biceps in the mirror. Oldtower tried to ignore him and just brush his teeth. He was feeling a great sense of relief as his teeth were scrubbed clean and his breath was freshened and he sighed contentedly and turned the water on to rinse out his mouth.
Just then, the man in tights said a cheerful, “Hello there! Are you a detective?”
“Uhn-hun-g-shlp,” said Oldtower, his mouth full of toothpaste. He bent down to spit, but the man kept talking so quickly and Oldtower felt it would be rude to not answer.
“Are you investigating the robbery?”
“Blyeoss, gI mam.”
“Well then, boy do I have a lot to tell you!”
Oldtower spit into the sink. “Oh, are you a witness?”
“Nope. I’m a participant!”
“No, I mean, I participated in trying to stop them,” the man laughed loudly. “Not in robbing the bank.”
“Oh, I see. What happened?”
“Well, this goon with a green face and a wacky hair-do that reminded me of a Chihuahua in a swimming pool, came into the bank, strutting in like he owned the place. ‘Course, he was holding two big guns, so he clearly thought he would be ownin’ the place soon enough.”
Oldtower took a mouthful of water and made a quick rinse while the strange man was talking. Not another wild story, he thought. But he listened anyways. He was now in a good mood due to the nice, clean, fresh feeling in his mouth.
“Then what?” he prompted after he had spit the watery toothpaste out.
“Well, it doesn’t do to have armed idiots like him making people scream and demanding money from poor helpless tellers. So I grabbed him by the gnarly hair on the back of his neck and growled into his pointy ears; ‘I think you’d better quit this dump lickidy-split if you don’t want to suddenly develop bruises all over your body.’
“Oh, he was scared, but he was quick, too. He put his gun to the forehead of the poor teller and said, ‘lemmy go or I’ll shoot!’ So I let him go. I figured there’d be time enough to get him once he was forced to release the teller and leave. And I was right, too. He got all the money she could hand him in two minutes, with the help of some of her friends, into a big blue bag, and then he made a scoot for the door. I, of course, intercepted him by punching him in the stomach. Oh, but was he tough. We then had the fist fight of a life time. Of course, it didn’t hurt me one bit, as I’m invincible.” At this point the man in tights poked his bicep with gross self-admiration.
“Oh,” said Oldtower, and took another rinse.
“Anyhow, he finally ran away, all black and blue and bleedin’ from just about everywhere. Everyone was watchin’ me and cheering me and in the heat of the moment, I overlooked the fact that he still had the money bag. A simple mistake, anybody might've done it. But he shouldn’t be hard to catch, now. Since he’s all bunged up.”
“Ok,” said Oldtower again, putting away his toothpaste and toothbrush. “Thank you for your help. What’s your name, sir?”
“Mr. Invincible, of course. I thought you’d recognized me! Everyone had heard of me.”
“Oh, right, yes. Just took me a moment,” Oldtower did not want to get the big guy angry. He didn’t really believe a word the man had said, but listening anyways was just part of the job description. “Mind giving your name and info to the folks at the door before you leave the bank?”
“K, sure,” said Mr. Invincible. “If they are still there when I get out. I’m rather busy, you know.” And he went back to inspecting his biceps in the mirror.
“Nice meetin’ you!” said Mr. Invincible as the door swung shut.
“Yeah, you too,” muttered Oldtower to himself as he stepped over a bright yellow feather lying on the ground outside the Men’s room. This was going to be a long night. But at least his teeth were clean.