Hello, my name is Jarret, and I am a superhero.

Well, I suppose by definition I'd be a superhuman, not a super hero, because I'm far from heroic.

But you'd be surprised at how well being able to slap anyone in the face works as a superpower.

* * *

Unlike some of the more well-known heroes, the ones in the comic books and such, I didn't get a cool origin for my superpowers. No radioactive spider, nothing. I just hit my head on a cupboard door at home and poof! I was able to slap people in the face telekinetically.

Either that, or I'd had the ability my whole life and had only just realized it then.

I still remember the look on my brothers face. I've never seen someone shift from "I'm nearly wetting myself laughing because you've knocked yourself out on a cupboard door" to "What the hell I've just been slapped in the face by an invisible hand" so quickly in my entire life, and I doubt you have either.

The superpower itself was the weirdest feeling. I just thought "Snarky bugger, I wish I could slap him in the face" and then he got slapped in the face. I was pretty convinced that I had just developed telekinesis or something. And when I tried to use it for other things and it didn't work, I then convinced myself that I had just had a wish granted for some reason. I thought that maybe my cupboard door was a genie.

Can you really blame me though? Who assumes they've gained a superpower that allows them to hit someone in the cheek with a thought? It's pretty absurd.

So then I tried running into the cupboard again, on purpose this time. My brother happened to be there again, but he knew better than to laugh at me this time. I tried slapping him in the face again anyway, and lo and behold, it worked!

It was right around then that it clicked. I tried slapping him again, and, much to his chagrin, it worked. Another time for good measure and I was convinced. Of course, he didn't take too kindly to this sort of treatment, and he proceeded to put me in a headlock.

Thirty seconds of rapid slapping in the face convinced him to let go, but I was more tired than I'd ever been in my life after that. Only some serious bluffing skills convinced my brother to go cry in his room instead of putting me in another headlock.

Apparently my powers had some limits.

* * *

Over time I grew a lot more skilled with my ability. I could slap someone non-stop for maybe an hour on end without getting too tired, and could even knock someone over with a single slap if I put enough effort into it.

I also developed the ability to slap someone over long distances.

It started when I was watching the news one night.

We had, I swear, the single most annoying anchorman of all time. If you've seen that Will Ferrel movie, imagine him, but on a whole lot of drugs and mentally handicapped, and then give him an even bigger ego. It was that bad.

So I'm sitting there thinking, "You know what would set this guy straight? A good slap in the face. It's too bad I'm not at the studio." And then he gets this weird look on his face and stares at the anchorwoman like she's slapped him or something.

It was probably the most epic moment of my life until then, but it also lead to the most important.

* * *

Not many people knew about my powers at that point. My brother was sworn to secrecy, a couple of my close friends knew, and I'm pretty sure that jerk jock at school suspects something, since I've slapped him at least tree times when he hasn't been looking, but other than that it solid. So I figured I was safe.

Safe enough to get away with slapping the President of the United States of the America on live-broadcast national television.

Me and my friends had been planning something this big for a long time, and the president seemed like the ideal candidate. After all, who didn't want to slap that guy? So we all waited for his next speech and, on the big day, crowded around our TV.

"Oh no. No no no no no."

It was my brother. He had just walked into the room, and had obviously guessed what we were up to. He looked pretty scared.

"Oh yes," I said with a grin.

* * *

The president went down like a rock. They all thought he'd been shot; the Secret Service was in a panic.

We were on the floor, laughing and crying and rolling around, barely able to breathe. Even my brother cracked up after the shock wore off and we convinced him we were perfectly safe. No one would be able to find us.

Or so we thought.

The End

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