In realising my destiny to save the world by butchering reclusive academic types I have been inspired by many other heroes, not the least of whom are the newest batch of heroes: the heroes of 'Heroes'.
And not the least of whom is the cheerleader.
Now, I know what many of you have instantly and erroneously assumed.
Yes, she is a gorgeous young beauty in the full bloom of womanly fecundity, but what stirs within me is not base rutting instinct but the desire to protect her from all harm. Yes, I know she's indestructable and I'm not, and that I wouldn't actually...
Look, to use a grossly insufficient metaphor, she is the new tightly-curled rose bud; I am the attentive gardener; and all other men are aphids.
She is a rose, or a perfect sunset, or a baby deer - and, as I have stated before, I have never had sex with a deer.
It is therefore my sworn duty to ensure she is free of all lustful advances and dies a virgin.
That is unless she wants to be double-teamed by the Veronicas with strap-ons.
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