Frampton Compton undressed lazily at dawn. The patrol had been intense and exciting. It was time to send the superhero to bed and the supercostume to the washing machine. Only two hours to alarm ring. He had to decide between sleeping or having breakfast. “Bellyman” opted for resting and eliminating the body excuse for that horrible nick. The double-life man read briefly a The Mighty Avengers Marvel Comic and glimpsed a New York City postcard with the word “twilight” written on it. He slept on a brand new name: A vindicator...only working at night...masked hero... This was it! The Twilight Avenger. Spectacular. Sublime. Terrific. The bad guys’ lash. Like a kick in the very face. But he had to start doing some exercise: Sit-ups and push-ups. And no more cocoa cream with honey and peanut butter spread on the doughnuts. But the clock woke up both his body and his stomach. Maybe tomorrow. After dinner. Or supper.