Death Skull let out a hysterical cackle, which echoed piercingly from the stone walls of his lair.
"Why so combative?" he said, emerg ing from the shadows. "At the end of the day, we're not so different, you and I."
"What are you talking about?" Ultra Man demanded.
"We are both strangers to this world," Death Skull intoned. "Maligned, misunderstood. We make our own paths, live by our own rules, refuse to compromise for anyone. Yes, in many ways, we are the same."
Ultra Man squinted at him. "I don't know, man," he said. "That's a pretty big stretch. Like, I know we both wear capes, or whatever. But I stand for good, and you stand for evil. That's about as different as it gets."
"Hmm," Death Skull murmured. "Hmm."
"I told you it was pointless," Death Skull said to his wife, Jackie. "It's impossible to make friends after forty."
"I do it all the time," Jackie said.
"It's different for guys!" Death Skull shricked.
"I want more specifics," Jackie pressed. "What did Ultra Man say when you asked him if he wanted to be friends with you?"
Death Skull averted his black eyes.
"Let me guess," Jackie said. "You didn't do it like we practiced."
"I'm not going to just walk up to him and say, 'Please be my friend,"he scoffed. "I mean, what is this, kindergarten?"
He let out a cackle, but the echo wasn't great, because their apartment had carpeting.
"O.K., so Ultra Man isn't a good fit," Jackie said. "That doesn't mean you have to give up on friendship. Why don't you try joining a group for villains, like the Terrible Ten or the Harvard Club?"
"The dues are obscene!" Death Skull thundered. "I don't even play squash!"
"Look," Jackie said. "If you want to stop being lonely and don't try to pretend you're not, because you already admitted it when you were drunk-then you've got to be more open-minded." She headed for the kitchen.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der May 13, 2024-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der May 13, 2024-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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GET IT TOGETHER
In the beginning was the mob, and the mob was bad. In Gibbon’s 1776 “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” the Roman mob makes regular appearances, usually at the instigation of a demagogue, loudly demanding to be placated with free food and entertainment (“bread and circuses”), and, though they don’t get to rule, they sometimes get to choose who will.
GAINING CONTROL
The frenemies who fought to bring contraception to this country.
REBELS WITH A CAUSE
In the new FX/Hulu series “Say Nothing,” life as an armed revolutionary during the Troubles has—at least at first—an air of glamour.
AGAINST THE CURRENT
\"Give Me Carmelita Tropicana!,\" at Soho Rep, and \"Gatz,\" at the Public.
METAMORPHOSIS
The director Marielle Heller explores the feral side of child rearing.
THE BIG SPIN
A district attorney's office investigates how its prosecutors picked death-penalty juries.
THIS ELECTION JUST PROVES WHAT I ALREADY BELIEVED
I hate to say I told you so, but here we are. Kamala Harris’s loss will go down in history as a catastrophe that could have easily been avoided if more people had thought whatever I happen to think.
HOLD YOUR TONGUE
Can the world's most populous country protect its languages?
A LONG WAY HOME
Ordinarily, I hate staying at someone's house, but when Hugh and I visited his friend Mary in Maine we had no other choice.
YULE RULES
“Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.”