The unintentional superhero and me, world renown shapeshifters By: Dylan Paul

He smokes a cigarette outside on his stoop and looks off into the night.

"You know what I think?" He says, "I think everybody in this entire world, should live life like an RPG (Role Playing Game)."

In the fixed mind of my superhero, he sees himself as the rogue and I can see it too. In his dreams I imagine him running up to some horrible monster and spilling its guts out with an eviserate attack, his shimmering daggers stained with the purple monster goo of freedom.

I call him the unintentional hero because sometimes, I think he can also see himself is such a quest. His stealthy gear making him look like the buccaneer from hell.

Lately, I grow more concerned because time seems to weigh heavy on our lives with the continually moving battle of age and as I look at my superhero, he seems to be never discouraged or crestfallen or worried about such things as time or money or adventure because all the adventure he needs is right within his own skull and crossbones.

Our adventures have been diverse from fighting on the fields of battle where two towns made of sticks and twine destroyed each other, to the ocean depths in a pool out back to a time when sea foxes ruled the sea and played happilly with each other as otters. Once we were racoons, another time, elves; we even managed to fly to Hollywood, in one night, and visit both Tim Burton and Stephen Spielberg and see their magnificent theme park houses and be back before first dawn. More recently though, the battles have grown bigger and more real but the war is being won.

As he sits there on his stoop and takes the last puff of his cigarette, I am reminded of how we indeed have lived our lives as an RPG. However, in my mind, we are far more than rogues or magicians (in the making of our lives there are things that seemed magical) but rather a new class, something that changes day by day, we are the shapeshifters, unintentional heroes fighting in a world that most people may never get to see. Our exploits are diverse and publish more stories than one reporter can tell in a day, or a short collumn for that matter, but as he puts out his cigarrette and says, "peace dude, I'll see you tomorrow," I can see the rogues cloak as he shuts the door; the sea fox tail wiggle as he walks away; the unintentional superhero who could exist in any person but one rose to meet the chalange. I see my best friend and someone who I can call brother walking away to fight the good fight. In reality, I hope he wins as much as the superhero that I know him to be.