[center]The mustachioed man of momentous might simply brought a thick arm down in their bleak, rented office. The branch-like limb made a slight [i]whizz[/i] as it sped to a tremendous halt, it's meaty hand adorned by a similarly mighty, thumbs-up. "That is 'de spirit Mister Huff!" He joined the gesture along with his enthusiastic booming, directed of course at his incredibly odd acquaintance and partner.

A more serious tone enveloped the pair's face as they burst out of their cramped office, sprinting to their very first sanctioned hero-ing!

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[center][h2]CITY-U[/h2][/center]
[center][h2]7/3/2/50[/h2][/center]
[center][h2][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SRFhsMvWKmM&list=PLE63EFF9F728200AD&index=4]A FEW BLOCKS DOWN[/url][/h2][/center]
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Panning up to the two weirdos in their fanciful get-ups, a giant of an Italian lucha, flexing to strain the garments he'd been clad in, and his partner at arms, a thick-set man wearing his absurdly angular face, topped off by that. . . Interesting, higgledy-piggledy strawberry blond tufts of hair. Needless to say, the elderly woman astride the awful-green bench of the tram shelter shifted away quite readily.

Finishing up his session of prideful masculinity, the massive man turned about on the heel of his boot 'neath the slanted roof of their little station, to face the otherwise desolate street. Tapping his foot and humming a tune, 'Angelo gazed casually toward the other man at his words, responding in something of a rhetorical tone, "'De association has been doing its good work for all of fifty years now, yet there seems-a-to be no stemming 'de tide."

With a tremendous sigh, 'Angelo rummages deep into a pocket, twirling out a brass watch connected by chain. Clicking open in mid-air as if the mustachioed man had perfected this maneuver already, he glanced at its ticking hands and rightly stuffed it back in the recesses of his coat. And right on the cue of the hour, the great encroaching sound of a ramshackle old rattle-trap, janking down the line.

A flash of that very same foresty-green sputtered to a noisy halt, exactly across from the bitty shelter. From which that ancient grocery-carrying woman skittered right on off into its pneumatic doors. The serious expression then returned to the lucha's masked countenance, "Shall we be heroes then, mister Huff?" 

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They valiantly strode with purpose, dignity, and fervor across the cemented grounds to their destination. Ascending into screaming metal machine, their souls assaulted by a feeling most ominous, blasting forth from a disgruntled creature, hobbled in their jury-rigged leather. Its ragged visage shrouded in wild locks of stark white melding into a great beard.

"What are you two looking at?" The grizzled elder's neck creaked as his foreign and flat toned voice washed over the pair in a wave of force, who remained stunned for a moment. "Chop chop, get on tram, we have strict schedule."

The would-be-heroes of course complied, after gathering their wills once more stepped into the thin metal-sheathed car. "Two [b]Cúpon[/b]." He stated quite bluntly, rhythmically tapping the fare-basin whilst simultaneous glaring at his guests and shifting levers and switches all the while. And without a word, in their enthralled state, the pair deposited their bits of change and realized something dire. . .

That woman, she took the last open seat! Michelangelo and Arduous would have to [b]stand![/b]

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