See the creep creep?
See now how he runs?
See the people chase the red cape over the dirty red carpet?
See the pervert at his lowest?
The yellow ‘S’ on his chest stands for Superstupid.
How dare he use his x-ray vision
To peep at the ladies’ unmentionables?
How dare he use his heat ray vision
To strip them of all decency?
And in a public place, too!
The public demands justice and retribution,
So with shackles of kryptonite
Our Supercreep staggers and kneels before the ladies,
Begging for their forgiveness, their pardon.
He is granted none.
Now he runs weakly through the crowds,
Stumbling this way and that
To the hissing and chanting and spitting,
“Supercreep! Pervert! Peeping Tom!”
“Degrader of women! Humiliator of females!”
That the ladies are villains, is beside the point.
That the ladies were in the process of robbing a bank,
Is beside the point.
The point is, they were ladies.
It would seem, at last,
As he stumbles and falls unconscious and well-beaten,
The Supercreep has learned his lesson well.
But where are the ladies now?
And what of the bags of gold and diamonds and money?
Gone? All gone?
Perhaps we have learned a valuable lesson, too?