It was the wacky anything-goes 80s. Everybody who was anybody had a secret identity. Most didn't use their real last names, though.
Hey, I had some fun, met some chicks. Made out with Wonder Woman after a Duran Duran concert. I had to get her a little drunk first, and it wasn't cheap; those Amazons can put it away (and riding in an invisible plane piloted by a 'faced superheoine? Monumentally baaaaad idea).
The one disappointment in my crimefighting career: no invitation to join the Justice League. You'd think it would be, like, automatic for a guy with my name, but nooooo.
The costume still fits, though. Hey, I wouldn't lie to you.
No. Wait. I would. I had it let out. About four times. But I'm still sexy in those white pants. Yowzah!
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