Rejection

I went to the office to Register today, and it did not go well, and I can understand why. While I was able to get a reasonable simulacrum of my old costume, I was without my beloved Buick Electra, and everyone knows that a captain without a ship can only be a deranged old man. I will now detail how the visit went:

I walked into the office and said, "Hello, is this where I register for the act?"

The Government Agent was busy looking at some paperwork, and said, "Yes." After he pulled out some forms, he looked up and saw me for the first time. He had to stifle his laughter, and was only able to say, "Who are you? The Yachtsman?"

Despite his less-than-professional demeanor, I replied, "No, sir. I'm the Land Captain!"

At this point, he sat back down and filled in something on the form. He adjusted his glasses, and said, "Well, Land Captain. I have to be frank with you: you don't look like a costumed hero. Do you have any powers or gimmicks that aid you in your career?"

"I used to," I said, thinking about my car which now laid at the bottom of the sea, "It was lost when I came to this world."

"So you're an alien?"

"No, I used to live on Earth. Then I defeated some aliens and somehow ended up in this universe."

The man looked thoughtful for a second, then seemed to remember something, "I think I remember you from the reports. Did you..." more stifled laughter, "arrive here on February 3rd?"

I thought for a moment, and replied in the affirmative.

"Why didn't you go with our agents then to register?" he asked.

"I hadn't been here for a half-hour yet. It was all so confusing."

The man sat down, put my unfinished paperwork in a file, and folded his hands, "I'll be honest with you. From where I'm sitting, you look like another guy trying to take advantage of all the chaos going on right now to make a quick buck. Yesterday we had a man come in here in a suit of armor made of emptied cans of Mister Pibb claiming to be Sir Soda. If you like, however, we can take a sample of your DNA and send it to the main office to see if you really are from another universe. If that's the case, then we have no choice but to accept your claims, or maybe we can send you back. That'll take until Monday, though, so I'd advise finding a place to stay until then."

"All right," I said, "What do you want? Hair? Blood?"

"Some of each," said the man, "Though you'll have to go to the office down the hall to do so. Also, no costumed heroics until we have all this cleared up."

I nodded, and went to send in the DNA samples, then I wandered around the city and came back here and changed into some civilian clothes and came on here. I'm waiting for Maria to come home, to tell her the bad news. It'll be a long weekend.