“Aw, man, you should have seen nigga kick ass!” the pre-teen exclaimed to the gathered listeners outside the Te-Amo on the corner.

“Hey!” The shopkeeper, who had wandered out to see what a group of young kids were doing standing around by his door, made an angry fist at the boy.

“You stop with that ‘nigga’, you hear? I know you Bobby Reynolds, and I know your momma would smack the stupid out of your head if she heard you talking like that.”

“Sorry, Mr. Taylor.” The chastised boy shrugged and continued. “Anyway, it was on. Ni-… Uh, I mean, dude…”

He looked over his shoulder at the middle-aged shopkeeper who slowly nodded approvingly back, listening with his arms crossed at his chest.

“Anyway, things were looking ill. These bangers had rolled up on our building and were getting’ real rowdy, n’shit, tearing shit up and—“

He was stopped by a smack on the back of his head by Mr. Taylor.

“Sorry, Mr. Taylor,” the boy said again, adding under his breath, “Damn, can’t a brother tell a story?”

“Anyway,” the young boy continued, “This is how it went down…”

The crowd of kids leaned in, listening expectantly.

“I said where’s the money?” The young man in gang wear gestured menacingly at the family who, until the door was kicked in starting yet another home invasion, had been getting ready to eat dinner. Two other street toughs were eating it now, standing at the table and using their hands like animals, while the third did the talking.

“We don’t keep money in the house,” the oldest woman replied. She was middle-aged and very overweight, and her children clung to her.

“Look,” the pot-bellied man with grey at his temples who must have been the father said, hands raised, “there ain’t no money here. I got a credit card in my wallet. Just take that and leave us alone.”

“Man, shut the fuck up,” was the reply, followed by a blow to the father’s head with the butt of his nine. The wife and children screamed as the blow was struck, and the two girls began sobbing hysterically. The two bangers eating just laughed at what their friend did. One of them tossed a cleaned pork chop bone at the fallen victim.

“Shut those bitches up!” the gun-wielding tough yelled at the mother. “Now I know you got some money around here. You better tell me where it is quick before I start taking it out of your ass.”

With a glowing white aura and a deep frown, he stepped into the kitchen doorway. Taking in the scene in an instant, he raised his hand and gestured with a "give me that" expression towards the gunman. With a lurch that knocked the tough off of his feet, the pistol took on a white glow and tore itself out of his hands to glide over in front of the Negro hero in blue and white. His voice shaking with righteous anger, Brother Kinetic shouted at the gang bangers and closed his outstretched right hand into a fist.

"You're not taking anything from anybody and the only bitches 'round here are you and your weak posse! You think you're tough, you lame wannabes? Doing the right thing every day, day in and day out is tough. Being there for your family is tough! But you just want to take the easy way. Well now Brother Kinetic's gonna educate you before you wake up in lockdown!"

With that, the hanging gun crumpled into a fist sized ball and fell to the floor. Brother Kinetic flew over to the two girls and their mother and quickly scooped them all into his arms, his white glow covering them all.

"Smoke this fool," was the snappy comeback. The two who had been eating reached around to their backs and came out with automatic pistols. The loud reports from multiple shots rang down the hall and throughout the small apartment.

When the shooting stopped, all three gang punks were open-mouthed in astonishment. Nobody had been hit, and several bullets lay on the ground at the family's feet.

A pause.

"I'll see ya, G," one of the two shooters said to the third and they turned to run.

With the finality and power of a death sentence given by Darth Vader, Brother Kinetic spoke one word into the near silence after the shooter spoke. He said, “No!”

At that declaration he made a backhanded swing with his left hand at the running thugs. In that split second, a gang member’s face turned into a grimace of silent and breathless agony as he fell unconscious to the floor, his hands still reaching for his throat and his eyes rolling back into his head.

The second gangster had beat his remaining partner to the kitchen doorway when Brother Kinetic extended his arm and flattened his hand towards him. A huge translucent globe of white glowing energy erupted from the tips of his hand and filled the doorway holding the terrified and struggling criminal trapped inside. To the observer, he looked like an insect trapped on flypaper.

"Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they shall be satisfied.", Brother Kinetic declared in righteous conviction to the last gang member, hovering over him with his blue and white clad fist raised to punch him.

“This family will be satisfied, Justice will be satisfied, and you will have all the time you need to find God and take a new path.” Brother Kinetic smiled at the tough as his fist connected with the criminal’s jaw, “Here is your last lesson of the day: Dr. King once said, ‘The time is always right to do what is right.’”

Two thugs were down and one was trapped in a telekintic bubble, making futile attempts at hammering his way out with his fists.

"I said God-DAMMMMMMMMMN!" came from the huddled family behind him. A young boy, maybe ten or eleven, wiggled out from behind his mother's large embrace and came to stand next to the hero.

"You knocked his ass out! Pure Tyson baby! And look at this fool lookin' like a gerbil in a fun ball. Ha-ha!"

With a disapproving look, Brother Kinetic keeled in front of the boy, bringing his eyes level with the youngster. "Watch your language young man and do not take the Lord's name in vain. And since you stepped up, you get to call the police to arrest these criminals."

Brother Kinetic stood up quickly and turned to the remaining members of the family with a benevolent smile. "Do not fear, Brother Kinetic will remain with you and keep these thugs under control until the police arrive. At that point I will need your help, you have to press charges against these foolish men so that they will receive the full force of the justice system!"

"Look," the mother hesitantly replied to the glowing hero, "can't you just get them out of here? I don't want to talk to the police."

"Call five-oh?" the boy asked incredulously? "What are you, on crack?"

Brother Kinetic turned to the boy, his face scowling with barely repressed anger. "Young man, Brother Kinetic does not do drugs, nor does he tolerate those who do. Remember that! "

Turning to the mother his expression quickly changed from one of anger to that of patience, it was obvious that he had seen this before. "Ma'am I will do my best to protect you and all the other families, you have my word. But you really need to find some policeman that you can trust in times of trouble. As long as everyday people like you don't stand up for what is right, these criminals will always find another victim." he explained patiently.

After looking over the family, Brother Kinetic declared, "But these fools have been takin' up space in your home long enough, I'll take out this trash for you. May the Lord be with you all." With those last words he picked up the bodies of the unconscious bangers and effortlessly flew out out of the apartment building into the skies above Harlem, the one conscious thug still struggling inside the glowing orb that was his prison, following behind.

GM: Bump.