To Whom It May Concern

To whom it may concern,

If you are reading this letter, you may either be surprised, angry, or not reading this letter for very long. To the media all I’m ever known as is a goon or a henchman, or worse, a “Rubberband”, thanks to that pseudo-hero Gold Guardian. I have a name and it is Samuel White, not that any of you ever cared to ask. I don’t really blame you, though. I know my own choices put me here and I have no one to blame but myself, especially for having some hope that I could find help while I was drowning in my mistakes.

In the case that my boss is reading this, fuck you. You have so many “rubberbands” around; you’ll probably not even make it through half this letter. I know that you’re so hungry for attention that you invited all the news outlets to see the big battle between Doc Elastic and Clockwork, but you crossed a line. You’ve had some crazy ideas but my god, even I had to stop this from getting worse.

All it took was one small crime in the wrong place and the wrong time, and my inability to say no to powerful people. I was only twelve when Magic-Cal found me stealing some candy bars, while he was apparently robbing the whole place. Boy, I was scared. I was just some lanky kid looking at some flamboyant figure prance around and laughing while his crew was beating up the owners in back. Apparently, I had some guts to steal from a place that was getting its’ owner beat up, but I thought I was just dumb. From there, all he had to do was call me with the promise of money and I would stupidly pick up and I would be there. Soon, it wasn’t just Magic-Cal. I received calls from Sinnamiss, Crimson Chemist, and of course, Doc Elastic.

The so-called heroes were no better. There would be times where I was just hired to make sure some warehouse didn’t get busted into, and three hours into it, some caped bastard would swoop in and turn us into bloody nobodies; I wasn’t even armed half the times. The first time I ever saw Blue Bolt I was just driving Sinnamiss to some night club, when I saw a bolt suddenly pierce my windshield and hit my shoulder. The shock and pain caused me to veer the vehicle into a parked car. I tried to back the car up, but as soon as I shift the gear, a gas canister is shot at me and I’m soon unconscious.

I have a family, you know? Because of my record, jobs are incredibly hard to find. The only jobs I can find don’t pay enough to support my child or my girlfriend, Crystal. Crystal has cancer, by the way. That’s what all the money was for, not that any of you cared. We didn’t want our daughter, Emma, to grow up without a mother. These small, legit jobs that are hiring are barely paying enough for me to feed them and pay for Crystals’ treatments. At least with payrolls from these affluent villains I can make sure Crystal and Emma are comfortable. All I want is for them to be happy.

Today, a line was crossed. I was called to some abandoned TV studio to make sure some shipment came in. Doc Elastic had me wait next to a huge glass box filled with water, but guess what? It’s an aquarium! I just saw a construction dump truck back into the studio through the huge doors, and there is a shark in it! Can you believe it? I have been part of the “RubberBand” because of Doc Elastic, but I will die before I’m a part of a plan that kills an animal.

The truck driver came out of the truck wearing “Sea Life Prosper” gear and a clipboard in his hand. As soon as I read the papers he gives over to me, I realize that there is a shark in the truck. I heard the water sloshing around, but I was hoping it was just water. My hands tremble as I give the clipboard back, unsigned. The driver gets nervous and agitated, forcing the clipboard back onto my chest. I push him away and tell him to drive off, but he refuses to. He pulls a gun on me and screams at me to sign it. This fucker must not know that I’ve been doing this for about twenty years.

As you may have noticed, this letter is stapled to his head. Sorry for the mess, by the way. He’s only unconscious with a broken rib, which is much better than what would happen to him if Gold Guardian or Bronze Brawler caught him. Trust me, the only thing heroes care about is their self-image. So whether you’re a hero or a villain, a cop or a pedestrian, just know that you can find another way to live your life without hurting others. Otherwise, you’re no better than me or all my crimes.

I’m taking this truck back to the ocean and freeing this beautiful, big, great white shark. She has nothing to do with your big-stick contest and I refuse to be a part of her killing anyone. I have made so many terrible choices in my life, convincing myself that it was for my family, but they don’t deserve to have a killer as a father or a future husband. You won’t ever see me again, which shouldn’t bother you too much anyway seeing as how you barely knew I existed in the first place. Get some patsy or some other dumbass to do your dirty work, but leave innocent animals alone. If I was able to find a way to put up with all these crazy ass requests I’ve gotten over time, I can figure out how to get this shark back with her family.

By the time you read this, either Doc’s plan was foiled or you stumbled upon this early. Either way, it’s too late. By now, I’m no longer part of the “RubberBand” and I promise I’m no innocent civilian either. There are other, normal lives out there. I’m just a man with a family, and I plan to go back to them. They deserve someone with integrity. This shark deserves to be back where she belongs. You all deserve each other. I’m out of this game, so find some other hopeless bastard to manipulate and abuse. Samuel White is choosing a different kind of life.