The Clubhouse, the base of the International League of Super-Transbeings located on Freedom Isle…
A group of heroes milled around chatting. I stood between Glop and Turbo waiting for the class to begin.
The hologram of the instructor appeared before us. He wore a brightly colored unitard with a headband and leg warmers. His hair poked over the edges of the headband.
“Alright, heroes,” he said in a voice that should only be reserved for fitness instructors and car salespeople, “let’s begin today’s hero yoga poses. I hope everyone remembered to warm-up before class.”
I doubted anyone warmed-up; my suspicions were confirmed by the amount of muttering, whistling, and loss of eye contact.
“First,” said the instructor, “the landing pose.”
We all got low with one leg out and one fist on the ground. We held our other arm straight up.
“Now, the explosion power walk.”
We puffed out our chests, raised our heads, and walked in place slowly.
“Remember not to look back at the explosion,” said the fitness instructor. “Next, the up, up, and away.”
We held one arm skyward, bent the opposite leg up towards our chest, and rested the corresponding arm next to it with our fists clenched. We looked skyward.
“Excellent. The classic.”
We stood straight and put our hands on our hips.
“The team power pose.”
Glop and I flanked Turbo. He stood stiff with his arms stretched but slightly away form his legs. Glop and I stood with our backs to him; we raised one arm and one leg trying to make ourselves look like lightning bolts.
“The epic crossover team up,” said the instructor.
Everyone in the class stood in a circle back to back. We made various poses as the camera (aka the instructor) moved around us in a circle.
“Tighten up your stomach, Ripper,” said the instructor. The young hero sucked in his gut.
The hologram returned to his position at the front of the class. “The reveal.”
We pretended to rip open our shirts. We puffed out our chests and arched our backs.
“Powerful action pose.”
We threw a hook punch like we were hitting a villain’s face; but instead of relaxing, we held the pose.
As one, we punched the sky with a heroic, “YEAH!”
“Victory pose,” said the instructor.
We placed one hand on our hip then flexed the other arm and smiled for the camera.
“And finally, the Easter egg.”
We pretended to hold a car over our heads and smash the front bumper into a boulder.
The instructor clapped overly enthusiastically as the class relaxed. “Excellent work today, everyone! Don’t forget to practice your poses at home. We’ve got to stay fit for our battle against evil. See you all Thursday!”
The instructor hologram vanished with another boo-whip; the students immediately started chatting again.
Copyright Joe Rover 2021. All rights reserved.
Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading!
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