My name is Kimmy Clarkson, and if you’re wondering how I ended up here, so am I. As an intern for Channel Twelve’s Daytime News Desk, I usually cover stories like community bake sales or lost pets—so naturally, my supervisor thought I was the perfect candidate to interview a self-proclaimed supervillain. And by “perfect candidate,” I mean the only one who couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough.

  Finding Glitter’s so-called “hideout” was surprisingly easy. I’d expected a shadowy lair on the city’s outskirts, but what I found was a building impossible to miss. Painted bright pink, coated in what had to be industrial-grade glitter, and crowned with neon signs flashing GLITTER'S LAIR—NO HEROES ALLOWED, it was less villainous fortress and more of a red light district attraction. There was even a rooftop terrace. Naturally.

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  The elevator ride to the top was accompanied by synth-pop remixes of famous villain monologues—because of course it was—and deposited me onto a terrace strung with twinkle lights. That’s where I met Glitter. First impressions? Imagine a walking disco ball with an attitude problem. His shimmering pink-and-silver costume caught every bit of light, and the dramatic cape suggested he’d been waiting his entire life for a gust of wind.

  After settling into a surprisingly comfortable chair, I did what any responsible journalist would: I asked about his origin story. Before I could blink, Glitter reached into a glass bowl, pulled out a slip of paper, and read it like a writing prompt. Without hesitation, he launched into a tale that sounded suspiciously familiar and altogether incredulous.

  I kept my composure as best I could. My job, after all, is to report the facts—not to question the methods of a man whose criminal résumé seems to involve more glitter than actual crime.

  This was going to be a long night…