Vaginamouth & Friends

Hi, its me the narrator again! Can you believe that they'd sideline me for a comic strip last chapter! The indignity! The stupidity! It wasn't even a funny joke! It was brutal as an elephant sitting on a safari van! The only good part was they followed the rules set down by 'The Great Comic-book Superhero Code: Laws On How You May Be Creative With Your Story'. "Rule # 7: When your hero does their first heroic act it must be done saving a woman from a back alley mugging or rape, but not both." Kudos to you stupid cartoonist! You read the rulebook.
"Hey! Your supposed to be narrating!"
Oh yeah, sorry Vaginamouth. You technically aren't supposed to talk to or reconize the existence of the narrator in rule # 32, but we'll let that slide.
Well, no where did that comic leave us... oh yeah!
"You're sure a good guesser," the rapist scum spat through a mouth of broken teeth.
Vaginamouth wordlessly turned the man around and forced him to his knees in the faint moonlight of the back alley. The lady he was saved from rape was getting up and rubbing her eyes, checking that what she saw was real. The vigilante bound the criminal's legs and arms together and left him flopping on the ground.
Vaginamouth turned and gave a little bow to the woman, who was now standing up looking confused.
"I saved you ma'am, you may now report this horrible fellow to the police," Vaginamouth exclaimed, tipping his hat at her.
"He's probably not going to pay me now," she mumbled.
"What?" Vaginamouth's eyes lit up in surprise behind his mask of terror.
"He's one of my higher paying customers, he likes it a little bit rough and differnt," she explained. "But he's not quite that kinky. I think tying him up was definately a turn-off."
"Wait," Vaginamouth realized what he had done. "You're a prostitue?"
"Um... yes," she answered, hands on her hips. "Do you think regular people dress in knee high boots with short skirts and fish nets? What's it to you anyways, you aren't some kind of carzy coustumed hero who dishes out vigilante justice to criminals in dark alleys are you?"
Whack! Vaginamouth's gloved fist knocked her back out, and he produced another rope from his pocket and tied her up too. Then he produced a small note and pinned it to the ground in front of them. He walked away into the shadows, leaving two evil doers tied up and unconcious in the lonely Edmonton alley.

When the police found them in the morning it turned out that the man was a drug dealer and the woman had a meth lab hidden in her basement. They were found guilty on all charges, despite their accusiations of being captured by a masked man in a trechcoat. The first policeman on the scene, Ben Dover, pocketed a small note that he would share with his few friends he knew would agree.
"Justice is failing in this city, criminals fill the streets like toddlers fill a chucky cheese, the police are being wasted in being confined within the grounds of the law that the people they chase refuse to follow. There needs to be a new kind of justice in this city, meet here at midnight three days if you agree.
Sincerely, your friendly neighbourhood Vaginamouth"

Ben Dover was lucky that he found it rather than one of the tight ass cops that sit in doughnut shops and do everything by the book, which frankly left not that much to do other than eat doughnuts, sit under overpasses with radar guns, or steal weed and booze from teenagers at rock concerts. While dealers and gangs and pimps ran free and sneaky in the shadows. He agreed with this Vaginamouth, the city needed a new kind of justice, and Ben Dover would stand up and fight for it.