Vaginamouth & Friends

In order to accelerate this story past the boring part I, as the narrator, will speed up this whole boring charcter development three days later part.
Ben Dover took the note back to the Tim Hortons and showed it to his most trusted friends who he knew would stand for true justice. Bring in the dealers and not the users. The bosses and not the lackeys. The pimps and not the hoes. Screw the legal bullshit and sock it to the rich big guys with good lawyers instead of their sacraficial pawns. All that stuff. His two like-minded friends Mike Hunt, and Jacklynn Hoff. Mike nodded in agreement and Jack (as she preferred to be called, Jack Hoff) suggested they wear disguises and have their gear incase it is some sort of trap. Mike Hunt belched loudly, then agreed. Ben followed suit after telling Mike Hunt to behave.
Unfortunately for them, a bearded, overweight man in his late twenties, clad in a Tim Horton's uniform and mopping the floor overheard them (I'll start to slow down now).
"Lord be praised! Can I come to? I've always wanted to see a top secret meeting in an unknown place! Can I please watch you guys smite some evildoers old testament style?" His loud, whiny voice drawing stares from cops and civilians alike.
Jack Hoff glared at the janitor and muttered something about abstaining from police brutality under her breath and Ben laughed and said equally loudly:
"Don't worry, we'll bring a camera and make sure you get to watch us bust those drug dealer's secret meeting on Cops next episode," then he whispered under his breath. "It's a secret meeting. Therefore implying its secrecy. Don't talk loudly enough that everyone else hears and we'll let you in on it."
"Okay," the cleaner whispered. "My name is Chris Peacock. Give me the time and date so I can RVSP and put it on my calendar."
Ben smiled, a cunning plan to deter the unwanted eavesdropper. "Meet us in three days at the Boston Pizza, noon."
"Actually Boston Pizza gives me gas, could we meet at a Pizza Hut or maybe an Arby's?" Chris asked.
"Sorry," Ben replied. "It was arranged by someone else, its their only free day for a few months."
"Okay then, thank you! This is just so righteous!" Chris exclaimed. "See you then pals!"
Ben Dover sat back down and smiled mischievously.
"I told him that we were meeting at the Boston Pizza noon in three days," Ben whispered.
"Good job Ben," Mike laughed "That guy's such a simpleton. Nearly as much of a shit headed dumb ass as Jacklynn." He took a sip out of his Tim's Latte and Jack slapped him across the face.
"How dare you call me Jacklynn!" She shouted. "You know I hate that name!"
Ben Dover began laughing. Mile and Jack glared at him and his laughter slowly became more nervous and quite until he fell silent.
"C-can't you guys see the obvious humor in this?" He stuttered. "Jack got extremely angry at Mike using her full name and ignored the clearly more offensive fact that Mike was drinking a Tim's Latte! I mean seriously if you wan't that go to Starbucks. The humor is obvious because the narrator has yet to stop my rant! I could talk for quite some time before he stops laughing at the comical situation the author has-"

Three Days Later...

In the dark city back alleys of Edmonton three figures wearing big baggy hoodies with their police gear hidden beneath. They awaited the strike of midnight patiently. Mike stared at his watch absently. Five minutes to midnight. Ben began to whistle a tune that sounded like Jeopardy and Mike started to hum along. Jacklynn glared at them at first, then began to tap her feet to the beat.
"How horrible," a terrifying raspy voice growled from a shadowy, moonlit palley. "I ask for crime fighters and get an A Capella group."
A huge figure could be discerned in the shadows. A chubby, thick man with flowing shoulder-length hair waving in the breeze. He stepped from the shadows.
"I thought you guys said BP's at noon!" Chris whined in his loud, child-like voice. His beard was combed and gelled. "Its a good thing I was searching the entire city at every time of the day."
The three cops groaned in unison. Jack glared at Ben. "Why did you even give him the same day?" She whispered angrily.
"Wait a minute," Mike asked. "If that's Chris then who was talking before?"
Everyone looked around nervously, studying every shadow. Jack had her hands on the pepper-spray in her bra, which just looked like an awkward invitation rather than a threat.
Then, from the shadows of a dumpster behind Mike, a tall figure stepped from the shadows with a huge curved knife at his belt. His trench-coat seemed to blend with the shadows around it. He tipped his fedora at them and revealed his terrifying leather mask.
"So you want to help me fight crime?"
"Yes! Me! I want to!" Chris Peacock chirped excitedly.
"Are you a serial killer?" Jack asked, hand moving from the pepper-spray at her breast to the tazer in the front of her waistband.
"No. Are you trying to arouse me? Because its not working," he replied snidely in his gravelly voice. Jack took her hands out of her pants and cursed under her breath. "So who is everyone here?"
"Ben Dover, this is Mike Hunt, " Ben answered.
"Jack Hoff. Chris Peacock," Jack grunted, still angry and fiddling with her auburn hair.
"Good," The mysterious masked man replied. " I can see that you are all law enforcers who are fed up with legal loopholes and fork-tongued lawyers. All tough as nails and..."
He trailed off staring at Chris, who had pulled a box of fudge from his track coat and began eating it ravenously.
"Well most of you tough as nails and twice as sharp. Anyways, I have a dream-"
"Martin Luther King Jr. said that to," Chris interrupted, his mouth full of chocolatey goodness.
"Thanks for that Chris Peacock, as I was saying-"
Chris swallowed. "But I think Hitler said that to, or Stalin. Some murderous dictator with an epic mustache."
"Are you finished?" Vaginamouth asked, rage filling the eyes that peered through the mask.
"Sorry," Chris said jamming another piece of fudge into his mouth. He held the half empty box out towards Vaginamouth. "I didn't think you'd want any."
"No I don't want your fudge, I want you to let me finish talking," he growled at Chris.
"Oh, sorry."
"Okay now where was I-"
"Anyone else want some chocolate-peanut fudge, it would be impolite only to offer it to one person."
"Sure I'll have some," Ben replied.
"Yeah, me too," Mike agreed.
"Why not?" Jack shrugged her shoulders and they all accepted pieces of fudge from Chris as the vigilante hyperventilated, gloved hands in a death grip on his knife.
"Fudge break over?" He asked venomously.
"Yup, all done," Chris answered. "You were saying?"
"I have a dream, and that dream is to take out the heads of the criminal underworld here in Edmonton. To crush them with the fist of vigilante justice. But I cannot do this alone. Will you help me?"
Everyone nodded in agreement. Chris burped.
"Mmm that tasted like choco- oops, excuse me."
"Good, now that your all helping me. You'll have to make costumes so no one will recognize you fighting crime with me by night. A good name and catchphrase would be helpful to."
"Wait this is crazy! We can't just whip up an insane superhero alter-ego that fast!" Mike exclaimed, because that was apparently the craziest part of the proposal.
"I'll give you all a week to come up with a vigilante costume and persona. We meet in this alley again at midnight in a weeks time. Any man wearing spandex and jock strap will be mercilessly slaughtered," with that Vaginamouth tipped his hat and ran off into the shadows.
Chris tossed the empty fudge box into the dumpster.
"Well I've gotta go! It's way past my bedtime. See you guys later."
Chris left and everyone else filed away in their own directions shortly afterwards, alone in their own thoughts.