Allan Miller

Listen to Allan read his story

Iain was channel hopping when the picture on his television froze, then turned to static. He slapped the remote control against his palm, but the static began to spill out from the screen, followed by half a dozen cheese puffs from his gaping mouth. 

The static swirled and grew as his hand searched the folds of his belly for the wayward snacks. He lifted them back towards his mouth. A shape was coalescing in the centre of the whirling vortex. The crisps missed their target when a tall, muscular man dressed in red, with a flowing blue cape, stepped from the maelstrom into the room. Except from his bulging biceps and abdominals of steel, the man looked exactly like Iain. 

Iain pointed his remote at the stranger, and pressed the standby button repeatedly.

‘Do not be alarmed,’ said the man. ‘I am Captain Iain. I am you from a parallel universe.’ 

A second figure emerged from the whirlpool. A statuesque Amazon warrior woman. Iain sat up and tugged his vest in a failed attempt to cover his beer gut. The Amazon removed her helmet and shook out her long golden hair, revealing that her face was also exactly like Iain’s.

Iain winced. 

More figures stepped from the portal, until the room was crammed with muscles squeezed into a variety of brightly coloured skin-tight costumes. All the strangers had the body of a Greek god and the face of Iain.

Iain’s own face remained slack-jawed at the sudden emergence of the chiselled doppelgängers in his one-bedroom flat. Captain Iain registered his bafflement. 

‘My colleagues are also you from parallel universes. Meet Super-Iain, Spider-Iain, Aqua-Iain, Iron Iain, Bat-Iain, The Invisible Iain—’

‘Over here,’ chipped in a voice on the opposite side of the room from where Captain Iain had indicated.

Mildly perturbed, the courageous leader continued, ‘The Incredible Iain, Ant-Iain, Wolver-Iain, Iain the Barbar-Iain, Teenage Mutant Ninja Iain, and Wonder Iain.’

Soft light radiated from the glamazon. Iain adjusted his joggy bottoms.

‘Together we are -,’ Captain Iain paused, and placed his hands on his hips, for dramatic effect. ‘The Legion of Extraordinary Iains!’

Upon hearing these words, the super-Iains adopted a similarly heroic pose. 

Iain shrugged his shoulders, then asked, ‘Why-?’

‘Are we here?’ interjected Captain Iain. ‘Dr. Evil plans to destroy the fabric of space and time. So we are collecting Iains from alternate realities. The fate of existence depends on us!’

‘What do-?’

‘We want? For you to join us. By combining our amazing Iain powers we may, just may, defeat Evil once and for all!’

Iain brushed the orange crumbs from his loungewear.

‘Yes, it could mean almost certain death,’ added the Captain. ‘But that’s a risk we Iains will have to take.’

‘But I don’t have any powers.’

‘This is no time for false modesty, fellow Iain. We need your super-strength to capture the crystal-’

‘I don’t have super-strength.’

‘Then your laser vision will aid us in fighting-’

‘Sorry.’

‘Invulnerability?’

Iain shook his head.

‘Super Intelligence? Water manipulation?… Sonic Scream?’

Iain could see the Legion of Extraordinary Iains shifting uncomfortably. The veins on the Incredible Iain’s huge purple head looked as if they were about to explode. 

Captain Iain surveyed the grubby hovel around him. It wasn’t the high-tech secret headquarters he’d been expecting. ‘Master of Illusion?’

Wonder Iain placed a hand on the disappointed Captain’s shoulder. ‘The wormhole won’t hold much longer.’

‘You’re right Iainna. We can tarry no longer. The Legion must face Dr. Evil with what little Iains we have.’

‘I’m quite good at running,’ offered Iain.

‘I knew it!’ declared the Captain, glancing towards his fellow heroes in an “I told you so” kind of way. ‘Your ability to move at light-speed is exactly what we need to gain entrance to Evil’s fortress of doom undetected!’

‘I once did a half-marathon in under two hours. It was a while ago, but I reckon I could get back into shape in about six months’ time.’

‘Right. Well, we’ll bear that in mind next time the fate of existence depends on a fun run.’ 

The Legion of Extraordinary Iains began stepping back into the wormhole.

‘Wait,’ called Iain. ‘Are you saying that in every dimension, apart from this one, I’m a superhero?’

‘No,’ replied Captain Iain. ‘Not a superhero. The superhero’s superhero! Look, it’s probably best you forget about everything you’ve just seen.’ The figure in red turned and disappeared into the portal.

‘How am I supposed to carry on, knowing I’m-’

The wormhole shrank until all that remained was static, then the TV blinked back to life. Iain looked around the dingy room, at the dirty plates and empty pizza boxes. He sighed, then lifted an arm in the direction of the coffee table. A beer can rattled, and flew through the air straight into his hand. Iain took a drink, then slumped back to watch more daytime telly.

Allan Miller is a writer of short stories and humorous flash fiction. His work has been published in Gutter, Popshot Quarterly, Ellipsis Zine, Full House Literary, Firewords, Porridge, Mono, Hooded, The Martello, Neither Fish Nor Foul and Trash Cat Lit, and featured on the shortlist for the Welkin Mini 2025.