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The bag thief made away at speed after tearing the handbag from the woman’s arm.
‘Stop, thief! Wait a second…what’s that? Is it a bird? Is it a plane?’
‘It’s a plane…it’s definitely not Superman.’
‘Why not?’
‘He’s sat over there, drinking cheap cider.’
And indeed he was. Superman, oblivious to the thief who had run straight past him, took another swig and wiped his mouth with a dirty hand.
‘Superman, are you just going to sit there? The thief’s getting away!’
‘P*** off, I’m busy’ came his curt reply. ‘This cider won’t drink itself…’

Smiling benignly, he wet himself.

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