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Stumbled upon an image of a Supergirl Roomba, so this just had to be done.
I was sitting with my feet up, enjoying a relaxing cup of tea, when Supergirl smashed through my living room wall in a shower of masonry and a victorious cry of “your swapping days are over, Swapper!”
I spluttered and choked on my tea. Supergirl?! I wasn’t anywhere near Supergirl’s power tier. As villains went, I was distinctly small time, someone on the level of Matter-Eater-Lad or Arms-Fall-Off-Man. My crimes included such things as ‘stealing 40 cakes’ and ‘swapping the mayor’s face with his pet chihuahua before an important speech’. I knew my power niche, and went to great lengths to keep it that way for fear of drawing down the big hitters.
“Since when did I end up on the Justice’s League’s radar?” I complain.
“No crime is beneath the reach of the law,” she proclaims. “Plus Bouncing Boy is on vacation so…” She floats down to the rubble-strewn ground. My roomba trundles around her feet, futilely attempting to clear away from debris, its little wheels sticking on chunks of rock.
“But I haven’t committed a crime yet!” I whine.
“Oh really? Well what about swapping bodies with this man and stealing his house?”
“This is my house,” I cry indignantly. “And this is my real face. I haven’t swapped anything with anything in weeks!”
“Well you’re probably guilty of something.” She seizes my arm. “Come on, I don’t have all day.” She tries to drag me to the door. She is rather taken off guard as I remain as resolutely planted as a steel post. Her eyes widen as I take her wrist and twist it around her back. It is incredibly easy. In fact I have to be very, very careful not to break any of her human bones.
“Bouncing Boy didn’t brief you very well on me, did he?” I say.
She swings out at me with her free arm, a full-force punch. Her fist breaks against my impervious face with a crunch. “Argh! H-how? He told me you c-couldn't swap powers.”
“I can’t. I wouldn’t stay 'The Swapper' long if I could just swap out my swapping abilities, now, would I?” I twist her arm a little higher. “But swapping your kryptonian anatomy with mine… that I can do and still keep my powers.”
Her mouth falls open. She attempts to fly away but manages only a pathetic hop. “Y-you mean I’m… human?”
“Afraid so.” I can sense her tremendous power flowing through me. The power of a god. I just wanted to watch my shows. “This is so inconvenient. Now the whole Justice League is gonna be coming after me.”
“Then swap us back,” she whines.
“Too late for that,” I sigh. “But, on the other hand, if they never find out...”
Still holding her arm, I reach down and tap the roomba on its metal top. She senses it immediately, her eyes widening in horror. I release her arm. She manages to stagger a few steps before her legs vanish beneath her. Her arms soon follow. Her entire body is dwindling away, her skin turning the dull metal grey of a well-used appliance. “You can’t do this.”
“I’m afraid it’s already done. In a few moments you’ll be just my roomba. And that…” I glance over at my loyal roomba, currently sprouting a set of lithe, feminine limbs from its metal chassis. “Well maybe it’ll still be able to suck for its owner,” I chuckle.
“But you’re… small time…” she gasps. By now she is little more than a metal disc a foot in diameter, her fading face staring upwards.
“Who are you calling small?”
Her face melds into the steel and vanishes. I stare down at the small, powerless appliance.
“I should really just throw you out,” I mutter. I glance around my ruined room, and at Supergirl’s incriminating bootprints in the layer of masonry dust lying over everything. “But I need to clean this place before somebody from the Justice League follows up on your disappearance. Be a good little roomba and suck it up for me, would you?”
The device refuses to move. With an annoyed kick to its chassis, I crouch down and flick its switch over to Automatic mode, and resumes its duties, sucking up the evidence it was ever here.