The other two, Glamazon and Hindsight, were lapping up all the attention, making themselves look bigger and more important like . . . like a couple of big fat aristocrats getting bigger and fatter off the proletariat’s admiration.

The only thing people should get big and fat on, Teddy believed, was the shared work of their comrades—and lots of fish.

The defacing of people’s private property was over now, and they were back on track to go nowhere. That meant Teddy could either be bored, or she could be a good bear and make the best of it.

“Hey, Slaymaker guy,” Teddy said. “Are you a capitalist under all that armor?”

The big Hero looked way down at her, then shook his head. “No? Not really. I haven’t given it that much thought.”

Teddy frowned. What would a capitalist Hero look like?

Probably someone who wanted to grow stronger on the oppression of those beneath them, instead of supporting the people. It would have to be a Hero who placed their own popularity and fame and money before the needs of the people they were supposed to be Heroing. Also, according to what Teddy knew, they’d probably be fat.

“I think if you were a capitalist Hero, you’d be all like ‘I’ll save you, miss, but only if you pay me and we can take pictures and stuff after.’” Teddy said.

Slaymaker snorted. “Uh-huh. And what would the better kind of Hero do?”

Teddy needed to think about this, too. She was a communist Villain, not a Hero. “I think,” she began slowly, “that a communist Hero would put the needs of the community first. They’d be a Hero because it’s something only they could do, but they’d know fighting Villains isn’t something that needs to be done if you can stop the Villains by, uh, addressing the things making them Villains . . . yeah. And they wouldn’t need much from the community, because they’d live just like a normal person.”

“That’s surprisingly eloquent,” Cheatah said. “I don’t think people would want to risk their lives being Heroes just because it’s the right thing to do, though. You need more than that. Fame and money fill that gap.”

Teddy pouted. “That’s stupid.”

“I don’t know, kid,” Hindsight said. “I think I’m on the other side here. I’m a corporate Hero. Does that make me evil?” he asked.

“Obviously,” Teddy said. “Not good evil, just lame evil.”

Hindsight shook his bandage-wrapped head. “What? Being a Hero isn’t evil, kid.”

“No, of course not,” Teddy said. Villains like her were evil. Heroes, like she said, were just stupid. “But if you’re a Hero just to make a bunch of money and feel more important than other people, then you’re the worst kind of Hero.”