The Green Ring

"Alright, everyone shut up for a second, Jesse's gonna do his party trick," my friend yells from atop the bar. For some reason, everyone stares at me and I get a little nervous. Isn't there like some superpower rule where you aren't supposed to tell the audience how you did the trick?

Shit, no, that's the magician's code. I'm supposed to have some costume and superhero name, something better than the hoodie I have on now and Jesse. But Zach made it plain that I've got a trick to do, so I'd better do it.

"It's not that special," I mutter.

"Speak up!" someone shouts, and I pick him out from the waiting faces; the bright red Hitler-stache made it pretty obvious who spoke.

Just to see his awe, I make blatant eye contact as I pick up my beer bottle, down the last two gulps, and make a big show of spinning it around like a magician. Shit, I'm a superhero; I keep forgetting.

"Jesse, you're losing them." I elbow Zach and give the crowd a smile.

"My friend made the mistake of calling my superpower a 'party trick'. If you all wouldn't mind, observe this." I hold up the bottle and stick my finger in the neck. It fits perfectly, the molecules of my finger contracting to fit inside.

The man laughs, his face burning bright red. "I can do the same thing, idiot." He proceeds to shove his finger into his own bottle, and everyone roars with laughter.

"That's a different brand, the neck is a bit bigger," I protest, face face growing red.

The man waves his hand in the air, waving the bottle with it. "And my fingers are a 'bit bigger', asshole. Unless you can fit your whole hand in there, you're just another boring idiot."

"It doesn't work like that." I take my finger out of the bottle, glaring at Zach. He knows my powers extend only to my index finger. I can only shrink it by a couple millimeters anyways.

"Come on, Jesse. Let's just leave them."

"You have to believe me!" I grab a hot sauce bottle, spin off the cap and squeeze my finger in it. "See! Bet Ham-hands can't do this!"

That gets their interest; everyone turns away from the grinning man and crowds around me. "Does it hurt?"

"It's a superpower so of course not." Content with the asshat's humiliation, I start to tug my finger out and leave. It doesn't budge. I yank again, wincing.

"Ha, stuck, are you? Thought you had a superpower," the man says, striding over with his hands on his hips. "Guess even ol' beer bottle finger here has his limits. Maybe hot sauce is his kryptonite."

Everyone crowds back around him, leaving me to struggle with the bottle. Finally, I give up, leave a five on the counter to buy the bar a new bottle and head outside. With a sigh, I set my hand down on the curb and beckon for Zach.

"You sure?" He pulls out the designated bottle breaking rock from his coat and holds it above the bottle.

"Yeah. Maybe next time you won't have to do this." I look away. "I told you not to tell others about my power."

Zach exhales and smashes the bottle. "Or you could measure the bottle before showing off. It's not my fault your one finger only shrinks down three ring sizes."

"3.7 millimeters. I've told you that before."

"Whatever, Green Ring," Zach scoffs, pointing to the glass still stuck on my finger. I guess I got my name and costume after all, at least, until I got out the coconut oil and smacked Zach upside the head with that stupid rock.

I flip him the bird and walk home alone. It's too bad my power isn't something useful like a middle finger that grows big enough to be seen from the tallest skyscraper. I'd love to flip off this entire city.