That was enough work for that night. He went home to his large suburban mansion, removed his mask and took a shower before climbing into his pyjamas. Now he was able to retreat into his secret identity of Wooss Brayne, unlikely but fortunate beneficiary of a winning lottery ticket that had been given to him by the grateful recipient of a wallet he had found and returned a few years earlier. Of all people to win that week, he was the only winner who actually never spent a cent on any form of game of chance in his life, trusting that his needs would be met by the highest authority in existence.

After a long night’s sleep, he put on only his civilian clothes, and went into the city. Walking through Hyde Park, he saw that a beautiful model he recognised named Brandi Gold was doing a photo shoot. He took out his camera and zoomed in on her, hoping to take some pictures of his own. She was wearing a two piece pink bikini, walking and posing with her long hair down, and smiling all the time for the professional photographers’ cameras. He tried to zoom in as close as possible to her beautiful facial features, but found that it made it difficult to keep the camera focussed, especially each time she moved position.

Before he knew it, he felt two huge fists take hold of his shirt and shove him back.

“This is a professional shoot only. Push off!” said a man dressed entirely in black, presumably one of their security staff.

Wooss stumbled backwards, staggering from the impact of the shove.

“It seems you’ve done the pushing for me,” he said.

“So you want to be a wise guy, do you?” said the paid thug, presumably on steroids, given his temper and the size of his muscles.

As Agilitricks, Wooss Brayne relied on martial arts, rather than size, having trained for many years and eventually begun teaching as an instructor in the academy where he had learned to fight. It suddenly occurred to him, that dressed as he was, he would be gambling a lot with his secret identity, if he was seen to fight this bully in the same clothes that he wore with his mask.

The man stepped in on him.

“I said PUSH OFF! Or I’ll deck you on the grass!” said the man.

Wooss toyed with the idea of using only judo techniques to trip the man up, and wondered if he could make it look like nothing more than a clumsy accident, rather than a deliberate combat victory.

“I saw that,” said a woman’s voice from behind the security man, “He wasn’t interrupting the shoot from where he stood, and we came out here partly for publicity. I don’t want people like you on our team. You can leave now, and wait for your final pay cheque.”

“Fine! I’m gone then!” grunted the man, who then turned and left, much to the relief of Wooss.