Marsh Man, known for his super-strength and deep connection to the Lowcountry, squinted across the golden marsh grass. Beside him, Pizza Boy, whose suit somehow always smelled faintly of pepperoni, zipped a single loop in the air just to stretch his legs—which was easy since he was flying. They were perched on a high bluff overlooking the winding May River in Bluffton, South Carolina, a perfect spot to watch over their sleepy, oyster-loving town.
The serenity of the late afternoon was abruptly shattered by the whine of an engine pushed too hard.
“That ain’t the sound of someone looking for a parking spot, Marsh Man,” Pizza Boy observed, adjusting his visor.
A glossy black SUV, tore around the bend of Highway 46. No lights were flashing, and the siren was silent. The vehicle veered sharply, forcing a family driving a slow-moving, street-legal golf cart—a common sight in Bluffton—to swerve violently into a dusty ditch. The SUV didn’t even slow down.
“That’s Chief Brody,” Marsh Man rumbled, his voice low but carrying the heavy resonance of deep earth. “And his ‘no rules’ driving style is going to cause a real low tide.”
Before the Chief could vanish into the Spanish moss and shadows, Pizza Boy shot forward. He didn’t use his super-speed to stop the car, but rather, he used his incredible momentum to generate a powerful, winded burst of air right in front of the vehicle. The sudden, hot gust—carrying an undeniable note of spicy Italian sausage—forced Chief Brody to slam on the brakes, sending the SUV slightly-fishtailing to a stop just shy of a massive live oak tree.
Marsh Man arrived moments later, his boots sinking slightly into the soft earth, absorbing the impact of his leap from the bluff. He moved to the Chief’s side, placing one massive hand gently on the hood of the vehicle.
Chief Brody, a stout man with a permanently harried look, rolled down his window, annoyance visible on his face. “Marsh Man, Pizza Boy! What’s the meaning of this? I’m on official business! We operate on a ‘No Rules’ motto here, remember? It keeps the bureaucracy down.”
Pizza Boy hovered by the window, the scent of pepperoni intensifying. “Chief, we saw you almost turn that family in the golf cart into a low-carb snack! That wasn’t ‘no rules,’ that was just reckless! Your car has flashing lights and a title on the side of it, Chief!”
Marsh Man’s gaze was steady and unwavering, fixing the Chief with a look that spoke of the ancient patience of the river and the marsh itself.
“Chief Brody,” Marsh Man said, his tone firm yet gentle. “It will be alright, and no one was hurt this time. But we see you lead this town. And leadership means setting the example, not being the exception. You are the role model. When you put that motto—‘No Rules’—into practice with that much speed and that much disregard for safety, you are inviting everyone else to do the same.”
He leaned in slightly. “A badge is not a free pass. It is a responsibility. Safety first, Chief. Always. Leaders everywhere must remember that the poor decisions they make under pressure don’t just affect them; they set the standard for everyone who looks up to them. You need to correct your own driving before you can correct anyone else’s.”
Chief Brody deflated, running a hand over his face. He looked out at the peaceful marsh, then back at the looming, solid figure of Marsh Man, and the floating, slightly aromatic Pizza Boy.
“You’re right,” the Chief sighed, putting the car in park. “The golf cart family. I need to check on them. And I need to rethink the motto. Role model. Safety first. Got it.”
Marsh Man gave a nod that was both approving and final, stepping back to let the Chief walk toward the family in the ditch. Pizza Boy zipped up to Marsh Man’s side.
“Looks like the Chief just got served a slice of reality,” Pizza Boy quipped, sniffing his own glove.
Marsh Man smiled faintly, looking back out over the winding water. “A little correction is just the Lowcountry way, Pizza Boy. It ensures everything runs smooth, like the tide.”
The currents of the May River never truly rest, and neither do its protectors. Just beyond the golden marsh grass, the watery depths are forever stirring up new, mysterious challenges. Will Marsh Man need to grapple with a legendary pluff mud monster? Will Pizza Boy have to utilize his supreme flight skills to slow down a rogue shrimp boat threatening to crash into the town docks? Or perhaps the greatest, most delicious threat of all awaits them: a devastating pizza topping crisis that requires immediate, cheesy intervention. Whatever the danger, Blufftonians know they can rely on their unbelievable, local legends. To catch their next high-flying, mud-slinging adventure, be sure to tune in next time for the ongoing, epic saga of Marsh Man and Pizza Boy, heroes of Bluffton!
*parts of this are based on a true story
