Tiny little Billy Batson is Whiz Network's roving reporter.
With one word, Shazam! The tiny little boy becomes The World's Mightiest Mortal, Captain Marvel.
Along the way, Billy Batson meets fellow reporter Clark Kent while chasing a story.
Superm...
The bitter cold wind stung his cheeks and seeped into the holes of his threadbare clothes.
He didn't mind. He was happy. Shovelling snow kept him warm and earned him enough money for food for a week, with enough to buy the blanket he had been eyeing in the thrift shop. He'd need that to make it through winter.
The itty bitty little boy practically glowed as he cleared the sidewalk for his final customer for the day.
"Good job, Billy." Mrs Stone, a matronly white haired woman with kindly eyes ruffled the tiny boy's hair and paid him for his hard work. "I made too many sausage rolls. Take some so they won't go to waste," she smiled as she handed him a brown bag as well.
The bag was still hot. He could smell the mouthwatering rolls inside.
"Best day ever," grinned Billy. At least it was the best day he's had since he was forced to be on his own. For the first time in a very long time, he'd go to sleep with warm, yummy food in his stomach, snuggled under the blanket he was going to buy.
As he turned the corner, his heart sank to his feet. Carlo.
The huge, muscular teen grabbed Billy by the collar and lifted him so that his feet dangled off the ground. "You have something that belongs to me."
The gangsta snatched Billy's hard earned money from him and pocketed it.
"I'll have these as well," the teen confiscated Billy's bag of rolls and held it an arm's length from him.
Billy could have transformed there and then but the lightning at such close range would kill the teen. Billy's no killer.
Squirming, Billy tried unsuccessfully to break free. Carlo's grip was too strong. "Please Carlo. I need the money to buy food to eat and a blanket to keep warm for winter."
A taller, lean wiry teen stepped out from the shadow. He dragged his cigarette as he leaned against the fence. "Sorry kid, we need these for more sticks."
Jax. No one messed with Carlo and Jax and came out unscathed.
Stalking up to the kid with a menacing smile, he blew smoke at the child's face. "So what you're gonna do about it."
"Actually, my daddy said cigarettes are bad for health. You don't need them," Billy replied.
"Wrong answer." Jax punched Billy's gut. The sharp pain had him bend over, only to be pulled upright by Carlo
"Think you're too good for us kiddo?" Another fist slammed into his ribs, accompanied by a sickening crunch and wrenching pain.
His lungs filled with warm liquid. Coughing, Billy spat blood. "Now look what you did," snarled Carl as he stared at his own bloodied shirt. He slammed Billy's head against the wall and walked off, leaving him for dead.
Play dead. Let them think... His head was woozy. He was..what do you call it? Concussed? Must not sleep. He could barely breathe for the suffocating pain. Was this what dying felt like?
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