If I were The Swan

If I were The Swan, I would use my new superpowers to eliminate evil from the world. I would drive around in my new Jaguar sportscar and my hundred thousand American dollars minus taxes and instruct ugly people on the miracle of inner and outer transformation. I'd give them a small amount of money for toothpaste and suntan lotion. Criminals would catch sight of my flashing smile and confess tearfully to their crimes, moved beyond words by the radiance of my true self. I would consume lemon meringue pies, cream puffs, eclairs and pralines, but human beings would be my true repast. In the park I would erect a fringed purple tent, scented with the perfumes of the Orient, and lead men and women inside to satisfy my newfound voracious sexuality. Some would emerge dazed and drained. Others would be wrapped in plastic and carted off to the harbour under cover of darkness. If I were The Swan, I would resurrect the lost art of haberdashery, only to grind it under my heel when the adoration of haberdashers grew tiresome. If I were The Swan, I would also have to be a woman, which seems to take up more hours of the day than being a man. Nonetheless, I would be The Swan.