If your janitor looks like this, you're okay. He's not evil.

So I saved the world again, because I’m – well my name says it all – Fantabulous Gal. Well okay, maybe not the world, but certainly the George Brown College student body.

I uncovered a massive conspiracy this week that put all the lives of the pupils at stake, at least the young and fashionably-attired ones like yours truly.

I had headed over to my class a little early, partially because I was supposed to meet up with one my classmates, Charlotte, to photocopy her notes because I spilled wine on mine, but mostly I need my “not-with-Captain-Euchre” time. Who knew that a semi-catatonic, incontinent, infantile man child would be so needy? Kim did try to warn me.

Charlotte was a no-show. She didn’t even make it for the course. I thought it was odd because, although I had only spoken to her during our one class and a couple of emails afterwards and then set her a custom mug from Zazzle, she seemed like a rather studious, well-organized girl with a great fashion sense like myself – pastel colours, fiery red hair like Bryce Dallas Howard in 50/50. I mean sure she might not be the most redeemable character in the film but her hair was gorgeous and powerful. Certainly not like that bland yellowy-blond style that Evan Rachel Wood sports in The Ides of March. A weak hairstyle for a weak character. I mean, seriously… Spoiler Alert … killing yourself because your sexual relationship with a presidential candidate might come to light. Please… Monica Lewinsky got a handbag line, lost weight through Jenny Craig and became friends with Tom Green. Well, maybe that last one is reason to commit suicide. At least George was his usual dreamy self – and in the end he won! Feel good movie of the year. Except for the suicide stuff.

But Bryce Dallas Howard had to deal with a bald, weak, possibly dying Joseph Gordon-Levitt. It’s hard for anyone to stick that out and keep hair that shiny. I mean, I admit, he did make a kind of a cute baldie. Kind of reminded me of a frailer Mr. Clean, who I’ve always… Spoiler Alert … had a bit of a crush on. I keep his spray bottle on my nightstand. Certainly, a lot more attractive than, say, Cynthia Nixon (Miranda from Sex and the City). She’s shaved her head for some Broadway show where she plays a terminal cancer patient and she kind of looks like an alien.

As soon as class started, I wondered if Charlotte was the smart one for skipping. We were subjected to a meandering lecture on how to pick the right grapes. Apparently, larger is better. When the break came, I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

When I got into the hall, I heard muffled screams coming from one of the women’s washrooms – the same one I was so unceremoniously ejected from last week. The door had been replaced, though. I burst in to find three of those purple-robed janitors dunking a tied-up young woman headfirst into the toilet stall they had been praying at last week. The fourth janitor, the burly one, was guarding another tied-up young woman with vibrant red locks… It was Charlotte.

But before I could ask her if she brought her notes from last week, and did she get my emails, and how did she like the mug, and did she see 50/50, and wasn’t George dreamy, there was a blinding flash of light and a monstrous gulping sound and the woman the other three were holding was gone. I really should have done more detective work after I ran into them the first time, but super heroing is really more of a fists first, don’t take your work home with you kinda job, am I right?

Thankfully, the burly one explained. Not exactly sure why. Maybe he feared me, because this time I was carrying my Fantabu-Taser, or maybe just liked the sound of his own voice. Apparently, things had got out-of-control at the school a few years back and it had become impossible to keep clean. So after consulting occult books and websites, they found out how to summon the God of Cleaning through the second toilet stall of this fifth-floor washroom. His name is somewhat unpronounceable so they call him Herman. All the janitors had to do was sacrifice three young women to Herman every Thursday during the school year and He would ensure the school stays spotless. A Fantabulous plan! And one that, as a cleaning professional myself, could really appreciate.

I admired their ingenuity but I couldn’t really abide by their wanton disregard for human life. Especially since, as Burly was talking, Charlotte escaped and so suddenly I turned into the third sacrifice! I mean, they do have good taste in sacrificial subjects but holy Herman, I don’t wanna be flushed! Burly moved towards me and I Fantabu-Tasered him. He fell like a ton of something heavy.

Then the other three charge at me. Or rather past me. Out the door.

I thought it was over but then Burly got up and attacked. He Captain-Kirk-kicked the Fantabu-Taser out of my hands and then we had an old-fashioned Batgirl-style fight on our hands. BIFF, KAPOW, and so on. Well except he was doing most of the BIFFs and KAPOWs. Fighting in heels? Not as easy as it looks in Charlie’s Angels!

He grabbed me and carried towards the toilet stall. I could see from the bowl, Herman was drooling with anticipation. Not Captain Euchre drool, but pretty gross all the same. I was just about to be devoured when a high heel flew across the bathroom – WHIWHIWHIWHIWHIP – and hit Burly – POW! – right in the head. Charlotte was standing in the doorway – minus one shoe. Burly stumbled back confused and loosened his grip. I managed to break free and kick him into Herman.

There was a blinding flash of light and a monstrous gulping sound and Burly was gone.

I went over to thank Charlotte, and ask her for some show fighting tips, but then another noise emanated from Herman. Burly obviously disagreed with him.

Noy, did he ever! Herman exploded over the entire building. And all over me! I showered for six and a half hours.

I think I’m going to drop that course. Just… don’t tell Captain Euchre.