For as long as she could remember, Liz had admired heroes. From the first time she saw a good guy defeat an evildoer in her morning cartoons, the girl had been starstruck. Her bedroom was plastered with merchandise featuring heroes of all shapes and sizes, but it only took one glance to tell that she had a clear favorite.
More than any other hero, Liz idolized the King of the Jungle. Raised by apes in the African wilds, the King of the Jungle fought valiantly every Saturday morning to protect both the wild from people who would exploit it, and people from the wild's dangers. He was a tall, muscular figure who wore nothing but a loincloth to preserve his modesty.
Liz wanted nothing less than to be just like him. She'd even made herself her own loincloth to match his. (Unfortunately, she didn't quite understand the loincloth was supposed to wrap around her crotch like underwear, and not just dangle precariously in front of her privates). She'd never had a chance to use it... but that was about to change.
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