'And how do you feel about these ... Powers of yours?' Sadie, my therapist, looks at me with an expression I find rather disconcerting. I can never tell exactly what she is thinking. Perhaps she goes home to think 'what a loon'. I don't know. I like to think she is secretly jealous. After all, wouldn't everyone like to have my power?

'Well, to begin with,' I say. 'I really wasn't sure about this superhero thing. I mean how could I be a superhero? But now I like it.'

'Tell me about your power,' she says, making notes.

'I have the power to freeze food,' I say. 'And defrost food.'

She has a bemused expression on her face. 'But isn't that just what you do with a fridge and the defrost setting on a microwave?'

'No,' I say. 'You don't understand. I don't need a fridge and a microwave. I do it with the power of my mind.'

'Riiight,' she says. 'And how do you use your power? How do you feel when you do it?'

I take a deep breath. How can I tell her of my breathless excitement when I will a packet of half defrosted peas to freeze again? Or rid a frozen chicken of any ice at all, simply because I, Chris Johnson, command it? I dare not tell her of the emotions I feel when I become FRIDGEMAN. I would be locked up.

'Oh, nothing special, really,' I lie.

'What do you use your powers for?'

'Oh, you know,' I say. 'To fight evil.'

She glances at the clock on the wall. 'I think our session is up,' she says. Her expression is still unreadable. I pay her and hurry out the door. As I walk back home I pass by Tesco. I buy a loaf of bread, vegetables, and a pizza. I put them in a carrier bag and walk through the alley towards the crime-infested underbelly of my town. It is nearly 7, time for all the no good lowlifes to come out.

A sudden noise in the alley startles me. As I look straight ahead I see a man up against the wall.

'Give us your money,' a harsh voice is saying. 'Or I'll shank you.'

I stay close to the wall. The bread I brought from Tesco is wonderfully fresh. But Fridgeman has got to do what he's got to do! I will the bread to freeze. It turns to ice in my hands. Before the low life muggers turn round I toss the loaf in their direction, then the pack of vegetables.

One of the gang members staggers back, unconscious from the blow to his head. I hear them swearing and shouting.

My good deed for the night, although my work is never done. I dart off towards my house, making sure their hapless victim escapes safely. I let myself in, realising that my plans for a healthy five a day meal have been scuppered by the criminals in this dirty town. I feel a slight resentment as I put the pizza in the oven and cook some leftover sausages. I sit down to watch the television while I am waiting for my food to be done.

'Tonight, police have praised a mysterious vigilante who throws frozen food at suspected criminals in Paxfield,' the reporter says. As he speaks I feel a thrill of excitement. By day I am ordinary old Chris Johnson, but by night, I am Fridgeman, the crime-fighting superhero.

I take my pizza out of the oven and settle down to watch. 'We're really grateful to whoever this person is, he's really reducing the crime in the town,' the police inspector says. 'In the last few days this vigilante has stopped two muggings, two burglaries and a flasher.'

I swell with pride and put the pizza slice into my mouth. Delicious. I lie back on my sofa and wait for my cat to jump on my lap.

As I do so there's a knock at the door. I rise from the sofa and walk over to answer it.

'Hello,' says a serious-looking man in a brown coat. 'We are from the environmental health agency. You are the person who has been throwing all the food around in the town. It's a health and safety hazard you know. You will be fined hundreds of pounds.'

'What?' I stare. 'How do you possibly know that?'

'We had a tip off,' he says grimly. 'From your therapist. As you know they have a duty to alert the authorities if you are a danger to yourself and others, which we believe you are.'

'I'm not a danger,' I yell. 'I'm fighting crime!'

'It doesn't matter,' he says. 'You don't make the rules.'