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May 22, 2007

5.22.07

Tell us about the time you saved the city.

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Jim: At The Visitor's Center

At a height of thirty feet, the bronze statue overlooks the grassy square in front of City Hall. Even on this scale, the subject, a balding man in a rumpled two-piece suit, appears to be small and nondescript. You see his kind scurrying from building to building dozens of times a day without ever noticing.

The plaque, bronze on marble, celebrates Timothy L. Warden. It states that, on April 12, 1985, Mr. Warden single-handedly saved the city from bankruptcy by catching multiple gross errors in the Treasurer’s accounting journals.

The rest of the city is even more boring than this.

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David: The Secret History

Admittedly, the fire got a little out of control.

The maidservant had the family trapped upstairs. She must have knocked some candles over because the smoke’s stench mixed with the maid’s pounding on the door, driving everyone into a panic. We managed to get out the window and across the narrow alley to the next building.

We considered calling the fire brigade, but instead merely watched our home burn, the maid flailing in the flames. By the time we roused enough to alert authorities, the fire had spread to nearby buildings.

At least we stopped the 1666 London zombie outbreak.

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From The Comments: Nick

"Look out! A giant is attacking!"

There he stood, towering over the people of the small town. His massive feet crushed cars below and knocked over buildings. Nothing could stop this menace from leveling everything he saw.

He laughed as the cars were crushed like tiny little toys, and the people scurried around like small ants running for cover.

They cried, "Is this the end of the world?! Someone save us!"

Suddenly in the distance, a call came out. "Jimmy, time to come in for supper."

And so the tiny city was saved, at least until his plate was cleared.

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Dave: The Pal

"So he's showing me his 'Fortress of Solitude,' right?  All this cool stuff -- statues, weird machines, and I'm taking pictures when suddenly he's all 'Volcano in Italy, Jimmy -- be right back.'  And -- whoosh! -- he's just a red-blue blur, almost knocking me over in the backstream.

"And I hear this noise, and there's this big bell jar on a stand tottering and about to smash to the ground. Some sort of model, I guess.  So I catch it, and set it back safe, then snap a few more shots. 

"Then he came back and flew us home.  Cool, eh, Mr. Kent?"

Clark shuddered, but forced a smile.

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