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April 2, 2009

Thursday

The day is saved!

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LJ: Run

Her hose snag on the car door, and she gasps. "Oh, no," she says, "a run in my hose!"

A whooshing sound in the air. The citizens point. "Look! Up in the sky! It's a kite! It's a wind sock! No, it's... PANTYHOSE MAN!!"

His face distorted by the clever and idiom-appropriate identity protection, he lands lightly on his feet. "Not to worry!" he exclaims. "I am here to save the day!" He brandishes a pair of hose. "Let me help you off with those hose and put these on you."

She stares at him a moment. "Umm... pass. Thanks."

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Jim: The Warranty Expired

The man paced the repair shop’s waiting room, nervously stroking his copper hair. He grimaced at the sludge in the Styrofoam cup but sipped anyway. At least it was hot. He stopped to stare momentarily through the single dark window then resumed his pacing.

The mechanic finally entered, the name Hef stitched above the breast pocket of his shabby coveralls. “It overheated again,” he rasped. “All fixed now.”

“About time,” the man replied. He swiped his debit card and collected his keys. Soon the vehicle lifted into the sky, casting the rosy gold of morning on the waking world below.

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Dave: Saving the Day

He basked in adulation, the cheers of the crowd washing over him. Doctor Krell’s Nihilbot lay in twisted fragments. Krell himself dangled limply from Graeme’s right hand, twitching in the afterglow of a final empathic blast.

Psiclone! Psiclone! Psiclone! Psiclone!

The masses chanted, the late-arriving heroes applauded, the photographers flashed, the church bells rang, rang, rang –

He rolled over, slamming off the alarm. No parades today. Permit meeting with the mayor. Hostile interview on “PM New Philly” this afternoon, And he really needed to work out soon before he stopped fitting in his bulletproof slacks.

A super-hero’s life. So glamorous.

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