[thebigjewel] Letters To Superman - July 10, 2002

  • From: "The Big Jewel" <list@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: thebigjewel@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Tue, 9 Jul 2002 19:24:30 -0600 (MDT)

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Letters To Superman.


Letters To Superman
By Neil Pasricha

Dear Superman, 

At last week's Municipal Leaders Convention I was seated at a table with 
Commissioner Gordon of Gotham City. By ten o'clock he was fairly drunk and 
was rubbing that Bat Signal creation of his in everyone's face, going on 
and on about the citizens of Gotham this, how safe they feel that. He 
seemed to think it was a pretty big deal, being able to get Batman's 
attention any time he wants, just by shining his giant symbol into the 

Superman, I know you're usually on top of everything in the city, but 
would you mind if we created our own "Superb-Signal" for Metropolis? It 
could make our residents feel safer. More importantly, I think it could 
help me edge out McLaren in next month's big race. I just know he's going 
to play the affordable housing card to the low-income voters. I need 
something like a giant glowing sky-signal to win them back. 

I was even thinking about a few designs for it. It could be these big 
green letters that spell out "Come Over Here Superman," or maybe just a 
giant red eyeball that could sort of watch over the city until you 
arrived? Of course, the eyeball would have to be friendly looking to 
citizens, yet cast fear into the hearts of villains, which admittedly is a 
little difficult. We could always go with a big blimp that kind of flies 
through the sky with crazy lightning bolts flashing out of it. Maybe we 
could even play the opening riff of Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir" over and over 
while the signal is displayed? I'd love to see the look on Gordon's face 
when we unveil a symbol that has its own soundtrack. 

My point is that the possibilities are endless. Let's meet in my office 
later this week to discuss. 


Don Pollack 
Mayor, Metropolis 


My Dearest Superman, 

How fitting it is that this letter is the last thing you'll ever read as 
hero of this city. It was 20 years ago today that I sent you a simple 
request for your assistance on a new turbo-charged gamma-ray accelerator I 
was building at the time. You told me you were busy, that you were saving 
lives, and that you didn't have time to help me with my invention so long 
as the aforementioned lives were in need of saving. You turned me down, 
Superman, oh yes, and I never forgave you. But now, after many years, 
sweet vengeance has finally come. I would laugh at this point, as the 
thought so amuses me. Alas, the written word conveys this poorly, so I'll 
soldier on. 

As you read this letter with your super-vision through the envelope, 
fourteen Kryptonite-tipped rocket missiles are headed towards your 
precious Fortress of Solitude. Also, an army of bloodhounds (trained in my 
secret underground kennel) are trolling Metropolis' libraries and 
archives, eating all evidence of your existence in the papers. Soon 
Superman, oh so very soon, all that's left of your recorded identity will 
be turned to ash -- or a foaming, bite-sized ball of dog saliva and paper 
pulp. I assure you, were we meeting in person, I would be laughing 
immensely hard and hearty as I say this, so amused am I at your 
predicament. Again, though, the written word. Moving on. 

With my stranglehold on the media, and your peaceful refuge in ruins, your 
reputation and notoriety is doomed to fade away. I do hope, however, that 
these latest actions don't hurt the on-the-side social relationship we've 
developed over the last few years. What of your dog, Mr. Paws, by the way? 
What an adorable rascal. Were you able to sort out that confusion with the 
vet about his shots? I hope he has stopped gnawing on his crotch and can 
have that visor of his removed soon. 

As you might have guessed, everything else in the Luther household is busy 
busy busy as always! Young Casey Luther is leading the Metropolis "A" 
hockey team in assists this year, no doubt due to the boy's growing skill 
at methodically eliminating his competition with elaborate schemes. A 
great many small jerseyed bodies will not be found for years to come, I 
assure you. Nevertheless, my boy shall receive that assists award, even if 
I have to step in and scramble a few brains myself with my new Type C 
Neuron Defibrillator. At any rate, it looks like Casey is starting to take 
after his old man after all. I have resolved to kill him last, as you no 
doubt surmised. 

Not much else is new here. I'm still trying to shape the backyard hedge 
into a duck. Sheila's recruitment drive for the Metropolis Volunteer 
Network is going well. She already has more than 40 people interested in 
helping out with her summer theater production of "Oh! Calcutta!" Remember 
to let Sheila or I know if you're interested in helping out. We won't have 
need of your heat-vision, however. Suffice it to say, the production is 
sizzling enough without it! Oh, but I joke. 

Hope everything else is well with you. Please don't be a stranger; and if 
you have the time, please don't hesitate to die horribly also. 


Lex Luther 


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