****Bonus postscript****
Sheldon “Shelly” Wright looked out his front window when he heard the yells. There was a crowd gathering in front of his store, but he doubted it was because he had tomato soup on sale, three cans for two bucks. He picked up the phone.
Time to call for help.
After giving the dispatcher the pertinent information, Shelly hung up the phone. Pushing the snack-size bags of candy he’d been pricing out of the way, he laid his price-gun on the counter and moved closer to the window to watch.
It was another Superman thing. Some dumb clunk had decided – foolishly – to try to mug little old Mrs. Heppel as she left Shelly’s store with her bag of groceries.
Little old Mrs. Heppel might be little and old, but the lady had a healthy set of lungs. She’d obviously called loudly for help, and help had dropped out of the sky.
As Shelly watched approvingly, Superman hoisted the ne’er-do-well bodily off the ground, gave him a stern look, and then glancing around for a moment, strode forward with him toward the sidewalk in front of the store. The gathering crowd parted to let them through.
Reaching the little patio area in front of the store where Shelly had put a few small tables and chairs, Superman stopped and wrenched the top railing from one section of the cast iron fence. Bending it as if it were a bread tie, he wrapped it around the villain, securing him to the lamp post that stood opposite the store’s front door.
Little old Mrs. Heppel had followed Superman and the captured mugger, and as Superman stepped back from the lamp post, she moved forward. Standing in front of the would-be mugger, she shook a stern finger up at him and appeared to be dellivering a lecture. Superman stood nearby, arms folded in the classic pose, but Shelly thought he looked more amused than stern.
As the police arrived and took charge, Mrs. Heppel turned to Superman and patted one folded arm. Shelly couldn’t hear what she was saying, of course, but she was probably offering to bake him some cookies. Mrs. Heppel’s cookies were legend throughout the neighborhood.
With a smile, Superman rose into the air, and the police began shooing the onlookers away.
Shelly turned back to the counter. This was the first time he’d seen a Superman rescue up close; it had been impressive.
Picking up the price-gun, he got back to work. He’d have to have the fence replaced – he'd call around for estimates when he finished pricing the candy. And he’d have to call his insurance man, too. Oh well, at least it wouldn’t come out of his own pocket.
Good thing he had that Super insurance.
----- The End (Again) -----
