Chapter 1: Town Troubles

 

The city of Villagedale. At first, it appears to be like any other city: Large skyscrapers, many parks, and suburbs for miles around. But on the statistics page, it’s a different story. Villagedale tops the lists in unsolved crime, damage done by huge monsters, and number of times hit by a flaming meteor from outer space. It is not an easy place to live. And that’s why the Town Council President, lovingly known as the Prez, has convened a meeting of the top officials of Villagedale in the City Hall.

As the men gathered into the secluded meeting room, the press of Villagedale swarmed the entrance, wanting to know what was going to be done behind closed doors. “No comment,” seemed to be the preferred answer for the time. At 7:00 the doors were shut and locked from the inside, and everyone took their seats around the oval table, with the Prez in the center chair.

“I think you all know why we are all here tonight,” he began. “For years we have been the focus of national attention because of our high crime and disaster rates. We are something of a joke to all of the other major cities. At one time, many years ago, we were a model society. Today, daily trouble alerts are the norm and our citizens are fearful to be outside any longer than they have to. The only reason any people still live here is because of our excellent police and emergency services, which, despite all of our misfortunes, can clean up the rubble relatively quickly. But not quick enough.”

“With all due respect, sir,” interrupted the Chief of Police, “our resources and men are maxed out. Right now we’re doing the best we can, and we really cannot do better. Ten men have already quit the force this year and have moved elsewhere due to the high stress they are forced through every day. We simply cannot battle 200-foot monsters and flaming space-rocks effectively.”

“Thank you Chief,” continued the Prez, “and I commend you and your men for their services. You go up and beyond any call for duty. As we know, you do the best you can. And the disaster relief teams,” he said, looking at the Health Commissioner, “are outstanding. But… not enough to keep this city as safe as we would like, don’t you agree?”

Heads around the table nodded in quiet agreement. Most had spent their entire lives in Villagedale. Their visits to other cities showed that they were missing out on what could be.

The lights dimmed, a screen slid down the back wall, and a slide projector hummed to life.

“This, ladies and gentlemen,” the Prez said, looking at a black and white photo of City Hall, “was Villagedale 100 years ago, in 1900. At the time our social standard was at the top of the charts.” The projector clicked.

The next few slides showed photos of well-known superheroes.

“After Superman began saving Metropolis in the 1930s, other superheroes and superheroines began appearing in other cities across the world. By 1998, every world city-and-suburb complex with a population above 1,000,000 residents had at least 1 or more superheroes. All, that is, except for the City of Villagedale.”

The officials stared silently at the table, wondering not for the first time why their town was excluded from the norm. They were joked about mainly because no superbeing had ever decided to make Villagedale his/her home. The superheroes tried to explain how they were “destined” to defend one city their entire life, and that despite the generous offers the people of Villagedale made to them, they could not change their city. But it always confused Villagedale-ians. Why must they suffer while the rest of the world had super-help?

“I believe it is up to us to make our own fate. We must get our town a superhero by making one!” The Prez shouted as the lights were turned on.

“Yes!” was heard from all areas of the table.

The Prez stood up on his chair to his full 3-foot height, and took off his bifocals. He turned to his secretary, Cara Bral, and said, “Would you please let Professor Ranium in now?”

She opened the side door, and Professor Ranium, dressed in a white lab coat, stepped through the doorway. He appeared nervous: a little shaky and sweat on his brow. He had no idea why he had been asked to attend tonight’s meeting, and he felt privileged (and a little scared) to be shown in front of all of these important people. He forced a smile and waved weakly to the crowd.

“H-h-h-i.”

The Prez hopped off his chair and shook the Professor’s hand. “Thanks for coming by, Professor Ranium. You’re probably wondering why you’re here. Well, I did a little research, and found out you are the head of our university’s acclaimed bioengineering program. You have developed several organisms and vaccines in your tenure, several of which have saved our citizens from certain death due to alien viruses. Because of your talents, I think you are worthy of what I am about to ask of you. Oh yeah, and you’re the second cousin of Professor Utonium, the creator of Townsville’s popular Powerpuff Girls!”

“Uh-huh,” was all the Professor was able to muster.

“Professor Ranium, I am asking you to make us a superhero. Every available resource will be at your fingertips. Our town was once a beautiful flower, but it has long since wilted. Through your efforts, it will bloom again. And so, as Town Council President of the city of Villagedale, I am appointing you head of Project Bloom: giving Villagedale a superhero to be proud of! What do you say?”

All of the heads at the table turned towards the Professor, begging him silently to accept. He wiped his forehead, and glanced at the faces.

“Um, su-sure.”