Powerhouse walked into a Mailboxes and Stuff. He sighed. The best thing he could do before the kids got home from school was his superhero duties. Yet, in two weeks’ time, in the light of day, Powerhouse had caught a shoplifter, flown an expectant mother through traffic to the hospital, gotten a cat out of a tree, and directed traffic for two minutes after a signal went out on third and eighth.
He reached the mail box he’d purchased, along with business cards, so people could send him mail. He opened the box. Yes! A letter! He pulled it out. “I’ll solve your problem, citizen.”
Powerhouse skimmed the flier. What? “I don’t care about a sale on Chicken breast. I’m here to fight evil!”
He crumpled the flier up, tossed it aside. Time to consult Zolgron. He closed his eyes and pictured the waterfall and the orange tree. He opened his eyes and smiled. Sunlight caught on the mist off the waterfall, casting rainbows like a prism.
A voice said behind him, “So, there are no major crimes in your town?”
Powerhouse whirled to face Zolgron. “How did you know?”
“We’re symbiotic, remember? I can read your thoughts.”
“Oh,” said Dave sheepishly.
“Have you thought about enforcing laws against minor crimes?”
Dave scratched his head. “Hmm, that’s a thought, but how would I learn them all?”
“Easy. With my powers, you can memorize any book just by touching it.”
Just how many powers had this guy not disclosed to him? “Wow.”
Dave obtained a copy of the City’s ordinances, memorized them, and set out to enforce minor and obscure regulations on the populace.
Downtown, a man that reeked of garlic bought a movie ticket. After Garlic Breath opened the door to the theater, Powerhouse swooped down and grabbed him.
Garlic Breath glared. “What is this?”
“You went to a movie less than three hours after eating at an Italian restaurant. I can still smell garlic on your breath! That’s a violation of City Ordinance 85, punishable by a $50 fine or 50 days in jail.”
Powerhouse flew the miscreant down to the police station.
Once Powerhouse explained what the petty criminal had done, the desk sergeant snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’ve never heard something so absurd.”
Powerhouse pulled a copy of the city code from a pouch on his belt. “Its right here in black and white.”
“Sergeant,” the Italian-eating moviegoer pleaded, “I just wanted to go to Mama Leone’s and catch the matinée.”
Powerhouse folded his arms and shook his head. “You broke the law.”
“Are you really going to make me write him up? It’s a dumb law.”
“It’s still the law.”
The Sergeant sighed and wrote out a ticket. “Here you go, Mr. Molson. Now go down to the City Attorney’s office and see if he’ll drop the case.”
Molson stormed off.
The Sergeant said, “What an idiot.”
Powerhouse dusted off his clean costume. “My work here is done.”
He took the elevator up to the roof. On the edge, he raised his hands to fly away. Across the street, under a canopy outside city hall’s main entrance, two suits puffed away on cigarettes.
Powerhouse flew down. “You’re in violation of City Ordinance 312, which states no smoking is allowed around city buildings, except in designated areas.”
“It’s raining,” said one suit. “I’m a City Councilman. I wrote the law, but this is a canopy area, the designated area isn’t.”
“You’re sworn to uphold the law. So move.”
Powerhouse grabbed the councilman and his friend and dropped them down in the designated smoking area.
He waved his finger at the rain-drenched men. “That’ll teach you to break the law.”
He flew off to do more acts of justice.
A man crossed the street in the middle of a long stretch of sidewalk. Powerhouse swooped down and grabbed him.
The jaywalker glared. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“Teaching you a lesson in the law. Jay-walking is a violation of Ordinance fifteen.”
“But it’s a quiet neighborhood. There wasn’t a car around for miles.”
“Wrong! A car was three quarters of a mile away.” Powerhouse dropped the jaywalker off at a street corner. “You now have to walk half a mile to get back to where you were. Remember, keeping the law always saves time.”
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