The Exploding Detective Read Online Free Page B

with
all these requests, adding “Up, Down, And Away!” to some of the signatures. So,
all in all, my first press conference ended up being a rousing success.
    Then the Mayor
hustled me over to a TV studio so that everyone in Central City could see me.
I’m told that my TV interview was almost as boring as my press conference.
Something about charisma. Too much charisma, I think they said.
    “Our viewers want
to know,” the interviewer began, “the source of your great powers. Are you from
a different planet?”
    “Yes, I am from a
different planet, Lyle.”
    “Were you ever
bitten by a radioactive insect?”
    “Yes, Lyle, I
was.”
    “Did ancient Gods
give you your powers?”
    “Uh huh.”
    “Do you come from
a race of super heroes?”
    “Yeah.”
    “So… you got your
super powers from just about everyplace then.”
    “Pretty much. Are
these fruits on the table here decorative? Or can I eat these?”
    “Decorative.”
    “Fine.”
    “Now, our
stagehands have set up some things here in the studio to allow you to
demonstrate your super powers for our audience: a lump of coal you can squeeze
into a diamond, a steel girder you can melt with the heat from your eyeballs,
and a convicted felon for you to disintegrate. Are you ready, Mr. Flying
Detective?”
    “Uh… actually,
Lyle, I feel I should save my super strength for my fight against evil.”
    “Oh. I see. Well
then… I told you you couldn’t eat those.”
    “Oh, okay.”
    “They’re wax.”
    “Fine.”
    When the
interview was over, the Mayor said he thought that was enough public
appearances for me for one day. I was glad. I wasn’t looking forward to that
three hour concert at the stadium anyway. As we were leaving, he said the next
time I was asked how I got my super powers, I should just say I got them by
voting for him. I said I would.
    Now, you would
think, wouldn’t you, that a super hero could sleep in as long as he wanted in
the morning. A guy like that should be able to make his own hours, I would have
thought. I was informed that this was not so late the next morning. I was
awakened by a loud banging on my door at around eleven o’clock.
    When I opened the
door I found the Police Commissioner and Mayor Safeton standing on my doorstep,
pointing at their watches.
    A half hour later
I was in costume, standing on a street corner, yawning, and keeping a bleary
eye out for crime.
    I quickly
attracted a lot of attention. Everyone stopped to gawk at my costume and check
out my superness for themselves. They felt my muscles, punched me
experimentally in the stomach, jabbed me in the side with pen knives, and so
on. I had anticipated this, so I was wearing a great many extra pairs of
underwear under my costume. This not only cut down on the pain, it also made me
look stronger than I really am.
    Some of the
people in the crowd wanted to see me demonstrate my super human strength for
them by wrecking something. Fortunately, wrecking stuff doesn’t require super
powers. Not if you’re clumsy enough. I could wreck things Superman would have
had trouble with. It’s genetic, I guess. My grandfather wrecked North Dakota
without doing anything. Honestly. He was just standing there.
    So I ripped
mirrors off of parked cars, knocked over stop signs just by leaning on them,
derailed a trolley, even broke a guy’s leg. The crowd was amazed. I was kind of
amazed too. I’m always amazed when I destroy something without any effort. It
just shows what you can do if you’re not balanced properly.
    Little kids were
fascinated by me. They were always coming up to me wanting me to crush things
for them - their homework or their little sister - or to sign autographs for
them. I did whatever crushing they wanted done, but I told them the autographs
would cost them $150 each. I was a big-shot now, I informed them. The value of
my signature had gone up. And the expense would have to be passed onto them,
the nation’s kids. Otherwise the economy wouldn’t work.