By David <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Submitted: May 2006
Summary: The next file was rather slim, and she held little hope as she flicked open the cover. A thin file usually meant nothing worth mention. Response to the "Title Challenge."
(http://www.lcficmbs.com/ubb/ultimatebb.php?ubb=get_topic;f=3;t= My response to Paul's "The Super Market" title challenge. 000509). :)
Thanks to Sara and Nicole for BRing. :) And a massive, massive thanks to my super GE, LabRat. :)
No, no, no, no, no!
She sighed, rubbed her eyes, and dropped the latest application on top of her rapidly growing, almost toppling, can you really believe this lot, 'not a chance' pile.
The standards really had dropped in the past twenty years.
The next file was rather slim, and she held little hope as she flicked open the cover. A thin file usually meant nothing worth mentioning. A short resume, a headshot, a family history, maybe a few samples of their work… Generally, nothing spectacular. Usually, nothing worth menti…
She blinked. Hardly believing her eyes. A direct descendent of Superman? Third generation, barely pulled on her tights, but… a direct descendent? Applying for a placement in *her* country? Her, out of the way, anything but glamorous country?
This was… unheard of. Absolutely. Direct descendents, no matter how inexperienced, always went straight to the big countries. To France. To England. To China. To America. To Germany. High profile countries. Places where the population was large. Where the tension was high.
But places like Latvia? It was unheard of.
They got… well… to be blunt, they got the second rate superheroes. The heroes who'd fallen into vats of toxic waste. Heroes who'd been struck by lightening. Heroes who'd been caught in unfortunate lab experiments…
They got heroes who could breathe underwater. Heroes who could dig really fast. Or yell really loudly. Or sneeze hurricanes.
They didn't get superheroes who had descended from Superman. Who could… the ambassador bit her lip, reading the page again, just to be sure… Cripes, heroes who could freeze things with their breath, who could light things on fire with their eyes, who could fly. When countries like Latvia went to the Super Market, they didn't come back with heroes who were *Super*.
The ambassador picked up the phone, dialing random numbers before her brain caught up with her fingers, and she almost laughed at herself. Almost, but she didn't, because she could barely blame her fingers for their excitement. For the first time since she'd gotten her instructions, she smiled. She was going to the Super Market…