URBAN LEGENDS
Prisha stepped outside her office building in downtown Calantend, the city abuzz with emergency sirens, police, ambulance and fire vehicles blazing by to secure the metropolis ahead of an imminent attack by a 90-FT young woman. News reports confirmed that young Nastasha Azul had made statements to the effect that she was on her way downtown to “meet the world’s worst art critic and rule over the tiny citizens of the city.”
Prisha, dressed in formal business attire and holding her large stylish aquamarine leather purse, gawked at the mayhem already brewing in the streets and on the sidewalks. Cars honked and people ran around without a clue, tripping, falling and running in front of cars. Prisha smirked as she fumbled through her bag and made her way into a dark alley.
“She’s heading our way! Get this car moving!” Chris exclaimed to his girlfriend who sat nervously behind the wheel, staring in her rearview mirror at a naked giant crushing cars on the freeway behind them. “Let’s get out of here!” The couple bailed out of the car right before Nastasha’s soft soles crunched their vehicle like an eggshell. Nastasha was beaming with excitement as downtown’s skyscrapers, apartment buildings and the City River were in her full panoramic view. The giant beauty had but a few hundred yards to clear on I-984, the rush hour creating a path of multitudes of cars she had to step on. Within three minutes Nastasha, with her shiny green plump lips, green fingernails and matching toenail paint looked simply stunning standing at the intersection of Grand & Templar, the very heart of downtown. Nastasha simply smiled like a sassy, smart feline about to snatch her prey. The giant cutie stared down at the throngs of hysterical people, running in every conceivable direction, darting over cars, tripping and falling over each other as Nastasha sucked on a finger and tapped her toes, breathing in the sweet smell of saliva on her finger.
Nastasha stepped directly into the middle of the massive intersection featuring two lanes of traffic heading in every direction. As she placed her last stride down on the congested road, her foot smashed the intricate network of traffic lights to the ground with the electrical lines snapping like gigantic leather whips, the black wires waving in the air and on the ground as sparks sprinkled about like fireworks on the 4th of July. Nastasha stomped her feet for good measure; cars, which hadn’t been crushed and were still moving, lost control and spun about like tops, smashing into office buildings, flipping over or ramming into crowds of people on sidewalks. The still-sparking and snapping cables electrocuted pedestrians, turning their bodies into overcooked prime beef. The cables burned cars, sparking a number of fires.
Nastasha just stood high in the intersection, peering down the cavernous streets, with row after row of office buildings, five-story brownstone apartments and retail stores. Only a few people stopped to gawk, the majority running for their live in pursuit of freedom from an ever-so-fresh-faced and enlivened gargantuan with the beautiful name. AAAAAAHHH, IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE DOWNTOWN ON A SUNNY AND DELICIOUS DAY, Nastasha breathed sensuously to the city.
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