How Many Superheroes Does It Take?

Author's Note: This story was originally created as an entry for the now defunct I Have To Write What? contest. The chosen prompt was "A super hero has trouble fixing a common device."

How Many Superheroes Does It Take?

by Rick Pritchett

Superman stood alone in the growing darkness. This was all Lois' fault, of course. She was responsible for the household goods, and now that he needed one, she was nowhere to be found. "Typical woman," he muttered to no one.*

Superman glanced back at the light. He had flipped the light switch, as he had done numerous times before, only to see the momentary blaze of the light followed by the gloaming which now surrounded him.

A superhero, home from a busy day of fighting crime, wants nothing more than to come home, eat some dinner, and rest up for the next day. Fixing things was for the weekend and reluctantly at that. As Superman stood in the growing darkness, the voice of Lois filled his mind. "Everything belongs in its place," she had said after one of the many times that Superman had put a spoon in a wrong drawer. "There is a difference between the spoon you eat with and a serving spoon, you know. The big spoon belongs in this drawer," pointing to a drawer which contained several large, stainless steel spoons, many of which had slots in them. Light bulbs were no exception. They, too, had their place. Walking swiftly to the nearest door he grabbed the knob, twisted and pulled.

This was the closet for light bulbs, he was certain. He peered closer. Where light bulbs should have been there was toilet paper, and towels, and a tile from some long past home improvement project which he had attempted. That fiasco ended with an embarrassing phone call to an installer who took all of two hours to measure, cut, and put down the tiles with this lone piece as the only waste on his part. The man with the "S" on his chest moved all of these items, but nothing which would illuminate his room could be found.

Everything belonged in its place, but that place was apparently not stationary. Superman cursed again. Why did Lois feel the need to move everything around every couple of months? Just when he knew where to go to get the tape measure which, God knew he needed almost every week, when he opened the box nothing but some envelopes or a lighter would stare back at him. As Clark Kent's alter ego would soon find out, it was this very box, the "lighter box" as he came to call it, which now contained the package of light bulbs that he needed. His quest ended after the following internal dialogue:

"It's getting darker. I'm going to need to do something so that I can see in this room."

"I could light some candles. Of course, I'm not sure where the candles are anymore. I know, I'll just fire up one of the lighters. Those are easy to find."

With the box of bulbs in hand, the man of steel marched towards the light fixture. If he bothered to look down at the box of bulbs that he carried, he would have seen a drawing of a bulb and a less than important description of the items he carried. He would not have noticed that the package contained zero information on how to change a light bulb. The task of replacing a light bulb so simple instructions required to accomplish the feat are no longer required. At least the makers deemed them unnecessary for mere mortals.

Had Superman paused to really consider his plight, he would have realized that throughout history man has always trudged through these mundane tasks, usually with heavy sighs and, more often, serious cursing. As he battled valiantly to accomplish this monumental feat, he would realize that it is at moments like these that wives, girlfriends, or women named Lois Lane inevitably say something helpful like, "Nobody is that stupid. You must be playing dumb on purpose."

Now, when presented with this announcement, most men sheepishly move on, struggling to finish what they have started with minimal damage to themselves and to any property in the near vicinity. What they are really thinking is that men really are that stupid. Presented with these inane tasks, a smart man would immediately proceed to the basement, turn on the television, and put on a good game what with the house not currently engulfed in flames and the electricity still working. Still working, that is, unless the light bulb blows.

Superman knew that he was not a smart man. Although every other light was on, and the house was ablaze with the wattage of a dozen lights, only a pale amount trickled into the gloomy room. Nope, he was not smart. This room was not important, not important at all, and he should just leave the whole thing alone.

When he started carefully twisting the dead bulb out of the socket, he knew that he needed some light to assist him. Pulling two bulbs out of the box, he turned his gaze towards one and fired up his heat vision ray. The room filled with a soft luminescence as the bulb burned to life from the fiery stare of the superhero. Now to focus on the new bulb.

As Superman turned to place the new bulb into the socket, he breathed a sigh of relief. He thought about how glad he was that he would finish this before Lois arrived home. He thought that the room was much brighter than he remembered. He thought that he could accomplish anything. He thought all of these things in lieu of paying attention to the bulb he currently lit independent of electricity.

One of the unfortunate drawbacks of heat vision is that it requires extreme concentration to control. The room was, in fact, brighter than normal. The excess heat from Superman's eyes caused the bulb to burn brighter than intended, and before he could extinguish the various unimportant things running around his brain, the bulb exploded in his hand. The room went black again.

Superman felt the lone remaining bulb in his hand and realized that he was sweating. Now he would have to go about this in the dark and run the risk of crushing the delicate glass with his super-strength. That is, if he did not crush the lamp first. The thought of using his heat vision on something else popped into his mind, but he could only guess where the fire extinguisher currently lived.

Reaching out, he slowly placed the bulb into the opening and turned.

The sound of the garage door opening nearly shattered his focus and the lone remaining bulb. He was certain he felt the slightest of give in the forty watter he held. Now was not the time to panic. He fought criminals every day for goodness sake. Gathering his wits, the man of steel calmly turned the bulb into its home and flicked the switch.

Lois opened the door and set down the groceries. A new pack of bulbs peeked out from the top of the bag.

"It's awfully bright in here, don't you think?"

"Yes, honey. It is."


*Interestingly enough it was at this moment that a little known, and long forgotten power, super ventriloquism, kicked in unexpectedly. The man of steel's voice carried two blocks to the home of Jimmy Olsen where Olsen happened to be engaged in a conversation with a girl he had dated for the first time two nights before. Having waited the obligatory one day before calling, Olsen tried everything to get what for him was that elusive second date. His heart, as well as some other parts, jumped when his would be girlfriend remarked that her "very best friend had slept with some guy she barely knew. I think that's kind of exciting, don't you?"

"Typical woman," came the unmouthed response from nowhere. Olsen stuttered trying to come up with anything which would rescue the situation, but the wheels turned too slowly for recovery. Unable to utter something comprehensible, he was left with the click of a dead phone and what might have been.