The Mayor stood by the window, looking out at the city below. “I’m sorry, Grammar-Man, but this don’t fly.”

“This doesn’t fly,” said Grammar-Man.

“Shut up,” snapped the Mayor. "You’ve saved our city countless times. Every one of our citizens owes you their lives.

“But I cannot overlook this transgretion,” he continued, turning around and leaning against his desk. The Mayor of Torton was an unusually gaunt man, as though he had been made from pipe cleaners. “You leveled every building in the Orphanage District. Do you know how much that’s going to cost us?”

“Far less than if I’d destroyed a school,” replied Grammar-Man. “I mean for one, you’re saving money on paper and ink. And as many of the Orphans from the Orphan District grow into a life of crime—-”

“Shut up,” snapped the Mayor again.

“Look, nobody’s perfect,” Grammar-Man went on. “With the notable exception of Captain Perfection.”

“Exactly!” grinned the Mayor. “Which is why we’ve hired him as your replacement!”

“Oh,” said Grammar-Man, “Snap.”