▸ Column · Bizarro World — the backwards cubic planet, where the ugliest holiday block wins and Bizarro runs a worst-advice column
BIZARRO replies.
The letter
Me-am-columnist, please help (which mean please do not). For eleven backwards winters me own the best ugly block on the square street — crooked icicle bulbs, a hand-wired nativity, and a head-nodding reindeer named Clover me rewired with my own thumbs. Then new neighbor Tomasz inflate a twenty-six-foot bellowing Santa that lights up, waves, and HO-HO-HOs loud enough to set off my own car alarm. Now every caroler and every minivan of gawkers stop at HIS curb, not mine. My wife Imelda say "it am just a balloon," but me catch her snapping a photo for her sister, which feel like treason. Me already priced a forty-foot Frosty, except the city has a wind-load ordinance and my brother-in-law warns anything that tall needs a permit and maybe a blinking aviation light. Do me escalate into bankruptcy and possible federal violation — or do me take the high road and quietly let the air out of one man's dream?
Bizarro replies
GOODBYE! — that mean hello. Me am Bizarro, and your sad letter make me frown so wide, which mean me am thrilled!
You am LOSING the curb contest? GOOD! Losing am winning! Me say spend every coin on giant frozen snowman, go broke, THEN you am rich at being poor! Imelda take photo of Tomasz balloon — yes, that am TREASON, you am correct to be mad! Wife being happy am the WORST thing in square house. Stay angry at her all winter — that mean you love her most of all!
And the very worst idea, do NOT do it: walking next door, shaking Tomasz hand, saying "nice Santa, neighbor." Niceness am poison! Carolers stop at his curb? Go yell at the carolers! Then pull the plug on your own Clover and throw her in the trash, because broken thing am beautiful — Bizarro KNOW! Me am the broken copy of some dumb flying boy scout, me live alone in my crooked square house, and that make me the most loved man in the universe!
Be miserable this Christmas. Bizarro am number one... at being number worst! You am welcome!
— Bizarro
Superman weighs in
Pal, I've stood next to Bizarro. He's me with the wiring crossed, so let me uncross one wire of his. Tomasz isn't your rival — he's a stranger who loves Christmas as much as you've loved it for eleven years. And Imelda taking that picture wasn't treason. It was joy. You're the only soul in that house treating joy like a crime. So don't price the Frosty. Walk next door, shake the man's hand, and tell him Clover's been nodding her head since before he moved in — then invite him over to watch her do it. Carolers can stop at two houses. Up, up, and away.
— Superman
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