The Super Committee

Excised Passages from the Comics: The Super Committee

"Gentlemen, the planet is about to explode!"

"Boxers!"

"Briefs!"

Jor-El took a deep breath. "Perhaps you didn't hear me," he said. "Our planet is about to explode."

Mitch-El glared at the intruder. "Boxers, boxers, boxers!" he snapped. "Can't you see the Krypton High Council has a crisis here?"

"Briefs," countered Bar-El, quietly but firmly.

"Planet!" repeated Jor-El. "Krypton! Our planet! Boom!" He did his best to enhance his message with visual and oral special effects, flailing arms, splayed fingers, heart-felt kerblooeys, and so forth. "But the good news is that there's still time to avert the disaster, if we get on it right away!"

"Yer gettin' nuthin' till this underpants issues gets settled!" replied Mitch-El, hands placed truculently on hips.

"Can't you guys compromise?" pleaded Jor-El. "Certainly both parties can find common ground on underwear, when all of our lives are at stake."

"Compromise, sure," said Bar-El. "That's what I've been saying. I have a plan for 40% briefs, 30% boxers, 18% hybrids, and 12% other options."

"We'll be glad to compromise," said Mitch-El, "as soon as you cave in on boxers."

"The people won't accept that," said Bar-El, "and neither will I."

"Explode!" cried Jor-El, jumping frantically from one foot to the other. "Planet! The. Planet. Explode!"

"The john is down that hall, two doors to the left," said Mitch-El helpfully. "Go on, now, and let the important people settle the important issues."

"Boom!" chirped Jor-El. "Have you heard a word I've said? It's going to explode!"

"Ok, how about this?" suggested Bar-El. "We can't have the people walking, or flying, around with no underwear. Since we can't agree, let's give it to a committee. We can call it ... the Super Committee! I name four of our guys, you name four of your guys, they all go sit in a room together and come up with a solution. And we agree to accept whatever they come up with!"

"And what if they can't agree?" asked Mitch-El.

"Then all underwear is forbidden!" replied Bar-El.

"And these will all be people who have never agreed with each other on anything before in their lives?" continued Mitch-El.

"Correct," said Bar-El.

"Sounds good to me," said Mitch-El. "My four will be Harpo, Chico, Gummo, and Zeppo."

"The planet!" screamed Jor-El. "It's going to blow up!"

"And mine will be Larry, Curly, Moe, and Shemp," said Bar-El.

"Done and done," said Mitch-El. "Shouldn't take more'n 6 or 7 months."

"We don't have six or seven months!" objected Jor-El.

"Did you hear something?" asked Mitch-El with a puzzled look.

"Not a thing," said Bar-El.

At which Jor-El shrugged his shoulders. "Time to pop the kid in the spaceship," he sighed.