There was his pal, his little red robot, just visible all the way down there, laying in a pile of trash bags. He looked horribly misshapen and twisted. Was he OK? Could he be repaired?

“Fizz!”

He ran to the elevator and mashed the call button over and over. It couldn’t come fast enough. When the doors finally opened, he leapt in, and smacked the button for the lobby. The ride took forever, the sugary elevator pop mocking him the whole way down.

He bolted out of the elevator, almost flattening an old woman overflowing with grocery bags. He dodged two stroller moms on his way out the door.

He screamed around the corner into the alley, and… Fizz was gone!