Blovusberg

Blovusberg is a city 5 million strong; a charming metropolis with parks, rivers, lakes, and trails. Its schools are admired and its roads maintained. Beautiful from within, most visitors are distracted by the monstrous pair of chartreuse spires that tower over either side of town; each one-mile high and topped with its own type of vegetable.

Currently its citizens admire a blimp-size model of an eggplant on one. The other impales a gargantuan celery stalk, tilted at a 45 degree angle, as if ready to be dropped into a bloody mary. Both public works projects took ten years of R&D followed by ten more years of construction. They were completed last year, and no Blovusbergian can forget the unveiling.

It was a bright summer day and the streets were completely empty. Every citizen stood on their lawn, hopes and chins high, anxiously awaiting the two cylindrical curtains to finally fall. They had endured the obnoxious jackhammers and unsightly cranes for over a decade, and were excited to see how their beloved town would be represented. After all, these statues would be their mark, their global identity. They knew that whenever they went abroad, the name "Blovusberg" would instantly evoke the image of whatever is behind those two curtains. Today they would find out...

Trumpets blasted over public radio as the commentator hollered the countdown. Fighter jets rocketed through the air and pyrotechnics blasted from all sides as the curtains finally fell. As the shiny purple hull and leafy stalk first became visible, a deafening silence enveloped the town. On one side, the curtain's top slipped gently over the smooth, bulbous curves of the enormous nightshade. On the other side, it slid down the slanted green stalk, catching for a moment on its end and then dropping off entirely.

A collective gasp shocked the region. Each turned their heads and covered their eyes in horror. Divided in many ways, for that moment, they could agree on one thing...neither spire could relieve the eyes from the hideousness of the other.

The radio commentator began shouting congratulations to the workers who anguished for so many years to complete the project. Half of Blovusberg, 2.5 million, were directly involved in its development. If it wasn't attractive, it was the blood, sweat, and tears of the whole town. Everyone had a brother, father, or sister who worked on the spires. It was their creation, their hard work. How could they be so unappreciative!

"One mile high!"
"500,000 tonnes of titanium! Each!"
"Cost: A mere 3 billion (each)"

From the radio came the statistics. This was their legacy! A permanent reminder of the productive, resourceful, and inventive people of Blovusberg. The overpowering voice congratulated 我们爱巨型菜, the lowest-bidding Chinese design firm.

To this day the spires sway gently as a constant reminder of the greatness of Blovusberg.