Demonstrating the inherent dangers of running in a tight skirt and heels, a rather frantic woman spilled into the room. Unsure whether to point or compose herself, the woman settled on stammering all but incoherently.

"M-mister Mayor! There's a... um, a small apocalypse in the park!"

The mayor's eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline as the blood drained from his face. Glancing uneasily to Shelley, he thought for a moment and then inquired of Shelley.

"That... doesn't sound good. Not good at all. Shelley, what's our policy on apocalypses?"