Snow swirled outside the bus windows as it made the short drive from the Li'l Gifted School to the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. Between two guards who had known him since infancy, a blue seven-year-old slumped, sulking, and not just because it was the anniversary of his home planet's destruction.

Wayne Scott had a new trick. He could take a snowball (and he was already the best at making very firm snowballs that flew accurately and hit hard), gently graze it with the edge of his laser vision so that the exterior melted, and then cool it immediately with his super-breath, leaving a light coating of ice, which made it hit even harder and then break into sharp edges that could cut. The blue child had no cuts on his head, neck or hands (Wayne and his soft-headed groupies knew that if they drew blood the teacher would be obliged to intervene) but his coat and the trousers of his orange jumpsuit were the worse for wear. He hated looking like he'd lost a fight, especially when he had.

Luckily it was the last day before winter break and Minion would have plenty of time to repair them.

The driver had the radio on, tuned to her usual oldies station. At this time of year it was, of course, playing seasonally-appropriate songs. "River" had been playing when he got on. He had only seen ice skating, or rivers, on television but he, too, wished he had a river he could skate away on. As the bus crossed the intersection, "River" ended and "I Am a Rock" came on.

A winter's day

In a deep and dark December;

I am alone,

Gazing from my window to the streets below

On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.

I am a rock,

I am an island.

An image rose up in the boy's mind of his future as Evil Overlord, gazing from the highest window in City Hall at the mindless drones going about their boring lives. They couldn't touch him. They wouldn't matter anymore.

I've built walls,

A fortress deep and mighty,

That none may penetrate.

I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.

It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.

Yes. He would be cold and merciless, a ruler who stands above and outside of their tiny unimportant lives. The fantasy tickled his pride and soothed the hurts of his real life.

As the second chorus began, the bus pulled up to its destination. Still caught up in his dream of future supremacy, he was led off the bus, through the gates, and into the warmth of the main building, where Minion, moving confidently in his robot suit made of scrap metal with a gallon can from the kitchen as the torso, stepped close and spoke to him while his shackles were being removed.

"Uncle Wim is waiting for you, Sir. He's dressed up as Santa and he has candy! and presents! Please pretend to be fooled, Sir." And suddenly the boy who would someday be Megamind had no interest in being a rock or an island. He was back in his real life, embracing friendship, laughter and loving with his whole heart.