June 05, 2009

I Shot the Serif... (Font Humor)

The sun was setting just past the x-height of the horizon. Bodoni had been pressing on since daybreak, tracking was getting narrower, and he knew his bounty lay over the next hill. The bitter grit of ampersand was coating his throat, and he was thirsty for a resolution. At the top of the hill he looked out. All of Rosewood lay below him.

A pica jumped out from behind a bush, startling him.

"A bit jumpy, ain't ya Serif?" Bodoni turned to see Helvetica standing behind him, gun in hand.

"So we finally get to meet face to face." Bodoni had seen his type before. The rigid lines and smooth angles. Yea, Helvetica was easy to read, but so common he left no impression. The kind of man that lives a hard life, taken for granted. Growing up, he was probably cast away by the ladies in favor of new money, someone from a family like the Futura's or Univers'. Yes, Bodoni would have found Helvetica's appearance comic, sans the gun in his hand.

The two men locked eyes, measuring each other up. "We have rules in these here parts. You can't just run around opening up the lead on any typeface you want."

"I didn't do it, Serif." Helvetica gritted his teeth. Someone was going to see a bullet before the sun sets.

"Why don't you come along quietly? No reason to make a big display out of this."

"That won't be happening. I got a large family to feed. You take me in and I won't get a trial of fair design. And with what you've accused me of, no lawyer would take my case."

"I don't intend to take you in. You've been sentenced to the death, and I am here to watch you bleed."

"I did not shoot Caslon, and I'll be damned if your going to put my face on the murder!"

Bodoni knew he could not match Helvetica for speed. He was a legend, but at the end of the day still the same old character. No, despite his popularity Hevetica would have to die if there was to be prosperity for the Bodoni family. Guilty or not, for too long the Helvetica's had run rampant in these parts. It made it hard for another man to find a purpose. Bodoni would have to open up first. Someone was going to take a bullet, and he couldn't leave Arial as a widow, not now. Killing Helvetica was right, justified.

The Serif pulled out his revolver quick as an em dash and squeezed the trigger. He missed wide, letting out a cursive as he dropped to his left. Helvetica fell to his knees and drew fast. Bodoni took a bullet in the neck and fell backwards. He rasped for breath, reaching for the gun that lay just a few points too far from his hands.

Helvetica stared down at him, pity in his eyes. "It didn't have to be this way. I may have shot you Serif, but I did not shoot your Century."

By Wild (via Digg)

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