The Tycoon arrived in Boomtown with a food cart, two wobbly wheels and a dream. Above the cart a single coin blinked. It seemed to be saying: tap me.

Tap. Coin. Tap. Coin. The Tycoon tapped until the sun went down and the cart was surrounded by a small, glittering mountain. "Okay," said the Tycoon. "Now we BUILD."

First came the Arcade, lowered in by a crane that had opinions about being rushed. Then balloons with money tied to them began drifting through town, because in Boomtown that is a perfectly normal weather event.

Not everything went up smoothly. The Gym caught fire — somebody had left the treadmill on "volcano". The Tycoon fixed it, paid the tiny fire truck in hot dogs, and learned Boomtown's first rule: things break, you fix them, you keep going.

Word spread. A V.I.P. rolled up in a limo longer than the whole first day's lot. They ordered one hot dog, tipped a briefcase, and told everyone they knew. Boomtown was officially a place.

Cinema. Bank. A Biz Tower with more windows than the Tycoon had ever tapped. The level bar filled, and filled, and filled. Somewhere under all that concrete, the little cart was still selling hot dogs.

On the roof of the Biz Tower, the Tycoon looked down. Every light in every window was a coin they had once tapped, a fire they had once put out, a balloon they had once chased. It was a lot of lights.

The town threw a party. Confetti, balloons, and a crown — placed not on the Tycoon's head, but on the roof of the very first cart. "Every skyline," said the Tycoon, handing out free hot dogs, "starts with one."