So, I'm very sorry; and many thanks to the three of you still reading.
You’ve now got 4 readers!
“Kryptonian cocktail,” one of the guys said, grinning at her.
Huh? Is this like Romulan Ale mixed with Surströmming?
“There's this new brand of drain-cleaner out that, when you mix it with anti-freeze, tastes *exactly* like bubblegum!”
CLARK:
I have *no* idea. Must be the Lane-genes and their propensity for downing toxins.
“So, what seems to be the trouble?”
The room exploded into shouting.
“*Now* who's dealing in hypotheticals, Arnold?! This isn't the dark ages, anymore!”
They no longer have Trasks running around?
“I am *not* going to let you put *my* kid in danger just because you feel bad about what happened to yours!”
Low-blow?
Just look at what happened with Wesley—”
“You leave my son out of this!” Arnold thundered. “The boy's learned his lesson; he's suffered enough!”
Yep, sounds like Kryptonite.
I turned down Queen Liz for this, Grams.
*Another* one?
An idea began to cross her mind. She took a deep breath. “Charlotte? Go find Les. Tell him I can solve his Superman problem. I'll be right over.”
“Because you need to stick together,” Lois replied. “Whatever happens, you'll need to be able to work together as a family, without any finger-pointing or resentment.”
Actually, there’s not been a time when more than one Kryptonian where together that it didn’t end in civil war. Some say, even if you got a single Kryptonian male, he’d just develop multiple personality disorder and bash his own head in with an asteroid.
“One more thing: Jordan, I need you to step down as Superman.”
Okay?
“So, what—I'm grounded?” he huffed, folding his arms and glowering at her.
Lois put her hands on her hips and glowered back. “Yes!”
/goes back and checks where he mouthed-off to his Gran-Gran.
I'd like to find out if Wesley's driving skills are genetic.” She beamed at him.
Aahmm…
Lois said her goodbyes and followed Arnold out to his car. Phase one was underway.
She is *so* going to use the movie to out them.
Michael
