“How’d they get my picture, and why’d they paste my face on that dude?”
“That’s not you. His name is Superman. Get this: He ate a bomb and then flew the Prometheus into space. *He* flew it -- no plane, no jetpack, no nuthin’. Just him.”
After Barry looked above the picture to verify that the paper wasn’t really the National Whisper, he said, “Someone at the paper’s pranking us.”
“It’s not April. And they wouldn’t do that even then; they only print the truth.”
“So he’s a magician. If he can pull a trick like that, he’ll become bigger ‘n Houdini. I wonder if there’s any money in being a famous magician’s look-alike? Think I’ll check out one of them -- what-do-ya-call-ems? -- doubles agencies. Could be big money here. Thanks for calling me in, babe. I owe ya one.”
