Hi Mary!
“Michel, this is serious!” she snapped, folding her arms.
So, French? Does that mean Clark’s twin just got blamed for the Paris airport clone incident?
“I'm talking about the space station! That outfit! What did you think you were doing?!”
Oh, duh! Also, maybe he thought the outfit would help with the ladies?
She wants a very special piece…
I wouldn't normally share something like this, but...” She scratched absently at the fading mosquito bites on her arm. “Never mind. Just remember that it's mine first.”
Lois took a deep breath and let the words out in a rush. “Superman has a secret identity.”
Lois waved a hand in the air. “Oh, please,” she said. “I'm the best investigative reporter for the best paper in the country. There's no way I wouldn't notice those gorgeous brown eyes, that chiseled jaw...” She sighed, lost in her reverie.
Yeah, about that…
“I know, right?” said Lois. “Maybe he figures he won't be discovered if his disguise is somebody completely dull and uninteresting.
CLARK: Dull? I dig up stories on old people getting scammed!
MICHEL: Unintersting? I *literally* work with *rocks*!
He actually came to me—asked me if I could 'get in touch with Superman' for him.” She smirked.
Oh, look, he’s the one who got the smart-cookies.
No criminal record, except for a speeding ticket in England, nine years ago—he reportedly claimed that it was only because his car had French plates.”
“You know, looking at him again, he's just so...dorky. I can't believe I thought he looked like Superman!”
CLARK: He…he…looks just like me?
LOIS: See? Dorky!
Jimmy stared hard at the page Lois was holding. “Actually,” he said, his forehead crinkling, “I think he kind of looks a lot like CK!”
Oh…*Jimmy*!
May I have some more, please?
Michael
