Hi Queenie!
the end of his cigarette glowing a hellish red in the dark just before the man stepped out into the murky halo of one of the few working streetlamps.
What’s going on?
He frowned. "I already told you the story," he replied, his jaw twitching as he remembered that fateful day so soon after he and Lois were first wed.
That doesn’t sound good…
He knelt in front of his son, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Son," he said, "Don't blame your mother for this. She had no idea what her actions would lead to, and really, they don't even matter anymore. This is a war."
They worked in tandem, faster than the human eye could see; the boy remembered everything he had been taught. Clark felt more proud of him than words could express.
What’s he doing…?
The commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department frowned
Oh.
Oh! /checks date/ Oh…
at the case files in his hand as he reached over to turn on the bat-signal.
So, what’s going to happen? A pony? The El-crest?
the shape of Mickey Mouse ears silhouetted against the clouds.
"Every year with those two! At least now, I know why he sent Robin to Metropolis with a box of 'pixie dust'."
So, what’s with the pixie dust? Also, I wonder if Batman’s got a chance, even with Robin, now that Superman’s gotten biiiiizzzzy!
You have created such a wonderful tradition, Mary!
Michael
