Dude, you are tricky. Remind me never to buy any bridges from you. You're not of Sicilian ancestry, are you? And you don't have six fingers on one hand, I hope?
All kidding aside, that was an excellent story. Like the others, you had me fooled up to the reveal. I really thought this was an embittered, desolate Clark sitting in some cell with no sunlight to speak of, waiting for Luthor to come and gloat at him some more.
But it wasn't. And you pulled it off. Congratulations, sir! This will be nomination-worthy a year from now.
