It's 6 am. My dog woke me up at 4:45 because my cell phone was beeping because it is out of battery. I couldn't fall asleep again, so I turned on my computer and I ended up writing this. I have no idea if it is even coherent.

Conspiracy

“Clark, did you know Elvis killed JFK because he thought he could be president?”

“What?”

She laughed. “He was a hunka-hunka burnin’ hate.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and peered at her computer monitor. “What are you looking at?”

She turned around to face him. “You have to look at some of these. It’s the greatest conspiracies of the twentieth century. They have everything from Lex Luthor to Jimmy Hoffa to Superman.”

“Superman?” he asked warily. “What about Superman?”

“Oh they have some doozies here.” She clicked on one of the links for him. “Did you know that Superman is a government project to eliminate snow from the universe?”

“What! How is that even possible?” He shook his head. “Why were you looking at this in the first place?”

“I got a link from the Superman homepage.” She smiled at the look on his face. “What! Yes, I visit the Superman homepage.”

“Why?”

“I have to see what they’re saying about my soul mate.”

“No, honey, that wasn’t what I was saying.” He sighed. “Where in the world do these people get their information?”

“I don’t know. We could probably spend all day trying to find out.” She clicked on another link. “But this is far more interesting right now.”

His jaw dropped. “Lois! Superman has Lex Luthor’s love child? What kind of web site is this?”

She laughed. “The same site that says Jimmy Hoffa is alive and well and running Intergang.”

“Lois, do you realize that if Jimmy Hoffa were still alive, he’d be almost ninety!”

“I know,” she said. She rolled her eyes. “This guy says that if President Mershmegy would think about hiring Superman . . .”

“Why would he hire Superman?” He narrowed his eyes. “We both know Superman works for free.”

“I know. But according to this conspiracy person, Superman already gets paid fifty million dollars a year in hush money.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Clark, maybe it’s time Superman should think about charging. We could really use some of that money.”

“Are you really saying I should expect to get paid to look for Jimmy Hoffa?” He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

“Exactly,” she replied. “Since Lex Luthor died there have been more Hoffa sightings than Elvis sightings. I’m just saying maybe we should look into it.” She paused, and then said, “We do need the money.”

Clark sighed. “Lois, are you serious?”

“Well, according to this, I’m having Superman’s love child, so maybe we do need the money.”

“What!” He took a step back and read the message. “Posted by Mad Dog?” His heart raced. “Lois, did you . . . Are you?”

“Of course not, honey, but . . . I think that’s the greatest conspiracy of them all.” She laughed.

“Lois!”

“What? You can’t judge me, Clark. I know you check www.alien.com.”

“But I don’t post fake conspiracy theories.”

“Oh you don’t?” She typed the address into her browser. “Do we really need to see about that?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll look for Jimmy Hoffa.”

The End


Laura "The Yellow Dart" U. (Alicia U. on the archive)

"A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." -- Christopher Reeve