Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Fanfic Related Fanfic Quiz: Funny moments

Clark took a deep breath and spun into a blurry version of himself. In the wake of the tornado he caused, he knocked three pictures off the kitchen wall and sent a basket of fruit that
was on the table to go flying across the room. He stopped spinning wearing only his street clothes, his new costume no where to be seen. "How was that?" He asked breathlessly.

Martha was glaring at him.

Jonathan was trying not to laugh. "Yup, no one will notice you, Son."

Clark looked around, sheepishly. "Sorry."

Martha bent to pick up broken glass. "Take it outside, you two."

"Awww Mom,"

"I mean it, take it outside! My kitchen can't handle much of this."

"Martha, it's cold outside." Jonathan protested.

Martha looked up at her husband. "That doesn't bother Clark."

"Clark is impervious to cold. I am merely human."

"So wear a coat, human." Martha smiled at her
husband.

"Hello Superman. My name is Joshua Wilkover. If
you want some supervillain name, call me The Pragmatist. By
the way, don't worry about some evil plan that you have to
stop. We have plenty of time to talk. You see, I don't have an
evil plan quite yet. I realized that if whatever plan I came up
with was actually worthwhile, I'd have to face you sooner or
later. So, I decided to get rid of you first. This way, I don't
have to split my resources between killing you and whatever
plan I come up with. Also, if I managed to kill you, I'd get
some respect from the criminal community. That would make it
easier to carry out my plan, once I came up with it. Anyway,
this way it's much easier on both of us. If I had killed you, I'd
have all the time I needed to come up with a plan. If I couldn't
kill you, you would surely stop me. This way, I don't waste
time coming up with a plan that won't work, and you don't
have to go chasing off after some missile or something. I know
that the amount of time it would take you to tie me up
wouldn't be enough to slow you down so that my plan would
work. You would know that, so having a plan wouldn't help
me escape. As for the Kryptonite, it wasn't easy. That stuff is
ASTOUNDINGLY rare. I had a LOT of trouble just getting
that little piece. I'm not sure exactly where it came from, but
the guy who stole it for me said something about ex-
government agents and a stash or something. Anyway, now
that this is all settled, you can take me to the police."

Poor cow...maybe Julie can head over and fix it.

So what did I learn from this adventure? Never max
out your dad's Amex, the Bridge City yell is an effective
mugger repellent, men with superpowers have a lot of
responsibilities so don't try to occupy their time with suicide
attempts, that the King is *still alive* at least in Mr. White's
mind, that people are more than what they seem and finally that
true love comes in different shapes, colors and fabrics and all
one has to do is stand still enough to notice it.

I know you're wondering if I totally gave up my
infatuation on Superman. The answer, no, *gosh* even Lois
carries a picture of him in her wallet . . . *Hey*, I wonder if
Clark knows??

"I must have some left from earlier that I can heat in the
microwave, it'll just be a matter of seconds, unless you're
okay with using your vision thingy to do it - can you
actually do that? I mean, do you use your powers for
anything other than blowing cool breath on cats and saving
nuclear power plants in distress? Mind you, it'd be much
better if I made some fresh coffee, I don't know why I
didn't think about it before I offered. I'm such a terrible
host," she babbled on as she set about her task, opening
and closing cupboards without paying any attention to their
contents. She snuck a glance at her guest, pasting an
awkward smile on her lips, but stopped short when she met
his gaze.

He was smiling. No, he was *laughing*. *Superman* was
laughing at her.

The ficus tree rustled unhappily. The unfamiliar human,
small and flower-scented, had come right up to self as soon
as it had arrived, and the words it had addressed to self
had sounded vaguely sympathetic. Then it had moved into
the kitchen area, from where self often heard the sound of
running water, and self had dared to hope for a minute that
it would actually bring self a drink.

But then the big human had arrived, smelling strongly of
something sweet and spicy, and there had been lots more
words, but no water sounds at all. Now the big one had
gone again, in quite a hurry but without its usual
swooshing noise; and the small one was just standing there,
stone still, breathing rapidly and unevenly.

At last it moved, coming across the floor towards self.
Still no water smell. The couch let out a little puff of
dust as the human picked up whatever it had dropped there
when it first came in. Then its footsteps scuffed up the
stairs and paused beside the door.

"You can get your shower now," it said; and a few seconds
later, the lock clicked behind it. It was gone.

Self wilted a little.

He'd never liked the man, anyway. And the feeling had been quite mutual. Jimmy knew that, given the chance, Wilson would never pass up the occasion to make him suffer. In fact, he was progressively becoming paranoid: he was pretty sure that Wilson wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he could.

Well, he wouldn't be given the chance.

At least, once chopped into pieces, Tank Wilson wouldn't be able to inflict more horrifying haircuts onto other Planet employees. Thank God he hadn't taken care of Lois yet! Though Jimmy didn't doubt that Tank was seriously thinking about the possibility. What would Jimmy become f that happened?

Tank approached him with the confidence that always characterised him when he talked to the young Planet photographer. Somehow, only Lois Lane seemed to intimidate him a little - Jimmy
suspected that Tank had a crush on her, but why would he want to slaughter her hair then escaped him.

"Olsen," Wilson acknowledged with just enough politeness to set Jimmy's teeth on edge.

Jimmy Olsen didn't wait one second longer before he lifted his heavy axe. The head that rolled onto the alley a second later still sported that cheerful grin, but at least Jimmy knew that it couldn't be associated with evil haircuts any more.

Suddenly, a rock near Lex's flattened, eaten, and incinerated body was mysteriously pushed aside, and several tiny people approximately six inches in height emerged from under it. They were clad in antique clothing, reminiscent of the 16th or 17th century, with tiny gold buckles on their hats, belts, and shoes. They ran up to the scene of the disaster and immediately started dancing on Lex's remains.

Poor cow...maybe Julie can head over and fix it.

In front of him wasn't, as there should have been, a statue of Lois Lane and Superman. Instead there was a representation, carved out of black marble, of an overweight man with an unruly mop of curly hair, a double chin and a beer gut. And was that a *tattoo* on his right
forearm?

"You know, yesterday, I didn't really have time to get a good look at that outfit up close. You did a good job on it, Martha. It fits him like a glove."

Martha's eyes had been bouncing back and forth from the young woman's smile to her son's frown until Lois turned to her. Martha's eyes met sparkling brown ones and widened as she whispered. "How did you know I made it?"

"I seriously doubt he'd go to anyone else. For reasons of modesty as well as others." Glancing over at Clark, Lois shook her head. "He's still extremely self-conscious in it, isn't he? We'll have to work on that. Although, he shouldn't have to worry too much. One thing is a given, not a single woman in the world is going to be paying attention to a thing he says."

"Or looking at his face."

Both Lois and Martha burst into giggles and Clark looked over at his father. He didn't get any help from that direction, because Jonathan looked like he was about to choke trying to hold back his laughter. Clark started tapping his foot. "Excuse me, but I AM standing right here."

"How could we miss you?"

Another round of giggles followed that hysterical whisper from Lois.

Eek!!

"She's awake," a soft male voice whispers.

"About time!"

I bolt upright and turn my head towards the sound. A woman,
her arms crossed in front of her chest, is standing at the
foot of the bed. She is staring rather belligerently down
at me.

"You... you... you're..."

"Cover yourself!" she snaps.

Hastily, I draw up the coverlet and hold it bunched up
under my chin. Suddenly, I'm wide awake.

"What do you mean - cover yourself? You're in my bedroom!"

"She's got a point, honey."

Amusement tinges the well-known velvety male voice and I
turn my head once again to gape at him.

Him! It's really him!

"Okay, that's enough! Stop ogling my husband. We'll wait
for you in the living room. Join us as soon as you've put
on something decent."

"Ah, Lois...I...ah...I have to...ah...put more change in the meter. Be right back." Before Lois could reply, he was gone in a flash.

“Twenty thousand dollars," Lois muttered to herself, shaking her head. "And he runs off. Again."

As the mayor droned on, Clark moved up behind Lois and started kissing her neck. Lois bit her lip. "Affectionate tonight, isn't he?"

The mayor smiled. "Why, yes, how ... lucky you are. I think I'll be heading back to my own husband."

"Mingle, mingle," Clark whispered next to Lois's neck.

"Clark, what is the matter with you!" she said, spinning around to face him.

"I love how you dance," he said airily.

"Please come into the kitchen with me ... *now*"

Clark shrugged and followed his wife, but not before Klein grabbed his sleeve. "Nice party, Mr. Kent.

"Bernie!" Clark said loudly. "Call me Clark. That guy in tights has said some 'super' things about you."

Klein blinked. "I'm flattered."

Clark nodded. "I used to be soooo jealous of Superman. My wife was so hung up on him."

"Oh, God," Lois whispered.

"Does he *eat?*" she addressed the TV in a sarcastic tone. "You don't know the half of it, lady! Any*thing*, any *time*, any*where!* And spicy?! Why don't you offer him a nice bomb vindaloo?"

<Stop it, Kent!> he commanded himself, aghast. He was *not* attracted to that juvenile delinquent! That *male* juvenile delinquent! Clark recoiled at the unbidden thought.

Clark looked down at the paper in his hand and started to read. "Don't you recognize me?" He whipped the cape around his face and said in a deeper voice, "I am the terror that flaps in the night." He looked from one side of her apartment to the other, hoping to look menacing -- like the script told him.