Wow, it's been a long time since we had one of these. Somehow or other, though, the subject got revived, and so now it seems like a good time to start them up again.

The rules, of course, are the same: Here is one half of a phone conversation; you supply the other half.

Oh, and here's links to the First , Second , and Third HAC challenges.

Have fun, and enjoy!


----------

Clark picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. "Clark Kent," he said, amiably.

After a moment, he frowned in confusion. "Who is this?"

His shoulders tensed.

"How did you get this number?" he demanded.

He looked around the room, flustered. "Look," he began, "I really--"

He stilled.

"Uh huh."

The frown deepened. "Well, yeah," he admitted.

He sighed. "That's not real," he protested. "It's completely fiction."

Clark gave the handset a dubious look, then brought it back up to his ear. "So you say," he said.

His eyebrows raised as he listened. "But how?"

He glanced out the window, lowering his glasses as he peered outside. "I...uh...um..." he stammered. He pushed his glasses back up with one finger. "All right," he said, and immediately hung up the phone.

My apologies in advance for this Clois Arc Ending rewrite.

*****

Clark picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. "Clark Kent," he said amiably.

“Hi, Clark,” a female voice purred in his ear. It sounded a bit like Lois’s, but rougher than normal, as if she’d been smoking. It couldn’t be her. He had been searching for her for days. It was probably another dead end.

After a moment, he frowned in confusion. "Who is this?"

“Wanda. Wanda Detroit,” she replied.

His shoulders tensed.

Who?

"How did you get this number?" Clark demanded. He had an unlisted number for a reason.

“I found it written on the ladies washroom wall,” Wanda said. “It said to call you for a ‘really good, high-flying time’.”

He looked around the room, flustered. "Look," he began, "I really--"

“Just joking, Kent. I understand you’ve been looking for a dame named Lois Lane,” she continued.

He stilled.

“I know where she is. In fact, I’m looking right at her,” Wanda said.

"Uh huh."

He had gotten so many calls like this all week at work. It was hard to listen to them anymore. Not one of the leads had brought him any closer to Lois.

“Brown hair. Long legs. A voice a man would pay good money to just have him sing him to sleep.”

The frown deepened. "Well, yeah," he admitted.

“She said I should call you, that you could hook me up with a man in cape.”

He sighed. "That's not real," he protested. "It's completely fiction."

“Is it? I believe, not only could you hook me up with him, but he’d be willing to go all the way with me,” she said, her voice dropping another octive deeper, sexier. He could swear that Wanda sounded just like an aroused Lois. Not that he’d had a chance to know that side of Lois intimately. “I’ve got what he’s looking for in a woman.”

Clark gave the handset a dubious look, then brought it back up to his ear. "So you say," he said.

“So, I say. So, Lois says. Okay, maybe not Superman. How about you? The three of us could have a really good time,” she said.

His eyebrows raised as he listened. "But how?"

“Bring a box of Double Fudge Crunch Bars to the hotel a block away from your apartment. Ask for Wanda in Room 306, and the four of us can have a grand ol’ time. You, me, Lois, and Superman,” she said, before bursting into laughter, very Lois-like laughter. As she went on, her voice had definitely sounded like Lois. “Maybe afterwards, we can finally do this wedding thing in Vegas. Don’t forget your suit. Oh, and can you bring me something to wear? All I’ve got is a torn nightclub dress, and that black teddy I saw you eyeing at Victoria Secret a couple of weeks ago.”

He glanced out the window, lowering his glasses as he peered outside. "I...uh...um..." he stammered. He pushed his glasses back up with one finger. "All right," he said, and immediately hung up the phone.

*****

Love it! Totally nailed it, Virginia!

Love your entry, Virginia! The ending was just perfect for the way you set it up. It seems the other half of that conversation is to be continued elsewhere...

Here's my entry.

*****

Clark picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. "Clark Kent," he said, amiably.

"We need to talk. It's sort of an emergency," a strange but familiar voice spoke in quiet tones.

After a moment, he frowned in confusion. "Who is this?"

"Uh... Superman. Why? Couldn't you tell?"

His shoulders tensed.

"Look, I don't have time for this right now. I need your help immediately, and you're the only guy I could think of who could handle--"

"How did you get this number?" he demanded.

"D-- Clark! Could you focus please? This is as weird for you as it is for me, okay?"

He looked around the room, flustered. "Look," he began, "I really--"

"Could you just hear me out? I'd like to get home before the end of this century. Now, I need you to make your way up to the roof of the Daily Planet building. Then, I need you to fly out and go pick up an extra Superman suit from your closet, since I'm not sure where your apartment is currently."

He stilled.

"I know you will want answers, but I'm just going to have to ask you to trust me on this one. I am Superman, after all. Even if you might find that hard to believe."

"Uh huh."

The voice sighed audibly into the receiver. "Look. I don't want to have to get into this over the phone, but I'll try to explain as best I can for now. You ever hear of a fellow named H.G. Wells?"

The frown deepened. "Well, yeah," he admitted.

"Well, prepare yourself, Da-- er, Clark. I come from the future-- the year 2023. I was sent back to the past in order to stop something from happening that was going to expose your secret identity to the world. H.G. Wells helped me travel thorugh time to get here. Unfortunately, something went wrong and I kind of ended up... stranded."

He sighed. "That's not real," he protested. "It's completely fiction."

"What? Time travel? Oh, it's real. I'm surprised you don't believe me. I was under the impression that by this point in time you had already been through at least one trip through time."

Clark gave the handset a dubious look, then brought it back up to his ear. "So you say," he said.

"You mean so you said. You were the one who told it to me."

His eyebrows raised as he listened. "But how?"

There was a loud groan of frustration. "Because I'm your son, okay? I'm your son in the future and Mom always said that I look a heck of a lot like you, and apparently it's true because I'm attracting a lot of weird stares. I'm standing just outside of the Daily Planet building and if you don't get me one of your Superman suits to wear then everyone will think you've got some mysterious twin brother that you've never mentioned and then at least this way maybe I can do some good on the Superman front for you. Someone is supposedly still trying to reveal your secret, and I don't think that's something that would be good for either of us. So could you please just indulge me and meet me on the roof? Or am I going to have to storm into the bullpen and make a scene of my own?"

He glanced out the window, lowering his glasses as he peered outside. "I...uh...um..." he stammered. He pushed his glasses back up with one finger. "All right," he said, and immediately hung up the phone.

*****

I might actually extend this a little. Not that I don't have other things to do... but now that I'm thinking about it, it seems like I don't want to do anything else.

Thank you, DC and Mouse. I picked a story and crammed it so it fit (which is actually harder than it looks).

Great job, Mouse! I love your story, and how's he's always trying not to call him 'Dad'. But it makes me wonder, is he floating there where people can see him, but he's naked? WHY does this Superman need a suit? How does he know Clark's phone number without knowing where he lives? So many questions. Please finish!

Virginia: Now That is how that arc should have ended!

Mouserocks: Please, please, PLEASE continue this!

Mouse! So much fun! Looking forward to seeing it extended.

Vieginia and MouseRocks, well done! I loved both of your responses. I wish I had time to come up with one myself.

MouseRocks, my first thought had been that the caller was Tempus, and that he was starting to say, "Duh!" I quickly realized that the speech patterns were wrong. I love who you chose, though.

Joy,
Lynn

Hey, why not.

Clark picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. "Clark Kent," he said, amiably.

“Holy mother of-!” squawked the person on the other end. There was a cough and some self-conscious throat-clearing which he presumed meant the owner of the voice was composing herself. “I should have led with great shades of Elvis, but in hindsight that would probably have seemed a bit contrived.”

After a moment, he frowned in confusion. "Who is this?"

“Only your biggest fan, baby!”

His shoulders tensed.

“That sounds a little stalker-ish, doesn’t it. Sorry.”

"How did you get this number?" he demanded.

“Believe it or not - no pun intended - I read it in a fanfiction!”

He looked around the room, flustered. "Look," he began, "I really--"

“You’re sceptical, I understand that. I never thought for a second this call would actually go through. What are the odds of that, like a gazillion to one? I mean the internet is so full of misinformation you have to take most of what you read with a great big bagful of salt. And yet here I am talking to one of the Daily Planet’s top reporters!” Her excitement level along with the pitch of her voice was rising ever higher. “And Superman!"

He stilled.

“I suppose you’re going to try and deny it now,” she challenged.

"Uh huh."

“Well of course you are. It’s ingrained in your DNA as much as your ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound, or your love for Lois Lane. Not sure where in the timeline I’m talking to you exactly, but that’s not in question I hope.” She didn’t bother giving him a chance to answer. “No of course it isn’t, she’s the love of your life, isn’t she Clark.”

The frown deepened. "Well, yeah," he admitted.

The woman on the phone huffed an unconvincing sigh. “Oh well, a girl can always dream. As long as you take your shirt off periodically and continue to fill out those little red briefs of yours for all to see, we won’t have a problem.” A problem? he wondered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Although, speaking of, what’s up with the uniform in the new Man of Steel movie. Budget so tight they couldn’t afford a pair of underpants?”

He sighed. "That's not real," he protested. "It's completely fiction."

“Nonsense.” Her voice changed from dismissive to seductive. “Sweetheart, I’ve been watching and reading your story for the last 30 years. On film and television, in comic books and fanfic. I’ve even written some of it myself. There isn’t a detail of your life with which I’m not intimately acquainted.”

Clark gave the handset a dubious look, then brought it back up to his ear. "So you say," he said. ‘Crackpot,’ he added mentally, but kept it to himself.

“Or if there is,” she added, “I can always find it out.”

That sounded suspiciously like a threat.

His eyebrows raised as he listened. "But how?"

“FoLCdom, Clark, have you not been listening? Your ass is ours! Remember the time Luthor trapped you in that cage or when Lois got that awful haircut?” Boy did he ever. “Not me personally, but it easily could have been. And when you had your secret exposed to the world? Next time you may not be so lucky about covering it up. Reversing time can be a tricky thing.”

How could she possibly know about that?!

“This isn’t blackmail, darling. You keep us happy, we keep you happy. But one move somebody doesn’t like and you could find yourself drowning in a vat of molten kryptonite! The green stuff, too, not any of those other silly varieties.”

There were ‘varieties’ now? Clark shuddered.

“And just because you don’t think that exists as a possibility doesn’t mean a thing. We are legion. One stroke of a bored writer’s pen, it’s reality and you, or somebody you love, is toast!”

He gasped and she softened a little. “Oh don’t worry, honey, there are very few truly vicious authors out there and it isn’t hard to keep us satisfied. We might enjoy inflicting a little trauma on you now and then, but Lois is almost always there to kiss it better.” Almost always? “And sometimes more than that, if you’re really lucky.” He could hear the suggestive tone in her voice. “Now, be a doll and go take your shirt off in the men’s room. Mama’s in the mood for a little sugar!”

Wha-? Clark swallowed hard.

‘We are legion’ she’d said. ‘Toast’ she’d also said. And ‘molten kryptonite’. Dear God!

He glanced out the window, lowering his glasses as he peered outside. "I...uh...um..." he stammered. He pushed his glasses back up with one finger. "All right," he said, and immediately hung up the phone.

Good Boy.

Too awesome!!!

Terrific, gr8shadesofElvis!

Hilarious, Gr8!

I have to join in saying that the call was a much better ending to the wedding arc. Of course it would have reduced the wedding arc to only two episodes. Well, maybe a third, since that would end episode 2, and then we would have to actually show the wedding.

Wait, the more I think about it the more it sounds wonderful.

I'm glad you liked it, John. I was thinking about you when I chose that topic since we were discussing our hatred of Herb's involvement (or lack thereof) in Clark's weddings, and the stupidity to once again start planning another big huge wedding at the end of the arc, instead of eloping.

Thanks all!

Hi all! Here's my entry, sorry for lurking for so long. This is my first attempt at Lois and Clark fanfic. Hope you like it!


Clark picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. "Clark Kent," he said, amiably.

“Clark! I’m glad you’re home!”

After a moment, he frowned in confusion. "Who is this?"

“Sorry, John Tripp with Publisher’s Clearing House.”

His shoulders tensed.

"How did you get this number?" he demanded.

“Say, will you be home around 10:00 this morning?”

He looked around the room, flustered. "Look," he began, "I really--"

“The van is ready, the balloons filled, media notified…”

He stilled.

"Uh huh."

“We even have the giant check printed. Haven’t you always wanted a giant check?”

The frown deepened. "Well, yeah," he admitted.

“Congratulations, then! You are this year’s winner of the 10 million dollar prize!”

He sighed. "That's not real," he protested. "It's completely fiction."

“You entered, you won! Who knew that TV Guide subscription would be so profitable?”

Clark gave the handset a dubious look, then brought it back up to his ear. "So you say," he said.

“I know it looks on TV like we surprise our winners, but we have to make sure you are home and ready. So look and act surprised, ok?”

His eyebrows raised as he listened. "But how?"

“Just put on jeans and a t-shirt, look like you just woke up or just got done with a chore, and scream real loud-like. See you at 10:00! Bye now!”

He glanced out the window, lowering his glasses as he peered outside. "I...uh...um..." he stammered. He pushed his glasses back up with one finger. "All right," he said, and immediately hung up the phone.

LuckyK that was a very good use of the conversation. I loved it.

LucyK! How fun!

Thank you!

I just read this whole thread in one go, and I'm grinning from ear to ear! I love how the same prompt can result in so many completely different stories. Thanks for sharing, all.

Happy

Clark picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.
"Clark Kent," he said, amiably.

A struggle could be heard along with grunts, smacking noises and tantilzing moans.

"Watch ya hand, doll! Don't you dare touch that! Grab this instead...That's good.... Just a little bit, then I'll get 'cha what you really want."

"Hello?? Clark Kent?" The distracted voice of his caller seemed distant as he spat to some unknown person. "Will you stop that! *I'm* talking to him!"

After a moment, he frowned in confusion. "Who is this?"

"Bobby Bigmouth. I don't think we've met yet but I have something of yours, or some 'one' of yours that I really don't know what to do with... Seems you've got a tiger by the tail here, bud. I don't think she's safe for public consumption," the caller said pointedly.

Something familiar was naggling at his brain... Lois?!

His shoulders tensed.

"How did you get this number?" he demanded.

"Your editor Perry, um, somebody or other... He had his hands full too. Although, I'm not sure what he ws seeing in that dame he was chasing around his office..."

He looked around the room, flustered. "Look," he began, "I really--"

"Now do you want her or not? I really hope you ate your Wheaties this morning, 'cause ya gonna need it, bub," Bobby said matter-of-factly.

He stilled.

"Listen, I stopped by the Planet today to collect my fee of peking duck... I'm a cook by trade and a snitch by night. At the moment, it seems like your little girlfriend here is about two slices short of a premium Chicago style pizza. But I was able to distract her with some prime chocolate I had on my person... Are ya following me so far?"

"Uh huh." Clark's head was spinning. What was going on the the Daily Planet? And Lois?

"She's saying that she's madly in love with you and that you love her too."

The frown deepened. "Well, yeah," he admitted.

"Someone tried to spray me with some love concoction but I ducked. What do you know about it?"

He sighed. "That's not real," he protested. "It's completely fiction."

"Clark!" he heard Lois moan. "I love you! Make love to me! I want to kiss you and hug you and call you Superman!!!!"

Clark gave the handset a dubious look, then brought it back up to his ear. "So you say," he said.

After much shuffling, Bobby had gained control of the phone by now. "Do you believe me now? This doll's gots the serious hots for ya. It was all I could do to get her covered up with something I found on your coat rack and brought her here by public bus."

His eyebrows raised as he listened. "But how?" Public bus?

"I don't know how or what ya gonna do with her but I'm starving. You owe me one for this, Kent."

He glanced out the door, lowering his glasses as he peered outside. There was Lois dropping this large trench coat on his porch and doing the dance of the Seven Vails?

"I...uh...um.." he stammered. He pushed his glasses back up with one finger. "All right," he said, and immediately hung up the phone.

Terrific!

What a sweetie Bobby is to give Lois his chocolates and take her to Clark in harem outfit. Clark owes him big time!

These are all very, very fun!

Gr8Shades, you killed me with “FoLCdom, Clark, have you not been listening? Your ass is ours!"

What an awesome way to start my morning.