Season finale already? It seems like just yesterday I was annoyed by Lana, wished Lex and Clark would finally get it on, and pointed out painful plot holes. Wait, that was yesterday. Never mind.
We open on a computer showing someone's hot brain. It's a computer-generated image of somebody's pulsating cranial activity. A computer-geek-looking guy in a white lab coat is staring at the screen. Something important must be happening. He goes over to an MRI machine where somebody is lying down, getting the head scan. The technician pushes a button to make the machine's clanking stops and causes a slab carrying a person to come out. Hey, it's Professor Snideface! Even in a mind-blown coma, he still looks kinda peeved. Lex shows up. He asks "Doctor Marcus" what was so urgent that he was needed. The technician -- who looks a bit like Beaker from the Muppets -- urgently says that Snideface's brain has completely normalized. Lex sexily says that considering what happened to Snideface, nothing about his condition surprises Lex. The pseudo-doctor asks what happened in the caves. He asks how a linguist gets his mind thrashed deciphering a Native American language. Maybe it was really good gossip. "If you had that answer, doctor," Lex says, "you'd be running the place." The guy smiles as if that would be just a peachy fantasy. Snideface suddenly pops awake. Ack! I know I wished for this with all my heart, but now that it's actually happening...I just don't know. Snideface stares, wide-eyed, with blue cataracts. I get a nasty LASIK flashback. Snideface clutches Lex. "The day is coming," Snideface says. "The day IS COMING!" Snideface says again as Lex tries to get that hand to stop gripping him. Junior Mint Doctor lays Snideface back down flat and Snideface closes those terrible eyes. Lex and Jr. Doctor are both, "Whatthafuck?"
The Barnness of Soon-to-Be-Total-Heterotude. Clark is studying. And to prove how hard he's studying, he erases something. Unfortunately what he was erasing said, "Plato = philosopher. Not Mickey's dog." Lana shows up. She's carrying a box. Clark closes his book. "It's almost midnight," Clark says. Lana -- wearing a weird blue jacket -- says she figured Clark would still be up. By which she means "awake." Lana asks if Clark is writing his term paper. Clark says he's writing his toast for Lex's rehearsal dinner for the wedding. If there's one thing Lex has always wanted Clark to do for him, it's to get toasty. Clark briefly describes the immense pressure of such an act. He asks about the box Lana's holding and whether he's supposed to guess what's in it. He squints for a second, but we don't get the sound effect, so I guess he didn't x-ray the box unless he did it sneakily and without letting the sound guy know. Lana tells Clark to close his eyes. He does. Hard. Lana turns around. She bends over a tad provocatively and sultrily says, "Don't peek." (Hey, I'm not about that, so just shut your mouth. I'm merely writing what I see.) Clark puts his big-ass hands over his face. Lana blows out a match. She presents Clark with something and smiles. It's a little cake with four candles. She says it's not his birthday for another seven minutes, but that she wanted to surprise him. "You did," Clark says and stands. He's not happy. Clark says it's not really his birthday. Oh, you ungrateful bastard. Just take the fucking cake, smile and eat it. Is that so hard, superbeing? Clark says this day is just a day his parents picked off a calendar for the adoption papers. How is that any more arbitrary than the random process of being born on a particular day anyway? Lana looks hurt and, for once, she didn't bring it on herself. She goes over to Clark, who really just needs to be kicked in the balls with a Kryptonite boot right now. She tells Clark that maybe they should celebrate the day Clark came into their lives. "I never thought of it that way," Clark says. Or, more to the point, "I never thought." Lana asks Clark to make a wish. Clark says he's been wishing for the same thing since he was five. Now, he says, he doesn't have to. He's been wishing for cake an awful long time. Oh, maybe not. He puts the cake aside, still lit. "She's standing right here in front of me," Clark says. Oh. Jeez. He was one horny five-year-old. Clark leans in. He and Lana kiss. Tentatively at first, then with a little more sugar and spice. The camera pulls back and the stars outside the loft window look awfully low. They manage to get the cake into the frame as Lana rubs Clark's arm and they continue to kiss. Way to go for that erogenous elbow, Lana.