We cut to the overturned red truck. Bo Duke and MamaKent see the young, naked Clark Kent staring at them as he bends down. He smiles at them. Aw.
But, nearby, in a flaming crater, we pass over what looks like Clark's familiar Kryptonian baby ship and see a weird, ugly, dark object, something like a big onyx wad of cookie dough. There seems to be a tentacle below it. The shape cracks open, spilling a nasty yellowish goo and showing a gross, sticky material inside. We follow the flow of the icky goo as it goes down the hill and pools into a growing shape. As the smoke clears a bit, we see a boy curled up in a fetal position on his side. He has dark hair. He's trembling. He looks to be almost nine or 10 years old. He lies there naked and vulnerable as we pull far back. When we can see the whole crater, the video transitions back to a still drawing, an amazingly accurate one showing what we just viewed. Tess, talking to herself, says Papa Luthor was too blind to see the truth. A crescendo of tubas play. "There was another," she says. Another what? Another crater? Another book? [Another Skywalker? - Z] Hey! Wait! Don't cut to the -- We cut immediately to the opening credits.
Commercials. Don't hate me if I like the Old Navy mannequin commercials. They remind me of a simpler time when you could make a whole movie about a mannequin on the move. [I like them, too. Although I don't like Mannequin 2. - Z]
The Daily Planet globe spins, daytime. Tess is on the phone in her office, telling someone they've done a very thorough job. I think she's talking to Lana about the level of ruination she brought to the show over the years. Clark, escorted by a one of Tess's suited bodyguards, enters. He's also wearing a suit, punctuated by a bright blue tie. Clark waits until her call is over, then hands over some sheets of paper. "I think I'm ready for the front page," he tells her. All right, let me correct you: you don't print out copies of a story to give to your editor, you e-mail them (or shout across the newsroom) that the slug is ready. And nobody says, "My story is ready for A1." They tell you that. Unless you're a complete rank amateur who doesn't know what he's doing, in which case, way to go, Clark. "An article," Tess says. She's as surprised as me. Clark says he found a bunch of missing-persons cases that nobody's talking about. Until NOW. He says there are similarities in the cases. But he doesn't list them. "This city is being attacked and no one seems to care!" Except YOU. Run with it, Clarky-boy! Tess gives Clark a sly sideways glance and says it makes you wish the Red-Blue Blur wasn't sitting down on the job. No, the Red-Blue Blur is busy printing out shit, wasting paper. Clark thinks the people were attacked by the same person, and that they should warn the city. Tess glances at the "article." The conversation next takes this turn: