Clark shows Lex the photo of the senator and his lap partner. They let Clark keep that evidence? Lex gulps and takes the picture. "I can't believe you'd destroy someone," says Clark in his best soap-opera actor voice, "just to win a race." It's not just a race, Clark, it's the Tour de France! Wait, what are we talking about, again? Lex gives Clark a sharp look and says that there's a reason they call it a race and "not a political pot luck." He scoffs about having had anything to do with the photo. Clark tells Lex that the girl was killed just before Lex was to announce his candidacy, and says it's a bit of a coincidence. Clark asks if Lex is sure he doesn't recognize the picture. Lex says that the only thing he recognizes is the booth: it's in the Windgate Gentleman's Club in Metropolis. He's left many a stain there. Lex says it's not a very smart stop for an incumbent on the campaign trail. "Incumbent" sounds pretty painful. Clark is sure that someone -- maybe not Lex, bus someone -- is setting up the senator; he thinks maybe it's someone at the club. Are you done accusing Lex, then? Because that's getting tiresome. Lex tells Clark that the club is underground because the police turn a blind eye to the things that go on there. He asks if Clark is sure he wants to get involved with this. Strippers? Danger? Metropolis? Why the hell not? Clark says that Luke is like an uncle to him: "And in case you've forgotten, that's what friends do for each other." Yeah, Clark, you've been such an awesome friend to Lex that this remark's gotta hurt. Assmunch. Lex bends down to get something. He hands Clark a card and tells him he'll need more than a driver's license to get through the front door. The card has a gray graphic of a lady and a "W" in the corner. "Do me a favor: stay out of trouble," Lex says. How about a "thanks," Clark? No? Not this time? You da man, I guess. Clark leaves without saying another word. Able to leap over past friendships in a single bound! Faster than a needed apology! More powerful than people who find it necessary to be polite! He's Superman. And he's an asshole.
Grindy music plays as we pan across some tall Metropolis buildings at night. We cut to an alley, where Lois and Chloe, each wearing a black dress for a night on the town, are walking. Chloe says that even Mapquest has its limitations. Looking for the club, Chloe wonders aloud if you have to go through a manhole to get through this club. Lois spots a big neon door with an Armani-suited attendant. Yeah, that's probably it. The doorway to the club looks like a big metal portal with steam coming out. "Hi!" Chloe and Lois say enthusiastically to the doorman. "Sorry, girls," says the tall man with the goatee. Chloe lies that their friends are already in there, and that she promised Lois she'd take her to the hottest spot in town: "Pleeeease?" The bouncer says that it's a private club, so this is as much of the club as they're going to see. They both pout needlessly, and then walk away. Walking back the way they came, Chloe notices something she didn't see on the way here: two girls -- one in an angel outfit with wings, the other in a cop uniform -- are smoking and chatting next to a door of the same building. Chloe and Lois exchange a look, and then follow.