We cut to the same image of Pete, but now it's on someone else's laptop. The camera pivots to show us Lex Luthor staring at the screen, his brow furrowed. He's thinking, "I understand how Kryptonite could make your body stretch, but your clothes too? That's some powerful-ass gum." He's sitting in his new office at The Daily Planet. Lex knows it's Pete and wonders what's this guy doing back on the show? Maybe if he sticks around, I won't have to do Season Eight. Someone walks in. It's Chloe, who enters without knocking and does her Self-Righteous Walk Of Truthiness. Lex snarks that she must be taking advantage of his open-door policy. Chloe says the I.T. department told her that Lex is monitoring everything that happens on the newsroom computers. Chloe says that unauthorized surveillance is totally unethical. Luckily, if you own a company, surveillance and monitoring is implied. That's why employees shouldn't don't do stuff they don't want your bosses to see on their work computer. Lex says those are pretty big words for a cub reporter. "Shouldn't you be using those to write stories?" he asks. Chloe implies that she's doing to write a story about office espionage. Good luck getting that published. Chloe must not realize that she's an employee at a company and using their resources. Therefore, she has no personal rights to privacy on that equipment whatsoever. Lex says he thought Lois had first dibs on conspiracy theories. "You hacked into my computer and copied my files, Lex!" Chloe yells, "I have rights!" Er, no. No, you don't. Lex agrees with me. He says she doesn't have rights; she has responsibilities. Lex circles around the desk. He says he owns everything in the building. He raises his voice, saying that if Chloe doesn't like the way he's running things, she can go find out if The Inquisitor has nicer work policies. "You're excused," he tells her. Chloe, making a snideface, exits, slamming the door behind her. Well, that was a win-lose in Lex's favor, wasn't it?
Clark at the Stride gum factory. Chew on this. This is an actual exchange we get to hear: "What time is the concert tonight?" "Eight o'clock." "Thanks bro. Keep livin'." I sure hope these roadies are in a dangerous drug haze. Because otherwise, they're just dumb-asses. It turns out the one who said "Keep livin'" and gave some bro-not-foe fist-dap to the roadie was Jimmy Olsen. Clark approaches him. Jimmy asks if Clark heard about Pete's Silly Putty save from the night before. Clark tries to make Jimmy think he didn't see what he saw. Jimmy asks if Clark has a problem with having a meteor freak for a friend. Clark says he doesn't want something happen to Pete. Jimmy says Pete should get the credit and should be considered a hero to the rest of the world. Clark says he's not sure the world will see things that way. Jimmy thinks the world needs a hero now more than ever. We need change! And hope! And snarky political ads about answering the phone at 3 a.m.! Jimmy, serious to a silly degree, says that maybe meteor freaks can walk among us without being afraid. Maybe if you stop calling them "meteor freaks," they will. "Wouldn't you want that if one was your friend?" Jimmy asks. Clark takes a deep breath, which he always does when he's been confounded by tight science. Jimmy walks away, leaving Clark to listen to the clanking of his brain machinery. Clank, clank! Clark starts to follow, but suddenly winces. He's standing next to a bunch of pallets of gum. He pushes one aside, and there's a green glow. There's a giant room-sized crack in the floor with green light spilling out. No one at Stride noticed this structural defect in the building? Man, this gum SUCKS! Clark backs away. Danger! Chewable danger!