Hey, folks, welcome back. Four more episodes left until I hook a margarita IV up to myself for the summer. Not that I'm getting impatient or anything. I'm just salting up my arm for fun.
A Smallville country road. A very tony black limo is driving through, as opera music plays inside. In the back seat, we find Papa Luthor wheeling and dealing. He's holding a copy of the Daily Planet, featuring a front-page story: "SENATOR KENT REVEALS FINANCE PLAN." The tiny subhead reads, "We will exploit the children and steal from the old. Then we'll wait for the money to roll in." Papa's telling someone, "Yes, yes, yes," and I begin to wonder whether he's got somebody hiding behind that newspaper. Unfortunately, he's talking into a cell-phone headset and shooting someone's business down. He's telling the person on the phone that however hard their division has been working, this isn't grammar school, and he only cares about results. He interrupts the person to tell him or her that if he gives him or her more time, it'll be a drag on LuthorCorp's balance sheet. Papa puts his newspaper aside and puts his hands together between his legs, as he seems to be having quite a lot of fun explaining that LuthorCorp no longer needs this person's services, and wishes him or her luck with a less demanding company.
Papa takes the earpiece off and lays his head back on the plush leather seat, sighing. Oh, toil. Papa squirms in his seat and digs in his pockets for a bottle of pills. It's Evil Excedrin, for when you've got a headache from being evil this big. Just then, the dark partition between the front and the back of the limo rises. A video screen illuminates. "Hello, Lionel," says some sort of tinfoil monster. It's a dude in what looks like an aluminum foil mask with blue eyes. Wow, the props and costumes budget has officially reduced us to stuff from the Dollar Store. Luckily these masks come in sets of five for $5. The limo suddenly brakes to a halt, sending Papa Luthor lunging forward in his seat. We see a pair of shoes, as the driver gets out from the front. "Alex! What are you doing?" Papa yells. "Sorry. Alex is a little busy right now," says Tinfoil Alien. Papa asks who he is. Papa hears a bell, and turns to see a railroad crossing sign. It's flashing. In the distance, a train is heading for the limo. We see now that the limo is neatly parked right across some train tracks. Tinfoil Alien says that Papa Luthor is used to being in control, and that if he wants to regain it, he'll have to play a little game. The doors suddenly lock. Papa can't get out. Tinfoil Alien says that the train from Smallville to Metropolis should be on time, and that if Papa loses the game, he'll be riding it the hard way. In little magnificent pieces. Papa asks what game. "Hangman," the evil dude tells him. Papa needs to call out letters. The screen switches from electronic gobbledygook to a crudely drawn hangman game. First word is two letters, second word is five. Tinfoil Alien says he'll only get an A for results. "A," Papa Luthor tries. "Too obvious," the alien tells him. A circular head appears on the board. "E," Papa tries. That one works as the second letter of the second word. "O." Second letter of the first word. Papa misses with "T," "G" and "S." The train is getting closer. "Want a hint?" Tinfoil Alien asks, "It's a lesson I learned from you." "M," Papa tries. It's the first letter of the second word. Papa spells the rest quickly to reveal "NO MERCY." "No Mercy!" Papa Luthor cries. No whammies! The door suddenly unlocks. Papa hops out of the car, just as the train is about to hit. The train nails the car, which Papa Luthor is running in front of, and it somehow disintegrates instead of plowing right into him. It also catches fire. Wow, it's all Burnout Revenge up in here. Papa dives to the side, and avoids becoming a limo hood ornament. Just barely. The train passes loudly. Papa Luthor scrambles to his feet. He tries to see who got out of the car. Instead, he spots the "Welcome to Smallville" sign spraypainted red with "HAVING FUN YET?" Actually, yes. Yes we are.