We open on the Kent farm at night. Crickets chirp. It's dark inside the house where many a yummy baked good was baked back when the show cared a little about the home life of these characters. Lois enters, calling out to see if Clark is there. She sighs when she realizes the place is empty. "Guess not," she says to no one in particular. Sad, dramatic music plays, sounding like it belongs in the background of an '80s TV movie about babies switched at birth or something. Lois runs her fingers over the dusty countertops, noting that Martha wouldn't approve. She wanders around the house some more and then Chewbacca starts whimpering plaintively off-screen. But wait! It's actually Shelby! Clark's golden retriever trots up to Lois, tail wagging. She greets him with a hug (not allergic anymore, I guess) and thinks that Clark has "ditched" Shelby, too. "Smallville isn't the same without Smallville, is it?" she asks. Smallville without Smallville is a lot like this mirthless Metropo-centric show we have now, actually. Lois notices Shelby's food and water dishes are full and wonders who's been feeding him if Clark is supposed to be away. I want to know who's been walking him and playing with him and giving him tummy rubs! Poor sad, lonely dog. Lois's phone rings.
John Corben is on the other end, greeting her with a cheesy, "Hey, beautiful." Lois asks if he's still at the office. He's walking down some grungy street in Metropolis. "Sitting at a desk just isn't the same without your pretty brown eyes glaring at me." God, I hate playful banter that just isn't. Besides which, what's the unemployed Lois doing at any desk at the paper at this point? John says that since Lois turned him down for dinner, he decided to search out some news. As he talks, there's a cop in the background trying to free a gang of hoodlums out of some iron fencing that's been wrapped around them. "Your favorite freak's been at it again," John says. That's super freak to you, bub. He's going to write a story about the Blur all by himself. Lois doesn't try to horn her way in. "I never thought you'd share the Blur," John says, surprised. Lois says there are plenty of headlines to go around, plus the Blur is out there catching the bad guys. John calls him a vigilante. Lois, back at the farm, draws the Superman symbol in some dust. She manages to refrain from scribbling "Lois + Blur = TRULUV 4EVAH!!!" underneath that. She's not pleased with John dogging her hero. Behind him, there's a burned S on the outside of a phone booth. Lois thinks the Blur is cleaning up the city, but John's worried about him screwing up: "How do you hold him accountable?" Lois thinks John is a cynic; he thinks Lois is suffering from "soft-hearted hero worship." "At least I have a heart," Lois foreshadows. John looks down at his notebook. He's holding a careworn picture of a pretty young brunette. John darkly says he's going to expose the Blur and hangs up. Lois looks at her phone like, "Whatever, crazy person."