Clark walks up behind the group and puts his hand on Pete's shoulder, accounting for untold amounts of future chiropractic care. As they walk into the newsroom of The Torch, Clark asks what's up. Chloe spills about the secret admirer. She takes off her jacket; she's wearing a flimsy brown shirt that says...what the hell does it say? The Friisos? The Friitos? Rue Friinge? When in doubt, I just say it's the name of a Scandinavian band. Clark gives a pained blink. Lana, embarrassed, says it's nothing. I think she's wearing the same shirt she wore last episode. "What happened to romantic?" Chloe asks. Pete tells her to let "the boy" just read it. Whatever, man. You're the one who looks thirteen. Clark and Lana exchange a look. Clark unfolds the paper and reads. Chloe smiles, finding all of this delicious. Clark reads it in about three seconds, neglecting to absorb the fine flavors, the measured meter, the cunning consonants. "It's a little mushy," he says. So's his brain. "I forgot," Lana says. "Clark Kent: Man of Steel." It's a Wisconsin cheese attack! They brought their giant Trojan cheese horses! You know, Clark would do well just to find some new friends -- ones who won't talk shit right to his face all day. Lana excuses herself, maybe to go do some laundry. "If you ask me, it sounds more like a stalker than a secret admirer," Clark says after Lana leaves. This from the guy who used to scope her out with a telescope and was looking at her ass with x-ray vision just a few weeks ago. Pete and Chloe don't say anything, but they're thinking volumes.

A new home. We hear the buzzing of a saw or some sort of power tool. Close-up of Byron (chuckle) in the dark. Upstairs, his dad is Molling down the floor, drilling into it. Downstairs in the cellar, the boy's mouth is twitching in fear and anguish. How...poetic! He holds his hands to hid head and cries.