A sign where the "Kent Farm" sign usually hangs: "R.J. Holstein & Sons -- Auctioneers FORECLOSURE AUCTION." Get your hoes, hoes, hoes! A big truck with a "Smallville Movers" logo passes under the sign. Clark is driving the truck. He pulls up to the barn and spots a very expensive-looking sedan parked outside. Clark gets out and goes to the car, which contains a newspaper-reading The Edge in the back seat. Edge says this is the last place he expected Clark to show up. Clark asks how Edge found him. Maybe the phone book? "Where's my package?" Edge asks. His head can barely fit through the window. Clark says he doesn't have it. Edge asks whether the cops might want to know where Clark's living. Yes, those incompetent police with their phone books and arrest records. How will they ever find Clark Kent? Clark leans in and yells, "I don't think you heard me!" He rips the damn car door off and tosses it aside. Angry Clark! Clark mad! Clark pulls The Edge out of the car, twirls him around, and pushes him against the, um, edge of the car. Clark yells that the package is gone. He says that Papa Luthor doesn't know who took it, so Edge should forget about it. One of the two henchmen from last week -- the suave black dude, not the bloated blond one -- pulls a gun on Clark. The Edge pushes the gun away with his free hand. Clark fixes Edge's lapels and helpfully suggests that he "take [his] sorry ass down the road back to Metropolis." I may make fun of his head, but belittling an old man's ass...that's just wrong. Clark says he doesn't want to see Edge in town again. Ever. Edge and his henchmen get back in their car while Clark smiles, wickedly. No ring necessary.