Upside down General Lee truck. Bo and Martha are hanging, heads against the top. Red tulips line the roof of the truck. Coming toward them, on the smoking ground, is a set of skinny kid feet. "Martha?" Bo asks, because he's never seen young imaginary boys while awake. The child bends down, skillfully hiding his naughty bits. He's got big bushy hair and an adorable face. He looks into the truck, a serious look on his face. Bo and Martha exchange a look. The kid smiles at them. It's a super smile. Aw, man, I wanted Super Infant to pick up the truck like in the movie. Oh well.
Next shot is Bo and Martha walking through the flaming carnage, carrying the young boy in their arms, wrapped in a blanket. Is there a rule that every truck owner has to have a blanket handy? "Kids just don't fall out of the sky, Martha," Bo says. They do if they live on the second floor like Luka. Martha and Bo try to figure out where the boy came from. Bo throws a stick for no good reason at all and continues to talk in his strange corn-fed booming farmer voice. I hate it. I hate it bad. It is then that Martha and Bo find the boy's pod, a black mess buried into the ground. Martha surmises that it's not from Kansas. Well, yeah. They don't even have Hondas here. Bo wonders what they'll tell people about their new "son." Martha says, "We didn't find him. He found us." I wish the channel changer would find me. Triumphant music. The couple looks up to the sky for a needless crane shot. I get the feeling we're going to see a lot of these from-the-sky camera angles.
We come back from commercial to a simple farm. Titles read, "Today." Suddenly, we're looking at the internet, so we've leapt ahead, what, fifty years? It's Clark Kent! All tall and salmon-lipped. He's looking up stories about extraordinary kids, like the teen who is the fastest person in the world, or the five-year-old Korean kid who lifted the car to save his dad's life. Well, the educational system is better in some countries. Their kids lift cars at least three years before ours do. Martha calls out and tells Clark he'll be late for his bus. He opens the fridge, which is full of Mountain Dew and Pepsi. Ew. But Clark is smarter than the product placement: He grabs a glass jar of milk and drinks it right from the container. Martha disapproves. Clark says it tastes better out of the bottle. Clark says he learned his manners on a farm, which is funny. Bo Duke walks in and says, "Well, hello, Sleepyhead!" and he invests "Sleepyhead" with so much conviction, you wonder if he didn't spend a week refining just how to say that line. Then he picks up the jug and drinks milk straight from the bottle. Hereditary mystery solved. Clark sits at the kitchen table, eyeing a piece of paper. He tells Bo that he's got a permission slip. To be on the football team. Clark reasons that his dad played football in high school. Yeah, he's such a raving fan so many years later. Bo says, "That was different. You know why." Clark says he'll run at half speed. (Only 3,000 mph.) Bo's not convinced. He says that a lot can happen in the heat of the game. And in the heat of the showers. Clark says he probably won't play much, and is excited about warming a bench. Bo is an understanding yet firm father. He says no. "I'm sick of hanging in there," Clark says, turning into Supermope before our eyes. "All I want to do is go through high school without being a total loser." Oh, poor you, Clark. You're over six feet tall, your dad is Bo Duke, and you have lips like Johnny Greenwood from Radiohead. Me and my 5'8" body would like you to bite us. Oh, and bite us for the Honey Comb cereal box being placed in plain view on the kitchen table.