Disaster! We open on a television showing the smoking ruins of civilization with a news broadcast calling it "Dark Thursday: The Recovery." First of all, how bad a national disaster could this be if news stations are still broadcasting and citizens still have enough electricity to watch their TVs? Also, "Dark Thursday"? Is that like "Casual Friday" but with little black tights? On the TV, a not-very-good local reporter is saying that the Pentagon is denying that there was a break-in during the disaster. In the foreground, someone is pouring coffee into a very familiar bovine-themed mug. As MamaKent sips her coffee, the woman on the news says that the national recovery will take years, but that the recovery in Metropolis has been remarkably swift.
Speaking of remarkably swift, Clark superzips across the farm and enters through the front door. MamaKent asks whether Clark has been out all night. "I can't do what I need to do in the daylight," he says glumly. Dirty! MamaKent says she knows that he wants to help, but he can't single-handedly rebuild everything that's been destroyed. What if he uses both hands? Clark says that it's his mess, and that he needs to clean it up. MamaKent tells him that he's not responsible for what happened. Except for the part where he summoned the Dogs of Hell, of course. MamaKent says that it's Zod's fault. Stupid Zod! Clark looks at her like he's been slapped, and stiffly says that Zod would not have been released if he'd listened to Jarnelle for once. Stupid Jarnelle! And, uh, stupid Clark for not listening to stupid Jarnelle! Yeah! Stupids! "I have chores to do," Clark says, all mopey. Oh, poor you, Clark. At least your house didn't get destroyed. Clark looks winded. He leans on the kitchen table and somehow doesn't break it. MamaKent asks if he's all right. Clark hesitates, and then says he's fine. MamaKent says that she's never seen Clark this worn out, and that even he has his limits. We've seen him plenty worn out whenever there happens to be a green rock around. MamaKent says that Clark's chores can wait. "Really, I'm fine," Clark mumbles, before going outside.
The Barnness of Toilitude. Clark is hammering nails to build a set of stairs, but using his hands as the hammer. He breathes heavily and doesn't seem to be doing it right. He's also sweaty. Sudden close-up. Clark's face twitches. His nose wiggles. My God: he's having a Big Mac Attack! Quick! Get him two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame-seed bun! No, wait, it's just a sneeze. But it blows the barn doors right the fuck off their hinges, sending them flying! What mighty snot hath torn the world asunder? Clark stares at the open frame where the doors used to be, wide-eyed. Er...Gesundheit?