An attempted terrorist attack outside the Daily Planet has just been foiled by Superman. While his co-workers Gary and Dave are still marveling at what they just saw, Superman, having re-assumed his Clark Kent secret identity, saunters into the room putting on his glasses, a wry smirk in the corner of his mouth.
SUPERMAN: Hello fellas, what did I miss? That terrorist attack still happening?
GARY: Clark, you just missed the awesomest thing! Superman was here and wasted those psychos! It was nuts!
DAVE: What happened to you, man? We turned around and you were gone.
SUPERMAN: (hiding smile) I had to go ... to the bathroom.
GARY: You know, it's funny how you're always in the bathroom when Superman shows up.
SUPERMAN: Oh? That is kinda funny ...
DAVE: I think it's even funnier that whenever something scary happens, you just run away like a complete fucking pussy.
GARY: Yeah! Even when you're not in any danger at all. Remember when we saw that purse-snatcher outside the Plymouth Tower? He was running away from us, yet you blew the scene anyway!
DAVE: I forgot about that! Jesus. How does one become such a colossal pussy, Clark? Bad parenting?
SUPERMAN: I wasn't running away! I told you guys, I had to go to the bathroom. I, uh ... have IBS.
DAVE: More like IVS. Irritable Vagina Syndrome.
Dave and Gary give each other a pound, laughing. Superman heads for his desk.
SUPERMAN: Ha ha. Very funny, guys. Good laugh. Now, let's get back to work. I better write up a piece about that terrorist situation.
GARY: Right. You gonna describe what you heard over the sound of your own crying and shitting?
Dave and Gary laugh some more.
GARY: It's a good thing Superman's always around to save our ass, cause you know this chickenshit isn't gonna lift a finger to help.
DAVE: (imitating Clark's voice) Oh gee! A kitten is stuck in a tree, I better go take a shit!
This is where the excerpt from an article usually goes. Since the content of this update is only intended for cool people, I refuse to place a single word in the path of blundering normal people.
Out here in the Wild West we got some rules for gunfightin', like a pregnant lady ain't gotta be carryin' iron for you to draw on her first.
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