Super Scoop

The office of the Daily Planet was its usual hum of clacking, binging typewriter activity as Lois Lane rushed in.

“There was a bank robbery just down the street!” she exclaimed. “Just as I on my way back from lunch.”

“Great!” said Perry White, the editor. “Did you get the story?”

“Not really,” admitted Lois. “I talked to two guys with ski-masks and big bags who were running away from the bank, but they said (she picked up her notes and consulted them) “we don’t know nothing’ about it,” and by the time I got into the bank itself it was all over.”

“Um” said Clark Kent apologetically, “why were they wearing ski-masks?”

“Oh Clark,” said Lois impatiently, “because they were cold, obviously.”

Clark looked out the window at the glorious July sunshine and stood up. “Er, I’m just popping out to, eh, well, er, I’ll be back in a minute.” He moved towards the door, starting to pull open his tie as he went.

Which one is Clark?

Lois watched him go. She was really fond of Clark, much as one would be for a big puppy. He was such a wuss, but very sweet. Plus she reminded him of someone. One of the Proclaimers, she reckoned, though she wasn‘t sure which one.

“What about the rest of the stories you‘re working on?” asked Perry.

A shadow flashed briefly across the window and there was a swift whooshing sound, as if something had flown by very quickly.

“Well,” said Lois, “we’re stuck on the story the big sum of money missing from the mayor’s office. We’ve tried ringing the Mayor, bur apparently he’s gone off to some conference or something somewhere and no-one knows when he’ll be back. We can’t check his bank accounts because he’s closed them all. We don’t know where he’s gone because his passport’s missing. And we can’t ask his secretary because she’s gone off somewhere too. Anyway, she’s a 21-year old blonde, so she probably hasn’t a clue.”

“What about the Masters killing?”

“We can’t get anywhere with that either because the gun used as a murder weapon belonged to his wife and she says she lost it two days ago, so it could be anyone.”

“Ask her where she lost it,” suggested Perry, “it might lead to a, well, lead.”

“Can’t,” said Lois. “She’s at the reading of her husband’s will. Apparently she’s going to inherit twelve million dollars.”

Across the room there was a rustle of paper as Jimmy Olsen picked up that day’s paper by the middle, causing the outer pages to flutter to the floor.

“Hold the front page,” said Lois gleefully. She had always wanted to say that.

“So,” sighed Perry, “what story are you doing for tomorrow?”

“Guess we’ll have to go with a cat being rescued from a tree again.”

“If you think so, Lois,” said Perry, “though I’m not sure how often more your cat is going to let you stick him up there.”

There was a tapping at the window. Superman hovered outside, tapping with his forehead, which he had to do because in each hand he held a ski-masked bank robber.

“Quick,” shouted Ed. “Go get the story!”

He was talking to himself. Lois’s heels could already be heard clicking their way down the stairs.


It was an hour later. Tomorrow’s paper would be filled with photos of the robbers being delivered to the police station and the front page would, for the umpteenth time, carry an exclusive interview of Superman by Lois. Clark had returned to the office and been chided by Lois for once again not being there when all the excitement happened. “You just don’t have a reporter’s instinct,” she told him, “you don’t have the gift of being in the right place at the right time, like I do.”

Clark just smiled. “Well, I’m off home,“ he said. “Goodnight, Lois.”  Lois wasn’t listening, she was staring into space, lost in a daydream involving herself, Superman and a range of positions not achieveable by any man who couldn‘t fly.

As Clark headed home he felt well content with his day’s work. Lois loved her job, it was what she had wanted to do ever since she was a little girl. Clark loved Lois, so he was happy to help her out whenever he could.

After all, when a girl who can’t recognise someone just because he puts on a pair of glasses decides to become an investigative journalist, she needs all the help she can get.


3 thoughts on “Super Scoop

  1. Grannymar

    I wish I had a guy like Clark Kent to finish off the chores I am struggling with today. If he could fly, then he would have all the furniture back in place in a jiffy!

  2. Patti

    You know, I’ve always scoffed at the people who didn’t recognize Clark Kent as Superman just because of his silly glasses – and then recently I mistook one of my daughter’s best friends from Kindergarten on for one of her other best friends – just because now they have matching glasses. It may be a more powerful disguise than I thought – or I am far less powerfully observant than I thought.


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