Alexander Luthor and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
with (semblances of ) apologies to Judith Viorst and Ray Cruz, the author and illustrator of the original
I went to sleep with caviar in my mouth and now there's caviar all over my head and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped over all three cats and dropped my tie in the sink when the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
At breakfast, I saw in the newspaper that Bruce Wayne had gotten a higher P/E ratio and a buy recommendation. All I got was an unchanged.
I think I'll move back to Metropolis.
Hans had moved the car seats up in all the cars while he was doing maintenance and they'd gotten stuck that way and I got smushed all the way to work and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
At work when I was counting the production facilities Gabe Sullivan said that I left out the sixteenth one. Who needs the sixteenth one? I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
I could tell because Clark said I wasn't his best friend anymore. He said that Pete Ross was his best friend and that Chloe Sullivan was his next best friend and that I was only his third best friend.
I hope you sit on a meteor rock, I said to Clark. I hope that next time you get a double-mocha cappucino that the cappucino spills all down the sink and ends up in Metropolis.
After work I went to the dentist and Dr. Fields found a cavity. He said that he'd fill it next week.
Next week, I said, I'm moving back to Metropolis.
So then I went to the car dealer and dad bribed the car dealer so that I could only buy domestic. He can make me buy domestic but he can't make me drive it.
When I went to see my dad he said that I couldn't play with the secret lab but I went in anyway. He said that I shouldn't touch the secret devices but I launched one and I think it landed in Metropolis. It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
My sauna wasn't hot enough and I got soap in my eyes and then the cats had shed in everything but my blue pyjama bottoms. I hate my blue pyjama bottoms.
The cats took up all the pillow and stepped on my face every time I was just about to go to sleep.
It had been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Jonathan Kent says some days are like that.
Even in Metropolis.
AN: It feels like a series coming on...I can just see the Clark Kent and his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Of course, the cats are the Furies, so part of this IS thediehard's fault.
Also, why not join
Level Three, the Smallville all-fic list?