Disclaimer: The characters, plot and setting are in no way mine.

Notes: This is a parody, or travesty if you prefer, of the pilot script, written by Gough and Millar and

transcribed by tmelange here: http://www.lexslash.com/pdfs/pilot.pdf. Much of the original material remains.

Warnings: Bad language. Random inappropriate quoting. British slang.

The camera pans outer space. We see meteorites hurtling towards a very bright light. Also hurtling is a baby spaceship.

The cameras pans the moon (and says rude things about the Earth, too). We see that all this hurtling is aimed at the Earth.

screen text: October 1989

Cut to a chopper and a cornfield.
A sign welcomes us to Smallville,Kansas. Popular, Creamy and Cornfed.

Cut to the inner helicopter. A man with an evil beard (Lionel Luthor) is reading the funny pages. A little boy with improbable hair sits next to him. The boy looks like he has a bowel disorder.

Lionel: This has goats in it! You can never trust in-flight food! Hold it in, Lex.

Lex (Screwing his face up like he's passing a camel): I can't!

Lionel: Luthors do not explode. We don't have that luxury.(He leans over to Lex and breathes in his face.* Lex looks no

happier for this*) You have dignity, Lex. You'll never get anywhere with your bowels smeared across a helicopter.

Cut to View over Smallville.

A small, crow-like girl (Lana) in a terrible fairy princess costume is in a flower shop. She's waggling a wand.

Lana: Abracadaver.

Jonathon and Martha Kent walk into the shop. They say ouch. Then they go into the shop,* mildly concussed*.

Jonathon: Afternoon, Nell.

Nell (with full on husk): Jonathon! (with nails in mouth), Martha!

What a surprise! What brings the Kent cabal to town?

Martha: Tulips. They appeared to me in a dream and ordered us to come here. Meh.(shrugs)

Nell: Tiger orchids are cooler.

Jonathon: Martha prefers to dream of tulips. It's her way.

Nell: Yes, well, she is out of her mind. Divorce her Jonathon! Marry me! I'm sex-on-a-stick! I have

affidavits!

Jonathon and Martha smirk to themselves over that crazy Nell.

Martha feels compelled to join the dark force that is Lana.

Martha: That is an interesting dress, Lana. Are you a princess?

Lana: I'm a fairy princess. For ever and ever and ever.

Jonathon: Hey, why aren't her parents here?

Nell: They detest her. They're at the Homecoming game, gurgling with Lana-free joy.

Lana: Do you want a wish?

Martha: Sure, spooky child.

Lana: Okeydoke. (brandishes wand dangerously) Abednego!

Cut to the street outside. Obviously outside.It's a street. Martha's in a pickup truck, dreaming idly. Jonathon's outside, doing the heavy lifting. He gets in the truck.

Jonathon: I know what you wished for.

Martha: I see a little face. It's creeping me out.

They snog,* to rid themselves of bad images*.

Jonathon (seeing car parade): Looks like Smallville won again.

They drive off.

Cut to Outer Spaaaaaaace. We see the L'il babby ship and the meteorites hit Earth's atmosphere. They do not apologise and are punished for it by spontaneous combustion.

Cut to a crow in a cornfed field. The crow is startled, as you would be, by a rock falling from the sky. This is Foreshadowing.

Cut to Lionel. He is meeting with some melon farmers by the cornfield.

Lionel: Lex? Son? Hey, Carrots!

Cut to Lex, who turns around.

Lionel apparently didn't have anything to say after all. He turns back to the farmers.

Lionel: Where do I sign for some hot melon action, boys?

Farmer: Right here, Mr Luthor.

They snigger as Lionel falls for the old "Melon farmer" ruse and buys a crappy creamed corn factory.

Cut to Lex entering the cornfield.

Disembodied Voice: Join usss.

Lex: Ulp.

Disembodied and utterly creepy voice: I mean; Help me. Please.

Lex runs. See Lex run. See Lex run into the embodied creepy voice.

Scarecrow: Hey. Kid. Oi, Clownhead.

It's behind you!

Lex slowly turns round and sees a skinny guy roped to a Pole wearing nothing but boxer shorts and graffiti. The skinny guy is wearing the same things.

Lex: (falls over) Field Porn!

Skinny Guy: Please, please help me. He enjoys this, but I'm freezing my tits off.

In the distance we see the meteorites beating up the atmosphere with smoke and nailed clubs. Lex has got up and is gawping at the sky. A large cloud of debris comes over to say hello. Lex suddenly remembers that he owes it some money. See Lex run! Run, Lex, Run. See the cloud engulf the skinny guy and throw Lex playfully into the air.

Lex: Aaaraugheeeouch!

Cut to main street.

Many people litter the streets. A long black trail of doomy smoke is trailing towards them in the sky. The people watch with interest, dicussing its likely trajectory and point of impact. Some of them mutter surprisedly.

Crowd: Gosh! Blimey! Ooh, my giddy aunt!(etc)

Nell walks out of the flower shop with Lana. She spys the smoke.

Nell: Bloody Nora!

Cut to a young couple, with everything to live for, standing opposite the flower shop. They see Nell and wince at Lana.

Laura "Doomed" Lang: Hi Lana!

Lana: Mommy! Daddy!

Suddenly a meteorite falls flat on the Langs and squishes them into self-saucing pancakes.

Nell and Lana are a bit shocked and upset by this rummy turn of events. As Lana weeps, heartbreakingly and with phlegm, a passing Time photographer nips in and takes a quick shapshot.

Cut to the Kents, driving on home, whistling. A meteorite gets nasty with the road just next to their truck.

Martha: What's happening, Jonathon?

Jonathon: I don't know. Big hail?

A meteorite knocks their truck off the road, in a scene the A-team would kill for.

Cut to cornfield.

Lionel runs round ragged, like a bluearsed fly, looking for his son. We see the corn has all lain down, in sympathy with the "Just" video. In amongst it are a few tufts of reddish hair. Whoo, has that boy shrunk.

Lionel (to the hair): Lex? Lex?

But Lex doesn't live there any more.

Turning, Lionel sees something. He unearths Lex from under a heap of knackered corn. Lex is shaking and whimpering and in need of a hug. Lionel recoils like he just stepped in a rhino turd.

Cut to an upside down truck. The Kents hang from their seatbelts. It's relaxing. Suddenly a naked toddler appears.

Jonathon: Martha? I see... naked people.

Martha spots the unclothed sprog. She gawps. The boy grins unnervingly.

Cut to Jonathon and Martha. With one (offscreen) bound they were free, and lugging the kid around in a blanket.

Jonathon: Kids don't just fall out of the sky, Martha. That's what my dad always used to say.

Martha: Your dad called you Martha?

Jonathon: We didn't always get on.

Martha: But where did he come from Jonathon?

Jonathon: I don't know, but he must have parents. That's basic biology.

They stop short upon finding the l'il babby ship on the ground. They form certain conclusions.

Martha: Well, if he does they certainly aren't from Kansas. See? No licence plate.

Jonathon: Sweetheart, we can't keep him. We don't know where he's been.

Martha: Finders keepers, losers weepers. So there.

screen text: Today

Camera pans a farm. Cut to computer screen with caption: "Record breaking teen cuts hands"
scroll down to
"Six year old Korean boy lifts car off injured father. Also money, credit cards."

Martha: Clark Kent, you're going to be late for the bus!

Clark: Coming, Mom!

He isn't. He hasn't met Lex yet.

screen text: Smallville

An average day, in the average life of your average alien-harbouring household. Clark is in the kitchen drinking from the bottle. Martha's shaking her head, looking like she'll throttle. Jonathon's in the garden, hanging out the clothes.

And down came the blackbird, but luckily he moved.

Martha: Clark. Don't do that.

She snatches his milk, rather rudely.

Clark: It tastes better out of the bottle.

Martha (sighing): Your father prefers it direct from the source.

Jonathon enters, pursued by a bear. It gets stage fright and leaves. Jonathon takes off his flannelly farmerly jacket.

Jonathon: Well, good afternoon, sleepyhead.

Clark: Dad, stop kidding around. I've been able to tell time since I was eleven.

Martha: Oh and don't forget I have class tonight. You'll have to cook for yourselves. Deal with it.

Clark sits at the table, nursing a piece of paper. Cereal is scattered about. Apparently Clark has the table manners of a Bugblatter Beast of Traal.

Jonathon: Heya Son. Wotcha got there, Sport?

Clark: Permission slip. For the after school litter pick-up. I've been hit with a surge of enviromental consciousness.

Jonathon: Oh, really?

Clark: Okay, no, it's for the football team. Say, isn't it odd that we call it football and yet don't use our feet, but saddle a genuinely foot-related game with the bizarre title of soccer...

Jonathon: Don't try and distract me with abstract Britishisms, Clark. And don't belittle Football in this house. It is a sacred and special game. And you're not playing it.

Clark: Come on Dad. I'll run slowly. I won't tackle anybody. Basically, I'll just stand about on the pitch, looking keen.

Jonathon: What if there's an accident?

Clark: I'll take clean underwear. (bzzt) See, quick change, no-one'll even notice.

Jonathons: Knickers on the inside, Clark.

Clark: Oops.

Jonathon: No Football for you, Braintrust.

Cut to Clark walking outside his house. There are cows. They feed themselves, keeping a sharp eye out for Jonathon.

We see the schoolbus, being just missed by Clark.

Cut to Chloe and Pete on the bus. Chloe hands Pete cash.

Chloe: I can't believe you bet against your best friend.

Pete: I can't believe how sexy you are.

Chloe: Sorry?

Pete: I said, if Clark moved any slower he'd be extinct.

They laugh.

Cut to Clark, thinking.* Gears whir*. How to get to school, how to get to school? Hey! Wait just one second, matey boy...Somewhere a lightbulb explodes.

Clark switches on the superspeed and zooms smugly off into the cornfield.

Cut to billboard: Pleasant Meadows, another Luthorcorp Project, making America better, homing small puppies, curing cancer and winning one for the Gipper.

Cut to Smallville High School.

There's a banner on the wall that says, "Fly to Victory. Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink. Fly, eh? Know what I mean?"

We see Pete and Chloe.

Pete: So, anyone asked you to the dance? Because I really fancy you.

Chloe: No.

Pete: Well, you know, if nothing pans out with thingamibob...

Chloe: Pete, I've told you a million times, I'm not interested in Clark.

Pete: Well, in that case...did I mention that I find you...I mean really breasts and...

Clark walks in.

Clark: Hi! I'm Ed Winchester.

Chloe is confused.

Chloe: Uh, didn't you just...didn't we...didn't I...I mean, how...?

Clark: I took a shortcut.

Chloe: Through what? A black hole?

Clark: Why, no. That would be highly perilous.

Pete: Well, we can't stand here gabbing all day. We have to hand in our permission slips.

Clark: Actually, Pete, I've changed my mind. Football. Meh. Synchronised swimming, now there's a sport.

Pete: Clark, come on. It's the only way.

Chloe: Wait, you're trying out for the team? A man short enough to get onto the Tiny Tots Teacup ride and one who trips over dust motes? Are you insane?

They drag Chloe a slight distance, just out of malice.

Pete (whispering extremely loudly): We're trying to avoid becoming this year's scarecrow. And the Teacup ride was ages ago, I've grown an inch since...

Chloe: What are you on about?

Pete: It's a Homecoming Tradition. Every year before the big game, the players select a fine-looking figure of a freshman, strip him to his shorts and paint an "S" on his chest.

Clark: Then they string him up like a scarecrow. It neatly combines the related fields of religion, sex, bullying and performance art.

Chloe: Well, that's a jolly mean thing to do.

Pete: We figure they won't pick one of their own.

Clark, attention span exhausted, looks about vaguely. He spots Lana Lang, an orphan.

Clark: I'll just desert you now and go see the pretty lady.

He wanders off.

Pete pulls out money.

Pete: Give him ten seconds.

Chloe: Five.

Clark strolls. Walkety-walk.

Pete: 1--2--3--4--5--

Clark falls. Crashity-crash.

Chloe gets her money back. Smuggity-smug.

Cut to Lana passing Clark a book. It's the Portable Nietszche, available from all good book shops. We see Lana's necklace*. We see it glow. They, apparently, don*'t.

Lana: Nietszche. Didn't know you had a dark side, Clark.

Clark is trying not to upchuck on the pretty lady.

Clark: I just seem to tan more on the right. It's slightly embarrassing.

Lana: Uh huh. So, what are you- Man or Mouse? Er, I mean, Superman?

Clark: Superman? I'm not Superman! No sir, no way, no how, Lois.

Lana: Sorry?

Clark: Never mind. Had a flashforward.

Whitney approaches.

Whitney: Lana, there you are.

And so she is.

She smiles. They kiss. Clark watches, running his mental videotape.

Whitney: Hey, Clark. (to Lana) I was wondering if you'd check out my, er, English paper, babe. It may need...patting into shape.

Clarks sits sickly.

Whitney: Hey man, are you going to park a tiger? 'Cos, that's gross.

Clark: I'm fine.

Whitney chucks Clark a book, which causes an ensuing slapstick scene.

Cut to the innards of the school.

We see a trophy case. We see Jeremy, the scarecrow from earlier, looking in the case. He finds a picture of three attractive football players and steals it for later use.

Jeremy: It's paycheck time. Um, cashback time. Page Beck time?

Wanders off, mumbling.

Cut to Porsche. It drives towards a plant with the sign: Luthercorp Fertilizer Plant the Third (Esq.) It's cold and raining and Lex hasn't brought a hat. He gets out of the car anyway. He looks good. A million viewers turn toward the dark side.

Lex is mightily unimpressed.

Lex: I'm mightily unimpressed. And wet.

Cut to a 'foot'ball game. Whitney and the school team are prancing about on the field. We see Lana being head cheerleaderly.

Cut to Clark watching Lana, wishing he'd brought his extra strength binoculars. He fantasizes about being the goddamn best, goddamn football player, there'll ever goddamn be. Everybody loves him. The ball explodes in a burst of Freudian inspiration. Lana runs up to him and adores him, gooily.

Lana: I knew you could do it, you big strong hunk of man, you.

The crowd cheer them on. They're about to swap spit when...

Pete: Clark!

Pete is wearing the football uniform of a three hundred pound gorilla. Needless to say he's hard to spot.

Pete: Does my bum look big in this?

Clark: Pete? Are you in there? Pete, you got devoured by sports gear!

Pete glares at Clark and pulls off his helmet.

Cut to Lex driving in his cool cool Porsche. We see a truck coming the opposite way. It spits up a coil of barbed wire and drives off, giggling.

Cut to Clark, a-moping on a bridge.

Cut back to Lex. His cell phone rings. Lex abandons the rules of road safety and fishes out his phone. Looking up he sees the metal on the road. Oopsie. Crashing into the coil, Lex loses control of the car, which aims determinedly for Clark like a homicidal Herbie the Love Bug. There is an elegant slow motion crash sequence.

Cut to The Underwater World of Cars. Lex is in the driver's seat, unconscious and floaty. The roof of the car is suddenly wrenched off and Clark lugs Lex out.

Cut to Clark gently laying Lex on the river bank and kissing him with tongue.

Clark: Come on, don't die on me. Then this'd be necrophilia.

Fortunately the Kiss of True Love has it's usual effect and Lex wakes up. Clark fondles him a little more just to make sure. Lex spits up water and gazes into Clark's eyes.

Lex: Is this the face that launched a thousand ships? And, didn't I just plough into you at high speed?

Clark: If you did...I'd be dead.

He looks a little worried. He's seen the Sixth Sense.

Pan over the riverbank.

Ratty and Mole frolic in the sun. Ratty shows Mole how flexible his whiskers are.* Further along the riverbank*...

...Clark sits soggily on the grass with a red cape...sorry blanket...over him*, while many, many cops wander around and comb things. Jonathon bursts in, like an angry blister.

Jonathon: Clark! Are you okay? Blanket suits you.

Clark: I'm fine Dad.

Jonathon (yelling randomly): Who was the maniac driving that car?...I'll rip his legs off...fong him...pain, lots of pain.

Lex comes over. He also looks good in a blanket.

Lex: That would be me. Lex Luthor.

He sticks out his hand. Jonathon regards it with the air of one offered a squishy dead skunk.

Jonathon: Jonathon Kent. This is my adopted son, Clark.

Lex (to Clark): Thanks for saving my life.

Clark: Shucks, it twere'nt nuthin'.

He blushes and shuffles his feet. Jonathon doesn't like where this is headed. He drags his son away.

Lex: Clark's an extraordinary boy, Mr. Kent and one hell of a kisser. If there's any way I can repay you...

Jonathon: Do you have the 'Big, Bouncy and Bovine' Spring catalogue?

Lex: Er, well no.

Jonathon: Oh, erm, forget it then. Ahem.

Jonathon and Clark leave as the Porsche's mangled corpse is dragged from the river. The roof of the car is very suspiciously peeled back. Lex looks all Hmm. Mysterious.

It's night and we're panning again. We skip along to the yellow brick Kent house and spy on Clark as he spys on Lana. Lana comes out onto the porch.
Clark is a happy boy.
Whitney suddenly sneaks up behind her. Clark puts down the tissues.

Lana and Whitney snuggle a little. Lana,* however*,* isn't that sort of girl*.

Lana: Whit-ney. Nell, my horribly oppressive aunt, will be back at any moment.

Whitney: Hey, we're living life on the edge.

Lana (ignores him): I mean she might go tsk. And wag her finger really...hard.

Whitney: Where is she anyway? She does seem to vanish a lot.

Lana: Lex Luthor's.

Whitney: She's wasting her time there. That bloke bats on the other side of his trousers.

Lana: She sold the Luthors a ton of land. A metric ton. The bucket was enormous.

Whitney: They own the Metropolis Sharks. And the New York sewer crocodiles and the Essex panthers, but I digress.

She could tell them how great I am.

Lana: If you want someone to put in a good word ask Clark. He saved Lex's life today.

Whitney: No way, Jose!

Lana: S'true. I think life saving is a positive thing. (She nods for emphasis. Life-saving good. Yep.)

Whitney: So anyway, the coach said to look out on Saturday, the scouts are coming. I'm glad he warned me. They can do mean things with those woggles.

Lana: Here. Wear my necklace for protection.

Whitney: I can't take this.

Lana: You can give it back after you win.

Whitney: No, I mean...I can't wear a necklace to a football game. That's just...weird. And besides it's made from your

parents' murder weapon, don't you find it a little...?

Lana isn't listening. She is doing a Good Deed.

Lana: So much bad luck came out of it, only good luck can be left.

Whitney gives up, disturbed.

Cut back to Clark,* still watching away*.* Now he's wearing a long dirty mac*.

It's still night*, we're still panning and Frank's Auto Repair shop is our goal. Frank also has a stalker.

Frank: Jesus H. Christ on a bicycle!

You scared the crap out of me, kid. Look, there it is.

He walks toward the kid, who lurks in the shadows.

Frank: Don't I know you from somewhere? Oh yeah, I stripped, painted and crucified you a few years back. Good times, huh?

How's the Polish fella?

Jeremy smiles the smile of an insane man. Frank reacts foolishly.

Frank: Hey freakazoid, wake up!

He pokes the nutter on the shoulder. There are manuals about not doing this. Jeremy has a terrible static electricity problem which flings Frank into a tool cart.

Frank: That was twelve years ago, man. It was just a game. It was an accident, the dog ate my homework, I overslept, what do you want?

Jeremy: To play.

Frank: Uh, I've got Twister in the back...

Frank is duly electrocuted. A lot.

Day.

Cut to Clark , coming home from school. Merrily, he skips along. Doop de doop. But what's this? A ruddy great truck in the driveway! Giftwrapped!

Clark: Hey Mom! Whose truck! (please let it be mine,* please*, please, please)

Martha: Yours.

Clark: Yes! High Five!

Martha: It's a gift from Lex Luthor.

Martha hands Clark a card.* He reads it out loud*. Martha is very proud.

Clark: Dear Clark (ohmigod he loves me,* he loves me*) Drive safely (snerk) Always in your debt. The maniac in the Porsche. (swoon)

Clark skips a little more.

Clark: I don't believe it! Where are the keys?

Martha: Your father has them.

Clark: Ah. Now I believe.

Cut to a scene from Fargo.

Jonathon is stuffing Steve Buscemi into a woodchipper.* We see Clark walk over*.* Jonathon switches off the machine*.

Jonathon: I know how much you want it, son. But you can't have it and you can't keep the truck, either.

Clark: Why not? I saved the guy's life.

Jonathon: So you think you deserve a prize?

Clark: Yes. And a thank-you blowjob.

Jonathon: This is not about fellatio, Clark.

Do you remember Mr. Bell? And Mr. Doorknob? And old Mr. Candlabra?

Clark: No.

Jonathon: Well, they cut deals with Lionel Luthor. He gave them flashy gifts. And then he killed them all with an AK47. And

their little dogs too.

Clark: So, you're judging Lex on what his father did?

Jonathon: No Clark, I...well, yes. Yes I am. You still don't get the truck.

Clark is both angry and upset. He gives his dad a Superglare.

Jonathon: Clark I know you're angry, it's normal...

Clark turns the stroppy up to eleven.

Clark: Normal?

He goes over to the woodchipper and turns it on.* Steve's mortal remains are slurped away*. Clark waves his hand around.

Clark: Is this normal?

He plunges his hand into the chipper. That is indeed not normal. Don't try this at home,woodchipper-owning kids.

Jonathon runs over to him. The chipper makes ominous grinding noises.

Jonathon: Clark! You'll bust it!

He pulls Clark's arm out of the chipper. It's not even scratched. The blades, however, will never chip again.

Clark: I didn't dive in after Lex. His car hit me at 60 miles an hour! I'd give anything to be normal.

Jonathon: Normal and dead?

Clark ignores him, not wanting to waste a good stomp. Jonathon sighs. Martha, in the background, tuts a bit.

Cut to Clark in the loft. Jonathon comes in.

Jonathon: It's time, son.

Clark: Time for what?

Jonathon: The truth. Sometimes honesty is just unavoidable.

          I want you to take a look at something. (*He hands Clark a weird diskette thing with strange and wondrous symbols  
          on it*.)
          I think it's from your parents. Not us, the other ones.

Clark: What does it say?

Jonathon: I don't know, son. I was sick the day we did Martian at school.

Clark: What are you saying, Dad?

Jonathon: You're real parents weren't exactly from...around here...

He squints and nods his head significantly towards the sky a couple of times.

Clark: What are you trying to tell me Dad? That I'm from another planet?

Jonathon: Planet Schmanet, Janet.

Clark: I'm from another planet and I'm a girl?

Jonathon: No Clark, I meant...I mean God no, Clark, I hope not, but...anyway you're an alien.

Clark: Well fuck me bandy.

Jonathon: It wouldn't feel right, son.

Cut to the storm cellar.

Jonathon pulls the tarp off the ship to show Clark. Ta-Da!

Jonathon: We found you the day of the meteor shower.

Clark: How come you didn't think to mention this before? Like... Hey Clark, the Human Race? You don't have a membership

card.

Jonathon: We wanted to protect you.

Clark: From what?

Jonathon: Um...species envy?

Clark: I hate you, I hate you, it's so unfair!

Clark superspeeds away, lightly singing his dad.

The camera pans Lana and it's right to do so. She rides into the cemetery carrying flowers. She hears a noise as she dismounts.

Lana: Who hell you?

Clark: Clark.

Lana: Clark Kent?

Clark: How many Clarks do you know? We're mercifully few.

Lana: What're you doing a-creeping about in the woods?

Cut to Clark in front of a winged statue, so the wings appear to spring from his shoulders. He looks like a great big mopey seagull.

Clark: I'm not creeping. I'm posing.

He turns away, miffed.

Lana: Wait Clark...(sincere voice) are you okay?

Clark: I'm hanging about in a graveyard. Does that strike you as okay behaviour?

Lana: Hey, I'm here too.

Clark: Exactly.

Lana: I come out here to talk with my parents. You must think I'm pretty weird. Conversing with the dead.

Clark: Oh yeah. That's mondo weird.

Lana's tuned out again.

Lana: They died when I was three. Those were the only happy years of my life.

Clark: Gosh.

Lana: No, don't be sorry Clark. It wasn't your fault that meteors came from the sky and crushed them before my tender young

      eyes.
      Come on, I'll introduce you.

She grabs Clark and drags him over to a grave.

Lana: Mom, Dad this is Clark Kent. Say Hi, Clark.

Clark: Hi.

Lana cackles madly.

Cut to tombstone:
Lewis(1957-1989) and Laura (1959-1989) Lang. Forever in Syrup.

Lana squats. Clark squats. They squat together.

Lana proceeds to talk to the grave. Clark looks nervous throughout.

Lana: Yeah, he is kind of dumb. (listens to the spooky voices in her head) How should I know? Doofus. Cark, Mom wants to know if you're upset about a girl.

Clark shakes his head.

Lana: Dad wants to know if you're upset about a guy.

Clark blushes.

Clark: Uh, no. No. Nope-ity-nope.

Bloody dead people. No respect for privacy.

Lana: Yeah. I mean that's just silly.

Clark coughs.

Lana: Seriously, Clark. Why are you here?

Clark: Well, when a mummy alien and a daddy alien love each other very much... I mean... hey, Lana, did ever feel your life was supposed to be different?

She nods. She can't help it. She has a novelty nodding car-dog in her convoluted ancestry.

Lana (takes a deep breath): Sometimes, I dream that my parents aren't dead, they just nipped off for a pack of cigarettes.

                            From Brazil. 
                            Then they turn up and we drive back to my real life where everything's perfect and fluffy for                       
                            ever and ever.
                            And then I wake up. For a minute, I'm totally happy until I realise... I'm still... alone.

Lana looks sad.

Clark: ...Apart from your aunt, of course.

Lana: Well, yeah.

Clark: And your friends.

Lana: Them too, but...

Clark: And Whitney.

Lana: Right.

Sooo, did my parents talk to you?

Clark: Talk...? Uh, yeah. They said you're real pretty and they're real proud of you and you shall be Queen of the May.

Lana: Ooh, goody!

Cut to Clark walking Lana to her home.

Lana: Thanks for walking me to my home.

Clark: No sweat.

Lana: Do you realise this is the longest conversation we've ever had?

We should do this again.

Clark: We'd get deja vu. That can be nasty. Boils and such.

So, are you going to the dance?

Lana: Yes. With Whitney. My boyfriend.

Clark: Oh yeah.

Lana: Are you?

Clark: Going with Whitney?

Lana: Going to the dance, Clark.

Clark: Nah. Why dance when you can...not dance.

Lana: Shame. 'Cause if you change your mind I might just be flexible about the whole boyfriend scenario. And I mean flexible (She pecks Clark on the cheek. Usually he only gets that from chickens. Ugly chickens at that.) Goodnight Clark.

Cut to Clark grinning. She's gone!

Cut to Whitney lurking. He watches, displeased.

Panning the outside of the Luthor Homestead. Cut to the interior. We see Clark trespassing in a hallway.

Clark: Hello?

He picks a random door and barges in. Inside two people are fencing. Clark watches with surprise.
The woman fencer pins the man against the wall. Clark watches with his tongue out and a notebook. But, sadly, the encounter goes nowhere and the man flings his frustrated sword across the room. It embeds itself in the wall by Clark's head. Yeep, he thinks.

The guy takes off his mask. It is the one, the only Lex Luthor.

Lex: Clark?

Clark checks his reflection in the sword. Yep. He was definitely him.

Lex: I didn't see you.

Clark: I, uh, buzzed but no one answered.

Lex: They wouldn't. I don't have a doorbell.

Lex walks over and pulls the sword out of the wall. Clark looks nervous. And aroused.

Lex: How did you get through the gate.

Clark: Come on, Lex, your security is lousy. An arthritic granny could force her way in here.

Lex: That's true. At some point, I really should tighten that up.

Clark: Is this a bad time?

Lex: No, no, I think Heike has sufficiently kicked my ass for the day.

Clark: Oh. Kinky.

Lex walks past him out into the hallway. Clark looks around, well impressed.

Clark: This is a great place.

Lex: Yeah? If you're dead and in the market for something to haunt.

Clark: Actually, I know this dead couple, might be wanting a change...

Lex: It's the Luthor ancestral home or so my father claims. He had it shipped over from Scotland, the flash git.

They go upstairs, where Lex undresses. Lets linger over that for awhile. Sadly he has clothes on under his clothes.

Lex: So, how's the new ride?

Clark: That's why I'm here.

Lex slings a towel round his neck and selects a bottle of blue water.

Lex: What's the matter? You're more of a chocolates kind of guy?

Clark: No it's not that. I can't keep it.

Lex is vexed. Sexy vexed Lex. He puts down the water and has a Tex Mex. Lex walks over to Clark. He looks him in the eye and then in the body.

Lex: Clark, you saved my life. I think it's the least I can do.

Clark looks down. He wants to see what Lex was looking at.

Lex: Your father hates my guts with a burning passion, doesn't he?

Clark gives a 'well, yeah, kinda' shrug.

Lex: It's okay. I've been bald since I was nine. I'm used to people judging me before they get to know me. Or else they have this compulsive urge to lick my head.

Clark chokes a little.

Clark: It's nothing personal. Definitely not that personal. My Dad just hates your Dad.

Lex: Oh good. Would you rather be Romeo or Juliet?

Clark smiles shyly. Lex smiles shyly.

Clark: I have to go. Thanks for the... truck.

He hands over the keys to the truck and starts to leave.

Lex: Clark!

Clark stops.

Lex: Do you believe a man can fly?

Clark: No Lex. It's all done with wires.

Lex: I flew. When I was dead. Death was quite fun altogether.

     I soared over Smallville and saw a fresh beginning. Also, some couples making out in the bushes and a streaker.( *He  
     smiles at Clark*).
     Thanks to you, I have a second chance. And some vivid mental images. (Shakes head) Hell of a place to get a thorn.

Clark sympathetically winces.

Lex: We have a future, Clark. I don't want anything to stand in the way of our timeless love story.

They look at each other for ever.

And there we cut to:
Town,* where a man leaves a store on a stretcher*. Chloe and Pete are slack-jawed gawpers in the crowd. So is Jeremy.

Chloe and Pete (in chorus): Boom. Boom. Boom. Another jock bites the dust.

Pete( points at Jeremy): Say, who's that suspicious looking character.

Chloe: I don't know, but he sure is suspicious. I'll take his picture and investigate his life history.

Cut to Torch office. We see a yearbook picture of Jeremy.

Chloe: This is Jeremy Creek, twelve years ago. This is him four hours ago. I bet he uses Oil of Ulay.

Clark: That's impossible. He'd be about twenty six today. Twenty somethings just don't look fifteen.

Clark breaks off feeling unaccountably embarrassed.

Pete: I bet on evil twins. But I lost.

Chloe: Jeremy was in a coma for twelve years. His electrolytes were out of whack, hence the no aging thing.

Clark: Oh, well as long as there's a plausible explanation.

Chloe: He's awake now because of a massive electrical storm which, I theorise, turned him into a walking electrical generator. I think he's using his powers for evil.

Clark: But why go after a bunch of dumb, helpless jocks?

Pete( does drumroll): Twenty years ago, to the very day, on a dark and stormy...

Clark: Pete.

Pete: They made him the scarecrow.

Chloe hands over a informative newspaper clipping.

Chloe: The meteors did it! They're behind everything that goes on in this messed-up town! Now, if only we could find their leader...

Clark: Mad. As. A snake.

Chloe: No, seriously. I have a wall.

Pete and Chloe introduce Clark to the Wall of Weird.

Chloe: It started as a scrapbook and then kind of mutated. Which is quite ironic, really...

We see clippings of various weirdnesses: Area man's right side moves to his left side, while his left moves over to his right; Glowing green things found scattered about-ignored; Cow feeds self,is invited on talkshows.

Clark: Why didn't you tell me?

Chloe: We all keep secrets Clark. That was aimed at you, by the way.

The camera is dragged, slowly and inexorably,across the wall to centre on Lana's face, blubbing her three-year old eyes out on Time magazine.

Clark: Whew, Lana was an ugly kid. Wait! Lana...me...my fault...sorrow and heartbreak...No!

Clark speeds away, leaving Pete and Chloe in his dust, choking slightly.

We cut to the front of school stairs, which Clark is going down on. He's so occupied with this that he's startled when a hand descends onto his shoulder.

Clark: Chloe, I'm in the middle of somethi..

But lo! It is not Chloe but Whitney, the Hound, who has our fair young hero.

Whitney: Congratulations Clark! You made scarecrow this year! It was a tough field but you just had that edge.

Clark: Wow! Do I get a badge?

Whitney: Er, no.

Clark: Oh, well. (loses interest and turns to leave).

Whitney grabs him, exposing his necklace.

Clark: Hah! That's so girly. (Suddenly realises what it is and wilts a bit) Oh shit.

Whitney: Girly eh? Well now you can be girly too! (slings necklace on Clark) Hmm. Looks good on you.

Whitney and other assorted jocks, dump Clark in their truck and speed away, cackling all the while. Jeremy watches and lurks in the shadows. He's a multitasker.

It's night and Clark is sprawled, in his boxers, on a cross. 'S' is spray-painted on his chest. Any resemblance to any other characters, real or imaginary, is bloody obvious. At least he doesn't have a Crown of Kryponite.

Jeremy: Heh. Heh heh.

Clark: Help...me.

Jeremy: Well, I could but ...nah. I'll just go and commit revenge on everybody, thanks. At the Homecoming dance. Thought I'd just drop that in.

He walks off, having failed in his duty as a boy scout and clean living American.

Clark: Bugger.

Which links us neatly to Plant number three, where Lex is driving about a bit. He spots Jeremy leaping past him and gets out of the car. Then he picks himself up and reminds himself to stop the car first, next time. He hears an eerie disembodied voice, saying "Help me." He's contracted deja vu. It's been going round. Lex wades into the corn, sensibly carrying a torch. He sees a wet dream on a pole.

Lex: Clark?

Clark looks up.

Lex: Aw, jeez.

Funny you should say that, Lex...

Lex gets Clark down off the pole.

Lex: Who did this to you?

Clark: A resurrected scarecrow of eternal youth..

Lex: Oh. Gosh.

The necklace mysteriously disengages from Clark's neck. Clark is born again! He grabs his clothes.

Lex: Clark, you need to see a doctor.

Clark: Hah! I have no need of doctors now, puny human! Now, I must go to save more of your kind.

He rushes off, heroically.

Lex (yelling): At least, let me give you a ride! (sees Clark is gone) Huh. Waste of a double entendre.

His flashlight droops (cough), illuminating the necklace on the ground. He picks it up and looks thoughtful, as is his wont.

Cut to the Highstepping, Hip-hopping, Homecoming Dance. Jeremy skulks. Lurking wasn't good enough for the occasion. Inside the school, kids are cutting up the rug. Other kids are dancing. Chloe's dancing and Pete's dancing and Lana's dancing and Whitney's dancing. They dance, dance, dance.

Cut to Jeremy. He doesn't dance. He opens a sprinkler system box instead.

Clark (rather suddenly appearing): You need to stop this, Jeremy. Go tango instead, you'll love it. La la la la derderderder der der (He demonstrates, mentally substituting Lex for Jeremy).

Jeremy shakes Clark off. Clark is grateful. He's still visualising Lex.

Jeremy: I don't know how you got here. Or where you're gonna go. I guess you have your reasons, but I just don't want to know. 'Cause for twelve or so years I've been waiting to fry, Smallville High.

Clark: O-kay. Um... Please don't?

Jeremy: I have to do this, Clark. For the oppressed and weak. For the kicks.

Clark: Look, what happened to you was my fault.

Jeremy: It was? Oh. Why then, I shall electrocute you too.

He tries to do so and gets flung into a car for his trouble.

Clark: Surrender Dorothy. I mean, Jeremy.

Jeremy doesn't. Instead he runs Clark through a wall with a car, the bounder. This busts a pipe, which spews some water, which goes all over superconductor boy.

Fireworks briefly ensue.

Clark: You okay?

Jeremy: Who hell you? Where hell me? Ooh, my aching pancreas...Excuse me sir, am I on fire?

Clark: Me Clark Kent. You in Smallville. You do have a bit of singeing, there, yes.

Jeremy: I wanna go home.

Clark nods. He will make it so.

Cut back to the dance. Lana and Whitney snog like horny puppydogs. It's Clark's turn to lurk in the shadows. The grubby mac has mysteriously returned.

Cut to Clark in parking lot. He sees JockTrucks. Mmm.

Seven minutes later he is still attempting to stack them without crushing them, or him, or the sidewalk. Giving up, he just flips the trucks onto their backs and leaves them there, like a row of angry giant turtles.

Cut to Clark in the loft, looking at the sky, for once, through his telescope.

Jonathon: Your grandpappy gave me that telescope. Well, not your real grandpappy obviously. You're adopted and also

          inhuman.
          Soooo, you okay?

Clark: Can I answer that in about five years?

Jonathon: Gee, son I knew you were a little behind in school but...

Clark: Dad. Sheesh.

Jonathon mosies on down the stairs.

Lana appears, all purty and dressed up.

Lana: I didn't see you tonight, Clark.

Clark: What are you doing here?

Lex: She's not really here, Clark. You're hallucinating.

Lex peels a banana very, very slowly and eats it. He licks a smidgen of pulp from his lip.

Clark: Guh.

Lana (annoyed): Huh. Well, he's not real either.(vanishes)

Clark: Meh. Nobody's perfect.

A horn honks and Lex vanishes too.
Clark looks out and sees Lana waving at the car which just dropped her off.

Clark: Thanks a bunch, Lana.

Lana waves her head around vaguely for a bit. She smiles and goes inside, imaginary thwarting accomplished.

The End.