The Curse of the Were-Cow	 The Curse of the Were-Cow

 by mobiusklein

 

 

  

 Lex put in the winning bid for the item posted on the online auction
site. Yes, he thought, I thought I'd never see another one of those ever
again. He picked up the phone. "Yes, it's me. I've got a project I want
you to work on . . ."  Two months later, there was a full moon in the sky.
It was midnight and the man felt compelled to walk outside into the open
field. He felt the sudden urge to take off his clothes and run away from
the fences that confined him. Fur sprouted all over his body and he felt
his body twisting and transforming into something massive, strong and
wild. He finally let out the cry that was in his heart. 

 "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he bellowed before he galloped off.  A month later
at the Talon. 

 "Gosh darn it," said Jim Bob before taking a sip of his mocha soy milk
chai. "Somebody's stupid bull went into my silo and ate some of my grain."


 Earl was drinking his organic shade-grown fair-trade cup of coffee. "I
saw it eating my hay. Something wasn't right about that cow. Something
just wasn't right. Never seen a cow run around on its hind legs. It was
nothing like any of the cows I've ever seen around these parts." He turned
to the man walking into the coffee shop. "Jonathan, any problems with the
mystery cow?" 

 "I haven't seen it," he said before he ordered a cup of coffee and a
slice of marbled pound cake. "But a part of one of my fences was broken." 

 "I say we shoot that critter," said Ed as he sipped his mint mocha frappe
with whip cream. "I caught it trying to mount one of my cows!" 

 Chloe's ears perked up at the talk of a possible mutant cow. It had been
a slow month for news. Nobody had mutated and decided to stalk Lana. Lex
hadn't been attacked by an insane woman in ages. As for Clark, he was in
his Fortress of Solitude, reading a book on how to be on top in a
relationship. Even the `normal' news was slow except for the occasional
drunken hooliganism and cow-tipping that was par for the course in this
area.  I can't believe you talked me into doing this!" said Clark as he
and Chloe were hiding out in the bushes, waiting for the cow to come and
eat a big pile of hay in the middle of a field. 

 "Come on, you had nothing else to do," said Chloe. "Besides, it might
attack your farm eventually so . . . you might as well get it before it
eats up your father's crop." 

 "Does Mr. Cash know you're here?" 

 Chloe rolled her eyes. "I showed Ray that according to the pattern of
attacks, his farm was likely to be attacked next so I told him that we
might be able to get some pictures of it, maybe find out where it came
from and shoo it away." She opened her bag and pulled out a camera. "Now,
we wait." 

 After a half an hour of chatting about school and other cases, they heard
a "MOOOOOOOOOOO!" in the distance. A minute later, a cow that looked more
like something from the Farside than a regular cow came running out of the
nearby forest and began eating the hay. Chloe took a few pictures. "OK,"
said Chloe. "We need to scare the cow away before he eats the entire
thing." She pushed a button on a remote control that activated the large
flashbulbs she had put on a nearby fence post. The flashbulbs going off
startled the rather monstrous cow and it ran away. Chloe turned to Clark
and said, "Well, run after it!" 

 Clark pouted but did so. Amazingly enough, the cow was incredibly fast as
if powered by Kryptonite and trotted effortlessly through the beautiful
mountains and valleys of Kansas. After a few hours, it made its way back
to a familiar farm and went into its barn. Clark went into the barn only
to find the cow shaking and shrinking . . . into his dad. 

 "Ah, crap," said Clark.  

 "Your dad is the cow?"said Chloe as she came by the next morning and
visited him in Clark's loft. "Have you told him?" 

 "How could I? After he went back to being a human, he stumbled into the
house without his clothes as if he was sleepwalking. I asked him how his
sleep was last night and he told me it was really refreshing. I honestly
don't think he knows he's doing this." 

 "Doesn't your mom notice his periodic absences?" 

 Clark shook his head. "That's the odd part. A couple nights ago, they got
into a big argument and he ended up sleeping on the couch. In fact, it
happened the month before. I think there's a pattern!" 

 "Hmm . . ." said Chloe. "I went to the trouble of plotting the thefts by
time as well and they always occur during a full moon. It's like he's a
werewolf except he's a cow." 

 "Oh, man, does this mean my dad's a freak?" said Clark. 

 "Mmmm . . . it could be magic . . ." said Chloe. "Or . . . a Luthorcorp
experiment gone wrong. Or maybe it's a weird Kryptonian thing? It's hard
to tell around here."  

 As Lana was no longer magical and denied making Jonathan a were-cow in a
most vehement fashion and Clark wasn't inclined to talk to his insane
biological father, the only option, really, was to talk to Lex and ask
questions. Considering this was about a were-cow and there was no real
proof connecting Luthercorp to it, Clark decided to not to front major
attitude. Still, while he didn't want Lex to have any connection with it,
there was a higher chance of a cure if he was. 

 After Clark went into the office and explained the situation, Lex said,
"Your dad. A were-cow?" 

 "Yes." 

 "A were-cow . . ." It was taking all his Lexian cool not to guffaw about
this peculiarly pleasing disaster. 

 "Yes." 

 "When did this start?" 

 "There were incidents a month ago and one last night. Why?" 

 Lex opened his laptop and clicked through his calendar. "Didn't your
father deliver groceries a while back?" I remember this because I made
sure I wasn't in my office that day, he thought. 

 "Delivery . . . I went to a journalism conference with Chloe a while back
. . . Why?"  Three Months Ago 

 Jonathan wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm as he
walked into the Luthor manor's kitchen in the back. It was a hot Kansas
summer day and the air condition in the truck wasn't working . . . again.
Making the rounds of deliveries instead of Clark was the rare reminder of
how much work his son really did around the farm. He put down his box of
vegetables. 

 It was then that he noticed a large metal bowl sitting in an ice bath,
full of a golden fizzy liquid that had the most wonderful smell that made
him salivate. He noticed a little sign that said, "Don't Touch, an
Experiment, Not Done Yet." He was tired, sweaty, hot and thirsty so he
poured himself a very small shot glass of the liquid and drank it down. It
was the most satisfying thing he had ever drank. He was about to scoop a
little bit more into the glass when . . . 

 "What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you know how many days I
spent making that? Do you?" said the cook, holding a rolling pin. 

 "I'm Mr. Kent. I'm here to deliver the vegetables. I'm sorry it just . .
." 

 "Shoo!"  

 After waiting for night to fall, Lex drove Clark around in his Porsche, a
van from the Cadmus Labs a block behind them. "OK, so one of my
experiments has gone horribly, horribly wrong, Clark." Despite the fact
that Clark's father was affected, he could barely keep his mouth from
twitching into a smile. 

 "It's NOT funny, Lex! Because of that spell book you bought on ebay, my
dad has turned into a were-cow. Whenever there's a full moon, he turns
into a cow that's been raiding the other farms of their hay and grain!" 

 "Well, at least he's feeding himself." 

 "Be serious!" 

 "You know, your father brought this on himself." 

 "My dad thought it was a bowl of punch." 

 "It doesn't excuse himself from helping himself when it's clearly labeled
off-limits." 

 "Can't we just explain what's going on to him?" 

 "No, we have to get him in his cow form. If the book doesn't have a
reversal potion, we may have to do it the scientific way and I need all
the data I can get about his altered state. Besides, number one, he
doesn't believe he's the were-cow and I doubt he would, even with a ton of
proof. Number two, he's not going to volunteer to the tender ministrations
of my scientists. Number three . . ." 

 "Why did you make a were-cow potion in the first place?" 

 "It's not really a were-cow potion. It's . . ." 

 Clark gasped and pointed off to one side. "There he is!" 

 Lex put on the brakes and shot a few tranquilizer darts into the
were-cow. The beast mooed before falling over. 

 "Now what?" said Clark. 

 "To the lab, of course." 

 Clark looked worried . . . or something.  The cow was standing
unconscious in the lab, sleeping. Various scientists took samples and
readings from that animal as Lex and Clark looked on from behind
bullet-proof glass. 

 Lex picked up his cell phone. "So, cook . . . Have you found any
references to were-cow in the book?" 

 "Well, there are a few ways to defeat one. Shoot with a silver bullet,
take a silver sword and decap . . ." 

 "Are there any methods that won't result in the cow's death?" 

 "There are a few recipes that look promising but I have to read them
through . . . And the ingredients look hard to find." 

 "Keep reading." 

 "What do we do now, Lex? If he keeps running around like this, he's going
to end up being barbecue." 

 "I guess . . . that would be a shame." 

 "Lex, why did you make a were-cow potion in the first place?" 

 Lex looked sad. "It's not a were-cow potion. It wasn't done yet. It was .
. ." 

 "Was . . ." prompted Clark. 

 "Mr. Luthor!" said a scientist. 

 "Yes?" 

 "I've got an idea that's sure to work . . . in theory." 

 "OK, go on." 

 "Since cow and the man's particles exist in slightly different phases of
existence, if we were to stick the were-cow in a cyclotron, eventually the
particles should separate once we get them close to light-speed, and
giving us one cow and one man." 

 Clark frowned. "Won't that kill them?" 

 The scientist thought for a second. "Well, once separated, we'll jettison
the cow and hopefully slow the man down enough for safe retrieval . . ." 

 "Ughhh, no," said Clark. 

 Another scientist said, "How about we break down the were-cow into its
requisite particles, calculate the mathematics involved in the form of
Jonathan Kent and one cow, and structure the particles into those two
forms, it could work." 

 "Won't that take an enormous amount of energy?" said Lex. 

 "Well, if we could use borrow the same amount of energy that Metropolis
uses in a month, I think it might just suffice . . ." 

 "Sorry, even that's a bit too . . ." Lex shook his head. 

 The scientists sadly shuffled back to the sleeping quasi-monster and
poked at it with sensors. 

 Lex sighed. This batch of scientists are the worst ones yet, he thought.
His cell phone rang. "Oh, you found the cure? No . . . No . . . Keep read
. . . You've reached the end of the book. You sure that's it? Fine . . . I
shouldn't be surprised anymore. Yes, go to the cellar, get the bottle and
come to the lab." Lex clicked off the phone. His shoulders slumped and his
very expression radiated resigned defeat. 

 "What's wrong, Lex?" said Clark. 

 "The cook found the cure." 

 "Then why are you so disappointed?" 

 "It's the project I've been working on for the past three months, the one
that's actually ready to drink tomorrow. It's the completed experiment." 

 "What was it you were trying to make?" 

 A wistful smile crossed his face. "Sometimes it's hard to be a good
person . . . so I figured if I was someone else, it would be easier." 

 "Gee, Lex, I don't think being a were-cow would make being a good person
easier." 

 Lex snapped, "I told you that it wasn't a were-cow potion." 

 "Then what does it do!" 

 "In its finished form, it makes you who you want to be, no matter how
outrageous that wish is. You can be buffer, stronger, taller, anything . .
." 

 "But who could you want to be . . ." said Clark before he remembered who
Lex's childhood idol was. "No." 

 "Yes." 

 "No, way. You WANT to be some guy who flies around in spandex, can throw
a car down the street, flies and says campy lines about human potential." 

 Lex shrugged. "Is it so hard to believe?" 

 "You want to be Warrior Angel?" 

 "I don't expect you to understand." 

 "I don't understand because it would mean replacing you with someone I
don't give a damn about. It would be just like replacing my dad with a
cow." Clark sighed and touched his forehead to Lex's while putting his
hands on Lex's shoulders. 

 "Sure, you wouldn't want someone whose first impulse is to say and do the
right thing?" 

 "I think it'd be kinda boring." 

 "So, you're not interested in sex while flying?" 

 "Well . . . OK, that sounds interesting but I think it should be with
someone I want to . . ." Clark leaned forward and they kissed. 

 One of the scientists slipped another a twenty after cursing quietly.
Daniel had bet Lurleen that those two weren't involved and . . . had lost.


 "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" said the suddenly awake and angry cow straining
against its bonds, which startled the scientists. The cow jumped forward
and bonked its head against the transparent barrier. 

 Startled, Clark and Lex stopped making out in a very inappropriate place.
Lex yelled, "Hit him with another dart." 

 Another dart was shot into the cow, sedating it and preventing it from
further bonking its head against the unbreakable barrier and giving itself
brain damage. 

 "OK, let's get the cow back on the truck and get it back to the farm
before sunrise," said Lex. 

 "But we're not done yet," protested Lurleen. 

 "Now!" said Lex.  Jonathan woke up with a slight headache and queasiness
from a nightmare where he was shackled while forced to watch his son make
out with that damn friend of his, Lex Luthor. He went to the kitchen,
absently rubbing the front of his head to get a cup of coffee and a few
aspirin from one of the cabinets when Clark offered him something else to
drink to take away the pain. Clark had insisted that he try an old folk
remedy that worked like magic. Grumpily, Jonathan agreed and stopped
complaining when he found it to be delicious with an amber color,
playfully fizzy and sweet yet crisp with floral notes. The headache and
queasiness left immediately and he felt like a new man. 

 After Clark left to talk to Chloe, presumably about the were-cow, Martha
came down the stairs, quite surprised to be the last one down. She took a
look at the worn shirt Jonathan was wearing and told him to take it off.
Once he did so, Martha gasped at the incredibly bulging muscles and said,
"Jonathan Kent, are you taking steroids?" 

 The End   
 If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to mobiusklein

 Also, why not join  Level Three, the Smallville all-fic list?
 
 Back

 Level Three Records Room