Jor-El flies to the City Region of the Playoff Planet. He reaches the Bostonia Quadrant and lands before a small establishment. He opens the wooden door and enters “Cheers”.
Jor-El: Kal-El!
Superman turns his head and
looks at his father. There is a multitude
of beer bottles littered across the bar where the Kryptonian sits. Jor-El’s son lowers his face in shame as his
father sits beside him on a stool.
Jor-El: This is the Universe Bowl, Kal-El! Why do you sit here, drinking when you know
you can’t get drunk!
Superman: I can pretend.
Jor-El: You’re acting like a
baby; not the man you are!
Superman: What is the use?
Jor-El: Son, please, tell me what troubles you.
Superman: I was the one, daddy! I was the one! Now, it is her! It’s her!
Jor-El: I understand, but realize that her role is
one that needed to be filled. She is a
new light on this team. She is a leader,
as are you. There should be no quarrels
between the two of you, only respect.
Superman: I do respect her and what she has done for
this team. I am told she respects me too. I’m just. . . tired. . .
Jor-El: Get up!
Jor-El lifts Superman from his
seat and looks him in the eye.
Jor-El: There is no room for being “tired” at this time,
boy. This is the Universe Bowl! This is our team’s chance to become inscribed
in the book of winners, like the Horsemen, like the Backyardigans, like the Commandoes!
Superman snaps out of his hazy
funk of self pity and smiles at his father.
Superman: Thanks, dad.
Jor-El: My pleasure, son. Now go show them who you are!!!
Superman: Up.
Up. And away!
Superman flies straight through
the roof, punching a whole in the structure.
Jor-El looks at the automaton bartender.
Jor-El: Just put that on the Slaves’ tab.
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2 comments:
You know what to do, Luthor.
What a drunk fool. Ha.
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