Duck, Duck, Goose

For paperbkryter and pettehduck.

Because, yes.

(And by no means is this good. But I just got a wild hair.)

***

It was amazing the amount of information that could be found in the caves. Clark had been going there about once a week for months (well, except for that time he was in Metropolis), and he was only beginning to scratch the surface. Not only were there tales of Jor-El's time in Smallville, there was history, vast amounts of it. Some of it was easy to decipher. After all, thanks to one nice jolt he could read modern Kryptonian. But some of it was in what he could only guess was an ancient Kryptonian dialect. The symbols were readable, but sometimes the message was hard to interpret.

Sometimes the message was really hard to interpret. He'd been working on one particular portion that he had found in a back corner for three weeks. Some of the words were familiar, easy to understand. There were a few words though that he just didn't get, not even with the added benefit of being able to read Kryptonian. The whole text dealt with descriptions of the average Kryptonian. And as far as he could tell, the confusing portions were measurements.

Too bad there was no way to download a Kryptonian math tutorial into his brain along with that Kryptonian dictionary he got.

Clark massaged his temples in frustration. He'd been working on the calculation for average Kryptonian height all day, and he was pretty sure he almost had it, but something wasn't adding up. If his calculations were right, and those symbols meant the average height was 6'2", then the symbols for arm span, waist, chest, all of those measurements would be right in comparison to him. After all, he was 6'4", so he'd be slightly bigger than the average.

But this last one...

If I'm reading this right...18 inches is average?

He stared in befuddlement at his math, double and triple checked it...and came to the conclusion that in fact, his math was right, no doubt about it.

Holy crap.

***

Dinner had been a somber affair. Clark was obviously brooding about something, and Jonathan wouldn't have been surprised if it had something to do with a certain brunette. Come to think of it, pretty much most of Clark's brooding had to do with a certain brunette. Yes, there was the odd morose moment when a new ability kicked in, but otherwise, Clark's bad moods could almost always be traced back to Lana. Might be time to talk to Martha about encouraging Clark to find a girl that made him happy, because obviously it wasn't going to happen with Lana.

Just then Clark shuffled into the barn where Jonathan had been working on the tractor. The woebegone look on his face would rival a bassett hound's and nearly caused Jonathan to burst out laughing. Sometimes teenagers could be overly melodramatic, and something told him this was one of those times.

"Clark, is something the matter?"

Clark sighed and looked everywhere but at him, but remained silent.

"Son, I can't help you if you won't tell me."

Jonathan bit his lip when Clark took a deep breath, shoved his hands in his pockets then yanked them out as if they'd been snake bit.

"Well, I was down in the caves again and...okay, you're not going to believe this, and I can't believe I'm telling you this but...I'm kind of...small for my people."

"Small?" Jonathan asked in disbelief.

"You know, small."

The emphasis Clark was placing on the word obviously meant something, but hell if he could tell what.

"Son, you're 6'4". What were they, giants?"

Clark heaved a sigh and gave him that look that teenagers the world over had perfected - the one they gave parents that just didn't get it.

"No, I don't mean my height dad."

Then what else could he...

"Oh. Oh!"

Shocked didn't even begin to describe what he was feeling right then. Surprised, shocked, mildly freaked out.

"Clark, I don't think I can help you with this one."

***

June 14, 2018: Clark Kent's Wedding Night

She couldn't breath. The air was having trouble entering her lungs and...oh my god.

"Whoa. Clark. That's...whoa."

He looked momentarily confused.

"What?"

Lois took a deep breath. He's a virgin. He's a virgin. Must remember.

"I don't know how to put this. Um, I'm not sure that's going to fit. Cause...whoa."

Sudden realization dawned on his face and he blushed a becoming shade of magenta.

"Yeah, well, be glad."

She raised an eyebrow in response.

"Why?"

"For a Kryptonian...I'm kind of small."

Her draw dropped. Literally. Mouth agape, bug eyes, the works. Then she snapped her mouth shut lest he get any ideas.

"Lois?"

"You're telling me this is small?" she exclaimed, gesturing toward the apendage in question.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"For a Kryptonian?"

He nodded again. "Yeah."

He really had to stop nodding. The shaking...

"And you know this how?"

"See, there's this cave in Smallville, with these Kryptonian writings..."

She stared at him in disbelief. This is what you got for marrying an alien - pillow talk about cave writing and monster c...

"So what, there's a measuring device on the wall that tells you how you stack up? And I thought Earth guys were obsessive about size."

He glared at her before rolling off the bed and to his feet. He tossed his next words over his shoulder as his really cute butt moved away from her.

"Just for that, you don't get to play with any of my toys."

"Meanie! Now get back here!"

###

Quiet

You guys are quiet today. What's up with that? Huh? *poke*

***

I'm writing more fic. I'm in a mood. I just ate large amounts of pizza. Methinks my hormones have freaked out.

The fic has porn as an impetus. I'm only a few paragraphs in, and I like the flow already. When the flow works, the story works, even without a cohesive point (well, beyond Chloe mocking Clark and Pete - does that count as cohesive).

I have lost 4 pounds in the last two weeks due to weirdness in my eating habits. I suddenly had no urge for food (today excluded). There have been some days where I've gone to bed not having eaten dinner, because my body just wasn't hungry. It's weird. I've spent the last year or two being hungry at meal times. With cravings even. And then Bam! no cravings. Hunger usually only at mid-day. It's bizarre. Although I did crave pizza today, but I couldn't eat as much as I usually do. I'm telling you, hormones.

Either that or my hair is making me lose my appetite. Speaking of my hair, I will be dying it again in the next few days. It's been this weird light orange/auburn color now for two weeks (I was giving it time to recover before dying again). I had sort of gotten used to it and thought I'd live it out a bit longer. The statement about my hair yesterday sort of sealed this color's doom though.

My hair isn't THIS orange, but...okay, this is very close to my hair. It's not a good idea to find yourself being compared in appearance to a sci-fi character when visually, they were memorable for their unusual appearance.

Just call me Milla folks.

Beware

I have hit an extreme level of evil. There is no evil greater than mine. You shall all bow before me and revel in my evilness.

Seriously, just you wait. Give me an hour and you'll all be quaking in your boots.

*mysterious grin*

Even the WB is clueless.

Inside Smallville just showed up in my inbox. What's the synopsis of tonight's ep?

Wednesday, Sam gets himself into trouble with thugs, putting Clark in a tough position. Meanwhile, Jonathan realizes how serious the deal he made with Jor-El may be...

Even the WB has no clue who one of the actors on their own show is. Yo, WB. Sam is the actor. Pete is the character. My. God.

I told you I was evil.

*smirk* Did you all doubt my evilness? Well, I'm here at the moment to share my proof...the evidence of said evilness.

Beware that evilness comes with hefty doses of cheese on top.

And the first two paragraphs will let you know what you're in for and give you warning about whether or not to run for your life. *eg*

***

( Beware the evil that resides within, for it is all-cosumiing. )

Because I'm feeling jaunty

I know not many people are going to even click on that evil little cut tag in my last post (because really, it is evil), but I thought I'd just inform of what it is for those that are curious.

NASCAR slash

Yes, I fully expect to go to a special southern hell for that. I got a wild hair. I couldn't help it. The urge to just have a hell of a lot of fun was there. Funny thing is, aside from Junior, I rarely pay attention to driver interviews before or after races. And Junior just isn't slashable. So I had to make up personalities for the two drivers I used.

It's bad. It really is. But let me tell you, I haven't laughed so hard in I don't know how long. I *cried* I was laughing so hard while I wrote it. So for the NASCAR fans, don't try to take it seriously, just sit back and laugh and read.

Oh, and I fully blame the fact that I wrote it on Jimmie Johnson, who has been staring at me whilst shaving from my computer desktop for the last day or so. He's too pretty to not slash.

GIP

I'm playing in Photoshop at work (while printing something), and I've gone a bit nuts.




For the uninitiated, the first one *drool* is Jimmie Johnson. The second is Michael Waltrip. The third (NASCAR Slash) is Kevin Harvick and Jimmie Johnson. The fourth is the number one asshat himself, Ryan Newman.