Super Late For Dinner

As he passed Perry’s door on his way out of the Daily Planet building, a police officer pushed past Clark Kent and burst into the editor’s office.

“Mr. White, a bomb has been found in a Metropolis subway tunnel. An atomic bomb. We must alert the citizens to leave Metropolis immediately.”

“We can’t do that,” said White. “There’d be a stampede and hundreds would be killed in the chaos.” He turned to Kent in the doorway. “Clark, you’ve always been close to Superman. Do you think you could contact him in a hurry?”

“I’ll try Chief,” Clark replied as he rushed away. Once in his office, he ducked behind a wardrobe, spun around and emerged as Superman. A moment later he was soaring over the city in search of the weapon. His x-ray vision located the bomb in under a minute.

The superhero dove at top speed, blasted through the street and landed beside the deadly device. He lifted it gingerly, then flew up through the pavement. Once high enough above the Earth, he hurled the bomb towards the sun.

Landing in an alley a block from where the explosive was, he spun again, returning to his reporter persona. Then he sped to the site and began asking questions.

An hour later, having filed his story, he finally made it home. It wasn’t until he opened the door and saw his wife's scowl did he realize how late he was.

“Oh Lois. I ruined your special dinner.”

“Sure. Sure. Superman saved Metropolis yet again and you just had to be there. While my chicken got cold.”

“I’m so sorry, darling.”

Lois heaved a forgiving sigh, kissed him and sat him at the table.

“I know. Just don’t make a habit of it.”