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STEEL IS THE DEAL

The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMANStories of the Silver Age (Part Six)

Yeah, yeah. It's another friggin' Lex Luthor story.

Lookit is it Unca Cheeks' blamed fault if the big, bald beau brummel was the featured player in more than his fair share of Really WayCool SUPERMAN stories...?

"Clark Kent's Brother!" [SUPERMAN #175; February, 1965; author not listed; Curt Swan, artist] opens up with a shot of the teenaged Superboy answering an emergency summons from Smallville's Chief of Police; observed (from various vantage points) by girlfriend Lana Lang; bestest buddy Pete Ross; and adolescent arch-foe Lex Luthor.

"There he goes," the hateful high schooler sneers, as the Boy of Steel zooms off into the distance. "He doesn't suspect I caused this emergency, for my own reasons."

Said "emergency," as it turns out, is fairly small potatoes, really; harmless, glowing balls of light appearing out of nowhere, and "buzzing" (in turn; over the course of several days) Chief Parker; Pete Ross; and (finally) Lana Lang.

"Oh, Superboy," a grateful Lana gushes, upon the timely arrival of her super-swain. "I might have known you'd save me!"

"These weird force-attacks," a pensive Superboy muses, flying away from the location of the latest manifestation; "... seemed planned to draw me to the scene... and I've got a suspicion why! I'll search Smallville...!"

"Isn't Superboy terrific, Pete?" the lovesick Lana sighs; adolescent bosom heaving impressively. "There'll never be anybody like him!"

"The fact that I tried to save you, too, means nothing!" an aggravated and petulant Pete Ross sulks, by way of response. "You know I worship you, but you can only see that showoff, Superboy!"

"Oh, Pete," Lana scolds him, in turn. "Don't be so jealous! It's childish!"

This, you see, is how we all know we're dealing with one of DC's infamous "Imaginary Stories" of the period the (normally) sexless-to-the-

point-of-chemical-castration Pete Ross has himself a "stiffy."

For someone other than "Ma" Kent, I mean.

"Meanwhile... " (the following caption helpfully provides); "... the Boy of Steel, searching, confirms his suspicion!"

("Yup," Superboy thinks to himself, analyzing the situation with his alien X-Ray Vision. "Definitely a stiffy.")

(Sorry. Sorry. That was just the tar heroin talking, again.)

"An electronic eye, that could watch and record my movements all over Smallville," a grim-visaged Teen of Tomorrow observes. "This is the third 'eye' I've found... and there's only one person here who has the scientific skill to rig these!"

A little more judicious mixing-and-matching of Telescopic and X-Ray Visions, and Superboy's darkest suspicions stand confirmed; as he (and we) are afforded a glimpse of a gleeful Luthor, triangulating various and sundry coordinates on a big ol' map, in the shadowy recesses of his LuthorLair (tm).

"By plotting all Superboy's movements on the screen," the jubilant juvie exults, inwardly; "... I can eventually discover his home... and his secret identity! It looks like he's Clark Kent, as I thought!"

Frantic and heartsick over the (now) all-too-real possibility of Luthor using this newfound knowledge to "strike not only at the Kents, but at all my friends," the resolutely self-sacrificing Krypton Kid quietly packs up his toothbrush and his 'jammies; and skulks away into the night, leaving Smallville... forever.

"Yes, Lana," the Bald-Faced Liar of Steel assures an ashen and tear-

stricken Lana, the following morning: "... I heard that Clark Kent ran away from home, and I'm going after him! I'll find him, no matter how long it takes me!" (Boy... there's a manhunt, huh...?)

"I'm worried," the romance-starved redhead confides to nearby Pete Ross, as the uberteen Up, Up and AWAYs himself the holy heck outta Dodge City. "Somehow... Superboy sounded as though he might be gone a long time!"

"If he never comes back," the jealous Ross seethes, by way of response; "... it'll be fine with me!" (... but that's doubtless just the stiffy talking, really.)

"So, Clark Kent and Superboy are both gone," a smirking Luthor later observes. "I'm almost sure now they're the same person! To make certain, I'll worm my way into the good graces of the Kents... when I'm absolutely sure, I can expose Superboy, if he ever returns!"

"I was sorry to hear of Clark's running away," a cherubic-seeming Luthor later soothes the downcast and distraught "Pa" Kent; "... but I need work, and [Pick One] -- ":

A.) "... I thought maybe I could take his place in the store!"

B.) "... I thought maybe you might actually be willing to give serious consideration to hiring a terrifyingly brilliant teenaged mass murderer with a known criminal record greater than the entire 'Death Row' populations of San Quentin and Alcatraz... combined."

C.) "... I thought maybe I could take his place in taking... ummmm... 'special care' of the livestock, on the family farm. Particularly that one heifer. The one he always called 'Sexy Sadie.' "

D.) [whipping out a snub-nosed revolver] "... I thought maybe you could hand over that nice, fat shopkeeper's wallet of yours. And make it snappy, Pops."

Utilizing his incredible hyper-intellect, the teenaged Luthor quickly super-automates the rustic, homespun family store into something straight out of a re-run of THE JETSONS; earning both the gratitude and (more importantly) the unquestioning trust of the bereaved Kent family.

"Yes, Lex," a sweetly-smiling "Ma" Kent later informs the overjoyed (if incredulous) youth; "... we want to adopt you... you'll always be just like our own son!"

[UNCA CHEEKS' ASIDE waaaaaiiiiiiit just a ding-dong minute, here...

[... does the adolescent Lex Luthor not already have parents -- or, at the very least, an adult relative or guardian -- with whom he resides, between lengthy reform school stretches? What... you mean state and federal law enforcement authorities blithely allow The Greatest Criminal Genius On the Planet (forget the fact that he's still a teenager, f'chrissakes; you know he's Number One With a Bullet on that particular meta-fictive Top Ten) to live alone and UNSUPERVISED? No "house arrest"; no electronic leg shackles; no nuthin' -- ?!?]

[... and if he isn't living with any adult(s) then where is he getting the dough-rei-me necessary to live in the FIRST place; much less the gargantuan amounts of moolah requisite to the building of giant metal death robots and orbiting Kryptonite death rays and suchlike? Huh? HUH? How's he doin' alla that, then -- ?!?]

[I'm just sayin', here. That's all.]

"They're so good to me," a soulful and contemplative Luthor ruminates, weeks later; "... and they are my parents, now... I can't go on with this! I won't pry into their secrets... I'll try and be a good son to them...!"

Meanwhile Somewhere Out In the Middle of the Great Arctic Nowhere...

... a lonely and miserable Superboy -- unable to bear the solitude of his self-imposed exile another heartbeat longer -- decides "... screw it. I'm goin' home. For a baloney sandwich."

"Oh, Clark!" an overjoyed "Ma" Kent burbles, as her wayward super-

son comes careening through an open window. "You've come back!"

"But... Luthor overheard you!" a goggle-eyed Teen of Steel exclaims, in astonishment. "What's he doing here?"

"It's all right, Clark," a genial "Pa" Kent soothes. "Lex is our son, too... and you can trust him just like us!" (... and -- even if you can't -- it's a little bit of Too Late now, isn't it...?)

The big, trusting super-sap quickly agrees that -- all things being equal -- having a ruthless and brilliant super-psychotic for a brother might actually be a whole lotta fun, by golly, by jingo. ("I know Ma and Pa would want you to stay... and I want you to stay, too... as my brother!")

"Thanks, Superboy," a grateful and sincere Luthor responds, clasping hands with his (former) sworn blood foe. "From now on, I'll use my scientific talents to help you, as I did before that accident in my lab, when [Pick One] -- ":

A.) "... I lost my hair, and wrongly blamed you!"

B.) "... I lost my virginity, and wrongly blamed you. Like we both hadn't been chugging vodka by the bloody quart, that night. With our pants off."

C.) "... I attempted to create intelligent life, in a beaker... and ended up creating the cast of FELICITY, instead."

D.) "... I wet 'em."

"Isn't it wonderful that Superboy found Clark Kent, and is back now?" a starry-eyed Lana Lang sighs, days later, as she and a sullen Pete Ross observe the familiar blue-and-red figure of the Boy of Steel patroling the skies over Smallville.

"I hoped he'd never come back," the scowling and embittered Ross thinks. "I'll hate him for life... and when I'm grown up, I'll make him wish he'd never taken Lana away from me! Wait and see!"

Those stiffies, boy. Mess you right the hell up, ability-to-deal-with- reality-wise. I could tell you stories.

Well... in any event we jump ahead a few years, in our nutty little narrative, and discover that recent high school grads Clark and Lex Kent are both Metropolis bound; the former as a newly-hired "cub reporter" for THE DAILY PLANET, and the latter as a fledgling "research scientist" for the prestigious (it says here) Metropolis Scientific Foundation!

"It's wonderful, boys," a tearing and sentimental "Ma" Kent sobs before her sons, upon hearing the news. "But... with both of you gone, we're going to be lonely...!"

"Martha," her husband gently consoles her, slipping her one of his famous "home-brewed" sedatives (50% corn mash whiskey; 25% old bong water; 25% the blood of a newborn spring lamb, ritually sacrificed to the dark, noisome Elder Gods whom he so compliantly serves); "... you know I've been planning to sell the store and retire soon... why don't we move to Metropolis, too?"

"We'll do it!" a (now-)beaming "Ma" Kent enthuses. " [...] the Langs moved there last year, and I'm sure that Lana will help me!"

(Boy... how you gonna keep 'em down on the farm, once they've seen Metropolis, huh...?)

"Lana's such a dear girl," the conniving old biddy thinks to herself, smiling. "I've always hoped Clark would marry her... now maybe my wish will come true!" (Mothers, boy. Don't get me started.)

Later -- whilst helping his foster brother move into his brand new Metro digs -- a huffing Superman inquires of one super-scientific frammistat, in particular, that he's been asked to lug about.

"Here you are, Lex!" an all-but-herniated Man of Steel exclaims. "What is this invention you've tinkered on so long, anyway?"

"I'm afraid it's one of my failures," a shame-faced Luthor responds. "I hoped this apparatus would generate force to give me a charge of temporary super-powers, in case Clark ever needed a super-helper! But it has a flaw in its design, and [Pick One] -- ":

A.) "... can't be used."

B.) "... anyway, I'm using it to pirate free cable for myself."

C.) "... it's taught me a hard, bitter lesson never, EVER try to save a buck or two by using parts with the word 'TONKA' stamped on 'em."

D.) "... every time I use the laboratory mice as test subjects, they keep breaking their way free of their metal restraints and gang-raping the cat."

Later still -- after visiting son Clark at his brannd-new place of employment -- noted Smallvillian horndog "Pa" Kent greedily eyes a fresh-faced and nubile Lois Lane thereabouts, and nudges his backwards, backwoods progeny into inviting her to dinner, the following weekend.

"Jonathan," the aged gent's wife scolds him, moments later; "... you know that I asked Lana Lang for this weekend... why did you have to invite that girl reporter?"

"Why, I like Lana," Jonathan Kent grins, reliving the menories of that disreputable incident, years before, involving an eleven-year old Lana; the ol' neighborhood "swimmin' hole"; a hastily-shredded Girl Scouts uniform; and one of "Ma" Kent's old fuzzy bedroom slippers. "... but this Lois Lane is a knockout!"

"Jonathan, you're talking nonsense!" a narrowed-eyed "Ma" snarls, unlimbering her Smallville County Jail "shiv" from her garter and waving it dangerously in his direction. "Lana Lang is the ideal wife for Clark... she's terribly fond of him!"

"Women think they're the best matchmakers," a blood-crazed "Pa" barks, coolly snapping a banana clip into his trusty Uzi and fixing his beloved with a long, meaningful "look." "... but you'll see that it's Lois Clark goes for!"

Well the night of the fateful dinner party finally arrives; and...

... oh, geez. Who invited him...?

"It's great to see you all!" an adult (if still virginal, I'll betcha. Betcha a dollar.) Pete Ross lies, smoothly, upon strolling into the Kent's living room. "I'm... errrr... in business on my own here, and doing fine!"

The accuracy of said self-assessment, however, may well depend upon just how, precisely, one elects to define the word "fine"; as a noticeably green-eyed and smouldering Ross later fixes an oblivious Clark with a glare so blatantly murderous, it practically comes equipped with its own parole officer.

"Lana still can't see me for Superman," the big, whiny wuss ponders, petulantly. "I'll never get anywhere with her while Superman's still around... blast him!"

Slipping into the adjoining lab where the more book-ish and withdrawn Lex sits, tinkering with his various electronic geegaws and gimcracks, the viperous Ross makes note of the fact that said room is packed to the very rafters with weapons and devices "so powerful, you turned them over to Superman for safe-keeping"; an observation destined to auger much, in the days to follow.

A few weeks later a gigantic, flying, Green Kryptonite-studded super-

magnet appears (literally) out of nowhere, over the skies of Metropolis; in an audacious attempt to plunder said city's "Sub-Treasury Building."

While vaingloriously attempting to thwart said machine's machinations the beleaguered Man of Steel is stricken by the lethal Green K radiations; plummets uncontrollably earthward...

... and squashes an unsuspecting Lois Lane like a grape.

That may very well qualify as the single stone weirdest sight ever recorded in any SUPERMAN comic book, really that of an unwitting Man of Steel driving his One, True Love into the pavement like a peculiarly shapely and feminine tent peg.

As it turns out, however Lois is not perished, as a result of her sudden, high-velocity encounter with Clark's high-density super-bootay. She is, however (in the words of one of the emergency medicos on the sccene) "suffering from concussion"; and is promptly whisked away to the nearest hospital emergency room, where -- presumably -- all the docotrs and nurses on duty are just going to laugh themselves bloody sick, once the word gets out.

The (now vanished) super-magnet is " [...] like ancient Kryptonian devices I duplicated, and keep in my Fortress of Solitude," a grimly resolved Superman notes. "I don't think anyone could have found the secret Fortress... but I'd better check, to be sure...!"

Imagine the Big Blue Boyscout's nearly palpable consternation and horror, then, when -- upon his airborne arrival to said sub-zero sub-let -- he discovers the massive, metallic <doors to same rudely torn from their equally heroic hinges; and the tell-tale tracks of some great machine, still fresh in the snow, outside.

"All my duplicates of ancient Kryptonian machines, that could be used for crime" the pole-axed paladin bleakly observes, wandering through the sacked and cavernous expanse of his looted sanctum; "... have been stolen! Some criminal or criminals now have the science of Krypton in their hands!"

"This is the most dangerous criminal plot I've ever faced," a pensive Superman concludes. "In the meantime, I have to make certain that Lois is recovering...!"

Upon her luckless and ill-timed (near-)blundering directly into the hospital room where a dewey-eyed Lois is eagerly accepting a repentant Superman's proposal of marriage a sobbing and heartbroken Lana Lang staggers her lonely, disconsolate way home...

... and directly into the arms of an eager, long-denied and panting Pete Ross (!!).

Their own marriage follows hard on the heels of Lois' and Clark's own more celebrated one; the brief happiness of which is irrevocably shattered, soon afterwards, by Lana's unwitting discovery of just what sort of "business" it is, precisely, by means of which The Ol' Petester has been bringing home the proverbial bacon.

"All right... so you know!" an increasingly scary Ross -- his features contorted in naked, all-consuming rage -- shrieks at the cowering Lana. "I'm a big-shot crook, not a business man!"

(Five bucks says this freckle-faced goober has never moseyed anywhere within five hundred yards of legitimate "big-shot"dom in any busines venture NOT involving the door-to-door peddling of GRIT ["The Nation's Newspaper"]).

"And by fixing a tiny radio transmitter to the invention that Lex Kent was giving to Superman," he continues, crazed spittle a-flying; "... I discovered the location of his Fortress! Now I and my syndicate have weapons that even Superman can't defeat! I always hated him... and now, I'm going to destroy him!"

Locking the sobbing and nigh-hysterical Lana away in what (apparently) passes for durance vile, in the Silver Age DCU -- i.e., their apartment's bedroom -- Ross knocks out and kidnaps Lois<; and spirits her away to a specially devised "death trap site," chockablock with amped-up weaponry of Kryptonian design (and Luthorian construction).

An enraged Superman manages to track down both Lois Lane (bound and gagged) and Pete Ross (Bound For Geekdom); and bursts his way into the latter's tacky little Tomb of Terrors, ready to rrrrrrrrrrRUMBLE.

"Pete Ross!" the Big Dummy of Steel exclaims, upon espying the lay of the situational land, hereabouts. "And I never guessed -- !"

The smirking Ross, by way of response, thumbs a switch on the control panel beside him; and -- just that quickly -- Our Hero finds himself reeling under the irradiated assault of great, heaping gobs of Green Kryptonite.

"I'm going to enjoy watching your end, Superman!" the freckled felon chortles. (... and, boyoboy, but couldn't Unca Cheeks have himself some big fun with a straight line like that one.) "You never knew how much I hated you, because it was you Lana loved... not me! But you know now!"

(... and all of this, mind, is long after he and the beauteous Lana got M-A-R-R-I-E-D, for the luvva COSMOPOLITAN! He... like... HAD her, all right? HelllllOOOOOOOH -- ? Is anybody else out there bloody SEEING this? Is this thing on? Can anybody out there hear me? Hey! HEY! HelllllOOOOOOOH -- ?!?)

Meanwhile (Unca Cheeks just loooooves saying "Meanwhile") a desperate and resourceful Lana manages to summon help -- in the form of the Metropolis Fire Department -- by burning a bunch of bath towels in a wastebasket.

(Kids... remember "Lana Lang" is a highly-trained, professional four-

color comics character, with decades of experience stretching allllllllll the way back to the immortal PERRY WHITE'S HOUSE O' BONDAGE #437. Do. Not. Not. NOT. Attempt. To. Summon. The. Fire. Department. By. Setting. Bath. Towels. On. Fire. Without. An. Adult's. Supervision.)

(Also eat your @#$%ing brussel sprouts, awright? Your mother and I paid good money for those things, f'chrissakes. And have you brushed those teeth, any time lately...?)

Making her trembling way to Casa del Kent, Lana sobs out the gory and relevant details to a flabbergasted Lex; the latter whom promptly (you all pretty much saw this one coming simply pages and pages ago, didn't you?) jumps into the long-abandoned GiveMeSuperPowersNOWalizer; granting himself Powers and Abilities Far, Far Beyond Those Of Ordinary Mortal Men...

... along with a truly wrongwrongWRONG choice in My Very First Super-Hero Costume.

God Bless and Keep the Silver Age of DC Comics.

("I'll borrow one of Clark's spare costumes," The Big Bald Weenie explains, to an onlooking [and sniggering] Lana; "... for I'll have to search swiftly, and air friction would burn up my ordinary clothes." Yeah. Right. Whatever. Now explain why you keep rubbing the red spandex panties all over your face and sighing contentedly. Freak.)

The story reaches its mind-bogglingly ludicrous conclusion (even for a Silver Age SUPERMAN comic) when a vengeful SuperLex -- whilst rescuing the imperiled Lois and Clark -- bounces a "Kryptonian Death Ray" OFF HIS FACE; killing a shrieking Pete Ross instantly, and causing him to disincorporate, scant moments later.

"I never told you," the fast-vanishing SuperLex explains, in a last, desperate attempt to choke out as much waydopey Plot Exposition as humanly possible, in his final moments; "... but the 'defect' in my super-

power charging invention is that the charge is so powerful, it kills the subject soon, by dissolving the cell-binding forces of his body! My cells are evaporating away like dust!"

Okay. So granted, it's not exactly David Mamet, dialogue-wise.

Also granted it's not even SHE'S THE SHERIFF, dialogue-wise.

Still a sexually-crazed Pete Ross.

Lois Lane put into Major League Intensive Care, by reason of Superman's hinder...

... AND Lex Luthor, killing (not-so-)innocent bystanders with his face.

This story is a classic, dammit -- !

Be here next time out, people.

We're gonna be talkin' Superman some more.

More specifically you're gonna get to see what the Kryptonian equivalent of "Truth or Dare" looks like.

It's reeeeeeeeeeaaaaal... different.

"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE ONE

"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE TWO