Well, you’ve really done it this time. Couldn’t just keep it in your pants, could you? No, you just had to go and get it on with Lois Lane, top reporter at the Daily Planet, actress, novelist, oh, and let’s not forget, wife of a guy who can punch asteroids and shoot lasers out of his eyes.
Look, man, I get it. You were on a cold streak for six months after that weird breakup with Catwoman, and the fact that you couldn’t walk past the pet store without getting aroused wasn’t helping. A guy gets lonely; I know! But there are approximately four billion women on the planet, and that’s not even counting all the alternate Earths and crash-landed alien chicks around here.
But no, you had to go after Lois Lane, Superman’s number-one squeeze, whom he has basically been stalking for, what, like 80 years now? Great going there, genius. Yeah, I know, you were super stealthy about it — right up until the point where you remembered the guy you were cuckolding has X-ray vision. Seems like the kind of thing you should have been considering on the first date, huh?
Let’s be honest: Your usual approach of laying low for a couple of weeks, then stealthily sliding out of town, isn’t going to work this time. When Superman is looking to kick the crap out of you, kicking back in Mom’s basement and “riding it out” just isn’t going to cut it.
Oh, what’s that? Go to the cops, you say? Just to get this straight, we’re talking about the Metropolis City Police, right? The same guys whose lives Superman saves on pretty much a daily basis? Hmm, yeah, I’ll bet they’ll be super pumped to help you. I can’t even imagine how that one might go wrong.
See, here’s the thing: Superman just so happens to be America’s golden boy, which means that, by ticking him off, you’ve managed to upset everyone in the country. Who do you think is going to be willing to side with you against the guy who single-handedly stopped Brainiac from stealing Wisconsin? What kind of lawyer is going to challenge the “I Am Freaking Superman” defense at the trial for your murder? Sorry, pal, you’re in this one alone.
I guess you could try asking Lois for help, but let’s be real here: She’s probably not going to want to talk to you after you told Superman that she used her — and I’m using your words here — “evil woman magic” to force you into her bed. I honestly don’t know why you keep thinking that story will work.
Your best bet here is to appeal to Superman’s better nature. The guy is a superhero, after all — he’s expected to have some kind of moral code. If you’re really lucky, he’ll only break most of the bones in your body, as opposed to all of them.
And if that doesn’t cut it, throw some Kryptonite and run. It worked for Batman; it’ll work for you too.
Ryan McAndrews is a junior studying journalism and a columnist for The Post. What would you do if you slept with a superhero’s wife? Let him know at rm287608@ohiou.edu.
