“Yes sir, but I’m w on this big pie prisons. Perhaps you could send -” "Kent, just get your flat ass down to the gym. "Kent meekly left Mr White’s offid duly slid his “flat” ass down to Queensland Park.

“Hey man, wele! Here at Pump & Flex, we have the trainers, programmes and facilities available to

"Kent, you look like you do with a work out”, greeted Mr White, “As you know, more than half a dozen gym rats have been sucked dry by some sort of vampire over the past three weeks, and the police are as close to solving the case as they are to catg a real vampire! So I’m sending you down to this fancy-ass gym near Metropolis Uy to see if you sniff out anything. You following, Kent?”

本章尚未读完,请击一页继续阅读---->>>

reating a Joint-Up Prison and Probation Service - seems like fasating stuff, Kent”, said Lois as she leaned against Clark’s desk. Just as Clark opened his mouth with a e-back, a moustached, middle-aged man shouted “Kent!” across the sea of cubicles. After clumsily knog down several piles of paper, a few pencil bottles and colliding face-first into a tutting tea lady, Clark finally reached the door with the brass sign reading “Perry White, Editor-in-Chief”.

“PUMP & FLEX”, glowed a bright neon sign right opposite the street from Metropolis Uy. To the Kansas farm boy staring at the red and purple sign, Pump & Flex sounded more like a title for a mediocre 80s gay porn film than a gym (not that our Mr Smallville was familiar with titles of mediocre 80s gay porn).

Taking a deep breath, Clark stepped into the gym. His nose slightly wri the sharp spicy mixture of sweat, axe body spray aosterone.