going on a date later that evening. Clark nodded along politely as he ged into his grey exercise uniform (careful not to expose his supersuit underh of course).

“Guess I’ll see you and Chad and everybody else around”, Clark said, half a foot around out the door. Randy finally got the hint, and replied, “Sure thing man! Don’t expect seeing Chad around though - apparently he got injured from training and is resting at home!”

For the hour, Clark absent-mindedly stared into the refle of aying - theied - gym. Deg to call it a day, he got off the treadmill.

“Help!”, Clark heard. He dismissed it as a sign of his brain begging for something a little more stimulating, but then he heard it again. It was a quiet shout - too soft to be heard by a human’s ear, but just loud enough for the Kryptonian to make out approximately where it was ing from.

“Help!”

Clark’s ears prickled. He rushed out into the lobby, then down another corridor. The door to a janitor’s storeroom was ajar. He ope, and there he was, Landon, face down, pants down. Lines of purple on Landon’s red uniform all led to the receptionist’s shrivelled behind.

“Parasite!”, Clark angrily thought, his fits tightening.

“Clark?!”

Clark turo see Randy, shaking and out of breath.