Flour Jars and Penguins
By Saoirse
Disclaimer:
Not mine, no money, no sue, please.
The Kents were having a pleasant
family dinner, gathered as usual around the kitchen table. The conversation was
easy and flowing, drifting from mundane topics such as the farm's financial status,
to Clark's girl problems, to what, exactly, penguins ate besides fish. No one
was quite sure how that latter topic had come up; Mr. Kent had a vague notion
that it had something to do with the bass he had caught in a nearby stream and
Mrs. Kent had lovingly prepared for their meal. It wasn't always the best idea
to eat anything that originated nearby, what with the possible meteor rock contamination
and all, but they had tested the fish by holding it up next to Clark for several
minutes. Other than the distinct fishy odor it gifted him with until he changed
his clothes, there had been no adverse effects. So they deemed it safe to eat.
Once the fish had been consumed and the conversation had petered out (since it's
hard to talk about penguins for very long, and while Clark's problems with the
opposite sex could fill up hours by themselves the older Kents had put a stop
to it before it ruined their appetites), Mrs. Kent got up from her chair and went
to the oven, pulling out the chocolate cake she had carefully baked. Taking it
back to the table, she carefully cut out three generous slices(after all, Clark was a growing... alien, her husband had worked hard on the farm, and she... well, she worked for a Luther, and that was all the justification she needed for having more chocolate), and they commenced
eating dessert.
Three bites into his slice, Clark felt his teeth crunch
down on something hard. Pulling the object out of his mouth revealed a octagonal
piece of metal approximately two inches in diameter. "Uh, Mom?" he said, questioningly
holding it up. Spit and pieces of chocolate cake still clung to the mysterious
alien artifact. "What's this?"
Mrs. Kent flushed. "Uh..." her brain worked
frantically, trying to come up with an excuse. "Modern jewelry?"
The moral of this story: Don't hide things in the flour jar.
A/N:
Just... don't ask. It's generally safer that way.