Lionel the Vinyl
Disclaimer: i disclaim?
A/N: the continuing and completely pointless saga if 'people who turn into things that sound like thier names.'
Lionel Luthor was dying, not a particularly uncommon occurrence; he was forced to admit. It was for this reason, perhaps, that instead of spending his final days fruitlessly attempting to patch things up with his son, atoning for his crimes, finding religion or doing anything which could have been construed as worthwhile, he decided to drink Scotch and listen to an operatic record. This too was not particularly rare; he'd done on a regular basis for many years, in fact aside from committing sinister experiments, having issues with his family dredged up and faking blindness, it was all he'd done in years. Oh, and trying to crack the mystery of the caves, but he didn't want to think about that.
He supposed he should be scared; he was dying after all, but he'd done that before. He also supposed he should tell Lex, but he didn't want to give him extra time to plan the party he knew he'd throw once his father was dead. He could try searching for a cure-he'd done that before too, successfully he might add, although he wasn't sure how. It was probably something to do with Clark Kent; everything seemed to be it was almost as if he were just a bit part in a show about Clark. That of course was ridiculous.
Settling down as the record finished, he began to think about his life and primarily all the things that had tried to kill him: liver disease, accidents, meteor showers, his son and now a tumour. It was almost as if the world was against him; that it wanted him gone; he guessed he couldn't blame it, he'd done so many wrong things in his life and he had so many regrets. Unfortunately, at least for the sake of Lionel's soul, his wrong deeds weren't the things he regretted. He had no qualms about killing his parents, polluting the planet, or ruining the lives of so many innocent people. He did feel a little bad about his relationship with his son, but he'd learned to live with that. The things he regretted most were: having to cut off his hair, not kidnapping Martha Kent and being far too old to mope pathetically about an unrequited love for Lana Lang.
Downing the rest of his Scotch, he laughed a cruel laugh- at least the world wouldn't forget him in a hurry. No one could say he hadn't lived a full and interesting life; ironically the most interesting parts took place in the middle of nowhere town, Smallville. That town was holding a secret, an important secret but one that, he feared, it would keep. The truth was buried so deep no one would figure it out; especially not an aging man with very little time left. A moment later he was struck by a stroke of genius as he realised what that town was hiding.
"Clark Kent is an alien!" he cried aloud, to no one in particular. "It's so obvious! Why didn't I notice it before?"
Reaching for his phone to call his son, this he knew would patch up their relationship and allow him to die slightly happier; he might even have time to kidnap Martha Kent, something unusual and unexpected, at least to Lionel, happened: he turned into a record.
The mysterious disappearance of Lionel Luthor puzzled the world: even the inquisitive mind of Chloe Sullivan, (or rather Lana Lang as she'd changed her name to since her mysterious disappearance), couldn't solve this mystery. Lex Luthor poured a lot of money into investigating his father's disappearance, but with the only clues being an empty Scotch glass and two copies of the same vinyl record, Lionel's favourite, to go on, it remained unsolved.
Lex went on to become a man his father could be proud of: a manipulative, evil, money driven maniac, who incidentally did at one point kidnap Martha Kent. He also kept the records he found at his fathers, and, although he broke one only a month after he had it, the other he listened to for many years. As time went on, and Lex sunk deeper and deeper into darkness, his nemesis Superman inevitable appeared on the scene. Driven by a powerful need to 'unmask' the hero's secret identity and destroy him, the billionaire tried many things, all to no avail; until one day after having had too much Scotch, he accidentally put one of his records on backwards, and was very interested in what it played.
Jumping up in surprise and spilling his drink, he cried; "Clark Kent is an Alien?"