Right, this is the result of a challenge by Winnie on the JL animated boards.
You can judge the results for yourself, although I'm not responsible for any brain trauma that may ensue.
***
"Really, Clark," said Lois, over her chocolate-and-banana crepes at Chez Paul, "you're getting so one-dimensional."
Clark frowned. Lois had a nasty habit of launching accusatory statements into the air as if they were mere fact, a habit probably only exacerbated by her job as a reporter. In the same tone that she would call out, "Mr. Mayor, what did you do what all that money you embezzled from the Liberty Park Public Works Project?", Lois would confront him with his perceived failings.
"Now, Lois," he said, smiling suavely, "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." And the fact of the matter was, he really didn't care either. But when Lois got on these kicks, the only way to stop her was to divert her: head off her attention before she had time to build up a head of steam. He thought furiously.
"By the way, Lois," he said, casually, "you never told me--did you manage to get a good quote from Mayor Sheehan today?"
Lois's eyes brightened momentarily. "As a matter of fact, I did--". She broke off, and stared at him, bemused. "Nice try, Clark, but you're not getting off that easily."
Damn, damn, damn, he thought. He looked down, with sorrow, on his uneaten cherry pie. It looked like he would have to be finished for the night. Oh well…at least he could ask for a doggie bag. He sighed, then shoved his plate away.
"All right, Lois, I'll bite. What do you mean?"
Lois shoved her dessert away too, apparently warming to her subject. "Ever since you started with that Justice League, I hardly see you anymore." She put up a hand to ward off the objection that she knew was coming, and continued on. "I'm not complaining, and I know you do spend all the time with me that you can get off. But all you are anymore is Superman, crime-fighter extrodinaire, or Clark Kent, reporter. You just work all the time. I'm starting to miss the regular guy I fell in love with. You don't have time for your old interests or friends anymore, Clark! It's not…"
Here Lois broke off, too emotional to continue. She looked down for a second at her plate, and fiddled with her spoon, making abstracted designs on the china with the remaining chocolate sauce. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Clark. I don't mean to sound angry with you. It's not your fault, I know that…but…"
"No, Lois," he said. "You're right. I was thinking about a vacation anyway. I am getting too overworked, but when I'm here it's hard to say no when people need me. How does next week sound—you, me, and a small tropical island?"
"Do you mean it, Clark?", Lois said. "That would be nice."
"Nice??!" he sputtered, in fake outrage. "Your boyfriend offers to take you to a tropical paradise and all you have to say is nice?"
"Of course not, Clark! I'm thrilled!" She moved around the table and slipped her arms around his neck. "It sounds wonderful." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and stood up, looking at her watch. "Sorry to eat and run, Clark, but I have to dash home to finish that story on Mayor Sheehan. See you tomorrow?"
Before he had a chance to make a response, Lois swept out, like the force of nature she was. A small smile slowly crept across his face. God almighty, but he would enjoy this. He didn't know why he hadn't brought it up sooner himself. He pictured himself on the sand, relaxing, with a cold drink in his hands. He had absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to be. The only thing he had to remember to do was turn himself over every hour to get an even tan.
He pictured Lois in a string bikini on the sand next to him. "Why, Clark," she would say…"Will you help me with my suntan lotion? I can't seem to get my back." Then she would shiver as he would start to put it on. "Oh, Clark…this lotion is so cold. Do you think you could massage it in for me?"
His reverie, however, was cut short by the sudden appearance of the waiter. "Monsieur, le cheque," he murmured.
Damn it, but Lois had left him to pay again!
***
"Why, Flash…", she started, "When you're like this, I think I find you much more attractive." Her voice had dropped to a husky contralto that would've sounded more at home in a nightclub. "It could be the start of a beautiful new relationship." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. Her deadpan expression and look of vapidity only added to the overall effect.
He scowled, and wrote painstakingly on his legal pad, "YOU'RE…NOT…FUNNY…HAWKGIRL."
She broke up into peals of laughter that had her clutching her sides. "Serves you right for cheering so loudly at that football game."
"I'LL…GET…YOU…BACK…FOR…THIS," he laboriously scrawled.
"How?", she asked. "By giving me lead poisoning from your killer pencil? Making me blind from having to read your handwriting? Uh-huh."
Still chuckling over his predicament, she got up to leave, but threw over her shoulder on the way out, "Be sure to be early to Superman's meeting at 1000. I don't want us all to die of old age before you can write out your excuse for being late."
Flash's eyes narrowed. She thought it was funny not being able to speak, huh? To add insult to injury, his team had ended up losing the game too. Geez, but HG could be a royal bitch when she wanted to be.
Suddenly, he spied light glinting off something metal in the corner, by the couch. Could it be? He investigated, elated when closer inspection revealed it to be Hawkgirl's mace. The course of vengeance was indeed running swiftly today. He tip-toed over to the closest airlock…
***
"And so, in conclusion, I'd just like to say this: if an emergency comes up, please feel free NOT to contact me." Smiling, Superman concluded his brief meeting in which he outlined his vacation plans with Lois. "Good-bye…and as much as I like you all, I hope not to see any of you before the beginning of next week."
"I certainly hope Superman enjoys his vacation," Wonder Woman said to Hawkgirl on the way out of the conference room. The two had been the last to leave, lingering to finish cups of coffee.
"I'm sure he will if that goofy grin he had on his face is…" A loud noise arrested the rest of what she was going to say. "What on Earth was that?"
"I think it came from J'onn's room," Wonder Woman said. "I hope he hasn't been hurt or injured."
And indeed, the voice sounded ghastly, a sort of long, drawn-out groaning that one would associate, perhaps, with a sucking chest wound.
Wonder Woman ran to J'onn's door, with Hawkgirl at her heels, and commenced banging on the door. "J'onn, J'onn, open up, open up! Are you okay?!"
The terrible noise stopped, and a very surprised looking J'onn opened the door, staring at Wonder Woman in some concern.
"Of course I am. Why would you think that I am not?"
"That noise…we thought someone had been seriously injured," replied Wonder Woman.
"Ahhh…that," he said, the look of confusion clearing from his face. "That was just my yodeling."
"Just your yodeling?!" Hawkgirl repeated, incredulously. "Just your yodeling? Since when do yodel?"
"I recently auditioned for, and won, the part of the bear in an off-Broadway production of A Winter's Tale. The director told me that yodeling would help me to improve the projection of my voice."**
"The bear? Since when is the bear a speaking part?"
"You never know," J'onn said solemnly. "It is revisionist Shakespeare. And now, if you'll pardon me, I have to get back to my voice exercises."
When the door had closed, Hawkgirl threw her hands up in the air.
"Men! We have one who can't talk and one who has decided to take up yodeling! Dear God, what next?!
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she caught something metallic gleaming out of the aft porthole. "It can't be," she breathed. "My mace! How did it get…"
"FLASH! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS!"
***
Batman, on duty at the Watchtower, did a double-take when he saw the cameras flash to the kitchen. What on earth…?
Hawkgirl appeared to be whaling away at a small, red, punching bag.
"You bastard! You'll go out there and get my f*cking mack yourself, you son of a…"
Batman sat up, impressed. Hawkgirl could swear better than a sailor…he listened, as she wove her strings of profanity. It was like poetry. First there was an illusion to Flash's parentage, then his IQ, followed by his masculinity. Honestly, it was almost beautiful.
He watched as Flash was backed up against the counter, his hands reaching behind him…Batman saw it almost in slow motion as his hands connected with Superman's cherry pie from last night…his fingers closing around the dish…bringing it up in front of him…and smack! into Hawkgirl's face.
She stood, stock still for a second, silent, as pie filling and crust slowly dripped down her face and onto her uniform.
Batman laughed—he couldn't help it.
"You diseased little pimp! You're going to get it!"
Flash smiled, and sped away, a blur of red.
Superman chose that second to poke his head into the control room.
Bruce jumped. Superman hadn't heard him laughing, had he?
"Batman, anything final before I go?"
"No, Superman, enjoy your vacation—but I wouldn't plan on taking your cherry pie with you."
Batman enjoyed the puzzled look Superman gave him, and turned back to the monitors.
***
Wonder Woman was just getting ready for bed when she heard a knock on the door. It was Hawkgirl.
"Want to go out for a few drinks?"
"Uh, Hawkgirl, isn't it a little late? I mean, I was just getting ready for bed, and I have monitor duty tomorrow…how about a raincheck?"
"Let me put it to you this way: I need to go out for a few drinks before I kill that yodeling freak, who is still at it. Are all the men around here conspiring to drive me insane?"
"I don't know…why don't you ask Green Lantern? I'm sure he'd be…" Wonder Woman cut off at the look of disgust on Hawkgirl's face.
"I did ask John. He said he couldn't. He was off to some…handball tournament! Handball, for god's sakes! Handball! What the hell is that?"
Wonder Woman was still unconvinced.
"Come on, Diana! I'll even buy the first round. Or are you just going to sit here all night, waiting for Bruce to call?"
The dark flush on Wonder Woman's cheeks gave her away. "I wasn't waiting for anyone to call."
"Good," said Hawkgirl, dragging her out of her room. "Then you'll have no problem joining me for a few rounds."
***
Wonder Woman looked down at the green liquid in her shot glass. "What is this? It looks nice."
"It tastes even nicer. Kind of like licorice."
"Really? Then what is it they say? Bottoms up?"
"Amen to that!" And so saying, Hawkgirl brought her glass up to her lips, draining it in a single swallow.
Diana followed suit, and came up gasping. "Hera, but this stuff is strong!"
Hawkgirl looked amused. "That's the way it's supposed to be, honey. Care for another?"
"Well…" Diana considered doubtfully. "I guess one more wouldn't hurt. It really didn't taste too bad."
"That's the spirit!" Hawkgirl said, signaling the bartender.
***
Two hours later…
John had just arrived back from his handball tournament, wide-awake and excited about the victory his team had just scored when he spotted Shayera coming down the hallway with Diana in tow.
"Shy, you'll never believe what happened in our tournament! It was great!"
"John," she said. "Look at me."
He stopped, confused.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Um…dragging Diana down the hall?"
"That's right, pal. Now, are you going to stand there, or are you going to help me get her back to her room? Believe it or not, supporting a six-foot tall Amazon is not as easy as it looks."
Diana chose that moment to pick up her head. "Johnnie, is that you?" she said, slurring her words. "Didn't you shower after your game? You stink!"
John held up his hands. "Uh, I think I had better go," he said. "I have some, uh, things to take care of. See you later!"
Hawkgirl screamed. "I am surrounded by IDIOTS!"
In the distance, the echo of a yodel could be heard.
***
On the beach, Superman looked over at Lois. "More suntan lotion?"
"Please."
***
THE END