The last prose part. I don't know where this would go next unless Daisy
went water skiing or started doing Dairylea ads, which wouldn't be very
funny (though I don't think this was ever that funny).
I swear, just one part to go after this. Maybe. Perhaps. Barring more insomnia. Hmm.
I disclaim. Still don't really want this.
Segment 8
'Me and Betsy' had stuck at the number one spot for three weeks, in the top ten for six more and even now, three months after it fell to number 26, was still lurking in the thirties refusing to go away.
Clark had never confessed to be the singer, had never given a public performance, and had most certainly not given Chloe an interview.
Somehow, however, Lex knew. To his credit, he'd only smirked for four days, raised his eyebrows for two and positively chortled for six hours after he found Clark tying ribbons around Betsy's tail. Betsy, recognising quality when she saw it, had immediately given the millionaire play boy a firm nudge in the ribs. Then she'd licked his scalp with a rough, wet tongue and mooed loudly in his ear.
It had been Clark's turn to laugh as he reassured his friend that these were all marks of her great affection for him. Saliva dripping onto his Armani suit, Lex could only just see the funny side.
Jonathon had not been so forgiving. Betsy, deciding that his high and mighty attitude about what to do with her money, mostly to do with buying a new chicken coop, was just too much for her to handle, had firmly pushed him out of her field and into the drinking trough. The sight of his father, sitting in the trough, glowering fiercely at their prized cow, had been too much for Clark. He'd run half a mile before he let himself laugh.
Between Betsy and Pete's renditions of the 'Me and Betsy' song, the past few weeks had certainly been amusing, but he couldn't be sorry his singing career was coming to an end. He'd made sure of that by a phone call to the one person Mark the Mad was afraid of - another agent, Jenna. She'd muzzled Mark, and the cost had been nominal: the promise that she would be his manager if he ever made another record.
Safe in the knowledge that he'd never require her services again, Clark settled down with Betsy for one last sing-song.
I swear, just one part to go after this. Maybe. Perhaps. Barring more insomnia. Hmm.
I disclaim. Still don't really want this.
Segment 8
'Me and Betsy' had stuck at the number one spot for three weeks, in the top ten for six more and even now, three months after it fell to number 26, was still lurking in the thirties refusing to go away.
Clark had never confessed to be the singer, had never given a public performance, and had most certainly not given Chloe an interview.
Somehow, however, Lex knew. To his credit, he'd only smirked for four days, raised his eyebrows for two and positively chortled for six hours after he found Clark tying ribbons around Betsy's tail. Betsy, recognising quality when she saw it, had immediately given the millionaire play boy a firm nudge in the ribs. Then she'd licked his scalp with a rough, wet tongue and mooed loudly in his ear.
It had been Clark's turn to laugh as he reassured his friend that these were all marks of her great affection for him. Saliva dripping onto his Armani suit, Lex could only just see the funny side.
Jonathon had not been so forgiving. Betsy, deciding that his high and mighty attitude about what to do with her money, mostly to do with buying a new chicken coop, was just too much for her to handle, had firmly pushed him out of her field and into the drinking trough. The sight of his father, sitting in the trough, glowering fiercely at their prized cow, had been too much for Clark. He'd run half a mile before he let himself laugh.
Between Betsy and Pete's renditions of the 'Me and Betsy' song, the past few weeks had certainly been amusing, but he couldn't be sorry his singing career was coming to an end. He'd made sure of that by a phone call to the one person Mark the Mad was afraid of - another agent, Jenna. She'd muzzled Mark, and the cost had been nominal: the promise that she would be his manager if he ever made another record.
Safe in the knowledge that he'd never require her services again, Clark settled down with Betsy for one last sing-song.