It was Clark's last night in Smallville, and Pete Ross had just gotten home from the celebrations. He'd possibly had a bit more to drink than he should have. In fact, it was possible that he was more drunk now than he would ever be again in his entire life. He was so drunk in fact that anything was possible, and so, after having a shower, changing his clothes and drinking some food coloring, he stopped listening to his head (that had stopped making sense many hours ago) and started listening to his heart. His heart was telling him to ask Lana Lang out, and that was what he was going to do. Besides, if knowing Clark Kent all these years had taught him anything, it was the misery that an unrequited love for Lana could bring.
Thus it was that Clark and Lana's moonlit walk home was interrupted by a staggering Pete Ross, who, now that his legs had accomplished their mission of reaching Lana, promptly fell over in front of them.
The two rushed over to him. Lana picked him up and saw his bright red tongue.
"Clark, get help. I think he's bleeding internally."
"No," explained Pete, staring into Lana's face, pleased by the concern it showed. "It's red food coloring."
"What? Is this some kind of sick joke? You wanted us to think you were hurt?" asked Lana, as she dropped Pete back on the ground.
"No," said Pete, as he got up and fell down again. "I came to ask you out but was afraid I might throw up - I thought that, at least this way, it would come out pink. That is your favorite color, isn't it?"
Clark burst out laughing. That was the stupidest thing, not to mention the most rhetorical question, that he'd ever heard.
Lana kneeled down next to Pete again. "Awww, Pete, that's so sweet."
As Lana helped Pete back up, she looked up at Clark - the boy she really wanted to ask her out, but it looked like now he never would. "Clark, you go home. I'll take care of Pete."
"But, Lana, I …" Clark started. It was his last night in Smallville and there was still so much he had to say.
"It's OK. I can handle him on my own. You go. I don't want to spoil your last night here."
"OK. Bye, Lana," he said, and turned away. Tears welled up in both their eyes as the words they both wanted to hear remained unsaid.
Ten minutes later, Clark Kent was standing on a bridge, gazing into the distance, thinking about Lana. Gradually his thoughts moved on to bigger things ... to his life in Smallville.
"So, Kal-El, Last Son of Krypton, ever wondered what would have happened in Smallville if you'd never come along?"
Clark turned around in surprise. Ever since his super-hearing arrived, nobody had managed to sneak up on him undetected. He looked at the stranger, who was clad in a long black cloak along with an equally black hat, the brim of which cast a shadow over the upper half of his face.
"Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"Does it matter? I'm just a stranger, nobody important. Your secret's safe with me."
Clark looked again at the stranger. It was a warm night and the stranger's garb confused Clark almost as much as the stranger himself.
"Aren't you a bit over-dressed?"
"Haven't you heard? Snow's been forecast?"
"You've got to be kidding. It never snows in Smallville. What sort of idiot would forecast snow?"
"I did," replied the stranger calmly. "Now, as I said before, would you like to see what would have become of Smallville if you'd never arrived."
"Why, who are you? An angel?"
"Might have been once. Hard to remember. Not done anything like that recently, though. Why do you ask?"
"What you said. It made me think about that film."
"Edward Scissorhands?"
"No," replied Clark, utterly confused by the stranger's reply. "I meant It's A Wonderful Life."
"Haven't seen that one. I've only ever seen Edward Scissorhands. Sorry."
"Anyway, in It's A Wonderful Life this angel shows Jimmy Stewart what would have happened to his town if he'd never existed."
"Oh, the old parallel world schtick. No, that's a bit predictable and slightly voyeuristic. I was just going to make up a story."
"OK, but can you make it quick."
"Of course. I'd hate to interrupt your important bridge-standing. It all starts with one word."
"One word?"
"Snow"