"He who sheds his blood with me today shall be my brother. Be he ne'er so
vile, this day shall gentle his condition! Pink backpacks in Smallville,
now a-bed, shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here. And hold
their manhoods cheap while any speaks that fought with us—" Martha's
whiskey bottle tore brutally through Sebastian's throat.
"Ha ha!" Martha Kent cried in triumph.
"Noooo!" Screamed Lancelot, and he rushed forward, pinning Martha against the wall as she impotently flailed her broken whisky bottle back and forth. The second the gang of pink backpacks appeared before her, and suddenly, Martha realized the terrible truth...
This would be a fight to the death.
* * *
Jonathan Kent was sweating with exertion, hoisting the machine gun up to aim at Lana. "I will blow-- this backpack-- back to the hell that spawned it..." He was breathing heavily all if a sudden, a strained look on his face.
"No! Don't kill me, Mr. Kent!" Lana screamed in her head. But as a backpack, she had no mouth with which to speak, so he did not hear her.
"Yes..." Jonathan said, his voice tight and raw. Suddenly his eyes sunk closed, and he swayed on his feet. "Must... destroy.... it... Must... not... let... Lionel... take... my... pink back—" And then his hand flew to his chest, his eyes popping wide open in response to a sudden lance of pain. "Aah!"
"He's having a heart attack!" Lana thought with relief.
"Pain... running like fire... through my poor... bereaved nerves..." Jonathan rasped before falling to the ground.
"He does a really good Captain Kirk impersonation," Lana said, surprised. The nearby mailbox had the grace to look disgusted. Jonathan, meanwhile, was twitching and convulsing in inhuman agony.
Suddenly, with a big whoosh, Clark appeared at his fallen father's side. "I heard there was trouble with a low-flying— Dad!" His voice cracked with panic as he rushed forward, grasping his father's sagging body. "Oh no! Oh, God, no!"
"Oh, Clark! Thank God!" Lana cried. "Please help me! I'm stuck sitting in the dirt!" Her pink cloth was getting dirty!
And sure enough, Clark glanced over and was suddenly enraptured by the sight of the strange, but beautiful, pink backpack, lying discarded and... abandoned in the dirt. "The backpack..." he murmured, dropping his father twitching body to the ground. "I thought Mom destroyed you!" Tears filled his eyes. "Oh God, I thought you were gone forever!"
There was something strangely compelling about the pink backpack. Something that demanded disproportionate amounts of screen time that contributed nothing to the quality of Clark's life, were his life depicted in a television show.
"Baaaaah!!!!" Somewhere far away, a man named Scrooge had screamed the first part of his famous phrase of scorn, and as the wail of, "Huuuummmmbugggh" drifted over the horizon, Clark was suddenly jolted out of a strange spell.
Disoriented, he blinked, and blinked again. He suddenly realized that his father was having a heart attack behind him, that he'd let his dying father drop callously to the dirt to die while he obsessed over the welfare of a pink backpack.
"Oh my God," Clark whispered in horror, like a man arisen from a trance. He looked with wide, suddenly comprehending eyes at Lana, who was just worried he might abandon her. "That backpack..."
She perked up at the mention of her.
"That.... pink backpack..."
"Yes?" Lana prompted.
"It's... evil!"
Lana had been thinking of her parents, how brutally they abandoned her, so she did not initially hear him call her 'evil.'
"EVIL!" Clark roared, staggering back from her and grasping his father protectively in his arms. "I have to destroy that backpack... Aah! I have to save my father! Oh curse the burdens of being a superhero!"
His eyes flashed back to Lana, promising bloody revenge, and then suddenly, he streaked away with his father in his arms, leaving his clothing in a pile on the ground.
It took Lana a moment to comprehend what had just occurred, and then she realized it. "I've been abandoned!!!"
"Yes, Lana darling, you have indeed been abandoned..." said a menacing voice from behind her.
Lana turned her backpacky eyes. "Who could that be..."
The person standing before her froze the blood she did not have.
"WHITNEY!" she cried in shock and horror.
"Yes, it is me, Whitney, your astonishingly good-looking ex- boyfriend!" Whitney rasped. He no longer retained his boyish good looks. Perhaps being blown into pieces and then decaying for a while diminished youthful beauty.
"Whitney..." Lana breathed. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since you abandoned me! I never expected to see you after that! And you can hear me speak! How is that possible?" Lana stared at him in wonder, and then added, "And you've been dead a while. That's another thing that makes this kinda weird."
Whitney glared at her, through festering eyes. "I did die, Lana. And I had to come back from the grave just to give you a message—from your parents, from me, from Tina Greer, from the bug guy, the little girl, from various other dead people you know in abundance..."
"Is it about that blue shirt I wore the other day?" Lana said thoughtfully. "Because I swear, Chloe put a sock in my laundry bag and turned all my pink—"
"Not everything is about you!" Whitney screamed. "I'm dead, for the love of God, and the first thing you remember is that I abandoned you!"
"Why is he mad at me all of a sudden?" Lana thought sadly. "I'm not the one who did the abandoning."
Tears would have filled his eyes, but since his corpse had long dehydrated, he just scoffed forcefully at her. "I tried to rest in peace, I really did! Just like your parents have been trying! And the bug boy, and the little girl, and the guy with the gun!" His voice was breaking with despair. "But you just kept moaning, and moaning, and complaining about how I'd abandoned you, how your parents have abandoned you, that you roused our spirits from their proper place, and they forced me to return to earth to put you out of our misery! Killing you is the only way I can rest in peace!"
"What?" Lana thought with a sudden jolt of alarm. "Whitney's going to try to... kill me?" She just couldn't get her head around to the concept that anyone would want to destroy her.
"Yes," said the zombie Whitney. "I am going to kill Lana Lang." He pulled back his lips to reveal long, canine teeth. "I can't eat your brains, so instead, I am going to bite my backpacky ex-girlfriend to death."
He approached menacingly. "Oh, by the way," he added quickly, drawing back. "Your dead, non-biological father said to tell you your mother's a real slut. And your dead uncle said your dead aunt's a bit of one, too. And now that I think about it—weren't you going to cheat on me with Clark—"
Lana frowned, thinking how sad it was everyone abandoned her. She tuned out his words until he mentioned, "And how did you just turn into a backpack?"
Lana fumbled for an explanation, but he cut her off. "No more stalling!" He smiled to reveal blood-soaked teeth. "I've dallied too long! Now, Lana Lang, I'm going to kill you!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
WILL LANA BE BRUTALLY MURDERED BY WHITNEY? WILL SHE EVER REGAIN HER HUMAN FORM, AND STOP PEOPLE FROM TRYING TO KILL HER OR WORSE, ABANDON HER??? WILL LIONEL ALLOW HENRY SMALL TO PARK IN HIS EMPLOYEE PARKING SPACE AT THE BANK NOW THAT HE'S QUIT???
"Ha ha!" Martha Kent cried in triumph.
"Noooo!" Screamed Lancelot, and he rushed forward, pinning Martha against the wall as she impotently flailed her broken whisky bottle back and forth. The second the gang of pink backpacks appeared before her, and suddenly, Martha realized the terrible truth...
This would be a fight to the death.
* * *
Jonathan Kent was sweating with exertion, hoisting the machine gun up to aim at Lana. "I will blow-- this backpack-- back to the hell that spawned it..." He was breathing heavily all if a sudden, a strained look on his face.
"No! Don't kill me, Mr. Kent!" Lana screamed in her head. But as a backpack, she had no mouth with which to speak, so he did not hear her.
"Yes..." Jonathan said, his voice tight and raw. Suddenly his eyes sunk closed, and he swayed on his feet. "Must... destroy.... it... Must... not... let... Lionel... take... my... pink back—" And then his hand flew to his chest, his eyes popping wide open in response to a sudden lance of pain. "Aah!"
"He's having a heart attack!" Lana thought with relief.
"Pain... running like fire... through my poor... bereaved nerves..." Jonathan rasped before falling to the ground.
"He does a really good Captain Kirk impersonation," Lana said, surprised. The nearby mailbox had the grace to look disgusted. Jonathan, meanwhile, was twitching and convulsing in inhuman agony.
Suddenly, with a big whoosh, Clark appeared at his fallen father's side. "I heard there was trouble with a low-flying— Dad!" His voice cracked with panic as he rushed forward, grasping his father's sagging body. "Oh no! Oh, God, no!"
"Oh, Clark! Thank God!" Lana cried. "Please help me! I'm stuck sitting in the dirt!" Her pink cloth was getting dirty!
And sure enough, Clark glanced over and was suddenly enraptured by the sight of the strange, but beautiful, pink backpack, lying discarded and... abandoned in the dirt. "The backpack..." he murmured, dropping his father twitching body to the ground. "I thought Mom destroyed you!" Tears filled his eyes. "Oh God, I thought you were gone forever!"
There was something strangely compelling about the pink backpack. Something that demanded disproportionate amounts of screen time that contributed nothing to the quality of Clark's life, were his life depicted in a television show.
"Baaaaah!!!!" Somewhere far away, a man named Scrooge had screamed the first part of his famous phrase of scorn, and as the wail of, "Huuuummmmbugggh" drifted over the horizon, Clark was suddenly jolted out of a strange spell.
Disoriented, he blinked, and blinked again. He suddenly realized that his father was having a heart attack behind him, that he'd let his dying father drop callously to the dirt to die while he obsessed over the welfare of a pink backpack.
"Oh my God," Clark whispered in horror, like a man arisen from a trance. He looked with wide, suddenly comprehending eyes at Lana, who was just worried he might abandon her. "That backpack..."
She perked up at the mention of her.
"That.... pink backpack..."
"Yes?" Lana prompted.
"It's... evil!"
Lana had been thinking of her parents, how brutally they abandoned her, so she did not initially hear him call her 'evil.'
"EVIL!" Clark roared, staggering back from her and grasping his father protectively in his arms. "I have to destroy that backpack... Aah! I have to save my father! Oh curse the burdens of being a superhero!"
His eyes flashed back to Lana, promising bloody revenge, and then suddenly, he streaked away with his father in his arms, leaving his clothing in a pile on the ground.
It took Lana a moment to comprehend what had just occurred, and then she realized it. "I've been abandoned!!!"
"Yes, Lana darling, you have indeed been abandoned..." said a menacing voice from behind her.
Lana turned her backpacky eyes. "Who could that be..."
The person standing before her froze the blood she did not have.
"WHITNEY!" she cried in shock and horror.
"Yes, it is me, Whitney, your astonishingly good-looking ex- boyfriend!" Whitney rasped. He no longer retained his boyish good looks. Perhaps being blown into pieces and then decaying for a while diminished youthful beauty.
"Whitney..." Lana breathed. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since you abandoned me! I never expected to see you after that! And you can hear me speak! How is that possible?" Lana stared at him in wonder, and then added, "And you've been dead a while. That's another thing that makes this kinda weird."
Whitney glared at her, through festering eyes. "I did die, Lana. And I had to come back from the grave just to give you a message—from your parents, from me, from Tina Greer, from the bug guy, the little girl, from various other dead people you know in abundance..."
"Is it about that blue shirt I wore the other day?" Lana said thoughtfully. "Because I swear, Chloe put a sock in my laundry bag and turned all my pink—"
"Not everything is about you!" Whitney screamed. "I'm dead, for the love of God, and the first thing you remember is that I abandoned you!"
"Why is he mad at me all of a sudden?" Lana thought sadly. "I'm not the one who did the abandoning."
Tears would have filled his eyes, but since his corpse had long dehydrated, he just scoffed forcefully at her. "I tried to rest in peace, I really did! Just like your parents have been trying! And the bug boy, and the little girl, and the guy with the gun!" His voice was breaking with despair. "But you just kept moaning, and moaning, and complaining about how I'd abandoned you, how your parents have abandoned you, that you roused our spirits from their proper place, and they forced me to return to earth to put you out of our misery! Killing you is the only way I can rest in peace!"
"What?" Lana thought with a sudden jolt of alarm. "Whitney's going to try to... kill me?" She just couldn't get her head around to the concept that anyone would want to destroy her.
"Yes," said the zombie Whitney. "I am going to kill Lana Lang." He pulled back his lips to reveal long, canine teeth. "I can't eat your brains, so instead, I am going to bite my backpacky ex-girlfriend to death."
He approached menacingly. "Oh, by the way," he added quickly, drawing back. "Your dead, non-biological father said to tell you your mother's a real slut. And your dead uncle said your dead aunt's a bit of one, too. And now that I think about it—weren't you going to cheat on me with Clark—"
Lana frowned, thinking how sad it was everyone abandoned her. She tuned out his words until he mentioned, "And how did you just turn into a backpack?"
Lana fumbled for an explanation, but he cut her off. "No more stalling!" He smiled to reveal blood-soaked teeth. "I've dallied too long! Now, Lana Lang, I'm going to kill you!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
WILL LANA BE BRUTALLY MURDERED BY WHITNEY? WILL SHE EVER REGAIN HER HUMAN FORM, AND STOP PEOPLE FROM TRYING TO KILL HER OR WORSE, ABANDON HER??? WILL LIONEL ALLOW HENRY SMALL TO PARK IN HIS EMPLOYEE PARKING SPACE AT THE BANK NOW THAT HE'S QUIT???