THE FINAL CHAPTER

Lana was so puzzled by all the people around her trying to kill her that she barely realized what was happening. "You'd think in backpack form, I couldn't really offend anyone," she speculated. "Yet I seem to have more stalkers than ever. Why?? Why, GOD, WHY??? I am so kind and generous, and beautiful (although I think I'm very ugly, but everyone else says I'm gorgeous, so…) Why has everyone tried to kill me today?"

"You…. Are…. Wrong…" said Kara, in the stuttering and breathy way she enunciated everything. "You see…. Lana… you remain infuriatingly…. Blameless…. Whatever your actions… whatever your words… you are the gaping blind spot…. That consumes…. The entire… screen. Do you understand…. my profound… if stuttering… and breathless… words?"

Lana was confused, but she was spared further attempts at understanding whatever the hell Kara was boring everyone by trying to say when Kara tossed Lana's backpacky body down to the floor.

"I have brought you Lana Lang, Jor-El."

And Kara vanished, cause she was actually some dead girl.

"Ahh Lana…" said Jor-El's voice. "Perhaps you wonder why I've brought you here?"

Lana had actually been thinking about her dead parents, but now that he mentioned it, she supposed she did.

"Sure, I guess!"

Jor-El laughed fiendishly. "I have brought you here to kill you!"

Lana gasped. "To kill me!!??"

"Too long have you distracted my son from more interesting pursuits, such as saving the world, behaving in a vaguely mature fashion, and recognizing his true sexual orientation. No longer shall you corrupt my son's life! I will destroy you now, vile Lana Lang! I have a little stone in my hand," he showed her the stone, "that vaguely resembles William Howard Taft. I will use my superhuman strength to grind you into dust with it!"

"No, Jor-El, no! Do not grind me into dust to death with a William Howard Taft shaped-stone!" Lana shrieked. She was such a pretty backpack, and William Howard Taft was such an unattractive president!

"Ah ha ha! But I will!" Jor-El raised his arm to grind Lana to death with the William Howard Taft-shaped stone…

And stopped.

"But!" He said, in a strange, husky whisper. "I find it difficult to destroy such a beautiful pink backpack…." His voice grew hoarse and sexy. "You are soft, and silken fabric... You remind me strangely of a floral field in which I want to lie, until my flesh has festered from my bones."

"That's so sweet," Lionel moaned from the entrance to the cave. Behind him, Clark was staring, transfixed, at the spectacle of his biological father cavorting with his backpacky nemesis.

He had returned from the emergency room to destroy the evil backpack that had almost cost him his adopted father's life; he had started in horror when he heard his biological father interacting with the evil backpack. He'd immediately assumed some evil plot was afoot!

Yet when his biological father whipped out a William Howard Taft-shaped stone, he realized he'd misinterpreted the situation. This backpack and his cruel, controlling father were actually on the verge of a fight to the death!

And then everything changed in a heartbeat.

Suddenly, his father showed a softer side, just like Sears. He put aside his enmity and opened his heart to the beauty and joy offered by a small, pink backpack.

And Clark realized… Perhaps he could do the same?

That backpack was actually really special, and so beautiful. Whatever could he have been thinking back when he found his father and the backpack? He really should have left his dying father there and picked up the gorgeous pink backpack!

"Oh, my lovely backpack," Clark moaned. He raised his eyes to meet those of his biological father (or his cave persona), and felt vaguely weirded out that he was ogling the same backpack as his father.

He heard a soft chuckle behind him. Lionel Luthor (who had been driving by the hospital in a steamroller to crush the car of Henry Small, who had apparently robbed him of his employee parking space or something similar) had generously offered to drive Clark to the mysterious caves, where Clark, mysteriously, assumed the mysterious backpack would be.

"You blind fool," Lionel murmured. "You still remain oblivious to her identity, even when your father and I perceived it clear as day!"

"Whaa?" Clark asked, and Lana's heart leaped with hope.

"That's…" Lionel smiled evilly. "That's for me to know, and you to—" He frowned suddenly. "I am already bored with this. That is Lana Lang. She is a backpack now."

Clark gaped at him, then at the backpack. And suddenly, understanding dawned in his eyes. "Of course!" He laughed in sheer joy. "Lana!" He swooped down upon her like a happy teddy bear, accidentally knocking over a stone that happened to be the source of power for Jor-El's cave persona, thus destroying any vestige of his biological father in this universe. He didn't notice.

"Lana, my love, my beautiful, pink she-woman!"

"Yes, Clark, it's me!" Lana cried happily. However, even though he knew who she was, she still could not speak, for she was a backpack, and had no mouth.

"Oh Lana, you're sexier than ever," Clark whispered huskily.

Lionel was too squicked out at this point, and he decided to confine his evil plots to people who actually mattered in Superman mythology, and thus left to find his bald and sexy son.

Clark caressed Lana's fabric-y skin joyfully. "However will I turn you back to a woman again?" he murmured. "I do need my beard-- I mean, my twuest luv back."

"That's simple," said Lex from the doorway. "Just add three pints of salt," he held up a salt bottle for Clark's inspection, "And she'll turn back into a woman. Works every time."

Lana braced herself for the onslaught of salt. And it came….

She suddenly found herself standing before the boys, two boys gazing sexily into each other's eyes.

"I'm human again!" she cried joyously. She cried out too loudly, though, and suddenly a lethal cave in crushed her newly human body.

Clark and Lex stared in horror.

"Oh Lexy, how will I bear this?" Clark asked sadly.

Lex gently caressed Clark's shoulder. "With my strong arms around you."

Clark gazed up into Lex's eyes. "Do you also find tragedy a real turn-on?"

"I do, Clark, I do."

And the two boys fell into each other's arms; however, every time they made sweet, passionate love, they briefly thought about the beautiful Lana Lang whose tragic fate had brought them together. And they knew, were she alive to witness this, she would surely be thinking about her dead parents in respect to herself.

THE END