Lois cradles Clark's sleeping head between her thighs.
"Wake up, Smallville," she says, ready to torment.
The weight of her body doesn't wake him, nor do her words in his ears.
Readjusting into the covers, Clark gently lets the name "Lana," escape his slumbering lips.
"Ewww...," Lois squeals, scooting herself further up his chest.
"Wake up!" she slaps, already annoyed.
Clark's eyes fly open, a look of sheer terror on his face.
"Wakey, wakey Clarkie," she says, an evil grin creeping across her lips. "I see Clark Jr, is sleeping in his tent tonight."
Sitting up he presses his hands on her shoulders, picking her up and off of him in one quick motion.
Adjusting himself in his pajama bottoms, he clears his throat uncomfortably.
"Lois?" he asks, still a little groggy from the unusual wake up. "What are you doing in here?"
"I'm the tooth fairy," she says, grabbing a joint out of her pocket, lighting it up with expert precision.
His eyes widen, "is that pot you're smoking?"
She bursts out laughing, blowing out the green misty smoke in his direction.
Clark blinks at the smoke, tries to hold his breath to keep any of it from slipping down his throat into his lungs, but the second the smoke touches his skin he knows something is wrong. The smoke burns his skin ever so slightly; just a tingling, but enough to make him open his mouth enough for a little smoke to trickle past his lips.
Immediately it affects him. His shoulders slump, his stomach churns, his back tenses in an effort to stay erect; but it fails as his entire body turns to jelly. Clark throws his arm back to keep from falling.
"I know," Lois smiles, "quite a rush, eh?"
X x X x X x
Lex stands in the light pouring from the refrigerator, both it and the freezer door wide open. His bald head buried deep inside, he digs for tasty treasures. He emerges victorious, a Jell-O brand pudding pop in his grasp.
"I thought they stopped making these!" he exudes joy, swiping off the wrapping and letting the length of the pop slide between his wanting lips.
"This will go great with Fried Chicken," he deduces, rising his other hand to his mouth to gnaw a mouthful of meat from the cold chicken breast he'd previously obtained from the refrigerator. Then with his mouth still full of succulent chicken, he licks the pudding pop from tip to stick.
"I love breasts, but not as much as I love pudding."
"Oooooh, do you know what would be excellent! Cold chicken dipped in pudding and then frozen into a pop," Lex brainstorms, "I should market that!" He even devises a business plan for the venture starting with, "I need to start a food division, then I can market it." Brainstorming further, "I could change the direction of the entire company. Instead of LuthorCorp, it could be LuthorFoods. Or LuthorPops! Yeah, LuthorPops!" he grows more excited by the idea.
"Isn't that a great idea," he says turning to an empty room. He quickly realizes that there's not a soul around to hear his idea. "I've gotta find Clark. He needs to suck on this."
Lex charges up the stairs to find his friend. Once at the top he sneaks a peak back down the length of the stairs, and their long journey back to the ground. Vertigo immediately grips him.
"Whoa, that's a long way down," Lex notices, his knees shaking violently. He drops his chicken breast to the ground so his one hand can grip the railing for stability. Of course, he doesn't even consider dropping the pudding pop.
Taking a tentative step, he concludes that it may be best to find surer footing on all fours, rather than his wobbly little legs. After planting both hands and both knees against the wood flooring, Lex crawls down the hallway in the direction he's just sure his best friend's room is.
He spies a door with a flickering light skipping against the floor under the door. Like a moth to the flame, he chases it, crawling along the floor to the end of the hall.
Ever so faintly, Lex can hear heavy breathing. He stops, but then a wicked smile creeps across his face.
"Lois," Lex giggles, "You saucy little minx."
Compelled to see more he stalks up to the door, which he notices isn't shut as tightly as it would need to be to keep peeping-toms at bay. With his index finger extended he pokes at the door until it slides open a sliver.
Lex's eye peers through the slitted opening, and he sees a candle on a bedstand, flickering. The sounds of panting and kissing unmistakable now.
With his extended finger, he pokes the door open a little further until he can see the two forms wrapped together between the sheets.
A leering smile finds its way across Lex's cheeks. The pudding pop in his hand melts gooey drops of pudding to his fingers.
"Why, what a saucy little minx you are," Lex declares, "Mrs. Kent."
X x X x X x
"Lois, you can't bring that into my parent's house," Clark proclaims, pressing his hand against his stomach that seems to be doing summersaults.
"It's a farm," Lois defends herself.
"Which grows corn," Clark tells her, holding his breath as he watches her take a drag.
"Come on, your parents were teenagers in the sixties. I think they've done their fair share of this stuff," Lois tries her best to shock him.
"No they would not," Clark snaps. "Pot is illegal."
"Yeah, duh," she retorts. "Oh come on, Smallville. Why do you always have to be such a boy scout?"
"My Dad would never do anything illegal," Clark puts his dad on a pedestal.
X x X x X x
"Oh my god, Mr. Kent, that can't be legal in this state," Lex whispers, planted in the doorway to Ma and Pa Kent's bedroom, his junior high giggle interrupted by a pawing at his Italian loafers.
Lex cranes his head around to find Shelby directly behind him.
"Shhhh," he whispers, trying to quiet the dog, "I'm trying to watch the Kents do it." His eyes beam as if the dog not only understood what he was saying, but might want to join in watching the show.
Shelby paws at Lex's loafers a little more forcefully.
"I hope you're still not mad at me for those little experiments my people did on you," Lex says to the dog.
Shelby growls.
"Shelby!" Jonathan yells from inside the room.
"Forget the dog!" Martha moans.
Shelby paws at Lex's butt.
Lex suddenly realizes just how much of a prone position he's currently occupying.
"Ooooh," Lex's eyes fly wide, "I hope you've been fixed."
Shelby licks her lips.
X x X x X x
"Good grief, Clark, it's just a little weed, no reason to get all emotional about it," Lois says, the small town stick in the mud beginning to ruin her buzz.
Having never been in the presence of an isotropic substance, Clark didn't realize it would affect him this way, like kryptonite does. But, this isn't kryptonite, at least he doesn't know that it is. He immediately thinks that Nancy Reagan was right, and he should just say no. But, it's hard to when Lois insisted on blowing it everywhere.
"You know, Smooth Scalp and I didn't come here for a lecture," she begins.
"Lex?" Clark asks, scared just where this night might be going.
"We came to party," Lois says, blowing a puff in Clark's face, making him fall back flat against the bed. Seizing her moment, she pounces like a cat, flinging her leg back over his body, straddling him like a stallion. A face up stallion with a gear shift.
"Jesus, Clark. I didn't come up here for fire wood," she bitches, man handling his man hood much to his discomfort.
He moans, unable to relieve himself of her hundred pound frame.
X x X x X x
Lex and Shelby stand off, both on all fours. Shelby advances a little.
Lex tries to draw his butt in. Sensing sweat on his forehead he raises his hand to wipe it away, instead smearing delicious pudding across his brow.
Shelby leaps, taking the full length of the pudding pop into his mouth and then triumphantly retreating from the scene.
"My pop!" Lex whispers, still keenly aware that the elder Kents are humping on the other side of the thin door.
Lex scampers down the hall after the dog who's retreating into another bedroom. He follows the dog in only to find Lois straddling Clark in a most compromising position.
"Dude," Lex's eyes light up at the sight of Clark, "did you know your parents are doing the same thing down the hall?"
Clark's eyes fly wide open, "My parents are doing pot?"
"No," Lex corrects him, "they're doing each other."
"What?" Clark genuinely doesn't get it.
"They're doing the deed. The proverbial 'it,'" Lex informs him.
Clark just blinks.
Lex, always trying to educate Clark explains, "He's sheathing his man-sword. They're doing the full body pleasure heave. The Vietnamese pole dance," he says, trying to keep a straight face.
Not getting the reaction he believes this news warrants, Lex continues with something a farmboy should understand, "Your dad is taking the log to the beaver."
"They're fucking," Lois slugs.
"And your mom's loving it!" Lex cackles.
Clark turns green, throwing his hand in front of his mouth, trying hard to hold in the chunks that have risen up in his throat.
"I wouldn't mind having those strong farmer's arms wrapped around my body," Lois offers up, arching her eyebrow.
Clark cringes at the barrage of images flooding his brain.
"Farmer's arms?" Lex asks, "What's wrong with the ones right there?" he points at Clark.
"These puny things," she lifts one up, the Kryto-pot smoke taking it's full effect on the boy making him completely weak. She drops the arm back limply to the bed, "he's a bit too soft for my taste."
"That's too bad. Besides, who said anything about Mr. Kent's arms being wrapped around her," Lex informs them.
"Lex!" Clark protests.
"Really?" Lois's curiosity is piqued.
"Let's just say he wasn't looking lovingly into her eyes," Lex grins.
"Enough!" Clark gags.
"Remind me to high five your mom next time I see her," Lois says, relishing Clark's discomfort way too much.
Having the attention span of a gnat, Lois finally notices the brown smudge across Lex's forehead.
"Who's ass you been crawling up, Shit face?" Lois asks, thoroughly disgusted.
Lex wipes the pudding from his brow, smells it, and then licks it.
"Oh yeah! I had the most brilliant idea!" Lex enthuses.
"What was it?" Lois asks.
"I don't know, but it was fucking brilliant!" They both smile and nod at eachother, mentally connecting through their baked states of mind.