"Hey! New guy, you big idiot! There's ketchup spilled on this table. Get over here and clean it up!"
Inside a small roadside diner in Nunavut, northern Canada, the potbellied owner pounded the counter and shouted at the man mopping in the corner.
Clark Kent straightened, leaned the mop against the wall, grabbed a rag, and walked over.
"Coming right up, boss." Clark's voice was gentle, without a trace of irritation.
A full month had passed since he left Gotham City, with its endless rain and maddening oppression.
Over that month, he had traveled north with Krypto, crossed the U.S.-Canada border, and finally settled in this remote town near the Arctic Circle, taking a job doing odd tasks for just eight dollars an hour.
The old CRT television in the corner of the diner was showing CNN's international news.
"...According to our special correspondent in Gotham, the fallout from the 'Gotham Police Department purge' that shocked the nation a month ago continues. Former Police Commissioner Loeb has been formally transferred to Blackgate Penitentiary on charges involving the kidnapping of a detective's family and massive embezzlement. District Attorney Harvey Dent and Detective James Gordon have joined forces to cut off several of the Falcone Family's funding channels..."
On the screen, Detective Gordon looked haggard but resolute as he escorted his wife and daughter out of the courthouse.
"Meanwhile, officials continue to deny rumors of a 'Batman' wearing a black cape on Gotham's streets..."
Clark watched the television as he wiped the table, the faintest hint of a smile lifting his lips.
It seemed that the short-tempered, deeply guarded "Black Cape" had made the right choice after all.
There was still hope for that city.
"Woof!" Krypto wagged his tail beneath the counter, seemingly agreeing with his owner's thoughts.
"Quit slacking! Once