Clark returned to the Daily Planet office that morning.
He pushed open the glass door, clutching the article he had spent most of the night revising.
He had made the "man-eating plants in Central Park" incident the subject of his article, using it to explore the issue of ecological imbalance in depth.
Although he had ended up dangling from a utility pole as Superman, that also served as a cautionary example, illustrating the profound point that "even having superpowers is no excuse to neglect environmental protection."
He was quite confident in the article. After all, it was only "Superman" who had embarrassed himself this time, while he could prove that he had what it took to become a seasoned reporter.
He strode into the office in high spirits and looked toward the editor-in-chief's desk.
Hammond was sitting at the most prominent curved desk in the middle of the office, staring at Clark with a grim expression.
Clark rarely saw that look on his editor-in-chief's face. Usually, Hammond lounged around and did little besides nag everyone to turn in their articles.
He glanced around the office.
Something was wrong.
All his colleagues in the newsroom were at their desks. No one was answering the phone, no one was typing, and no one was getting coffee in the break room...
The tension in the office felt like something was about to erupt.
He assumed another major news story had broken and was about to ask what had happened-
Everyone's computer screen flickered at once, and then a face appeared on each one.
It was a man in clown makeup, with patchy red greasepaint on his lips stretching in an exaggerated curve from the corners of his mouth to his ears.
The clown grinned, and unsettling laughter instantly filled the office.
"Hello, Clark~~