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The Last Son of Krypton (Season One) — Page 3

Author
Time
 (Edited)

INT. HELEN’S HOME/BEDROOM — DAY

Another bout of lovemaking between Clark and Helen comes to a close.

CUT TO

A minute later.

Helen and Clark lay together, sheets bunched up between them. Instead of cuddling, making pillow talk, they watch the ceiling — Helen with disinterest, Clark with dissatisfaction — a silent, palpable distance between them.

Sitting up, Helen reaches over Clark for the nightstand on his side of the bed, taking up a cigarette case and lighter resting atop a movie magazine. As she fishes a cigarette from the case, Clark picks up the magazine; an image of Greta Garbo emblazons the front cover.

CLARK: Greta Garbo. (flips through magazine) Is she a good actress?

Lighting up her cigarette, Helen shrugs.

CLARK: I don’t know any of the actors. I’ve never been to the movies. I’ve never been out of Smallville to see one. (beat) My whole life.

HELEN: Poor dear. (solemn) I know that feeling well.

The two make eye contact, on the cusp of an emotional connection.

CLARK: Do you remember your first? Which was it?

Helen takes a moment to think it over.

HELEN: Frankenstein, in 1910. (takes drag) Yes, it was Frankenstein.

CLARK: What was it like?

HELEN: You’ve read the book.

CLARK: Certainly.

HELEN: There’s your answer.

The distance returns.

Helen offers Clark her cigarette. Accepting it, Clark takes a dispassionate puff. Tobacco does nothing for him.

INT. HELEN’S HOME/ENTRANCE HALL — DAY

Helen opens the front door for Clark.

HELEN: You’ll be in tomorrow, of course.

CLARK: It’ll be a long day for me. I don’t believe I’ll make it in.

HELEN: Then the day after.

CLARK: The family’s entertaining a guest — my cousin Luma, visiting down from Canada. I’m sorry.

Clark enters the threshold.

HELEN: (raises hand) Just a moment!

Stopping in the door, Clark waits for Helen as she leaves for another room. In a minute she returns, a fresh-baked pie in hand.

HELEN: (offers pie to Clark) Pecan.

CLARK: Thank you.

Helen starts to smile.

CLARK: (cont’d) Ma has allergies, but I appreciate the gesture.

The nascent smile dies.

CLARK: (forlorn) Take good care of yourself, Hel.

Clark steps through the door, closing it after him. Helen is left standing in the entrance hall, alone with her pie.

INT. LANG HOME/LANA’S BEDROOM — DAY

In her undergarments, singing softly to herself, Lana goes through her closet. She finds two items: a red blouse and a beige sweater. Looking them over, she chooses the sweater. Setting the sweater down beside a brown skirt atop her bed, she crosses over to her dresser. Gazing into the dresser mirror, she checks her hair. As she tucks an errant lock behind her ear, she sees in the reflection a face outside her bedroom window.

LANA: (gasps) Jumpin’ Jesus!

Spinning 'round, she finds it is Clark gazing in on her. She strides to the window; flinging it open, she leans out; Clark clutches the window frame, feet braced tightly against the wall, suspended two storeys above the ground, nothing on or against the wall he could’ve used to scale it.

LANA: How’d you ever manage‽

Taking a step back, Lana allows Clark to climb inside. She places her fists on her hips, none too pleased with Clark.

LANA: You’re a voyeur, too, now?

CLARK: Sorry. (averts gaze)

LANA: Suppose I can’t fault you. Must be desensitized to the sight of bubs by now.

Moving to her bed, Lana takes up her sweater.

LANA: Let’s not futz around. (slips sweater on) What’s on your mind?

CLARK: It’s over.

Lana takes up her skirt, eyes intent on Clark.

CLARK: (beat) Between your aunt and me.

LANA: (slips skirt on) Face stretcher wore thin?

CLARK: (turns to window) I should go.

LANA: (buttons skirt) Clark — no.

Taking him by the wrist, she sits him down beside her on the bed, ready to hear what he has to say.

CLARK: It was sex. Just sex. Nothing else. (beat) I tried to love her. I tried. But she wouldn’t let me in. (beat) Lana, is it me? Is there something wrong with me?

LANA: Clark … you’re a sap. A real sap. But my God … your heart is big. You, you shine — a sun on Earth. (beat) I pity Hel, if she can’t see you … (touches his lips) … appreciate you….

There is a loud rap at the door, startling them both.

SARAH LANG: (O.S.) Lana, are you decent?

LANA: (faces door; irate) Mother!

SARAH LANG: (O.S.) Peter’s just arrived.

LANA: (to herself) Oh, Pete! (to Mrs. Lang) I’ll be right down!

Rising, Lana retrieves her shoes.

CLARK: Having a night on the town with Pete?

Slipping into her shoes, Lana nods.

CLARK: Since when have you and Pete …?

LANA: Clark, we’ve been going steady two weeks. (beat) You didn’t realize?

CLARK: No. (bewildered) I’ve missed out on a lot.

LANA: (sighs) That you have.

“I am a writer. Therefore, I am not sane.”

― Edgar Allan Poe

Author
Time
 (Edited)

Lately I’ve begun experiencing “purist pangs”, and now I’m considering changing Kara/Linda into a different female Kryptonian unrelated to Supergirl. Just a heads-up.

“I am a writer. Therefore, I am not sane.”

― Edgar Allan Poe

Author
Time
 (Edited)

Finished the latest set of touch-ups to the script. They are as follow:

  • Krypton is now identified as Krypton (figured keeping the planet’s name a mystery was pointless)
  • Kara/Linda has been changed to Luma-Lyn (a character inspired by Luma Lynai)
  • Mrs. Bogdanove is now Miss Maggin
  • Lana’s mother’s name has been changed from Carol to Sarah (the character’s name pre-Crisis)
  • Lana’s father’s name has been changed from Thomas to Lewis (ditto)
  • Nell’s name has been changed to Helen (the character’s name post-Crisis)
  • Removed Luthor’s scenes (I’ve decided to place his introduction in Act II instead)

I’ve also decided to retool my original plot somewhat. I’ve decided against making Luthor a military officer; I’ll be making him a weapons scientist/defense conglomerate magnate instead. Also, Brainiac won’t be making an appearance; a different character will serve as secondary antagonist (I won’t reveal who just yet).

My apologies for these disorienting changes.

“I am a writer. Therefore, I am not sane.”

― Edgar Allan Poe

Author
Time

INT. HELEN’S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET

Seated in a spacious armchair, Helen reaches for the candlestick telephone on the stand beside her. Lifting the receiver from the switch hook, she dials a number.

INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET

After long seconds of ringing, Jonathan enters the kitchen and strides up to the wood-panelled wall telephone.

JONATHAN: (answers phone) Jonathan here.

INT. HELEN’S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET

HELEN: (smiles) Dearest Jonathan.

INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET

JONATHAN: (frowns) Who’s this?

INT. HELEN’S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET

HELEN: (wry) I’m surprised at you. Granted, it’s been a spell. But so long as to forget the voice of your oldest, closest friend?

INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET

JONATHAN: (stern) Helen.

INT. HELEN’S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET

HELEN: You remember!

INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET

JONATHAN: If you’re calling after Clark, he isn’t available.

INT. HELEN’S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET

HELEN: Oh, you’ll do. Quite nicely.

INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET

JONATHAN: How may I help you today, Hel?

INT. HELEN’S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET

HELEN: Clark and I’ve spent quite the amount of time together. So much time, I wake some mornings thinking I’m Mrs. Helen Kent. (chuckles) Thanksgiving’s fast approaching. I’ll be hosting a dinner. I’ve invited my sister and her family. While I know Clark isn’t family, it simply wouldn’t do to exclude him and his from the festivities.

INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET

JONATHAN: I don’t think so, Helen.

INT. HELEN’S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET

HELEN: (sighs) I suppose I can call back later; perhaps Martha’ll be available to pick up the line. Or perhaps I’ll drive out to your quaint, picturesque property and pay your wife a personal visit. (beat) We have much to discuss, she and I, and I can be quite the chatterbox. (malicious) Quite the chatterbox.

INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET

Jonathan doesn’t speak a word.

INT. HELEN’S HOME/PARLOUR — SUNSET

HELEN: And don’t forget to include your niece. Clark has told me all about her; I’m simply perishing to meet the perfect dear.

INT. KENT HOME/KITCHEN — SUNSET

The line goes dead.

FADE OUT

END CREDITS

“I am a writer. Therefore, I am not sane.”

― Edgar Allan Poe

Author
Time

I’ve come to realize that I have too much story to fit comfortably inside a trilogy of feature-length screenplays, so I’ve decided to retool my Superman trilogy into a three-season series instead. Everything from the destruction of Krypton to the development of Clark’s powers is Episode 1, everything from Labor Day weekend to Jonathan’s phone conversation with Helen is Episode 2, and I imagine a minimum of five further episodes to follow, bringing Season 1 to a close.

“I am a writer. Therefore, I am not sane.”

― Edgar Allan Poe