Chapter 2

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Several people have mentioned that Harley is in fact immune to Ivy's poisons, which I didn't know, but it's a minor issue so I won't go correcting it. Lets just say that Ivy lied about that :P.

Other than that, I think I've already replied to all the reviews that needed replying. If I missed someone, then I apologize and invite you to PM me if you have questions.

With that out of the way, lets get to the actual chapter.

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Clark Kent, also known as Superman, was awoken from his sleep by one of the couch cushin's sailing towards his head. He instinctively deflected it without really knowing what it was and surged to his feet in a ready stance, facing whatever enemy had attacked him in his home.

Still not fully awake, he assessed his attacker.

Female, white hair, dusky complexion, slitted red eyes, horns, taller than him and dressed in a manner that somehow managed to be both extremely provocative and highly dignified simultaneously.

"It's about time you woke up, I've been standing here, watching you drool into your pillow for the past 5 minutes. How did a meathead like you even survive to adulthood, much less become known as the strongest man alive?" Her voice would have been quite beautiful and melodious if it wasn't for the metaphoric acid dripping off her tongue.

"Wha?" He responded intelligently, completely off balanced. He had no idea how this demonic looking woman had managed to sneak into his apartment without waking him, not to mention that his brain was only now catching on to the fact that she apparently knew that he was Superman. Top that off with her insulting demeanor and you got one very befuddled superhero.

" 'Wha?' indeed you slack jawed monkey. Honestly, if this is what I'm supposed to rely on for aid, then I might as well just abandon hope."

Clark managed to get some of his wits about him and tried to salvage the situation. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm afraid you have the wrong person, I'm just a reporter."

"Of course you are, because it's normal for reporters to not panic when a horned woman breaks into their home. Not to mention that a pair of glasses is truly a disguise worthy of being recorded in song for the sheer genius of it. With such masterful camouflage, I can clearly see how you've managed to keep your identity secret from the hordes of retarded frog-monkeys infesting this world."

Clark could feel his face and ears burning from the merciless verbal assault, the caustically sarcastic tone harsh enough to burn a hole through solid rock. Nobody had ever taken him to task quite like that before. Personally he'd always though that his disguise was pretty clever, a hiding in plain sight type of thing.

Clearly, this strange woman considered it the height of idiocy.

Either way, it was obviously pointless to try keeping up the charade.

"Alright, you got me, I'm Superman. Might I have your name?" He said in his most charismatic manner and offered his hand, hoping to get the conversation away from things that would trigger her razor sharp tongue.

He didn't miss that she bore a remarkable similarity to Uzu, whom he knew to be Batman's latest problem in Gotham. Clark had offered to help, but Bruce could be quite stubborn about not accepting help when dealing with Gotham's problems. The League was still relatively new, so hopefully his bat themed colleague would eventually get used to the idea of cooperation on more than just the bigger issues.

Trolling the League by NoodlehammerOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora