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Cark Kent confronts Cam Newton over his misleading and potentially actionable nickname (and other stories)

Idea 1:

     Carolina Panthers beat writer Clark Kent confronts star QB Cam Newton on his 'Superman' nickname. Questions include: "Have you ever flown so fast that you turned the Earth back on its axis? Oh wait, you've never even flown have you? Never felt the wind rushing through your hair or experienced the giddy lightheadedness that comes with breathing in non-ionized atoms of sodium at 340,000 feet. Well I guess that makes two of us.", "So tell me Cam, if you are, indeed, 'faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, [and] able to leap tall buildings in a single bound' why are the Panthers 3-9?", and, "If you look at sidline reporter Lois Lane like that again, I will kick your behind from here to Metrop—errr New York."

Idea 2:

     Gorging himself in gloom; no love was lost. At first he festered in the gloom, in the loveless void, but he came to love the lack of love. And, if it was not love that he felt, he treated it very much like he'd treated past loves. He wallowed in it. He embraced it. He threw out his arms wider and wider, and reached around and engulfed the gloom ever more completely. And each time he reached farther, the gloom expanded to fill the space. Until it was everywhere.

     The gloom was jealous, though there was no man or thing to challenge its position. This jealousy ate at the man and soon his arms didn't stretch quite so far. But it didn't matter because the gloom kept pace, and shrank with him.

     One day an old friend called. "Where have you been?" he said. "Why don't I see you anymore?" he said.

     The gloom, tiny in the diminished man's arms, started. It rocked and snarled against the man's chest. When the man's friend reached out and put his hand on the man's shoulder, the gloom yipped. Its yipping was quieter than a peach dropping on a bed of feathers so nobody noticed.  The gloom jumped straight up and sank its teeth right into the man's friend's thumb knuckle. It lodged there for a long second but when the thumb moved the gloom tumbled back down toward's the man's chest, where it couldn't find purchase, and fell all the way to the floor. The holes its two front teeth had made in the thumb knuckle were no more noticeable than the tiny wrinkles that were already there. The man and his friend laughed and went to get a drink.

     Left to its own devices the gloom roiled with rage. Its pea-sized body shook with watermelon-sized fury. It raved and ranted and... cooled. It stopped bouncing like a kernel in a frying pan. It stopped and it thought. It thought, "Why, if after all the time I've spent with him he just runs off with another man, do I want him back? What does that say about me?" The gloom checked its logic. It added up. So it went and packed up its tiny matching four-piece set of Louis Vuitton luggage and left.

     Last I heard, it had met a lovely fruit bat and the two were living happily together.

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