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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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What else could I do?
Oh, I'm not blaming you. I just know me. I'd be jealous. Jealous of . . . of all humanity. Some rival, huh?
Lois, someday
Please don't tell me "You'll find somebody else someday." Cause . . . . . . well, you are a pretty hard act to follow, you'll have to admit that. Oh, I'll get by, don't worry about me.
I like worrying about you.
See what happens when I don't have my orange juice? The human body is only a workable, fairly fragile machine when you treat it with the same respect you'd show to . . . gee . . .
Take it easy. Take a deep breath.
I'm fine. . . . . . What was I talking about? Before?
. . . Superman?. . . . .
Lois, I really don't see why
Clark, stop feeling so threatened every time you hear his name. Nobody expects you to be what you're not.
I'll try to remember that . . .
Well, you should. Because I appreciate you, too, you know.
You do?
Sure. Especially if you'd be a really terrific guy and bring me a cheeseburger to go
Everything on it?
Everything on it.
Jimmy, how's the
Yeah. I'll check.
Anybody been hurt?
So far the hostages are unharmed.
Hostages?
Tourists, about twenty of 'em.
Are you okay?
She'll be fine.
That's what I want to know! By whom? Whom????
Get a hold of yourself, Vera. Nobody else ever will.
I don't kiss.
Oh, right. Well then, just shake hands.
Vulcan is the weather satellite our government put up in orbit to monitor the weather.
But if somebody reprogrammed it, it could do much more.
It could make weather!
Storms! Floods!
Blizzards! Heat waves!
Computers talk to other computers, right?
Somehow your twisted little mind should be able to figure out how to tap into the main computer at the Aerospace Center and reach Vulcan.
She's not his mama either.
Gus Gorman, this is my Psychic Nutritionist.
Someplace where nobody knows him so they can't connect him with us.
Well, Webco has a hundred and twelve subsidiaries and every one of them is tied to our central computer system. How about...hmmmm, someplace small...
You mean...you mean...Vera! Vera! The magnitude of this!!!
Today coffee
TOMORROW THE OIL!
Small potatoes.
We already have a supertanker.
Chicken feed. If Gus Gorman can push the right buttons
I could have it all! Holy cats! All the oil! All the tankers! All the pumps! The goshdarn world will be out to lunch! No heat, no gassis, this is some nifty idea!
He ruined it! That lousy dogooder, he ruined it.
Don't cry, Bubba.
Nice try, Butch, but it wouldn't be effective against Superman. You'll see! Now that he's pulled this stunt, he'll stick his nose in my oil scheme and ruin that one, too! I've got to get rid of him! I've got to!
How? Shoot him? You know about him and bullets. Not to mention knives, tanks, bombs...
Wait a minute! She's right! Kryptonite. I remember reading about it in an interview with him. Nuts...
What's wrong?
I just remembered the rest. There isn't any more. The only chunk that ever landed on Earth disappeared a couple of years ago. It was in this story in the Daily Planet.
Where did it come from?
The planet Superman came from. Krypton.
So?
So all we've got to do is pick up the garbage. We just have to find our where in Heaven Krypton used to be. Then good old Gus here contacts the Vulcan satellite
Don't you see? Okay, so you didn't kill him. Nobody's perfect. But that stuff we ran up in the lab wasn't a complete failure after all. Right after Gus gave it to him, Superman started to turn into a selfish, ornery, malicious, conniving...
A normal person.
And now that Superman's out of the Nice Guy business...
We can get to work on that oil!
That's it! The last tanker! They're all mine now! All...
Not quite. What is that in the lower right hand corner?
Come on, let's give it a dry run.
Wait for Gus to get here, sis.
Who needs Gus?
He's the only one who can operate this
Like fish he is. I know enough about computers to put a PHD to shame. Come now, brother dear, you didn't think I was going to let that little man run the show, did you? Gus Gorman telling us what to do I'd sooner kiss a pig!
He's coming! He's going to hurt me!
Don't bet on it!
Yes! This time we got it right!
It's your genius, pal! You built a machine that can find anybody's weak spot, just like you said.
85,000 dollars.
Missing????
Embezzled, Mr. Webster. Stolen from the firm.
I don't know who. Whom. I can't trace it. In the old days it was simple. We kept books, we had ledgers, we could see what was going in and what was paid out. If somebody wanted to rob you, he'd come in with a gun and say 'stick 'em up." Now they get theses blasted computers to do their dirty work!
My friend, you are yesterday. Whoever pulled this caper is tomorrow.
Now, Vera...uh, Simpson, you know my Staff Dietician?
Hello.
Well, chum? What now? Kiss the 85 thou goodbye? Pay some thief's salary while he thinks up new ways to shake the money tree?
He's bound to slip up sooner or later.
Mr. White, please, it's time for you to draw this month's winning JINGO number. The prize is an allexpenses trip to South America.
Why can't the idiot in Circulation who dreamed up this imbecile contest in the first place
Because you're the EditorinChief. Your integrity is unquestioned. LOIS I have a question.
53.
53!
Okay? Goodbye.
You've got to pick three more numbers.
Mr. White, the next number, please?
How'm I supposed to turn this thing?
By hand. Like the pioneers did.
Couldn't we just get a computer to do this?
Mr. White, you be in this shot, handing them their plane tickets.
Why do I have to do this?
It's modern. It's uptodate. It's stateofthe art. People, I am in love with this machine. Go ahead, Mr. White.
Where's the handle?
There is no handle! You just push a button.
Ross, honey, it's time for your massage...
Bubba, does this woman have the right to burst in without knocking...!