Well, I'll Be A Kryptonian's Uncle

by Paul-Gabriel Wiener <pgwfolc@netscape.net>

Rated: G

Submitted: March 2003

Another silly little gagfic. Hopefully worth at least a   chuckle or two. Thanks to my BRs (in alphabetical order :)   ) Anna Belcher, Carol Malo, and Jana Officer, without whom   this fic would had have fewer laughs and a lot more   mistakes. They also voted unanimously in favor of my   posting this fic, so you can thank them or blame them as   you see fit. <g>

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"Hey, there," a greasy rolling tenor called out from the   air. "Kal-El, right?"

Superman whirled around to face the man who was, quite   impossibly, waiting right behind him, hovering a thousand feet off the ground. Even more impossible was the floating   stranger's apparent identity. "You're... you're..."

"I'm your uncle, Vis-El."

"My uncle? But... how?"

"Your father, Jor-El, was my brother."

"But you look just like..."

"Oh, I am," he replied with a smile and his trademark sneer.

"That's not possible!"

"Surely you've noticed the family resemblance before. The greased hair? The tight clothes? The irresistibly good   looks? The predilection for capes? I'll bet people consider your taste in food odd, too."

"Wait. I've seen the tapes. You used to sweat. A lot.   Kryptonians don't sweat."

"We can if we want to. It would have looked funny if I hadn't."

"I suppose. What about the weight, then? Kryptonians don't gain weight."

"Oh, that. Yeah."

He looked embarrassed, an expression Clark had never seen on him on any of the old movies or tapes... if it really   was him.

"Well," the man who claimed to be his uncle explained, "one night I got stung by a hard-headed woman. I asked her to love me and to treat me nice, but she had a suspicious mind. She said I talked in my sleep, and she thought Marie was the name of my latest flame. I told her Marie was like a little sister to me. I said 'I want you, I need you, I   love you. Any way you want me to be, that's how I will be, but I beg of you, don't leave me lonesome tonight.' She   didn't believe me, though, and when she found this strange rock, she didn't hesitate to use it...."

"Kryptonite? Kryptonite doesn't make you... fat."

"Maybe not the green stuff, but there are other kinds. The rock she found was red, with yellow arches."

"So, when they found you, and thought you were dead...?"

"I was sick. After all that time, it was just too much."

"I... see. What happened after that?"

"I woke up after they buried me. That wasn't pleasant, let me tell you. I'd been away from her little... good luck charm long enough to recover, but it took longer without sunlight. I got myself out, smoothed over the grave, and wandered off. I heard crying in the chapel, but it wasn't her. I knew it was time to go our separate ways. It wasn't long before I figured out that my old life was over. Not that it was the best, at that point. I knew no one would believe me, and I was done with fame and fortune. So, I became a drifter. Took odd jobs here and there, tried to keep a low profile. When the tabloids caught up with me, I'd move on."

"So, those stories...."

"Most of them were true, yeah."

"What about the ones with the babies?"

"Aw, no. I wouldn't leave kids."

"You had a daughter."

"Yeah. Good kid."

"Wait... she doesn't have any powers, does she?"

"No, no powers. Just a hankering for strange alien creatures."

Clark chuckled at the description. "So, she's your only child?"

"Sure. I was careful. Besides, do you know how hard it is to find Kryptrillium on Earth?"

"Kryptrillium?"

"You know, the mineral Kryptonian men have to eat to become... fertile?"

"There's... a mineral?"

"Oh, man. Your daddy didn't tell you about Kryptrillium?   That's cold."

"Uh, yeah. You said there is some on Earth?"

"Well, I brought some with me, in my spaceship."

"Your spaceship?"

"Well, yeah. How'd you think I got here, boy-o?"

"I was wondering."

"I used your dad's ship. It was the prototype for the one he sent you in."

"Why did you leave?"

"I had the calling. I needed to be a minstrel, but there was no way for a noble of the house of El to be a minstrel.   I had to follow that dream. So, I packed my bags, renounced my claims, and hit the spaceways. Always thought I'd be   back some day, but then your daddy found out the planet was coming apart, and, well, I couldn't get back in time to   help. He sent you off in your ship, and I never found out you were here until I saw you on TV, flying around with the   family shield on your chest."

"So, you really are my uncle. Wow."

"Yeah. It's good to have family again, Kal."

"Family. I'll have to take you to meet my parents."

"Jor-El and Lara? They're here?"

"No. I'm sorry. My Earth parents. The ones who raised me."

"Oh, o'course. You came here as a baby. You were adopted?"

"Yeah, by the best parents I could hope for."

"That's great, Kal. I'm glad you had someone. Jor-El and   Lara would have been happy."

"Yeah.... I still can't believe you're my uncle. Not just that I have an uncle, but that it's *you*..."

"Well, hey, there. You're a celebrity, too. Runs in the family, huh?"

"I guess. So why did you change your name?"

"Well, I figured Vis-El would stick out a bit on Earth.   Wasn't much just to turn it backwards."

Clark chuckled. "Guess not. Hey, I'm going to have take you to meet my boss. He's your biggest fan."

"A fan, huh? Hey, that's great. But whaddya mean, your boss? You're Superman!"

"Oh, yeah. Well, Superman is kind of a secret identity, so I can use my powers while still having a normal life. It   keeps my parents safe, too."

"A secret identity? Good idea. Wish I'd thought of that."

"Took me a while to figure it out."

"I'm glad you did. Otherwise, I might never have found   you."

"Yeah. So, you want to come meet my boss?"

"Well, sure. After that, how about we fly to Vegas?"

"Vegas?"

"That's one place I always fit in. Don't have to worry about the tabloids spotting me there."

"You've got a point there," Clark agreed, laughing.

"Maybe when we get there, we can work on that outfit of yours."

Clark looked down at his Superman uniform. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, add some flare. Put on some sequins, make that family crest shine! Maybe some rhinestones here and there for sparkle...."

"I... think I'll pass. My mom made this for me, and I like it as it is."

"If you say so." Vis-El shrugged, but, a moment later, his eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam. "I wonder what the   world would think if they knew Superman's momma still dressed him...."

"Hey!" Clark searched for a proper retort, but, when his uncle burst out laughing, Clark couldn't help but join in.   When the laughter settled down a little while later, Clark once again suggested visiting Perry.

"I'm always happy to meet a fan," his uncle replied with a smile and a flamboyant gesture.

"This is going to be great."

Clark led the way to the Daily Planet building, but left his uncle hovering outside. Vis-El didn't want to be seen by a whole newsroom. Awed murmurs heralded Superman's arrival at Perry White's office.

"Superman! What can I do for you?"

"This time, Mr. White, it's what I can do for you. Can we talk in private?"

"Certainly, Son, but call me Perry." The two walked into   Perry's office, and he carefully closed the door. "So, what   did you want to talk to me about?"

"I want to introduce you to someone."

"Introduce me... you know Alice and I are back together, right?"

"Yes, Mr. White, and I'm happy for you. No, I want to introduce you to a relative of mine. He's not ready to be back in the public eye, but I thought you'd want to meet him."

"I didn't know you had any relatives. I thought you were the last of your kind."

"So did I, until he introduced himself today."

"And you're sure you're related?"

"Well, he did introduce himself a thousand feet off the ground...."

"Yeah, that would make it more likely...."

"I guess I shouldn't keep him waiting any longer." So saying, the hero went to the window and let his uncle fly in.

"Hey, there. I hear you're a fan. Well, I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you very much."

"Great shades of -" Perry cut himself off, suddenly realizing that the exclamation was inappropriate - or, perhaps, *too* appropriate - for the occasion. "Uhm, that   is...." He sat back in his chair, for once at a complete loss for words. He couldn't even resort to one of his trusted anecdotes.

Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by a loud buzzing sound.

Clark pried open weary eyelids and fumbled for the alarm clock. What a weird dream that had been! As the weary hero tried to get himself reoriented to the waking world, he tried to figure out where the dream had come from. There had been a hurricane down in Tampa, he remembered.  Fortunately, given the size of the storm, there had been   plenty of warning. Most of the people had fled or found safe shelter in time. Even so, there had been plenty to do.   He'd worked with the disaster relief teams, trying to rescue the injured, clean up debris, and reinforce damaged   buildings. He had worked himself nearly to exhaustion, which might account for the strange dreams, but wherever   had his mind come up with... ?

Suddenly, he remembered. The hurricane had hit, among other   places, the warehouse district. A building full of tabloid newspapers had been ripped open, the... inventive pages strewn about the city. Everywhere he'd gone, headlines like "Elvis is an alien, and he's working at a local diner!" had screamed out at him from the rubble. Then there had been that one really odd story about Elvis having been found alive in Louisiana. It had been a confused tangle of a yarn about other dimensions, Elvis being president, some kind of cloning scheme, and something Clark hadn't quite understood about frogs growing really well in the swamps....

Clark shook his head. Where had they come up with this stuff? In any case, it did explain things. His subconscious   must have picked up on it, and woven the ideas into his dreams.

Slowly, the weary hero got himself ready for work. Still   chuckling over the dream, he whispered into the wind.   "Don't step on my red leather boots, Uncle Elvis."

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