DEEP THOUGHTS: Superman and his bitch

A couple of days ago I asked on Twitter:

Superman. Lois Lane. Can they pop a kid?

Here’s the results of the poll:

Seems decisive.

It’s the question that pubescent boys and sexually repressed men have been asking since time immemorial(ca. 1978.) Just what would happen if Supes and Ms. Lane played plug in the hair curler? It turns out that the majority of voters agree with me and have great taste in comedy.

Nine percent said “Nah, son.” These are the no-nonsense peeps. This is also probably the most realistic answer. The fact is that Superman and Lois Lane are different species. A cat and dog cannot make a cog, and a Superman and Lois Lane cannot make a… Super Lane? Anyway…

In reality, Superman may not even be humanoid, let alone a hunky piece of white male ass. Even if he WAS something cute enough (or Lois was drunk enough) to hit, the undoubtedly vast difference in physiology and DNA structure would prevent babyage.

…Except when it’s boring.

Another nine percent said “DUH!” and got their nerd rage on. This is justified. After all, the 2006 movie Superman Returns explains to us that not only did Superman and Lois crush it, but the booty call resulted in an asthmatic weakling boy with the creative name of Jason(spoilers for a thirteen-year-old movie, I guess.)

Of course, this movie also has Superman being a moody douche that abandoned everyone for a number of years. That’s not to mention that the big-bad in the film is an irradiated land mass. That, coupled with the fact that most red-blooded Americans have tried to repress the memory of this film make this weak proof at best.

The second-highest chosen response was “Sure.” They most likely just wanted to participate/see the answers. I question their commitment to the scientific rigorousness of this poll, but value their opinion nonetheless.

The 18 Percent.

The big winner this time around, with a crushing sixty-four percent of the vote, was DEATH BY SNU SNU! I mean, because duh, right? Just think about it…

You got the candles, the Warren G, the fact you’re Superman… It’s time to take dainty Lois to Pound Town. The problem is that I can only see this going one of two ways. Our superhero could be extremely careful and go extra gentle, inexorably leading to proof that not every part of Superman is bulletproof. If you get my meaning. Flaccid. His man of steel would be flaccid.

OR.

Superman would lean into his darkest, dirtiest desires and go at it faster than a speeding locomotive. At worst? A puddle of bloody mashed potatoes where there used to be an attractive naked woman. At best?

Worth it.

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