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The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMANStories of the Silver Age (Part Four)
Oh, dear, sweet Jesus.
Lex Luthor happily shackled in sweet, semi-matrimonial bliss.
Lex Luthor a crusading, turn-of-the-century newspaper editor.
Lex Luthor in skintight spandex, even.
This one is almost certainly going to take two full pages of the patented
"Unca Cheeks Treatment" to do up right, by golly, by jingo. 
"Luthor -- Super-Hero!" [SUPERMAN #168; April, 1964; author unaccredited; Curt Swan, artist] opens up with a shot of the happy (and moderately brain damaged) denizens of the very same planet which Lex Luthor had visited once before, in SUPERMAN #164's "The Showdown Between Luthor and Superman!"
"Yes, child," a smiling father assures his son (both of whom are gadding about in honest-to-Joan-Crawford dresses, by the by; sort of a cross between STAR TREK and THE BOYS IN THE BAND, you might say). "Mighty Lex Luthor discovered the lost science of our ancestors, and turned our barren planet into a world of plenty!"
"That's why we named our planet Lexor," said child chirrups, in cheery
conclusion; "... in his honor!" And that's pretty much it,
by way of Past Plot Exposition, actually. (Silver Age DC comics just barreled
right along, you see; sorta like a three-bean burrito dinner through
the colon of the late John Candy, by and large.)
Meanwhile the familiar blue-and-red clad figure of You-Know-Who is shown rocketing towards the aforementioned planet Gigi, in a vintage 1960's spaceship.
"Luthor must be returned to the prison from which Brainiac helped him escape," a grim-visaged Man of Steel muses; "... but it will be a tough job... for on this world of a red sun, I have no super-powers! And Luthor is a hero here, whereas I, his enemy, am detested! I'll have to use extreme care!"
... and, speaking of "extreme care" that's (obviously) pretty much what Lexorian babe-ola and Designated Plaything Numero Uno Ardora wants to take with hairless heartbreaker Luthor, in order to make certain he doesn't skedaddle from the planet without Doing the Nasty, first.
"... but you've already worked long hours here, Luthor!" an all-but-
drooling Ardora husks throatily; tugging him inexorably towards massive four-poster bed she's already wheeled into the far corner of the room. "Surely the work can wait?"
"I may have little time, Ardora," a sweating Luthor responds; laboring over yet another of the Lexorians' long-neglected super-scientific devices. "Sooner or later, Superman will come here from Earth, looking for me."
"Superman!" Ardora wails, gripping a can of ReadiWhip in one hand and dangling a pair of stainless steel handcuffs in front of Luthor's nose with the other. "Even to hear his name makes me shiver! Why does he pursue you and persecute you so... when you're so fine and noble?"
"It's a long story, Ardora," Luthor purrs; taking a moment to spray the heavy-breathing honey with a convenient firehose. "... too long for now! Run along, and I'll see you later!"
A sulky and disappointed Ardora sashays her way unsteadily from the room on six-inch "take me" stiletto heels; leaving a smirking Luthor to observe, inwardly [Pick One]:
A.) "She loves me... the people here idolize me... because I've done things for them! Now, if I can use the ancient science of this world to give myself artificial super-powers, I can keep Superman from spoiling my paradise here!"
B.) [hungrily eyeing Ardora's retreating hinder] "... mmmmMMM. Oh, yeah, baby... gonna get me some o' dat, tonight. Who's yo' daddy, then? Who's yo' hot'n'hairless DADDY --?!?"
C.) [hungrily eyeing Ardora's retreating hinder] "... hmmmm... that reminds me. I haven't given Muh-Muh-Mother a call yet this week." [touches himself, distracted] "... mmmmmmMotherrrrrrrrrrr... !"
D.) [hungrily eyeing Ardora's retreating hinder] "I'd look
ten times cuter in that outfit than she does. Especially
with those hips. Heifer."
While all of this is going on, however the Man of Steel (for reasons your Unca Cheeks doesn't drink nearly enough to feel fully capable of explicating, sans several hours and some hand puppets) sneaks his way into Lexor's brand spanking-new "Luthor museum," by posing as a wax dummy of himself.
Fine. Fine. Go ahead and bring me those hand puppets,
then.
"Each family is now bringing its gift for Luthor," one of the wide-eyed and adoring visitors rhapsodizes; "... the priceless rainbow crystals, which are the greatest treasures of Lexor!"
"Each family of Lexor has, for centuries, prized its collection of rainbow crystals!" one of his nearby fellows soliloquizes, in turn. "... but they give them up gladly, in order to honor Luthor!"
"The magnificent rays of these crystals have lighted our homes for generations," the first patron continues; unwilling to give up in his own attempt to win, place or show in the Third Annual Lexorian Pointless Plot Exposition Contest and Bake-Off. "... ever since they were dug up, long ago! It's our gift, to great Luthor!"
Said crystals are, apparently, the gift that keeps on giving, so far as any stray, hapless Kryptonians are concerned; since a quick, two second exposure to the coruscating and unfathomable energies of same transmogrify an unsuspecting Superman from Man of Steel to Shoplifter of Steel.
Unfortunately for Our Kryptonian Klepto, however the sweating and eager Ardora elects to enter the room just at that very moment, in search of a little Earth-born bing-bam-boom...
... and runs shrieking from said room, in bug-eyed terror, upon
espying The Big Blue Boy Scout absconding with the planet's collective "family
jewels."
"In the museum," the hysterical hottie brays and sobs in front of a gaggle of duly consternated passers-by. "It's the evil Superman!"
Quickly lobbing a handy waxworks replica of himself out a nearby window and into a conveniently placed canal, Superman manages to elude the inevitable baying mob by but scant heartbeats.
Demonstrating, meanwhile, that its not necessarily idle hands which are most ideally suited to doing the Devil's work dat li'l rascal Luthor has cunningly hot-wired one of Lexor's many and varied alien geegaws, in order that he might bestow upon himself the same awe-inspiring panoply of super-powers as those enjoyed by Big Blue, his own bad self.
"It works!" a gleeful Luthor exults. "I'm charged with super-strength, speed, x-ray vision, and invulnerability! But wait... with my super- hearing, I can hear someone coming!" (Now, that's what I call super-
hearing, by golly -- !)
Said "someone" turns out to be a panic-stricken Ardora; whom practically everyone on the planet has heard coming, at one time or another.
"... and he's here on Lexor!" the breathless babe bleats. "Superman... your evil enemy!"
"If I use my super-powers openly," Luthor muses; "... some day enemies of mine might try to threaten me by holding Ardora hostage! I'd better -- " [Pick One]:
A.) "... adopt a new identity while using my super-powers!"
B.) "... foil their plans... by taking her hostage first!"
C.) "... foil their plans... by taking myself hostage!"
D.) "... get that "Hunky But Lonely Earth Guy" personal ad placed
in the next available edition of THE LEXOR NEWS GAZETTE... muy pronto!"
Okay, now... quick show of hands, people:
Anybody here really wanna see the bald, paunchy guy tarted up in cape; skullcap; and skintight spandex...?
I am so very, very disappointed in the whole scruffy, smarmy lot
of you.
Taking to the Lexorian skies much in the same fashion as one of the oversized balloons in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, the planet's portly protector calmly initiates a search for his blue-garbed nemesis.
"You can call me the Defender," Luthor announces, to the awe-struck crowds gaping and pointing below; "... because I'll defend you from invading outlaws like Superman! I'll help you find him!"
This, the self-styled "Defender" promptly does, by utilizing his mind-
boggling array of super-powers to locate the Man of Steel, cowering behind
a big statue.
"Please," a desperate and panicky Superman pleads with his alien captors, preparatory to being tossed unceremoniously into the nearest hoosegow. "Let me explain -- !"
"Who would believe you, evil one?" comes the derisively snorted reply. "The Defender, whoever he is, did a great feat in capturing you! And the robot-guard -- one of the robots great Luthor rebuilt from our ancient science -- will keep you safely in jail!"
"Who is that mysterious 'Defender,' who has super-powers?" a plainly befuddled Man of Steel ponders, whilst languishing in alien durance vile; convincingly demonstrating -- for good and for all -- that super-
intelligence is NOT one of the standard Kryptonian "gifts," God wot.
Meanwhile -- in one of those endearingly heavy-handed examples of four-color "irony" so dearly beloved by the various authors and editors of the Silver Age SUPERMAN-related titles -- Luthor is fending off a potentially embarrassing line of inquiry from a bright-eyed and persistent Ardora.
"Hmmmm," Luthor's inter-stellar sweetums puzzles, peering at her alien honeybunch. "The Defender was heading this way when he flew off... and you, the greatest scientist on Lexor, look flustered! I wonder...!"
... because... y'see... it's s'posed to be oh-so-eerily reminiscent of that whole Lois-Lane-suspecting-nebbishy-Clark-Kent-is-really-Superman business said scriveners got so much fershlugginer mileage out of, back in the four-color day.
Because it's all... whaddyacallit... ironic, like.
Shifting the storytelling pebble from one ham fist to another, then we return our stunned attentions to the incarcerated Man of Steel, doing his very best Burt Lancaster impersonation (a la THE BIRDMAN OF ALCATRAZ).
Roping the lumbering robot guard with a lariat crudely fashioned from his own cape, the Man of Steel manages to effect an escape as far-
fetched as any ever showcased in the old Saturday morning animated cartoon,
THE PERILS OF PENELOPE PITTSTOP.
It doesn't take long, however, for even this silly planet's Keystone Konstabulary to notice the great, whopping hole where the prison's barred window used to be; and the appropriate alarums and klaxons are quickly and duly sounded, ASAP.
Why... this looks like a job for... for...
... for the mighty DeFENderrrrrrrrrr -- !
Responding with heroic alacrity and dispatch to the Defender-Signal flashing across the nighttime skies, Luthor bolts from his super-secret Defender Cave in his atomic-powered DefenderMobile; and...
... okay. Maybe not, then.
"At last," a greedy and self-satisfied Superman chortles; retrieving a heaping satchel crammed fit to bursting with rainbow crystals, which he'd deviously (re-)programmed the robot guard to filch on his behalf. "I have the rainbow crystals, now... and can get them away from this world!"
"You're rejoicing a little too soon, Superman!" a noble and resolute voice bellows, from off-panel; causing a startled Man of Steel to whirl about towards a rocketing, steely-eyed and crimson-clad figure, in turn, and exclaim [Pick One]:
A.) "The Defender! YOU -- !"
B.) "The Flash! YOU -- !"
C.) "John Byrne! YOU -- !"
D.) "Satan! YOU -- !"
E.) "Unca Cheeks! YOU -- !"
"Yes," the balding brawler coolly replies; "... and here, where I have super-powers, and you have none, I'm going to destroy you, Superman! But before I do... allow me the pleasure of revealing who it is that ends your career!"
"Luthor!" a goggle-eyed Superman cries, as the Defender whips off his
mask. "Then it was you all the time!" (Finally realizing
that -- say -- the fact that his opponent has been speaking fluent English
all this time, AND has this big, honkin' letter "D" on his William
Frawley-like chest may actually have been honest-to-Batman clues
of some sort, in retrospect.)
Just before a smirking Luthor can carve the sweating, backpedaling Superman into so much Kryptonian sushi, however the Man of Steel manages to rasp out a last minute warning that he bears important knowledge; and that "It... *choke*... concerns the good of your people here on... *gasp*... Lexor!"
It seems that those much-coveted Lexorian "rainbow crystals" -- in addition to being Real Doggoned Purty, Lahk -- continually emit "subtle rays [...] which act to slow the brain's electroencephalic action, and dull the intelligence!" Explaining, then (in theory, at any rate; since they can't possibly all be first cousins) how and why the Lexorians managed to descend all the way down the slippery mental slope from Super-
Scientific Genius to General Communal Knuckle-Dragging and Mouth-
Breathing, overall.
"To get those baleful crystals away from my people," Luthor grudgingly relents; "... I'll let you go free! But you must promise to destroy them... and not betray the Defender's identity! But remember our feud isn't ended!"
Superman readily assents to all of this (geez... anything to get his bruised and bleeding hinder the holy blue heck outta there, at this point); and -- whilst disposing of the pernicious rainbow crystals in the nuclear fires of our own solar system's friendly yellow sun -- solemnly swears, inwardly:
"... and then I'll return to Earth, and plan to go back to Lexor to have it out with Luthor! Our feud will never end, until he's brought to justice!"
... at which juncture, we'll take leave of our two perpetually squabbling protagonists; only to return, fourteen days from now, where we'll examine Part Two of this issue's saga; in which the cunning and ruthless Luthor reveals his top secret, super-dee-duper Master Plan El Deluxe-O to eliminate that pesky Supermanm once and for all, by --
... ummmmm... welllllll... becoming the Editor-In-Chief of The Daily Planet, actually.
No. Seriously. Unca Cheeks means it, now.
Back here in fourteen, people... and see for yourselves.
"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE ONE
"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE TWO
"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE THREE
"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE FIVE
"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE SIX
"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE SEVEN
"The Thirteen All-Time Coolest SUPERMAN Stories Ever" PAGE EIGHT
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