Blaaaaaaaaaah.
...I have four pages of what might be the beginning to Uncle Squishy's Sunshine Hour sitting right here.

(It also might be the beginning of something else...could go either way at this point. It's a pretty generic opening.)

Seriously. It's in my Superman notebook and it's staring at me.

I just don't feel like typing.

...the notes in the margins--the ones that aren't random doodles--are amusing.

Notes to self in the margins, and I quote:

Soupy, Boom Tubes, Darkseid,

Bake Sale, Magic Brownies!

Firefly, Blow Torch, Torch Singer?

Super-Bra!

What's the equivalant of a citronella candle for Killer Moth/Firefly?

Bug zappers! Can we have giant bug zappers? Or fly swatters?

Hug therapy? Villainess stuck in hug therapy with a horn-dog villain?

....

And there's one bit of this four page scribbling that I actually have the energy to type. Just because it amuses me.

"Techie, we have weapons. You have weapons. You didn't need to hurl footwear at him!"

"Yeah, you could've just used that nifty aluminum pipe you have lashed to your belt."

"Are you kidding? That would have taken like...logical reasoning capabilities. Romulan here, not Vulcan, remember?"