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  • Well, this dialogue was funny before Identity Crisis ruined it:
    "I know who he is. And I know who you are. But are some of these guys and ladies around here, maybe, well—part of the team?"
    "What team is that, Dad?" Linda asked with faked innocence.
    "You know what team," said Fred, in mock exasperation. "It'd be really fun if you took me up to shake hands with some of them. Now, it's not like I want to know which ones they are. But you know, I have met the Gotham guy. And I'll bet I could guess which one he is, if I tried. Is it kind of like the Mafia? Do you say, 'This is a friend of mine'?"
    Linda smiled cautiously. "Dad, I've gotta tell you. Whenever we think somebody's getting too curious, we have to take him to the guy from Coast City. And the Coast City guy has to use that thing on his finger to go over your mind like a Disk Doctor over a hard drive, and purge out those curiosity bumps. After it was done, you wouldn't even remember everyone that was here."
    "Hmph," Fred snorted. "You guys used to have to go through such stupid stunts to keep your secrets secret."
    "That was before we met the guy from Coast City," said Linda, nonchalantly.
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  • Clark Kent's (human) cousins wondering why a rich guy like Bruce Wayne was attending Clark's wedding.
  • John Constantine has a heartwarming and funny scene when he prays for Kara coming through:
    "Hello, I know You're listening," he said. "Sorry to bother You in the middle of the day and all. Look, we're in a bit of a bind. I know y'got summat y'could have against me. Let's not get into that now, all right? I'm not askin' any favors for me, in particular. Well, I'd prefer not to go like instant-start charcoal, but what the hell, excuse me, that just slipped out.
    "I'm askin' for the kids. If they could be brought through this thing simon-pure, I'd really appreciate it. And the two Action guys, they shouldn't even be in this. Them gettin' their trousers burnt really wouldn't be Marquis of Queensbury. Now, would it?
    "But the thing I'm really askin'... the thing I'm really askin'... is for Miss, excuse me, Ms. Kara there. And maybe for her guy, too. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not poaching her. But the kid's got something to her. Makes me feel kinda good, hangin' around her. You know what I'm talkin' about? Well, I expect so. She's one solid gal, she is. And from what I've gathered here, she and that Dev guy haven't had much time together. So it'd be really bleedin' improper for one or both of ‘em to catch the night train prematurely, now, wouldn't it? I mean, wouldn't it?
    "So it's like... if'n You can bring ‘er through this... and maybe her man, too... You've got my marker. For whatever that's worth. I may have walked the fence, but I don't welsh. Ask me mates. I've gone hungry till next week's payday to pay off a bet."
    Constantine was silent for a second. Kara made no sound at all.
    "Want me to sweeten the pot? Well, what? All right, I'll go to church. Just once! What else? Ah, lemme see... oh, cripes, I would think of that. I don't really wanna do that. Oh, all right. If you get ‘em both through, I'll... I'll vote for Maggie Thatcher.
    "But just once!"
    There was a pause, and a sound of shoes scuffing. Then Constantine said, "Oh, one more thing. If that bloke Rao is anywhere in the block, he better come through for them. He blew it with Krypton. If he blows it with this one, I'll come up there and kick his ruddy pants for him. That's all."
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  • Desaad tries a torturing device on Pariah and the mechanism blows up in his face.
    In blackness was where Pariah would have preferred to spend his time. He had one small satisfaction: that Desaad had tried to torture him with a complicated contraption that was supposed to work on him physically, on his nerve cells, and the thing had blown up in his face. Desaad, with blackened face, had said, "Yes. Well, now we'll have to try again, won't we?"
  • Clark tells Lois they've won and he'll fill in the details later. Her journalist of a wife demands full story NOW.
    “Clark,” she squealed, despite herself. “You’re back!”
    “I am,” he smiled. “And thank God you’re still here, Lois.”
    “Does that mean–“
    “Yes,” he said. “Superman won.”
    “Oh, God have mercy. Thank you. Thank you.”
    “Don’t mention it. I’ll tell you about it later.”
    “Like hell.” She took him by the hand, marched him back to her desk, and sat him down, then put her hands on the keyboard. “You’ll tell me right now. We’ve got a story to file.”
    Clark sighed. “All right. Just so long as we get finished before the six o’clock news.”
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