Pacing the icy hallways and crystal corridors of the Fortress of Solitude, Superman pondered the meaning and purpose of life, and the fate of those who depended on him. Alone. Sad. Tired. He ventured forth seldom those days into so-called civilisation. Alienated and profoundly depressed, he no longer sought to wreak justice upon the wrongdoer. Apparently indifferent to the plight of the undefended innocent, seemingly unaware of the cataclysmic disasters besetting a helpless world, this so-called hero, superhero even, paced the icy hallways yadda yadda, pondering more weighty issues and concerns than mere threats to the continued existence of the species. Yes, more weighty issues, such as the absence of laundrettes in the polar regions (this was before global warming, when there were still such things as polar regions). And the result of those ponderings? The outputs of the steel trap mind of the man of steel? Simple really. Faced with the absence of laundrettes, there is only one reasonable course of action: wear one's underpants on the outside.
on the outside
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