You're not getting the big picture.
I don't really plan to write Superman 'fic, but I got the idea at the theatre, and it won't leave my head until I exploit it on El-Jay. I call this a drabble at 215 words because it's still short and non-cut-text-ish, but if you are the type who loses sleep over Internet-coined terminology, then feel free to insert any of the following words in its place: a) 'ficlet; b) flufflet; c) seamonkey.
He had been donning Superman’s clothing for years, and as a result, could usually make a complete wardrobe/personality change from Clark Kent to Man of Steel in under twenty seconds. While the process of finding a phone booth, emptied elevator, or simply a convenient nook or cranny to complete the transformation was notably longer sometimes, particularly in New York City, this, too, was one of his many finely honed skills.
Outfitted in blue spandex and his red cape, he knew there was a single detail left, and in his opinion, the most important of all. Pulling his ever-present tube of hair gel from Clark’s right pants pocket, he squeezed a dollop onto his fingertips and got to work. His tongue poked out a little, brow furrowed in concentration, and it seemed as if time stood still; but in fact, it hadn’t, and an ingeniously intoxicated bunch of frat boys in Missouri were probably just starting to realize that jumping into the caged lion exhibit at their local zoo wasn’t as great an idea as they’d originally suspected. He knew he had to hurry, but perfection couldn’t be rushed.
Finally, he was finished: the eventual creation, Superman’s trademark Jheri curl, completed the metamorphosis. The world could rest easy, knowing Superman had its back, and great hair.
On the other hand, maybe "crack" is the most suitable category to place it in.
He had been donning Superman’s clothing for years, and as a result, could usually make a complete wardrobe/personality change from Clark Kent to Man of Steel in under twenty seconds. While the process of finding a phone booth, emptied elevator, or simply a convenient nook or cranny to complete the transformation was notably longer sometimes, particularly in New York City, this, too, was one of his many finely honed skills.
Outfitted in blue spandex and his red cape, he knew there was a single detail left, and in his opinion, the most important of all. Pulling his ever-present tube of hair gel from Clark’s right pants pocket, he squeezed a dollop onto his fingertips and got to work. His tongue poked out a little, brow furrowed in concentration, and it seemed as if time stood still; but in fact, it hadn’t, and an ingeniously intoxicated bunch of frat boys in Missouri were probably just starting to realize that jumping into the caged lion exhibit at their local zoo wasn’t as great an idea as they’d originally suspected. He knew he had to hurry, but perfection couldn’t be rushed.
Finally, he was finished: the eventual creation, Superman’s trademark Jheri curl, completed the metamorphosis. The world could rest easy, knowing Superman had its back, and great hair.
On the other hand, maybe "crack" is the most suitable category to place it in.