"You did it again!" Lois said, even pointing at Clark when she said it. "Stop cussing! It's weird coming out of you so just stop it. Since when do you cuss in the first place?"
Lois eyed Clark as he moved across the room. It was safe to say that she was getting a bit wary of him, it was why when she set the bottle of holy water down on a nearby table she kept the knife in her hand, still open. So far, from the looks of it, someone had replaced Clark's personality with someone else's. Either that or he was accusing her of impersonating herself because he was the real impersonator. Kinda like cheaters. The one that's cheating usually accuses the other one of cheating.
But one thing was for sure. Clark was in no way acting like the man she knew. He was suspicious, angry, cursing, and didn't believe a word she said.
"I don't even know what a Croat is," she answered, not taking her eyes off of him as he moved to the window. "And if I knew how you got that scar in the first place, I wouldn't have asked. So that's just a stupid question, isn't it?" Apparently he'd forgotten all of his reporting skills. If he even had any in the first place. This Clark might have never become a reporter. Maybe this one was always a jackass of some sort.
"It was just a normal Sunday. I laid around for a while, got you to take me to get some dinner. Then when I couldn't sleep I got up to get a doughnut - which is on the ground out there somewhere now if you want the evidence, I dropped it - and ended up here instead of in my kitchen. About that time it became a little less normal."