"Sick. You're really sick."

"Sick, Miss Teschmacher? Sick when I'm mere days from executing the Crime of the Century? Step away from that, please." She does. Luthor continues: "How do you choose to congratulate the greatest criminal mind of all time, huh? Do you tell me that I'm brilliant? Charismatic? Fiendishly gifted?"

"Try twisted," suggests Miss Teschmacher. She then settles herself next to a filing cabinet, but Luthor forces her away from it. Obviously there's information in that cabinet Luthor does not want revealed. You never know if somehow such information might accidentally find its way to the press.

"Tell me something, Lex," says Miss Teschmacher. "Why do so many people have to die for the Crime of the Century?"

"Why? You ask why?" replies Luthor. "Why does the phone ring while you're in the bathtub?" He grabs a huge rope, and with a simple click, switches off the lights over his huge swimming pool. "Why is the most brilliantly diabolical leader of our time surrounding himself with total nincompoops?" Speaking of which....

"I'm back, Mr. Luthor," announces Otis as he enters the room.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was just talking about you," Luthor replies. "You were followed again. In spite of those cat-like reflexes...."

Otis stumbles briefly across Luthor's desk, apologizing profusely. But Luthor seems oblivious to Otis' apology. "Otis, is that the newspaper I asked you to get me?"

"Uh huh."

"Why am I not reading it?"

Otis takes a couple of seconds to think. "Because I haven't given it to you yet?"

"Right," smiles Luthor. He snatches the copy of the Daily Planet from his brainless sidekick, then checks out the headline and nods. Apparently, phase one of this "Crime of the Century" idea of his is pretty much a done deal! "At last, it's official," Luthor continues. "Thanks to the generous help of the United States Government, we are about to be involved in the greatest real-estate swindle of all time!"

Miss Teschmacher isn't exactly phased by this news. "Lex, what is this obsession with real estate? All the time, land, land, land....."

"Miss Teschmacher, when I was 6 years old, my father said to me ---"

"'Get out!'"

Luthor laughs. "No no no no no, before that. He said: 'Son, stocks may rise and fall, utilities and transportation systems may collapse, people are no damn good --- but they will always need land, and they will always pay through the nose to get it. Remember,' my father said ---"

"'Land,'" grunts Otis.

"Right," smiles Luthor. "It's a pity he didn't see how from such humble beginnings I've created this empire."

"An empire? This?" asks Miss Teschmacher.

"Miss Teschmacher, how many girls do you know who have a Park Avenue address like this one?"

"Park Avenue address? 200 feet below?"

"Do you even realize just how many people up there are trying to shell up a few miserable rooms off a common elevator?" says Luthor. "What more could anyone ask?" he and Otis then say together. Clearly, there's more to the world of real estate than one can possibly speculate.