Lesson: Do not spy on Superman, or you will be punked most fruitily

Superman is no stranger to hawking assorted Hostess food-like products, but the tag in this one-pager (ah, the days when reporters had press passes tucked into their hatbands…) has a hint of rebellion — questioning whether or not a suit will fit you while advertising sugary confections makes you put two and two together, you know? Not after twenty Cherry Fruit Pies it won’t, Clark. (Incidentally, how about some more involved steps to hide your secret identity? They’re the costumes that mark you as the most famous man in the world, not your stash of porno mags, Kent.)

Question: Can Superman get fat? Not in an evil scheme/Red Kryptonite kind of way, but regular stuff-your-face-you-fat-pig style? Because if he can, one imagines that the Hostess food-ish lineup would be perfect fodder. (This would seem to suggest that he can’t, though.)