Recently I had the chance to sit down with a very special guest. You may know him as the Caped Crusader, the Darknight Detective, or even That Guy With The Rubber Nipples.
Under his watchful eye, Gotham City has seen a 14% decrease in crime and a 82% increase in giant, working props.
I met with him in his underground, guano-filled lair. I present to you The Batman.
Me: So, The Batman–
Batman: It’s just Batman. Does anyone call you The David?
Me: Well, my wife…
Batman: Anyhow, it’s a pleasure to talk to you, blah, blah, blah.
Me: Okay. First question. Why a bat?
Batman: Ah, I get asked that a lot. You see, it’s all about striking fear into the hearts of the underworld.
Me: Criminals can be a superstitious and cowardly lot.
Batman: Mostly they’re afraid that I’ll get caught in their hair.
Me: Can you respond to the charge that your presence in Gotham has only encouraged crooks to correspondingly ramp up their own outsized personas? I mean, you’ve got Alice in Wonderland-themed villains, even a guy who commits signal-based crimes. I mean, really, signals?
Batman: I can’t explain that one myself. I’m like, “Oooo, don’t hit me with that stop sign!”
But, to answer your question, I think it helps keep them occupied. All that time spent sewing costumes and building huge, papier-mâché birds is less time spent robbing and murdering.
Me: Fair enough. Switching gears, you are regularly seen in the company of a young boy–
Batman: Don’t. Even. Go. There.
Me: No, no, no. I’m just referring to the suggestion that the reason you dress that child in a bright, primary-colored leotard is to draw gunfire away from yourself.
Batman: Look, the kid’s a professional. He’s a natural athlete. That “leotard” is a carbon-fiber and Kevlar armored suit, augmented by my own Bat-technology.
Me: But aren’t you on your third or fourth Robin?
Batman: Hrm. Next question.
Batman: What do–
Me: You know what I mean.
Batman: Easy choice. Crazy clown girl or kill-you-with-her-poisoned-touch girl? Big Top every time, baby.
Besides, I’m more of a Catwoman man. There was this one time; she had me lashed down with that double-length cat-o’-nine-tails she carries–
Me: Too much information.
Batman: Sorry. Time for one final question.
Me: Boxers or briefs?
Batman: Are you kidding me? Dude, you’re looking at them right now.