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 Loser's Guide to Life

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Superman Reconstructs 

Superman took over the Batcave. He kicked Batman out and threw out all his stuff. What a lot of clutter. Souvenirs, highschool football trophies, a mummified rabbit. Batman was just nuts. “No offence,” said Superman, “I like you humans, and most of you are great, though of course some of you can be trying at times, but you're a creep and a weirdo, Batman. Really. I'm sorry. Crime-fighting is for law enforcement agents or super-heroes, not guys like you who are just all fucked up. Go and get help. For yourself. I mean it.” Batman stood there for a while and then drove off in the Batmobile with a few boxes of clothes, vowing revenge.

A litte later, there was some hammering on the door that led upstairs to Wayne Manor. Superman could see with his x-ray vision that it was “Robin”, or Dick Grayson, back from wherever and trying to get into the Batcave. Superman had fused the door shut with his heat-vision.

“Dick, go away,” said Superman.

“It's Superman, isn't it? Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?” screamed Robin.

“Dick, will you—”

“Who the holy fuck gave you the right to come in here and do whatever you want?” screamed Dick. “It's Batman's place. You're a fucking—”

“Dick, calm down. I'm not opening that door.” Superman spoke in measured, agreeable tones. “I've put your stuff up in the hall, near the front door, where you can find it.”

“Yeah? Where's my fucking stamp collection, you fucking alien?”

“Is it not there? I must have put it in one of those boxes near the dumpster then. It should still be there. Anyway, no need to get all angry, Dick.”

Robin responded with a fury of kicks to the door. “You fucking freak, you cocksucker. I always knew you were no good. Fucking freak from fuck knows what fucking planet. Jesus!”

“Robin, I'm using my super-breath to create a vacuum in here so I can't hear you. Now—”

“Bull fucking shit,” said Robin, “You're so full of it, man, I just hope you know that. You're a joke.”

“Now, Robin, you're saying a lot of things that I think you don't mean, so I'm just gonna—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

After a moment, Robin's steps could be heard going back up the stairs, and Superman went into the kitchenette to make a coffee. “He really ought to finish school” thought Superman, “I think there's enough money for that. Then he ought to try and make something of himself. Look around for something. I know a lot of people, maybe I could help. Publishing, for example. Anyway, he needs to spend less time with Batman, and more time working or studying. I remember being his age, it's not easy. But I had to face a lot of difficulties. Smallville, back then, or even now. Not like Metropolis or Gotham City. I mean, the people are lovely, of course, and there's a delightful atmosphere, which you won't find anywhere else, but everyone knows everyone's business, and there's kind of like—expectations, and that's not always easy to deal with.”

Superman took his coffee into the main room and turned on CNN.



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Watching TV is a good way to tear yourself away from the computer.