The Dark Knight Rises will debut in theaters on July 20th. As a fan of the franchise, I feel compelled to promote the movie as best I can, but be warned, I'm not quite sure my columns can match the hype offered by Batman flicks. Regardless, here is a string of journal entries that the Caped Crusader documented during one of his less-eventful shifts.
July 1st, 21-hundred hours: The last few nights, the streets of Gotham have been free of turmoil...a little too free of turmoil. My hunch is that the Joker and his cronies are trying to lull me into a false sense of complacence. The instant I let my guard down, they're sure to wreak havoc on the innocent. I can't take that chance. My watch over this city must remain as vigilant as ever.
22-hundred hours: No sign of super-villain activity yet, but while I was on patrol, I encountered a few teenagers inhaling some wacky-tobaccy behind a gas station. No brute force was required in the altercation, but I made sure to give those baby-faced burners a stern talking-to and a triple dose of $500 fines. (Note to self: Refill stack of misdemeanor tickets in Utility Belt.)
23-hundred hours: Beneath my perch atop this parking garage, a gang of street toughs in baggy pants blared rap music from a portable stereo in total disregard of the city's noise ordinance. Profanity and racial slurs were clearly audible. I shouted down, “Turn off that racket—or else!” They complied, apologized, and dispersed in total silence...which is kind of a shame, really, 'cause part of me has a hankering to kick some ass.
July 2nd, 0-hundred hours: There was no doubt in my mind that I had finally confronted trouble when I spotted a pair of the Joker's henchmen hassling tourists outside of Gotham's Hard Rock Cafe. Clad in matching black leotards, their faces smeared with the pasty paint worn by their criminal overlord, they encircled passersby and gestured wildly in an apparent effort to startle and confuse their victims before mugging them. I leaped off the rooftop and incapacitated one with an ax kick to the skull. His cohort sustained a less merciful beating. I worked him over with a barrage of karate attacks until a youngster tearfully screamed, “No, Batman, they're just MIMES!” I didn't like seeing the boy out so late and said so to his mother...but I had to admit he was right. As I lugged the unconscious bodies onto a nearby park-bench, I complimented both for their commitment to character. Astoundingly, the second mime didn't even utter a peep when I shattered his collar-bone. I fled the scene under the assumption that someone would probably call an ambulance for those creepy clowns.
Mimes? Joker's henchmen? Hell, they all look the same to me...
When I got back to the Batmobile to regroup, I discovered the following note taped to the windshield: “Riddle me this, ass-face: What has two thumbs and just robbed a liquor store? This guy!” It was signed by the Riddler.
Clearly, the man's standards for both crime and riddles have fallen, but still, he bested me this time. When I catch him next, launching him through a plate-glass window is going to feel a little extra-special.
More Stories, and Additional Stories is the name of that eBook.
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