THE WESTEND.
Lois is working an old-school calculator by the kitchen table. The table is overwhelmed with sheets of papers and the poor woman looks absolutely drenched.
She suddenly stops punching the calculator with a look of amazement on her face. "This really doesn't make any sense." she mumbles, scratching her head.
"Peter can you please come in here!" she shouts.
"I'm visiting the privy – taking a wicked crap!" The man of the house replied in a manner which made it clear to everyone that he'd been watching way too many English dramas and Adele documentarys lately.
"Ok but when you're done; wash your hands and..." Lois yelled, but she was cut short by sweaty Peter barging into the kitchen with a tail of toilet paper hanging from his pants. "I came as fast as I could. What's your headache, hotcake?"
Lois made a gesture towards the calculator. "I don't understand the numbers this month. I've been balancing our finances for … always and this is the first time it actually balances.
"Good news indeed. And while I'm pleasantly surprised, I don't understand why you'd think I have anything to do with this positive development."
Brian enter the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee from the machine. He takes it black and casually leaned against a cupboard, ready for the show.
Lois shots her husband a suspicious expression. "It's two things, now that you ask. First; you haven't made any withdrawals from the account this month, why?"
"Would it surprise you to learn I've embraced a more ascetic lifestyle after watching The Cove?" Peter replied with an attitude of utter dignity.
"Very much so." Lois said without relenting her piercing stare. "Secondly; is that a gold chain around your neck?"
Peter closed his shirts top-button tight and tried to wiggle his way out of the spotlight. "Just a little something I've got myself to ease the hurt of all that self-restraint."
Lois answer was cold silence and Peter knew he had to tell her the truth – or at least parts of the truth. Like a serial killer admitting to be a lousy dresser.
"Ok." he said with an honest face. "You know how you always nag on me for being a deadbeat completely deprived of ambition?"
"Not once have I said that." Lois retorted, arms crossed.
"Well, perhaps it was Patricia, but never the less..."
"Who's Patricia?" Lois hissed. Her talent for ignoring the point of Peters stories seemingly bigger than ever.
"Not important." Peter continued. "What is important, is the fact, that I've started a small business on the side and it's going great." He said and demonstrated his talent for brushing off his wife's concerns was seemingly just as big.
"But that's great honey. Why would you keep that a secret?" she asked looking massively relieved her buffoon husband hadn't invested any funds in magic beans or the Nigerian royal family.
"So what kind of business is it?" Lois asked, almost humming.
"Mostly entrails." Peter replied a little to fast.
Lois looked confused for a second, then she got it. "Ah. You mean retail?"
"Yes. Very complicated stuff." Peter replied. Sensing this was a good time to end the interrogation. "Well. I'll best be on my way before you ruin the atmos by asking follow-up questions." He said and left the kitchen innocent whistling, like a young Roger Whitaker. And I mean really young, like age 3 or something.
...
Mayor Adam West is watching Two Mean Girls on TV while meticulously applying red nail-polish onto his toes. He's wearing a pink robe and a pair of pink bunny slippers is parked next to the chair.
The movie ends and Tom Tucker appears in a promo square during the credits. "This just in! The number of Quahog residents contracting the much maligned anal infection has reached epidemic proportions. Learn more after the break, when I'll do one of my, in Jazz-circles, highly appreciated interviews in square glasses."
Mayor West jumps out of the chair with an attitude of burning indignation and cotton balls wedged between his toes. "This is outrageous. There will be no rampant butt-rash on my watch!"
He turns the TV off and gazes at the distance. "I wonder who is behind this evil? … Well. I know just the guy to find out."
Mayor West heads for the door walking on his heels.
Cutaway: Batman is scouting Quahog from the top of a high-rise building in a black/white, slowed-down montage. He jumps off the building and glides across the rooftops, accompanied only by the sound of the wind hitting his cape.
Batman approaches the Quahog red-light district and watches how samples of petty crime is committed on the streets below him. He ignores the crime until he spot Peter conducting a trade with a shady looking man in a dark alley. Batman circles the situation and witness Peter receive a wad of cash for a small packet.
"Just as I suspected. It's an inside job" hissed the dark knight and dissolved into the shadows.
End of cutaway. Leaving the living room, Mayor West pauses in the doorway and turns to face the reader. "And that's how you do a cutaway bitches."
...
Peter is driving his car along the Quahog Turnpike to the Theme song from Sopranos.
He's smoking a cigar and frantically checking his mirrors until he arrives at the Quahog Stadium.
Peter produces a Butt-Scratcher from the glove box and leaves the car using it.
He stops in front of the stadiums Employees Only entrance, to smell the nasty end of his Butt-Scratcher. "Ha! Raspberry. Not in a million years."
Peter gives the door a coded knocking and it is soon opened, cautiously, by a squeaky-voiced, acne ridden teen. "Oh it's you Mr. Bowie." he said while nervously scouting the area.
"Just call me David." Peter replied graciously laughing. "Do you have my merchandise ready?" he continued, now serious.
The teen pulls an unappealing grimace. " I don't like what we're doing Mr. Bowie. I want out."
Peter rip the door wide open and grab the kid by the collar. "Listen here you little pus-pocket. What did I just tell you to call me?!"
The teen is terrified and cries out for mercy. "I'm sorry Mr. David, I'm so sorry!"
The begging relaxes Peter who loosen his grip and begins to straighten the kids clothes. "That's more like it. Now, about the other thing; ok, no problem."
The kid can't believe his ears. "Really?"
Peter is all smiles as he slip out a wad of cash from his pocket. "Absolutely. But it also means no more of this. And you do realize you can have your choice of dates with ragged and/or rehabilitating semi-celebrities, such as Amanda Byrnes or the Duchess of York, just for the money in my hand?"
This, for some reason, is too much of a lure for the youngster and he agrees to pass the order of two cardboard boxes onto Peter. "But this is the last time Mr. David. I hear Batman has been sniffing around."
Peter doesn't appear too worried over the information. "Bah! He's just a myth. And even if he's not; he's blind like a bat, right? Running around making those clicking noises – Nah, he's never going to find us."
"I guess." mumbled the teen, not entirely convinced.
Peter hands over the cash and carry the boxes to his car unaware of the caped figure monitoring him from a floodlight high above.
...
Later that night, Batman is pacing the floor in the Bat-cave with his hands folded behind his back. He appears to be in deep thoughts and mumbling to himself . "No way I can defeat this sneaking evil alone. But who can I call for assistance?"
Then it comes to him. "Why Robin of cause!" He shouts and whip out a cellphone.
He punch in a number and an old man answer the phone after a million rings. "Hello, who's calling? I don't know anyone anymore."
Batman goes directly to the matter at hand. "Hello old friend. This is Batman and I need your help one last time."
"Is this a joke?" coughed the old man.
"Not at all." Batman replied a little taken aback by the suggestion this could be a prank. "I never joke about serious crime." he muttered.
"Well then you must have had a stroke. Long story short; I can't help you, goodbye." Robin sneered at the other end of the line.
"But you're the Boy Wonder." Batman tried.
"Yes I am. And right now I'm wondering why the hell we're having this conversation. I'm 88 years old and so are you." Robin said and hung up the phone.
But the dark knight was nothing if not resourceful, so he decided to hold an open audition for a new sidekick. Surely he'd be able to gather a selection of competent and stalwart candidates, burning to do right, from this underestimated town.
...
A week later and the open audition has just ended. A shell-shocked Batman is standing in front of an ecstatic Joe Swanson. "You mean I got it?!" Joe shouted a little too loud for comfort.
Batman looked like he'd just watched an episode of Game of Thrones, utterly lost. Was this really the best Quahog could produce?
"I guess so. Apparently you're the best Quahog can produce." answered Batman mechanically and genuinely concerned for his hometowns future.
"Well, a lot of people did leave when you told them they wouldn't get payed." Joe said casting long looks at the Robin suit in Batman's hand. "So, is that mine?"
Batman held up the suit and looked at it like he'd never seen it before. "Yes, yes it is." He replied and handed Joe the suit. " Eh, you need help with that?" he offered.
"That would be great." Joe said. "But please be careful not to rip lose any tubes or wires when you do."
The dark night sighed loudly as he rolled his new sidekick back to the Bat-cave for a change of outfit and diaper.
...
Stewie and Brian is having an imaginary tea party in Stewie's room, when Chris walk past the open door mumbling and intensely starring at a yo-yo.
"Some day I'll succeed in extracting your secrets and the whole world will be under my command."
Stewie call on Chris."Hey dumb-dumb, what you got there?!"
Chris enter Stewie's room." It's a Joe-Joe, but they must have forgot to include a manual, so I don't know how it works." he said and held out the toy.
Both Stewie and Brian leave the table to help. Stewie accepts the yo-yo and gives it a few spins while Chris watch on with his jaw on the floor. "See how easy this is, Chris?"
Chris, who had a disposition for getting easily excited, screamed with glee. "That is so awesome!"
"That's nothing, I'm only getting warm." Stewie said, secretly loving his brothers manic applause.
He decided to take the performance up a notch."Hey Chris. You know the trick whack the dog?"
Chris didn't even know how many months were in a year and went with his answer to most questions. "No."
Brian, whose favorite past-time activity was correcting people, had. "Isn't it called walk the dog." he asked with his eyes fixed on the whirling yo-yo.
"No, this one is called wack the dog." Stewie replied and hurled the toy directly into Brian's crotch.
Oh how the kids laughed. Except Brian, he was on the floor dying.
"You son of a bitch Stewie! I use that, you know."
"Yeah, I know. Rupert told me." Stewie replied and went on to change the subject. "Did any of you notice a change in the fat man lately?"
Brian was back on his paws and ready to weigh in. "Other than the cigars and his newfound love of spats, no. Why?"
Stewie went to pull out two cardboard boxes from under his crib. "Because of these." he said. "The fat man hid them there for some reason."
"What's in them?"Brian asked, edging closer.
"Maybe they're stuffed with yo-yos'" Chris suggested.
To which Brian responded."I hope not."
Stewie said nothing but tore the one box open. The content of the box made the trio gasp for air and put a look of horror on their faces.
...
The Griffin family is gathered in the living room where they're getting ready to watch the news on TV. Peter is bleeding from a bullet wound in the arm. The injured arm is heavily and sloppy bandaged with toilet paper.
She knew she probably wouldn't like the answer, but Lois went on to ask anyway. "What happened to your arm?"
"Mosquito bite." Peter replied casually, hoping the bottle of red wine she'd consumed along the day, would make her less vigilant. "Shh, the news is on." He said and turned up the volume.
Tom Tucker opens with the usual quip at his co-host. "Wow! The real stars of this program is the make-up people. Even close up, you cannot see that face tattoo."
Joyce Kinney ignores the insult as she has big news to announce. "It is indeed a sad day for the good people of Quahog. Earlier this evening the city-counsel released a brief announcement stating that Adam West, beloved mayor of Quahog, has past away from natural causes. Details surrounding the mayors somewhat timely death at the age of 88 is still sparse, but we'll keep you posted if any new information comes out. The election of a new mayor will take place as soon as a list of approved candidates is released by a panel consisting of God T.A, Seth MacFarlane and some faceless money-men who was stupid enough to throw good money after this debacle."
"What does T.A stands for?" Peter asked the room.
"I think it stands for The Almighty." Meg replied. But the answer didn't impress Peter.
"If he's so almighty, how come he need those others guys?" he continued to the irritation of everyone.
"I don't know dad. I think this MacFarlane guy is pretty loaded. Maybe he bribed his way onto the panel." she said wondering about her fathers obsession with who was on the damn panel. Shouldn't he be more concerned about why there was a panel to begin with.
Tom Tucker clear his throat as he takes the baton from Joyce. "In other news; mythical figure Batman was seen rolled into the back of an ambulance after suffering what witnesses describe as "a classic heart attack, if there ever was one." What an odd quote, but ok. We now go to live-reporter, Tricia Takanawa, for more.
Tricia Takanawa is standing next to Joe Swanson, who's still wearing his Robin-suit.
"Thank you Tom. I'm standing here in the sinful center of the Quahog red-light district with the little boy Joe, who was unfortunate enough to witness everything close up.
"I'm not a little boy." protested a stone faced Joe.
Tricia ignores him and continues. "On his way home from a friends costume party, young Joe here was caught in the middle of the chase that led to the fall of the caped crusader. Tell me Joe, what happened, what did you see?"
Joe would rather be, literally, anywhere else than on the news wearing tights. And it shows.
"I'm not a kid and I was not at a costume party." he begins, but is interrupted when a passing man say something inaudibly to Tricia. She turns her head towards the man and hisses at him. "No I will not love you long time … freak!"
She returns her attention and the mic back to Joe. "As I was saying; I'm a grown man who also happens to be a superheros sidekick. Get over it."
Tricia realize Joe is about to blow and continues in a calm voice. "Ok Joe, but what happened to Batman?"
A grief stricken Joe looks into the camera. "We were chasing the villain behind the violent butt-rash witch has plagued this poor town, my town. Batman was pushing me down the street in hot pursuit, when suddenly I noticed we were slowly losing momentum. I pulled out my gun and shot at the perp – and I'm pretty sure I got him cause he dropped a case of used Butt-scratchers on the scene. The tech-boys will decide if this is the source of the epidemic, however, my butt-feeling tells me it is. Also there was a trail of blood leading down the alley so … Yeah, I got him."
Back in the living room, all eyes are on Peters bandaged arm. He pinches his eyes at the Tv in an effort to divert the attention. "I swear I know that guy. Hey Lois. Does Joe have flames painted on his wheelchair?"
Lois reply is short, cold, and mostly meant for herself. "You're such an idiot."
Back on the street, Tricia tries to get Joe back on track. "What happened to Batman during all this?"
Joe pulls out his sad-face again. "Well, I can't really say because he was behind me all the time. But it sounded like a classic heart attack, if there ever was one."
Tricia takes the mic back and stare into the lens. "There you have it, from the horses mouth. The big itch is over. Back to you Tom and Joyce."
Tom looks shaken but soldiers on. "There is still no news regarding Batmans' condition. Is he dead? Is he alive? We don't know."
Tom pauses for dramatic effect and wipes away a tear. Joyce takes over. "It's ok to be a pussy at times like this, Tom."
Tom mans up and takes over. "What we do have is a sketch of the pervert who'd been peddling used Butt-scratchers to innocent civilians."
A sketch looking exactly like Michael More appears over Tom's shoulder. "This thanks to the brave kid in the wheelchair. Well don young man."
Back in the living room the sketch of Michael More has everyone starring at Peter.
Lois dives into her toolbox and reemerges armed with her best nagging voice. "Peter. Is there something you want to tell me?"
Peter looks guilty as hell. "Yes, yes there is. But please understand that I only did what I did for the family. I know how much you all love the smell of cigar smoke and the sight of me prancing around in spats."
Lois can't bare anymore bullshit and orders Peter to fix the problem now.
He slides closer to look Lois deep in the eyes and whispers. "I already did."
CUTAWAY: To a dark prison cell where two officers are busy beating the acne ridden kid mercilessly.
THE END
RIP
ADAM WEST
