Who Shat on the Bat?
Batman couldn't believe what he was seeing! A huge, fresh turd right in the middle of Catwoman's litter box. And it wasn't Catwoman's! He'd been sniffing her shit for years and could tell this one was different. It had the musky scent of a male's sweaty sphincter. Batman's Bat-nose was flaring up for all the wrong reasons. He had to find out whose musty anus this came from, and more importantly: Why was it in his woman's box? Was someone else shitting where he slept? The caped crusader was onto the case. One he knew had to be solved immediately. To the Bat Cave! But first he had to take a crap of his own. The foreign turd stared deep into Batman's soul as he tried to pinch off a clean log. Sitting in the corner of the bathroom, the litter box was calling to him. Teasing him. Wafting its offensiveness in his general direction. Why hadn't he turned on the exhaust fan? He threw a Bat- Boomerang at the switch, but missed, cracking one of the wall tiles instead. "Fuck!" Batman had planned on having a toilet wank, but that was out of the question now. He was too mad to get a good chubby going. Not to mention there was no more Bat-paper to wipe his ass or clean his mess. The day couldn't get any worse… Or could it?
Batman made his way up to the fourth floor of Wayne manor, his boots squeaking on the polished staircase. God he hated that sound! On the second flight of stairs he sat down and took off his boots. Fuck his feet stank! Even the thick woollen Bat-socks couldn't absorb the sweaty mess that pooled up in his boots every night. Why rubber? He'd made some terrible decisions in his life, but wearing an entire suit made of rubber was the worst of them all! He made the rest of the ascent in stealthy silence, his wet sweaty socks leaving footprints all over the place. Alfred would mop later anyway. "Fuck him. He does nothing around here anymore" Batman thought. In fact it was about damn time he slapped that old fool around a little bit. He'd been getting too lippy lately. "Batman, you're a fat lazy slob" this, and "Batman, you're a cunt" that. Fuck him! Batman was pissed off. Who's turd had been in his missus box? He had to find out if it was the last thing he did.
When Batman finally got to his room to change his Bat-undies he could hardly breathe. The four flights of stairs were getting too much for him. Time to install a Bat-elevator. Or at least one of those stair-master contraptions he'd seen on late night Bat-television. When he opened his undie drawer he was confronted with the last pair in the laundry cycle, and damn it, if they weren't the pair with the hole in them! He hated that pair. One Bat-testicle always managed to find the hole and pop out, rubbing against the rubber of his Bat-pants. Fucking rubber! Argh! Do you know how hard it is to get a rubber glove with fucking spikes on the forearms, down the front of your rubber Bat-pants to manipulate a sensitive ball back through an undie hole? He didn't have time for this shit! "Fuck it! I'm going commando"! He roared. His day had just gotten worse…
Alfred came shuffling into the Bat-Cave around midday to find Batman stuffing his face with chocolate. A little had fallen onto his chest and was melting all over the Bat logo.
"You're a fucking disgrace Wayne". Alfred slurred, spilling some of his drink in an awkward stumble. It wasn't uncommon for Alfred to be drunk by this time of the day. He'd taken to drinking hard liquor with breakfast, followed by a cheeky top up around brunch, and a few more shots at lunch.
"Eat a furry cock you wrinkled ball bag"! Batman spat back with a splutter of chocolate and Bat-spit. "Did you call that cheating bitch yet"? Catwoman hadn't answered any of Batman's calls, so he asked Alfred to have a go. She rarely answered her phone these days. The thought of her ignoring his calls made Batman all the more suspicious. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his Bat-senses told him that if a woman ignored your calls, she probably wasn't interested in what you had to say? It was these kinds of instincts that made Batman the super sleuth he was today. His womanly instincts had reached master level the year he bought Catwoman an iron for her birthday:
"How the fuck am I meant to iron a pleather Cat suit you dopey cunt"? She cried. "If you weren't such a cheap fuck and had bought me a real leather suit, instead of that fake plastic shit, we wouldn't be having this conversation! God you're such a pathetic loser!" Batman had sensed she wasn't joking so he instinctively fired off a smoke grenade and got the hell out of there. When Catwoman was pissed off she tended to scratch the shit out of his chubby, exposed jaw. The only part of his body not boiling within the confines of his rubber suit. Fucking rubber!
"NO I DID NOT CALL THAT BITCH"! Alfred yelled. His old phlegmy voice reverberated throughout the cave.
"STOP YELLING"! Batman screamed back. "I've already got a fucking headache for fuck sake"!
"Oh I'm so sorry to hear that Master Bruce. Would you like me to rub your temples for you...with my nuts"? Alfred burst into laughter as he started undoing his fly.
"I swear to God if you pull those rotten nuts out I will kick each one with both feet!
"Pfft... You couldn't lift your fat foot high enough Fatman. You're so out of shape I could outrun you on a treadmill"!
"You know what Alfred? You're fucking fired! I'm sick of your shit! Take your flabby old man ass out of my cave and never come back. I mean it this time! We're through"! Alfred raises his glass and smashes it on Batman's rubber head, dousing him in shattered glass and putrid whisky.
"Don't be such a pussy Wayne"! I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here till the day I'm shitting my pants and you're wiping my ass with your gay cape". Alfred then turned around and quickly shuffled back out of the cave in search of the trusty liquor cabinet. With a final display of insult Alfred raised his wrinkled old middle finger in the air before disappearing back into the house. Batman sat there soaking in alcohol, staring at the retreating Alfred. He contemplated running after the old bastard and judo chopping him in the back of the neck, but instead looked down at the unfinished chocolate on the desk, stuffing as much into his mouth as he could manage. This shitty day wasn't getting any better.
Batman hung out in his cave all afternoon thinking about his next move. He'd already jerked off three times looking at Bat-porn on his Bat-computer when he decided to invite his next-door neighbour 'Robin" over for a bout of table tennis action. He was determined to beat that young prick if it was the last thing he did… Well, that and finding out who shat in Catwoman's litter tray of course. Table tennis was Batman's new favourite hobby. He felt the physical exercise was just strenuous enough to get a good sweat going, and he liked that he could drink with his other hand at the same time. Only trouble was; he had to play with his pants off. He got too hot otherwise. Robin wasn't a fan of taking his pants off. Besides, the little bastard was smart enough to wear breathable lycra-spandex, something Batman gave him constant shit for, but secretly envied.
"Fatman, your dickhead mate has arrived!" Alfred shouted down to Batman from the secret door hidden behind the Bat-Beer-fridge.
"Send him down Fred"! Batman replied, hands busily working on his Bat-belt and Bat-pants. By the time Robin came down Batman was half naked, stretching his quads against the rusting Bat-mobile.
"Yo-yo B-Man! What's up my nigger!" Robin came strutting down the stairs with a carton of the cheapest beer Gotham had to offer. "Oh for fuck sake Batman! Put your pants on! I can see your Bat-pecker!"
"Oops, sorry. I forgot I didn't have my Bat-undies on. Catwoman didn't put a load on this week, and Alfred the senile old bastard can't lift the clothes hamper anymore". Batman grabbed the towel off the back of his computer chair and wrapped it around his waist, making sure the wet cum patches were facing out. The look on Robin's face was priceless. Batman couldn't help but laugh. "What? Would you rather look at my ball-bag?"
"Nah you're right mate." Robin cracks open the carton and throws a can of beer to Batman who clumsily fumbles it, dropping the can on the floor, exploding fizzy piss all over his legs. "You fucking Muppet!" Robin laughs. Batman picks up the can and throws it as far as he can into the darkness of the Bat-cave.
"Give me another one you wanker". This time the flying can catches on one of Batman's forearm spikes and showers his face in beer. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" Batman yells as he jumps up and down, shaking the punctured can above his head with his mouth open. "YUCK! It's fucking warm!" He spits.
"Well it was $2 cheaper if you got it off the shelf," Robin shrugged.
"You cheap cunt." Batman shakes his head. "Go put it in the Bat-fridge. Then lets get this game going huh? I'm going to rape your ass this time."
"I'd believe it too, coming from a man with a spank towel wrapped around his junk," Robin yells; head buried in the fridge. "What the fuck is a strap on dildo covered in cat-food doing in here?" Robin exclaimed.
"You don't want to know Robin. You don't want to know."
As the sun was setting over Wayne Manor Batman and Robin were lounging on the Bat-couch, watching cartoons on the Bat-TV. Batman had filled Robin in on the mysterious turd situation and the two super sleuth crime fighters were devising a plan as to catch the culprit. As per usual Robin's ideas were fucking useless. The best one being: a giant net over the litter box to catch the perpetrator in the heat of the crime.
"Are you kidding me Robin? That is the best you can do? I don't even know why I invite you over anymore? Grow a fucking brain. Unless we move the litter box outside and place it under a large tree, how the fuck else are we going to rig up a net without it being noticeable? You are a useless cunt, and I feel dumber having even talked about this plan. Now make yourself useful and go get me another horrible beer."
"Easy does it Batman. I'm only trying to help." With that, Robin got up to get Batman another drink. He suddenly stopped half way to the fridge. "Holy fish fingers Batman! I've got it! What if we take a sample of the turd and match the faecal DNA to the anal scrapings of the most eligible bachelors in Gotham and see if any fit the profile?"
"Why Robin, that's brilliant! Together we could nab young men, pull down their pants and while one of us holds the suspect, the other could spread their ass cheeks apart and swab the depths of their sphincter with a cotton bud! It's almost too simple."
"Exactly!" Robin exclaims.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE ROBIN! I'm serious cunt! You are no good to me! I am only going to beat the shit out of you soon if you don't go. And leave the rest of the beer. That's your punishment for being so God damned retarded!" Robin's shoulders slumped as he began to make his way out of the room. Stopping off at the bathroom Robin decided to take an upper decker in Batman's toilet. Lifting the top plate off the cistern Robin hovers his stink hole over the clean water bowl and squeezes out a dirty mud worm. "Stick that in your bowl and flush it Batman! Good luck getting a clean flush from this toilet for the next month." Having said that, Robin up and vanishes from Wayne Manor like a dry fart in the wind.
Catwoman came sneaking into the house through the back door around midnight. She silently crept through the kitchen only to be startled by the sudden flash of light as Batman threw on the power switch. Standing completely naked except for his mask, cape and bat-socks Batman slowly shook his head. "Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in?" He said.
"I didn't drag anything in dickhead? And why the fuck are you naked? God you're disgusting." Catwoman hissed.
"Oh you dragged something in alright: The foul stench of shame. What are you hiding Selina? WHO'S SHIT IS IN THE LITTER BOX! Batman lost his cool. Even with the nice evening breeze cooling his overheated ball-bag he still felt like he was on fire with envious passion. How could she do this to him?
"Are you kidding me Bruce?" She replied. "Do you honestly not remember?
"What are you talking about whore?" Batman spat. "Admit it. You've been parading that pussy around and finally brought in a stray. I want his name Selina. I'm going to rub his nose in his own dirty rotten mess."
"Well go rub your nose in it then. Because that's your shit Crapman! Don't you remember? We took LSD the other night and you decided it would be fun to swap costumes. You squeezed your tubby fat ass into my cat suit and split the pants right down the middle. Then you took a dump on the coffee table! I made you pick it up and throw it in the toilet. You just threw it in my litter tray instead. It fucking smells like chip fat and off cheese!" Batman stared at Catwoman, a mixture of confusion and recognition crossing his face.
"You mean you're not cheating on me? Batman asked with restrained relief.
"Oh I didn't say that. I just said it was your shit," Catwoman shrugged back. "Now if we're done here I'm going to go lick myself clean and go to bed. You are such a fucking retard. I bet you've been pissing and moaning about this all day."
"No I haven't!" snapped Batman.
"Yes he has." Alfred said. Batman and Catwoman both jumped at Alfred's interruption. "Don't mind me. I'm just looking for something to eat. All this talk of chips and cheese has got me peckish. Speaking of peckish. Go put some pants on Wayne. You're making us all sick." Together Alfred and Catwoman laughed at Batman as he stormed out of the kitchen.
"Case closed Shatman!" Catwoman called out. Batman could hear his two housemates still laughing all the way down the hall as he closed the bathroom door. All that talk of shit, cheese, chips and LSD had gotten Batman steamed up for a violent turd. If he was angry when he sat down on the bowl, it was nothing compared to when he pushed the flush button. Robin was to have the last laugh at this caped crusaders expense. What a terribly shit cunt of a fucking day!