Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

It's dumb. It's silly. Just go with it.

Nightwing Saturday Night Live Skit

Supergirl is the guest host. Opening monologue.

"Okay, I'm so incredibly excited to be here and since I'm not really an actress or funny or anything, I thought it would be a good idea to just start out and see if anyone has any questions." She sees hands in the audience, picks one. "Yes?"

"You're like fifteen, right? You superhero guys are always running—or flying around wearing like next to nothing, right? I was kinda wondering who's the hottest guy you work with?"

She stammers, blushes, tries to fob off the question… "I was thinking about different questions; maybe like something about me since I'm the host and all but, I don't know…Arsenal is pretty cool."

"Yeah right, maybe if you're dumpster diving." The audience laughs

Some woman a row behind the first questioner: "Maybe if he got rid of the chin rat and grew his hair again." The audience agrees with her. "Get serious—who's got the best ass? I mean without the spandex to lift and separate."

Supergirl answers too fast, she's probably thinking out loud. "Nightwing." She blushes. The audience agrees. A camera picks up NW in a balcony seat making out with a stacked blonde on his lap. He stops at the mention of his name and the lights on him, shielding his eyes and looking annoyed. The embarrassed blonde tries to sneak away, disappearing up the steps and out. We can just hear him whisper "I'll call you" as she moves out of sight.

"…'Wing—what are you doing here?" Supergirl looks girlishly pleased to see him. The audience cheers, whoops and applauds, he ignores it.

"Moral support, darlin'. How you doin'?"

"Oh, that's so sweet!" She blushes and smiles at him like a fangirl. "Um, I'm okay I guess." She indicates the stage she's standing on. "I've sort of got to do this but we can talk later?" He smiles at her, nods, and waves her to continue.

"Next question?" She's still glancing up at Nightwing and blushing like crazy.

"Um, yeah. So if Nightwing has the best ass, have you seen it in person?"

Supergirl looks a bit nonplused, "He's really not as promiscuous as all the papers say. He's really sort of shy when you get to now him, you know." The camera switches to NW still in the balcony now making out with a twenty-something man on his lap. Supergirl stares at him for a long moment… "I'm sure I don't know. He keeps his personal life pretty personal." One of the regulars walks into frame, dressed as Joker. He stops next to Supergirl, licks his forefinger and touches his ass, making a hissing sound, looks up at Nightwing in the balcony and heads straight downstage to find his way upstairs.

"You work with him sometimes, right? Have you ever actually seen his ass? I mean you can do a lot with undergarments and padding and surgery and stuff—is that really his ass?"

"C'mon. Look, Nightwing is a very sweet guy and he works really hard. He works all the time. In fact sometimes he's really tired because he's always working and all those rumors are really mean .I don't want to be rude or anything but are there any questions for me?" Silence. "I have superpowers..." Silence. "Did you know that Superman is my cousin?" Silence. "Honest, we're actually related." Silence. "We're space aliens. From another planet. We can shoot rays from our eyes…" Camera shot of NW still in the balcony seat now getting amorous with three ushers, male and female. He is largely buried under them. There are no complaints.

"But is Nightwing really as big a slut as I've heard? Last week the Enquirer said…"

"That is so mean! He's a big sweetheart and he's like a big brother to me most of the time. He'd never—hardly ever—act like that and this is…" She flustered. "Lorne? Lorne!"

Lorne Michaels stands by the main camera, unconcerned, drinking a cup of coffee and signing an autograph while a makeup woman pats base on his face. "Problem?"

"Have you been listening to this? All anyone wants to know is if Nightwing is, is…you know! It's rude and no one wants to ask me anything and it's just so…" She composes herself for a second. "You said that everyone would want to ask me questions and all they want to know about is Nightwing's butt and it's just not fair…"

"Now, now." Michaels is soothing, unconcerned. "I'm sure people are just curious, nothing to worry about at all. I'll take care of it; we just want you to be happy, all right?" He looks up to the balcony. "Nightwing? Excuse me?" Nightwing is now surrounded by a small flock of sheep and ignores the question. Michaels turns back to Supergirl, who is staring in horror. "Nightwing, excuse me." He finally, reluctantly, looks down at Lorne on the main floor.

"Yes?" The sheep wander around the balcony.

"Wing, I'd appreciate if you could maybe not distract the performers." He sips his coffee. "It's unprofessional. Makes me look bad."

Batman leans into frame, kissing Nightwing on the cheek and taking his hand as he pulls Nightwing to his feet, ready to leave. "He'll be spanked for this."

Nightwing and Batman exchange private smiles.

11/20/06