Do you know what that sound is? That flapping sound above me? Hmm? Can you not hear it? Maybe you're crazy. Or deaf. Either way, you deserve to be in here more than I do. I haven't done anything wrong. I'm an expressive. I just…do. That's all. Once again, I just do things. Why do you… bats. That sound above me. Flapping of little wings. I knew I was being watched. The Batsie is watching me. Spying on me through his little minions. SHUT UP LITTLE SPAWN OF MY ENEMY!! He won't get to me. I refuse to be laughed at, Batsie.

To understand better why you need a personal computer, let's look at the pathetic mess you call your life.

\m/.\m/

"So did you leave a tip?" She asked immediately. I knew she thought I was lying, that I just wanted to shove a tooth pick up that guy's nose.

"I did leave a tip. They will enjoy this one even more."

"What did you do?"

It was an accusation. I shrugged and smiled innocently. I hadn't been innocent for years. I didn't say anything to her, though she knew I had done something wicked.

"I haven't known you, but for a couple of hours and you are growing on me, evil and all."

"Evil?" I laughed it off, but she seemed as serious as a plane crashing on a cookie cutter family home. Well, serious for normal people. "You don't know the meaning of the word."

"I do. You just have to be around the right people."

I looked into her face as she drove and wondered what she could possibly know about evil. Her full lipped mouth was set in serious lines and the way the shadows hit her, she looked like a scene from a cemetery, and trust me, I'd been in plenty. I asked, "What nefarious trouble have you gotten yourself into?"

She didn't look at me, but instead continued on down the road, driving at what seemed like a legal speed. From somewhere behind us, a loud boom sounded. Carnage flew past the windows. Glass and wood and concrete flew from the now destroyed diner. Anabella looked at me dubiously.

"Anabella, what have you been through to earn such an unhappy visage?" I asked smiling.

She gave me a sideways glance before saying, "What have you been through to make you hate people so much?"

"Touché. But I don't hate people. I hate their ideas." I waited a moment. "No, you're right. I hate people. But can you really blame me, I mean they're so…"

"Abominable? Disgusting? Cockroaches in the garden heap of society?"

I just stared at her. I had never met anyone who shared my opinions and ideals the way Anabella and I had on that night. I readjusted myself deeper into my seat, thinking about what she had said. Was she like me, slowly tipping over the edge of insanity? Not that I was crazy. I was the sanest person I knew. To be crazy would just make me question my own sanity. I said quickly, "You are one of a kind."

"There is plenty of my kind actually; too many to even distinguish between us all. It's so tiresome."

I laughed. "Yes, it is. Do you want to hear another joke?"

"Will it make me laugh?"

"I hope so. You have such a pretty smile." The comment just leapt out of my mouth, as if it was headed into battle with a sword-cane thrusting out in front of it, screaming 'CHARGE!!' at nothing in particular. I watching the comment battle the dust in the air for a moment before realizing, Anabella was staring at me as only a distracted person driving a vehicle and trying not to kill us can do.

"What?" I asked.

"The joke?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. Okay then. A police officer pulls a man over. He goes up to the guy's window and says, 'sir, I need you to take this breathalyzer test for me.' The man says 'I can't do that officer. If I blow into that, I'll get a really bad asthma attack and die.' The officer says 'okay then, I'll need you to come by the station and let us take a blood sample.' The man replies, 'I can't do that either. You see, I'm a hemophiliac and if you take my blood, I'll die.' The officer nods and says, 'I'll need a urine sample then.' The man shakes his head and says, 'Sorry, I can't do that, I have low blood sugar.' The officer says, 'Then I'll need you to come out here and walk this white line for me please.' The man says, 'I can't do that.' The officer asks why not and the man says, 'I'm too drunk for that.'"

Anabella chuckled. The sound of it made me smile as well. She said, "You don't have a bad smile, either, Jack. You should smile more."

I was captivated at that moment. It was as if I'd been waiting forever for the right person to come along and say, 'hey, people suck, let's go kill them off' and she'd just described every gruesome way one could imagine Rwandan torture methods with demonstrations by her own very skilled, very crafty, beautiful hands on an unwilling, unsuspecting crazy white man.

Was that weird?

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." I didn't lie. There was no point. People saw through it. I wasn't very good at it, you see, so I just stopped.

"Oh really? Just me?"

"Basically."

"What about me?" She raised her eyebrows in amusement. I knew that she was amused by the way her mouth was curved upward into a smile.

"How you would demonstrate Rwandan torture methods with your beautiful hands on a crazy white man."

She laughed once again. After that, we hit it off like a couple of crack heads nursing our addictions. No, not what you think. She was the flipside of my coin, the sun in my day, my everything. She moved in with me into what I called the Asylum. It was my little apartment on the riverfront where I dumped the bodies.  There was no furniture, except a mattress that we slept on and a little wooden box to keep the TV. We had late nights laughing, telling jokes. When she was ready to fall asleep, I would wrap her in my arms and sing quietly. When we woke up, she would head to the small kitchen and make coffee, then kiss me and say good morning.

I was so in love. I hadn't known what the word meant until then. I didn't know what else it could've been. She was my world, all I knew. When I didn't something, would it make her happy, should I pick up some flowers after work for her, what should I bring home for dinner tonight, do you need me to pick up ammo for your glock, can I give you a back rub, sweetie? It was almost an obsession to make her the happiest woman alive.

\m/.\m/

Christmas Day. I woke up with Anabella beside me, the best gift I could've ever asked for from the jolly obese man. She looked like an angel, with her blonde hair falling around her face, soft pink lips parted as she snored. I unwound my arms from her sleeping figure and made my way down the hallway of Anabella's apartment. The white familiar wall led me to the kitchen, where I began the hunt for a nice holiday breakfast. Ten minutes, a couple of calls to the fire department assuring them that everything was not fine, that I couldn't make my girlfriend a decent holiday meal, and a request to go out for breakfast, I gave up on the meal. I realized cooking wasn't as easy as I thought it was. In about ten minutes, I single-handedly destroyed Bella's kitchen and swore off homemade donuts for the rest of my life. So I sat down at the table and read the obituary column.

"What's wrong, Jack?"

I looked up to see Bella wrapped in a t-shirt at the edge of the hallway.

"Jesus is it safe to come in?" she took a long look at what I had done to the oven and counters. The floors had hole in them where a homemade concoction slipped through the glasses I had been using to make the dough.

"The fire department called. Your floors may be a little weak from the fire and they suggest you get me out to breakfast before I do any more damage to the structure of your apartment. Coffee?" I rose to my feet and greeted her with a kiss.

"Did you destroy my oven?"

I glanced at the charred remains and back again. "No I think it's fine."

"Then let me cook. Merry Christmas. And Santa's not in the closet. I checked." She said, smiling.

I looked at her dubiously. "He wouldn't be in the closet. He wouldn't fit. Did you check the bathtub though? He might try to hide."

"I will see him when I get in the shower. Now. What do you want for breakfast?"

"I don't eat breakfast. I was cooking for you. I don't eat until after the first run of my day."

She looked a little disappointed, so I said quickly, "But I can go out and make my runs and come back and eat with you."

She turned with a full face smile gracing her face. "Okay. Promise?" She held out her pinky so I could take it for the full promise, the whole shebang. She looked so innocent standing there , hair falling into her face, blue eyes trained on me, waiting for me to take her hand.

Instead I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her forehead. "Do you think I would leave?" I took her pinky and wrapped it in mine, then kissed her outstretched thumb, a motion we'd done before. She smiled beautifully and hopped around me to the stove and turned it on.

"Please be careful with that. It's like a dragon; it tries to eat people."

"I'll grab a sword and shield. Get dressed so you can come back quickly."

I did so. I had recently taken to wearing more blues. I didn't understand why until much later, but that is for later on in this story. So I wore a suit and tie, the one that Bella bought me for my birthday. Along with the deck of trick-out cards and the joke book that I still bother her with. Annabella was…indescribable. She was smart, funny, sexy, beautiful…. Everything I could ever dream of in a woman. The woman standing in the next room, wishing me a Merry Christmas, sleeping beside me so that I wouldn't have bad dreams, giving me the greatest moments of my life.

This was the woman for me. I knew it from the first moment I saw her shoot off a man's kneecap and cradle that huge gun of hers in her hand. From the first time she accepted me, made me level-headed, watched while I killed…

This was the woman I wanted to marry.

The moment I had thought this, my skin crawled. Not in a bad way, but in a way that was like decapitating babies, in a way that excited me, like blowing up an under-cover ice-cream truck that housed the minions of Santa's Army (hereafter known as SA^). It was a revelation that could not- would not- be ignored.

After I dressed, I hurried to the kitchen where Bella awaited. "Heading out now?"

I nodded quietly, thinking about what I'd just revealed to myself. Would she accept a proposal? Could I actually follow through? I could handle explosions and deaths and falling 300 feet through the air off a building. Women, though. A whole other playing card. A whole other instrument of destruction.

"Yeah. I'm headed out." I wrapped her in my arms and she kissed my cheek. "Bella…"

"Oh, Jack please don't use that tone of voice. You sound so serious."

I looked down at her as she smiled, watching her face fall as she looked at me. She said worriedly, "What's wrong, baby? Do I have to kill someone, because I'd rather do it while I'm out and about later getting groceries for this evening's dinner plans."

"As long as I don't cook." I said, motioning to the blackened appliances. "Even the toaster didn't make it out alive."

She chuckled, renewing my smile. "Thatta boy. Be back soon?"

"Promise." I wiggled my pinky at her once more and she took it and kissed me. As I headed for the door, she called to me, "Be safe."

As I fingered the gun in my pocket I assured her I would and left that little apartment.

I headed toward the back alleys of Gotham City, towards the cities most powerful, most ruthless of the bad guys. The Gotham City Mob bosses. Of course you didn't call them that being respectful. They were Gotham's wealthy, powerful, and dangerous. You had to be careful. And I'd been thrown to the sharks years ago. Carmine Falcone, the big boss, the head of the Falcone crime organization had a very special task for me, and if I'd failed, I was 'swimming with the sharks' as they call it. But I always do my job. Staying alive, killing for money. It was a hobby instead of a job. And I was good at it.

It was a little restaurant/bar that we met in when I had an appointment. He always ordered the steak burger off the menu with a coke and side of mashed potatoes. I ordered nothing. Carmine Falcone sat in front of me, relaxed, without a care while he ate his juicy burger and dipped his greasy, fat fingers in the potatoes. The sight of him almost made me gag.

"Now Jack. You know the routine. You bring these men to my own sense of judgment, and I pay you for your services. Now I don't like to brag on you to my buddies, but you're one hell of a catch, kid."

I didn't say a word. Didn't smile. Didn't offer a joke. He took a couple of gulps of the caffeinated drink of his and slid two envelopes to me. "Payment and the list of your next… clients. Don't disappoint me, boy."

I got up, pocketing the thick envelopes and started to leave. Carmine called me back.

"Hey, kid, I hear down at the office that you're one funny guy. Is that true?"

"I have my moments, sir. My own sense of humor."

"Tell me a joke."

I hesitated. The body guard next to me elbowed me to continue. I almost said no. I saved my humor for Annabella and my clients, or vics as I like to called them. Not for men like Falcone. But you didn't say no to the friggin' mob boss. It just wasn't an option. Not with ten guys around you to make sure you did what you're told. So I began with a joke.

"Yesterday, scientists revealed that beer contained small traces of female hormones. To prove their theory, they fed one hundred men twelve pints of beer and observed that 100% of them started talking nonsense and couldn't drive."

Falcone waited a minute, thinking that I wasn't done with the joke. Then his face lit up. "HA!" he started, smacking the table, laughing. "That's a good one! Tell me another!"

I was surprised by his reaction. I personally didn't see anything funny in the joke, just that it made fun of women and scientists. I shrugged. "Okay… I bet I can make you speak like a Red Indian."

He cocked his head to the side and said, "How?"

"See, I told you."

He chuckled. "You're one strange man, Jack. I like having you around."

"Is that so, Mr. Falcone?"

"Yes it is, Mr. Napier and I think it's time you and I talked about a raise in your pay."

I didn't want to accept anything extra from him. I was a coward, and didn't want to mess in the affairs of the mob. "I wouldn't dream of it, Carmine Falcone. I must take my leave. I have a beautiful woman at home awaiting my return. Happy hunting."

"Merry Christmas, Jack. We will talk again real soon."

I hoped to a higher power that wouldn't happen. I know it was strange, but I was afraid of that man. He had too much on his record for someone, even me to ignore.

But as it turns out, the mob pays considerably well these days. With crime soaring, money comes in real fast and while crime soars I get paid to take them down. I might've worked with the police if I didn't enjoy killing too much. I retrieved the pocket of money from my coat and looked inside. I knew how much was there. How much I had to spend for Christmas, maybe on something a little more traditional, maybe something more…

Maybe on something like a ring. I hurried down to the bus station, hoping to catch something that would take me to where I needed to go. And I'd decided.

While Annabella waited at home, I hopped the bus and hurried to the nearest jewelry store.

I'd decided. I would marry that woman with her big guns and perfect smile and charming attitude towards society. She was my other half, the flipside to my blackened coin.

I loved her.

That night after Christmas dinner while we were watching Bram Stoker's Dracula, I proposed. I paused the movie with a click of the remote and turned to face her. "Bella. There's something I have to say to you."

"Is everything okay, Jack?"

"It's more than okay, Bella. Everything's great. I've never been happier. I have something to ask you, Bella."

"Just spit it out then." She said lightly, smiling, encouraging me to continue.

I sat down on the floor in front of her, on one knee and retrieved the little box from my coat pocket.

"Annabella, you are the most amazing woman I've ever met in my life. You're beautiful, and strong and you love me for who and what I am, though both of those may be horrific and terrifyingly wrong."

She had her hand covering her mouth. She brought her knees to her chest and began to shake.

I continued, hoping all of this was a good sign. "You're brilliant and ruthless and to be honest, you scare me a little because women are hell on wheels if you ask me, but Bella, I love you. I am convinced that you are the perfect woman and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you." She made a small sound in the back of her throat as I opened the black velvet jewelry box and took her hand. "Will you-"

She jumped out of her seat at that moment, tackling me to the ground, crying. "Yes!" and sniffing and laughing. "I will marry you, you sadistic, evil, no good killing machine of destruction! And yes I will hunt Santa Clause and his little minions of evil with you!"

And that was the beginning of our new life.