Chapter 2: Flash

It was Friday evening, Wally's monitor duty shift was almost over. He had the entire weekend before him and not a damn thing on his speedster's schedule to look forward to. The lonely life of a bachelor, he knew, although he hoped no one else did. He did, after all, have a "ladies man" reputation to uphold. Now, if he could only convince the women of the League that he didn't do everything at top speed, he could get a date and catch a break.

Bored, Wally spun in his chair. Over and over and over, increasing the speed as he went, until—dammit—the piece of crap Wayne chair cracked, bucked, and heaved Flash across the room and against a wall.

Fly meet wall—crash.

Fly zero.

Wall one.

Wally slid down the wall—head over ass—and onto the hard floor. Cool. Real cool. Good thing none of the ladies were around to see this latest catastrophe.

Yet . . .

Black boots met barely opened eyes. Ah, hell. Almost as worse as making a fool of myself in front of Dinah or Shayera.

"What have I told you about sleeping on the job?"

"Nothing. You told me to not drool on the expensive equipment while I slept. I took that to mean I should use a bib the next time I took a nap while on duty."

Wally swore the Bat narrowed his eyes at him, but he could never be sure with those lenses the man hid behind. But his snarled words of, "I can order a bib for you, if you like. Either that or a child-safety harness for the new chair you will be purchasing."

With more than a little effort, Wally pushed his aching body from the floor. He hated sharing monitor duty with Batman. The guy really needed to loosen that utility belt of his and learn how to have a bit of fun. Not face-against-the-wall kind of fun, though, but watching nude women's wrestling, scratch-your-balls-when-you think-no one-is-watching, and hit-on-hot-drunk chicks kind of fun.

As it was, the onetime Wally was pretty sure the Batman actually took a piss Wally had to be caught with his ass up and head down, like some kind of porn star, when the alpha male of the League returned. And—thank god—Batman was standing in front of Wally instead of behind him or the scene would've taken on a level of bromance Wally wasn't that bored to engage in.

"How about a race?"

"A what?"

"A race, something to get the blood and juices flowing. I'm bored, and when I'm bored I like to race. Me versus your Batmobile. So what do you say?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Batman turned away from Wally and to the computer screens. There was nothing of importance going on, no matter how hard the Batman glared at the images. For once, all was relatively quiet around the world, or at least the dangers that did present themselves didn't require the Justice League's intervention. Believe it or not, local law enforcement were capable of taking care of most of their problems.

"Ask someone else."

Of course Batman would say that. The man had no imagination or real sense of daring. Because, really, red was the new black. Black was just . . . well, as boring as Batman.

As boring as the rest of this Friday will be unless I find something fun to do.

Knowing Batman was a dead end, Wally headed out convinced he could find someone who'd be interested in a quick race around the world.

After being turned down by Shazam, Superman, and Wonder Woman, Wally felt even more bored. His friends were a bunch of dullards who wouldn't know a good time if it landed in front of them looking like Darkseid in a thong and stilettos.

Frustrated, Wally changed clothes then beamed down to Washington, D.C. Maybe there he could find some action and kill a few hours. It seemed like racing was out, unless, of course, he had Cyborg beam him to Kingston, Jamaica. Usain Bolt owed the Flash for the tips he'd given him before the 2008 Olympics. But the man had gone all arrogant on Wally after being dubbed "Lightning Bolt."

As if.

Wally didn't know why he was messing around trying to find someone to race against him. Even if he found a worthy opponent, the challenge would be over in a matter of seconds. Then he would be right back to where he began, bored and needing an outlet for his abundance of energy.

His mother once told him that some people only needed a little smack upside their head to get them straight.

Wally smiled. He knew plenty of people who could use a quick smack upside their head. And who better to give it to them than the Scarlet Speedster? Better yet, no one would ever know it was Wally West who'd delivered the blow, but they would remember it, perhaps the next time they are about to do something really stupid.

Like spinning like a fool in a three thousand dollar Wayne Enterprises chair until it broke.

He vibrated until the red of his uniform appeared, revealing the Flash and his brilliant plan to end boredom.

This is going to be epic. Now for my list of victims . . . I mean poor souls I intend to help see the light.

Five minutes later, Flash had his mental list. It was a long one, long enough to take him through the weekend. Well, he would just see how far he got in his list tonight. Saturday was hours away, no need planning for that tonight.

He reviewed his list again, sorting people demographically and mapping the most efficient route.

Since he was already in the nation's capital, that would cover a good third of his list. He could spend an entire evening in this city alone, doling out deserving smacks upside the head. As it was, he began at the White House and swiftly worked his way to the Capitol and Supreme Court, smacking politicians, judges, lobbyists, and news reporters upside their biased and judgmental heads, saying as he did so, "Report on this." Smack. Then, because he had time and they were overdue for a lesson in civic responsibility and accountability, Flash circled D.C. twice more, adding a few drug dealers, pimps, and cyberbullies to his list.

There were enough smacks to go around.

Up and down the East Coast Flash went. He'd just double-smacked Chris Christie and it had felt good to bring the New Jersey governor to his hefty knees. But Flash made sure to get out of there before Christie had one of his aides shut off Flash's route out of town.

Yet there was one place he had to go before he moved on to the rest of the United States.

Just as Batman stood over a downed and defeated Bane, breathing heavy from the fight, fists still balled, a big shit eating grin on his face . . . Smack!

THE END