Disclaimer: Lihau does not own anything in this story. Not even the puppy pen. That belongs to... well, you'll see.
A/N: Hey, this is Lihau! I just wanted to, of course, apologize for the long wait between chapters. -cough- More than a month. -cough- So, I'm sorry! Also, I didn't go crazy with the editing for this chapter, so please feel free to point out any spelling errors and I'll try to fix it. I hope you enjoy this chappy or chappie or however the heck you wanna spell it!!
The Wrath of Batman
or
Falling: An Unfortunately Very True Story
PART FOUR
By Kid Flash
That puppy was evil.
Evil, I say!
Sure, it may look all cute and fuzzy, but there was no way in this existence that it was as innocent as it seemed! Anything that made Speedy and me work together willingly had to be either a goody-two-shoes angel or a pure-evil demon.
And that puppy pen was pure evil.
Why am I so down on the pen all of a sudden? Well, because right then it had somehow taken possession of both the archer's brain and mine and was helping us write a letter that looked suspiciously like some odd blackmail demand… to Batman!
Please, just kill me now.
Wait—did I say "the archer's brain and mine"? Ignore that.
We didn't have brains.
We were idiots.
We were trying to blackmail Batman.
Please kill me now!
-
About an hour later, Speedy and I were almost finished our rough draft of… that letter when the door to the study slid open. I practically fainted on the spot, and the Californian rapidly tore the paper into several pieces and stuffed them into his mouth, almost simultaneously slipping the EPP (Evil Puppy Pen) into his right boot.
If that was Batman at the door, I swore to myself that I—actually, I didn't swear anything to myself or to anybody else. I was too busy trying to stay conscious to think.
"What are you kids doing in here so late?" wondered our unexpected visitor—Superman!
"I know why you are on the satellite," the Man of Steel continued to me before turning to Speedy, "but shouldn't you be at home? And why are both of you awake?"
I couldn't even move my mouth at that point, let alone make some sort of noise.
On second thought, scratch that. I made a noise. In fact, it sounded vaguely like a mouse.
Superman raised an eyebrow at my little squeak, and looked back at the archer, asking, "Are you two okay?"
Speedy, face a weird shade of green thanks to the paper he still had stuck in his mouth, nodded squeamishly.
"Are you sure?" The Big Blue Boy Scout stepped closer to us. He apparently wasn't going to leave until he was certain that we were physically well and psychologically relatively stable.
"Yeah, we're good!" I finally managed to blurt out. "Neither of us could sleep so… Speedy snuck onto the satellite for something to do and I was awake, too, so we decided to just hang out a little."
Seeming slightly skeptical, Superman said to me, "I thought you said that you hated Speedy's guts." To Speedy, he added, "And you said that you hated Kid's something-that-no-ten-year-old-should-ever-say."
Speedy managed a sickly but very broad close-mouthed smile, giving me a friendly pat on the back as if to say 'I changed my mind'.
"…Alright," Superman responded slowly. "I just forgot something in here. I'll poke around for a while, then I'll take you back home, okay, Speedy?"
The Californian nodded quickly.
"Okay." And Superman set to 'poking around'. Why he didn't use his X-ray vision and get it overwith was beyond me. Maybe he wanted to keep an eye on us suspicious-looking people for a while longer.
I grabbed the wastebasket next to the desk and held it up to Speedy's mouth, hissing, "Spit it out!"
Of course, it was at this moment that Superman decided to turn around and, seeing the trash can held up to the archer's mouth, naturally assumed that Speedy was feeling really sick and rushed over.
When I say "rushed", what I really mean is that he flew over so quickly that several books fell off their shelves from the suction he created. True story.
Deciding to put the older hero's mind at ease, Speedy blurted, "I'm fine."
…
"Oh my—what's that in your mouth?!" Superman cut himself off anxiously.
Speedy and I stared wide-eyed at each other. Finally, I said quickly, "In his mouth? …Teeth! Right! Teeth, tongue, gums… lemme-check."
I turned the archer's head to one side and opened his jaw. Yuck! Gross in there. All the regular mouth-like stuff is bad enough, but with paper stuck in there?
Ewwwww!
Apparently, Superman had decided to use his X-ray vision by this time, because he remarked, "…Paper?" Much more sternly, he grabbed the trash can from me and held it up to Speedy, ordering, "Spit it out."
As soon as the archer had obeyed the command, Superman demanded, "What were you doing? You should know better than to put inedible things in your mouth!"
Mouth moving in several odd directions to remove all taste of paper, Speedy nodded before grimacing, "Yeah, I know…"
Trying to move the topic away from the letter, I asked Superman, "So-what-were-you-lookin'-for-anyway-huh?"
Looking very suspicious at the nervous question, he answered, "Just a present one of my coworkers gave me yesterday."
It was and still is kinda hard to imagine Superman having "coworkers", but hey. I guess that he has to have some sort of day job since he doesn't get paid for being Superman.
"Really-what?" I wondered.
"Well, it was my two-year anniversary at my job, so one guy gave me a gag present—a fuzzy pen capped with a little puppy." He explained, "I want to make sure I get it back before someone like Green Arrow finds it and thinks that I actually bought it for myself."
Speedy and I looked at each other.
"What? Did you find it?"
With a defeated sigh, the Californian pulled the pen out of his boot and handed it over to its owner.
"Uh, thank you…" Superman said almost curiously, slipping the pen into his belt. "Well, now that I have the pen, you'd better go home," he advised Speedy. "Come on."
And thus my blackmailing career came to a screeching halt, slamming into a brick wall and ripping apart atom by atom. Actually, that sounded a lot like what Batman was probably gonna do to me….