Thanks to all-good-girls-go-to-heaven, michelle1203, Salamara, and HelenaTwilight for the reviews! Oh yeah, I don't own the song!
I stayed hidden under a nearby dock until the fuss died down. I could hear Genesis's tormented crying as clear as crystal from where I was. It was a sound that would haunt me to my death and knowing that I caused it didn't help.
After all the spectators and cops left I heard voices of my henchmen coming from the dock.
"Where is he?"
"Maybe he got caught."
I rolled my eyes, no one seems to think much of me that day! First the cops think I'll surrender so easily and now my henchmen think that I could be caught that easily! Do I look like Scarecrow or somebody? That guy barely put up a fight!
"Wow, that hurt." I said, making my way up the shore and to my men, not caring that it was below freezing outside and I was soaking wet. "It didn't hurt physically it hurt emotionally. Now, that's the worst kind of hurt you can do to a guy."
"Sorry Boss." The fat guy in the Happy clown mask says. I don't know any of their names and nor do I want to.
"Don't call me boss. This isn't a cartoon, comic or movie." I say and shoot him for it.
"We found a guy who'll make ya a Batsuit Bo- I mean, Sir." The tall strong guy in the Dopey mask says. "Problem is, he's all the way in Jersey and it won't come cheap." He says. I don't care much for his voice. It's deep and nasally and he tends to slur like Sylvester Stalone.
"I've got a rich wife. Money isn't an issue. Now, let's get to Jersey!" I exclaim.
Being crammed in an SUV with five other men reminded me all to well of the time I had to share a hotel room with Gen's father and my own. It smells worse in the SUV though. I'm not entirely sure that these guys know that it's socially acceptable for guys to wear deodorant now.
For a while I'm lost in my thoughts. Thoughts of my plans and what I'll do as Batman. Thoughts of Genesis and random thoughts that pop up out of nowhere. Most of my thoughts rarely make any sense. Others are like dead end roads that I never finish thinking about when another comes to mind. It's all quite confusing, actually. Then, a song on the radio pulls me from my thoughts.
'We're lookin' back laughin' 'cause they called us crazy. We were young, we were wild, we were restless. Had to go, had to fly - had to get away. Took a chance on that feelin' - baby. We were lovin' blind - borderline reckless. We were livin' for the minute we were spinnin' in. Maybe we were a lot of things. But we weren't crazy' That's me and Gen's song. I don't want to hear anymore. I take out my gun and shoot the radio. Nobody says anything, but they all flinch. They learn to expect the unexpected from me.
We get to our destination around three in the morning. The guy who'll make my Batsuit lives in the middle of nowhere. I like that. More private. When I lay eyes on the guy I snort back a laugh and resist the urge to yell "hey, your Monk!" This guy could be a dead ringer for Tony Shalhoub. Turns out his real name is Christopher O'Neil and he used to work for the FBI making disguises. Alas, he got greedy and corrupt and began accepting orders for disguises from criminals and was fired.
The first thing he does is measure me. That was weird! I made sure O'Neil felt just as awkward as I did. Though, I kept it hidden.
"Hey, this isn't Brokeback Mountain!" I say as he measures my inseam.
Afterwards, Happy Clown gives him pictures of Batman.
"Is there anything you want changed?" O'Neil asks me, examining the pictures.
"Yeah. I don't want them to be able to see my wonderful smile." I say, smilingly dangerously. That freaked him out.
It took four and half days for the suit to be made. After it's all done, I stabbed him in the heart and carved him a smile and we all leave. Time to go back to Gotham.