Chapter 7

As soon as they entered the bar, Batman began to feel a little uncomfortable. "Crane, let's go somewhere else."

"Why? I want to stay here."

"People are staring."

Crane scrunched his face at him. "Are you just noticing?"

Batman groaned. "Please, I just don't want to be here."

"Oh don't take yourself so seriously, Bats. Have a drink."

"I don't drink, Crane."

"Maybe you should try," Crane suggested, leading Batman to the bar.

"Not while I'm watching over you!" Crane glanced up, annoyed.

"Can you please stop saying that? It's rather condescending."

"You lost my trust when you abandoned me in the fun tube!"

"That's in the past now, Bats."

"It was 4 HOURS AGO!"

"Oh, look!" Crane exclaimed, no longer listening. "A mechanical bull!" Batman stood next to him and gazed at the bull.

"Very nice."

Crane stared at Batman expectantly. "Bet you couldn't stay on it for more than 5 minutes." Batman shot a glare towards Crane.

"You're right. I probably couldn't!"

"Hmmm…" Crane murmured, rubbing his chin dramatically. "It seems to me that there's certain information regarding Gotham that I supposedly have… I wonder what it was…"

"All right, Crane. You've made your point. But this time you're going too far. If I really want that information, all I need to do is hold you over the edge of a tall building. I doubt anyone would miss you."

"Yes, but if you throw me off of a building, what are the odds of me giving you that information then?" Batman opened his mouth, but was unable to reply. Crane grinned victoriously and patted the bull's saddle. "Hop on."

Batman stormed towards the bull and clumsily mounted it. "We might need some quarters. Here. I have some in my-"

"Left boot?" Crane suggested. "I know. I already have some. You know, your boots must be quite thick. I've been sneaking money out of them all day and you haven't felt a thing." Exhausted from glaring, Batman sat in silence, waiting for Crane to put the quarters into the slot.

"Ok, Bats. On the count of 3 it will start. One…"

"Two…" Batman counted. But before he reached the next number, he found himself being mercilessly thrashed. "You said three, Crane!" he yelled, grasping at the reins.

"I did? Sorry. I meant two." After several seconds, Crane was no longer amused by this spectacle and decided to make his way to a barstool. "Give me… whatever's on draft."

"Will your friend want anything?" the bartender asked, reaching for a beer mug and gesturing towards the madly abused Batman.

"He might by the time he's off that bull," Crane murmured with a devious grin.

************************************************************************

Apparently, when Crane said that he had selected a five-minute setting on the bull, he had lied.

Batman wondered why it had taken so long for Crane to insert quarters into the bull. It turned out that this was due to the fact that Crane was preparing to keep Batman on the bull for a full thirty minutes. Batman had somehow managed to stay mounted for the full time frame. However, as soon as he was able to jump off, he felt the room spinning about him and soon realized that he was vomiting… all over the bull.

"Better clean it," the bartender warned, pushing a mop and bucket towards him. Of course Batman's first reaction was to call Alfred and make him deal with it. But by doing so, there was always the risk of giving away his identity. Therefore, he lifted the mop and slowly began to clean the bull. It only took him a few minutes to clean his mess, but when he looked around, a sense of panic filled him. Crane was no longer sitting at the bar.

"Hey! Over here, Bats!" a voice called from behind him. He sighed with relief as soon as he saw Crane. "So tell me something… If I had decided to run away… What excuse would you have given to Gordon? Would it be that I ran away when you were stuck in a McDonald's fun tunnel or when you were busy blowing digested Big Mac all over a mechanical bull?"

"I need something to drink," Batman said miserably, ignoring the question.

"Here," Crane said, holding out a cup. "I bought you water."

Batman took several large gulps before beginning to cough violently. "That's not water!"

"Oh… Did I say water? I meant straight vodka."

Batman looked up, slightly shocked. "You drugged me?"

"Come now, Bats," Crane said, pulling him towards the opposite side of the bar. "Considering our history, is it really that surprising? At least this time I'm not catching you on fire."

"I'm grateful," Batman mumbled, crossing to the bar and purchasing a bottle of Powerade.

"Hey Bats… I've got an idea… You have a pretty good aim, right?" Crane whispered.

"Yes. Why?"

"All right… Here's my plan… We play darts… pretend we're terrible at it… and then casually offer to play against some other guys. Then we'll beat them and look really awesome."

"Crane, I am Batman. I jump off of buildings and ride around in a tank… I don't need to be a dart champion to feel cool."

"You're a full grown man in a cape and a mask with pointy ears. You might want to reconsider."

Batman stared for a moment and eventually lifted a handful of darts. He threw one, which landed conspicuously close to the edge of the dartboard. "Oh no!" he said (or rather shouted). "It appears that I'm terrible at darts."

Crane tried to conceal a grin. He threw a dart in the same fashion. "Wow. I guess I'm fairly terrible too." They continued playing this way for several minutes before Batman noticed several men at a pool table talking quietly and glancing over at them.

"Crane! I think they're buying into it!" Batman whispered violently.

"All right. Stay calm. And please don't whisper. You're whisper's much louder than your regular… roar."

They continued playing and after about ten minutes, the men at the pool table approached.

"You two are pretty good," one said, smiling artificially.

"Care to play us?" Crane asked indifferently.

"Care to make it interesting?" the other asked.

Crane and Batman glanced at one another and grinned.