"What matters to you, and why?" He asked

"What matters to you, and why?" He asked me. I paused and replied: "What matters to me is most certainly the Southern California drywall strike." He looked baffled and I

took the opportunity to whack him over the head with a frying pan. Out like a light. Good, now I could set my plan in motion. What matters to me, indeed. Stupid intrusive surveys.

I logged onto my laptop, creating a sure-fire plan to flee the scene without discovery. *knock* I'M BATMAN.

Ofcourse leaving the message "I'M BATMAN" was a ruse. The caped crusader subscribes to an archaic acultural vigilantism which is the antithesis of my "fight crime with crime" I AM

BATMAN' was his attempt to muddy the waters in case he ever faces charges for his vigilantism. It was bound to happen someday. Even the Fake News would have its day, they say. Why

shouldn't it, when nobody knows what is real or fake any more, anyhow. Maybe we never did. How should we know? Still, Batman was unnerved when he read the morning papers. He had

always looked forward to reading Ziggy first thing in the day; that was what the crime-fighting was really all about. But Bruce Wayne was dismayed to see Ziggy missing.

"Holy Bat-meltdown! What's wrong, Bruce? You look so downtrodden and defeated! Cheer up, my gallant friend. Here is the rest of the funny pages. Look, there's Dagwood there's Garfi

-del hating mondays and everything!" But Bruce didn't even look at the page. He stared blankly at the wall and a drible of spit in a thin strand fell of the corner of his mouth

now he could see everything in a clearer way. his thoughts went to his childhood when he was a clever boy. the last image of his life was a bicycle. a gift from mom. bye