This Business of Love (Chapter 2: Ipkiss and Batz)

"What the holy hell?!" yelled Stanley, jumping back several feet.

The terrifying man held a small card in his gloved fingers, which he read.

"Stanley Ipkiss...," came his bottom-of-the-barrel voice. "...Seriously? That's your name?"

The horrified look in Stanley's eyes quickly morphed into indignation. "Who wants to know?" he demanded.

The man tossed away the card, and replied, "I'm known as the Batman."

Stanley stared.

"Okaaayyyy..." Stanley finally said. "Commenting on the strangeness of this situation would probably make me a hypocrite, so instead I'll ask: why are you here?"

The huge man leaped down from his perch in a menacing whirl of black fabric and animal mystique. Stanley stumbled out of the way, and gripped the back of his chair instinctively.

The Batman was very tall; so tall that his cape did not touch the floor when he walked. He gazed out over the rooftops and beyond, to the night clouds drifting behind the skyscrapers of Edge City.

"I've received intelligence that my nemesis, the Joker, is vacationing in your city," he boomed.

Stanley relaxed a bit, and laughed sardonically. "Why would he take a vacation in Edge City, of all places?"

The Batman gestured at the clouds. "It must be because the methane emissions are so nice this time of year."

Stanley laughed. "No, really. Why?"

The Batman turned, and smiled at Stanley.  The latter found this very unsettling. 

"You laughed. I'll have to remember that one," said the Batman. "The Joker doesn't think I have a sense of humor. I guess that's not completely accurate."

"My confidence in you is growing ev-e-ry minute..." Stanley muttered under his breath.

The Batman explained, "I believe the Joker may be after your mask. He will only use it for nefarious purposes."

"Wait, my mask?" blurted Stanley, now gripping the back of the chair with two hands. "How do you know about all that?"

"You're more well-known than you think, Stanley," said the Batman, turning to gaze out over the city rooftops.  He folded his massive arms.  "I keep up with the news. Did you really think a conga line in the city park with the entire ECPD would go unreported?"

Stanley blushed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, garsh, Batman. We were only having a bit of fun..."

"Also," the Batman added, without looking at Stanley. "Your dog was out today, messing with the Loki mask. Caused quite a stir with a female Jack Russell terrier at the Coco BowWow."

Stanley stared at him. 

"Coco... BowWow...?" he managed.

"Yes," replied the Batman, his tone totally matter-of-fact. "There's a whole part of this city frequented only by dogs. They apparently have a night club to mirror your popular watering hole."

Skeptical, Stanley arched an eyebrow. 

"And how would you know about this part of the city, if, indeed, it actually exists?" he challenged.

"Don't worry.  I have my contacts."

Stanley's mouth dropped open, both his eyebrows climbing high.  He muttered darkly, "Wow. Not even gonna go there... Nope!"

To the Batman, he said: "Um... so are you asking me to do something about this Joker character?"

The Dark Knight of Gotham turned and planted both gloves on the table in front of Stanley, his mountainous shoulders and biceps rippling ever so slightly.  This was so intimidating, that Stanley let go the chair and warily took a step back.

"I want you to stake out the Coco Bongo Club," the Caped Crusader declared.  "From what I've observed, it's exactly the sort of retro, jiving hot spot he likes. It'll be like a moth to a flame."

Stanley considered this information.  He shrugged.  "Well, this Joker's got good taste, I'll give him that."

"Also, he will have informed himself about your antics of late and he'll presume to find you there. I want you to draw him out into the open, and I'll bag him before he does any harm."

Stanley frowned, and touched a finger to his chin. "Are you sure it's such a good idea getting that close to him while wearing the mask? I thought I had to protect the thing, not tease him with it..."

"True," said the Batman, straightening to his full height. "But hiding from the Joker will only prolong the inevitable."

Stanley stared at him. 

Then he buried his face in his hand to stifle juvenile laughter.

The Batman's anonymous white eyes narrowed dangerously.  This chilling sight turned Stanley's laughter sheepish and pitiful.

"Why is that funny?" the statuesque man irritably inquired.

Stanley wiped his eyes, and managed, "I... really don't know."

The Batman nodded. "You know, I think I understand your problem with Tina now."

Stanley was aghast.  "What?! You were listening the whole time?!"  His forehead fell into his palm, and he moaned, "Well, that's just flippin' fantastic..."

The Batman dropped a heavy hand on the young man's shoulder.  "Hey, focus on this job I'm giving you, and it might help you take your mind off her."

"Yeah, right, because slumming at the Coco Bongo, the club where she performs, is exactly how I'm gonna do that," Stanley retorted.

"And where would you be otherwise? Hunkering down with mint chip ice cream and Red Hot Riding Hood?"

Stanley was stunned.  He glanced at the huge man's meaty fist on his shoulder, then at his dark, cowled visage.  He stepped out of the mans' grasp and put a few paces between them.  He demanded, "Have you been in my apartment?!"

"No," the Batman assured him.  "Your VHS tape was sitting on the nightstand near the window, and your dog was sneaking some ice cream in the afternoon. He jumped up and yanked open the freezer with his teeth."

Stanley was silent. 

"That... doesn't surprise me as much as it should," he admitted.

"He must have been really depressed after his date," the Batman suggested.  "Or maybe the date just made him really tired-"

"Hey! Leave Milo out of this!" Stanley interrupted.  "Look, fine. I'll take the job." 

He sighed, and stared back into the anonymous eyeholes in the Batman's hood.  "Wow, I never expected innuendo to come of that scary black cowl..."

The Batman smiled, folding his arms with satisfaction. "You don't know who I am in the daytime."

"Yeah, I think both you and I would rather it stayed that way," Stanley put in quickly. 

Then he had a thought. "Y'know, in detective movies, when the private eye says 'I'll take the job', you never see him getting paid. You're not paying me for this, are you?"

Like a jagged cleft in a high rock face, the Batman's mouth opened to admit the word, "No."

Stanley hastily nodded, and he turned around to gesture at the folorn, largely neglected dinner spread.  He was sarcastic.  "Right.... I forgot.  I'm just full of green and this dinner was just a drop in the bucket..."

When Stanley turned back to face his conversant, the Batman was gone.

Well, that was convenient, Stanley thought.

He sighed, and affected a Brooklyn accent. "Well, guess it's time to go case the joint. But first..."

He grabbed the door handle and stalked down the stairs to his apartment, shouting, "Milo!"