Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Batman (Vol. 1), Issue #609 – “Chapter 2: The Friend”! In the previous installment, Batman saves a little kid being held hostage for ten million smackeroonies. But before the F.B.I. shows up to collect the ransom money back, Catwoman steals that shit and gives it to her client Poison Ivy.

Will this issue be similarly as short? Will the whole Hush story amount to 500 total words? If I wanted to be amazed by a story called “Hush” I’d watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Which I will, now that I think about it!

Batman (Vol. 1), Issue #609 [January, 2003]
Written by: Jeph Loeb
“Chapter 2: The Friend”

Oracle (Barbara Gordon, which I only know because I’m playing some hella Batman: Arkham Asylum on the Xbox these days) is trying to contact Batman via the chip in his dumb ol’ brain, but he is unable to respond. We last left Batman about to get his ass completely obliterated by a bunch of street toughs carrying items like knives, crowbars, pipes, and Hello Kitty stuffed animals.

“You think he’s dead?” asks one guy.

“I saw him fall outta the sky,” says another. “Like one of them pigeons with a busted wing. I hear he ain’t even human.”

“What’dya mean ‘ain’t human’? He’s bleedin’!”

“How do ya know it’s human blood?”

Batman is totally splayed on the pavement dying of blunt force trauma-related injuries. One guy bends down to reach for the mask, but then green gas ekes out of little holes in Batman’s cowl. Chalk another one up for equipment that I didn’t know Batman had and will never have again. The guy reaching for the mask has been temporarily blinded, and this pisses off the rest of them. “That’s it. I’m gonna bust him up–”

He readies his pipe, but suddenly some fucking electric bolts shoot out of Batman’s tights and electrocutes the guy, I guess. Things are stupid so far, but they can’t be stupid forever, right? The third guy pulls out a gun. “Human or not, he dies now,” he says, pulling back the hammer. Batman is so paralyzed that he can’t even move his arms at all, let alone all willy-nilly.

But that’s ok, because Huntress appears on her motorcycle to kick jerks in the face with her big ol’ boot. “Step away while you still can,” she says, revving up her hogg. What ensues is four pages of grrrl power and ass kicking.

I will make you eat your own pipe, Petty Criminal #5!

BRAK! TAK! TOK! HAMD! KRAK! BAX! FAP! DAP! FOK! SWAG! GAH! I’m not kidding about any of those, especially not “hamd”. But, eventually, Huntress makes short work of every asshole prowling around the discarded Batman. Meanwhile, Oracle has turned on the Batmobile’s autopilot and the thing literally drives itself to the scene to pick every up. Going against actual logical medical practices, Huntress hoists the broken and possibly dying Batman by his ears and throws him in the car like this: *fling*

The car peels out by itself and drives Backseat Batman back to his cozy mansion while Huntress is left in the lurch! “I’m sure when he can… he’ll want to thank you himself,” Oracle tells Huntress as the Batmobile drives off the nearest, highest cliff.

Later, Poison Ivy has a briefcase full of cash that she’s taking to her… ahem… business partner. It’s his/her half of the bounty that Catwoman stole. She’s just about to tell the unknown person that Batman might be a problem, but the lights come on and Poison Ivy stands there alone. All poisonous and ivy-like.

Bruce Wayne knows that he’s back in the Batcave. How he got there, he has no idea. But he can hear Alfred chastising him as he bandages up his completely banged-up body. Even Alfred, a man of jeniusness, cannot patch Bruce up with the skills he knows. First of all, Bruce has a fractured skull. Second of all, Bruce pooped his dumb pants and Alfred doesn’t get paid enough to handle that one. Oracle has contacted Dr. Kinsolving, who may be able to fish Batman’s broken back.

Bruce’s hand starts a-twitchin’. At first it seems involuntary, but locked-in Bruce Wayne is hella trying to communicate with Morse code. Alfred understands right away: Bruce taps out “Thomas Elliot”, to which Alfred literally says “Good show, sir.” I guess this will be a big breakthrough in curing Bruce’s haggard condition!

The papers the next morning display the big, fat headline “PLAYBOY WAYNE IN NEAR-FATAL WRECK”. Oracle had “Wet” Dick Grayson crash the Porsche, making it look like Bruce had a blood alcohol level of 1.4. The talking heads are all over this shit, speculating on Bruce’s condition and whether or not THOMAS ELLIOT, FAMED SURGEON will fly in from Ghana or Papua New Guinea to operate on the man.

“In a fog of anesthesia, I remember one particular Halloween,” Bruce ruminates silently. “My father had promised to take me trick-or-treating and, as usual, was held up in the hospital.” Surgeons wonder where Dr. Thomas Elliot is while they fail completely at operating on the man. “My mother, always well-meaning, suggested I call a classmate and go out with one of them instead. Angry, I told her I had no friends at school.”

Dr. Thomas Elliot makes a grand entrance by inappropriately busting open the operating room door. “Why does everyone look so serious? This is just brain surgery, folks. I’ll have us back out on the golf course before lunch.” This is sort of the levity that gets people killed, sir.

Right. No piece of ass is that high of a price.

Bruce had lied to his mother about not having any friends. “There was always Tommy Elliot.”

There’s an artsy flashback of Bruce and Tommy playing a game that either looks like Risk or that other game with the motherfuckin’ — Stratego, that’s it. They’re all like “I’ve got you cornered” and “You’re dead” and “You haven’t killed me yet” and “I’m six moves ahead” and “I’ve got my general guarded” and “Let’s try kissing each other’s penises”. The Waynes watch their son and his friend play civilly. “It’s like they’re brothers,” says Martha, even though Thomas Wayne points out that brothers argue all the time. “Barring some sort of unforeseen disaster, I think our son has finally found a best friend.”

I love when people say “barring some unforeseen [noun]” because it always ends up happening! And in this case, I think Bruce Wayne’s going to die on the operating table of AIDS.

Or not. The operation was a boring success.

“I barely survived the fall,” Bruce thinks as an unknown enemy reads the next day’s paper. “WAYNE OUT OF DANGER” the headline blares. “Had it not been for Tommy. Had it not been for Huntress. Had it not been for Oracle. Had it not been – that someone cut the Batrope.

The unknown enemy slices Bruce’s picture out of the paper with a very sharp knife. “We make war… that we may live in peace,” he mutters insanely.

Final Thoughts

Things are getting good! And by that, I mean I’m still unimpressed! One of the best stories ever? Pah! I’ve seen better stories on Stargate SG-1, and that’s saying a lot!