Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #656 – “Besieged”! In the previous installment of the Prelude to Knightfall story, Ulysses Hadrian “Poopypants” Armstrong has amassed his army of street toughs, corner boys, and dope fiends and is now advancing upon the 43rd precinct building. Here, they will most assuredly shake hands with all the cops and tell them what a good job they’re all doing keeping Gotham City safe from ruffians like—HEY, WAIT A MINUTE!

Batman has to stop Armstrong’s army before they drop napalm on Commissioner Gordon’s face, or whatever. I don’t care.

Detective Comics (Vol. 1), Issue #656 [February, 1993]
Written by: Chuck Dixon
“Besieged”

Striking the 43rd precinct serves two purposes, per Armstrong. 1) It removes the police as a threat. 2) It opens their property room full of guns, drugs, cash, cake and ice cream.

The first thing they do is take out the phones. Then they take out the lights. Then they blow a shell through the fucking roof.

“NO PRISONERS! NO PRISONERS!” Armstrong yells as they all move in for the kill. They blast the building with shells and rockets, blowing holes in the walls and windows. Armstrong already celebrates victory! He cracks open a cold Miller Lite and lounges back in an easy chair he found in the dumpster.

Some flat top motherfucking pig-ass cop is prepared for the invasion. The building was built after the Civil War, son! It can handle anything and everything! “…at least ‘til help gets here,” he says, lighting a cigarette. Of course, since the phones are down, no one can call out for help. No matter, someone going to hear those goddamn rocket launchers going off. Only a matter of time before someone helps, right? Guys…?

Armstrong’s rooftop men see the Batmobile barrel down the street at 400mph. Not this fuckin’ guy, I swear to god. “Throw everything you have against him!” one guy screams as they pelt the car with bullets and bombs and water from their squirt guns. “Everything ain’t gonna be enough!” they yell because the Batmobile is made out of dark matter that Nibbler from Futurama shits out.

The cops watch as a couple of guys roll a drum toward the building. “That looks like some kinda bomb,” says one. It explodes, killing tens of hundreds of thousands of tens of millions of cops. “All right! Everyone down to the holding cells! We make our stand there!” says Flat Top Cop.

Then, my friend, you’ve never played a game of Parcheesi!

Armstrong is cumming with delight over the carnage and, frankly, rude illegal things he’s doing. His schlong is nice and turgid… until Batman shows up to ruin the boner. The army starts trying to torch the car, but (miraculously) Batman is up on one of the building roofs. With a remote control, he sends the car speeding off back in the direction it came. “Whoa! Ha! I told you he wasn’t a serious threat!” yells Armstrong. “Just a masked lunatic.”

This is one masked lunatic you don’t want to trifle with, kiddo. He’s dangerous! He plays that game with the knife where he spreads his fingers out and pokes the table between them. That’s some serious badassery!

Anyway, the cops go to the holding cells where the drunks and degenerates are hanging out swilling liquids from jugs with “XXX” marked on them. The cops talk amongst themselves about the assailants’ agenda, and it’s probably the impound room that they’re after. “It’s like a narcotics and firearms supermarket in there and more cash than they’d get in a dozen bank jobs. All they gotta do is kill all of us.”

Sounds like a plan to me! You know what they say: the only good cop is a dead cop! Ha ha ha! Just kidding! Or am I? BLUE LIVES MATTER! lol

Armstrong blasts his way into the impound room and has his way with it against its consent. Then Batman drops down in front of them with a dramatic billow of his cape and starts kicking some gangster army ass. Armstrong poops his pants and orders his men to focus on the masked guy. “He’s only one man!” he screams. Yeah, one hunk o’ man.

Or just get your ass kicked around the room. That works too, I guess.

Batman tells the army to run while there’s still time, and most of them do. Armstrong, however, is Headstrong. “You don’t scare me!” he yells, blasting Batman with his gun. “I won’t let you scare me!”

Armstrong is bloody scared, son.

“You’re just a bully! You can’t frighten me!” he continues, pooping his already poop-filled pants. “I’m a general now! I have an army!”

Batman calls the kid a “scared little boy”, which causes Armstrong to make a “buhhhhhh” face. Then he literally runs away screaming “MOMMY!” in bold red letters as Batman advances on him. Armstrong cries and begs Batman not to hurt him, and of course Batman wouldn’t hurt a child! Even if that child was 8-year-old Hitler with an adorable toothbrush mustache. This allows Armstrong the opportunity to shiv Batman in his side. He laughs with delight as he runs away.

Batman pretty much punches his own face as punishment for letting the kid get away.

Hell yeah, man! More cops! Let’s step on some black guys’ necks! BLUE LIVES MATTER!!!

Downstairs among the holding cells, the cops and drunks notice the gunshots have stopped and have been replaced with the sweet, sweet sound of sirens coming to save everyone after they get donuts. The crew runs up the stairs and, much to their collective chagrin, spot the shadow of Batman looming around a corner…

Armstrong has lost the battle as he watches his entire army, all 4,000 of them, get arrested by Harvey Bullock. But he’s confident that he will win the war. There will be other days, other battles, and other chances to hack Batman with a rusty machete! “I hate him for his meddling. I hate myself for underestimating him.”

Batman must have heard the little geek’s thoughts, because he turns around and starts chasing the kid. He scoops Armstrong up by the scruff and wags his finger at him for being so gosh-damned murderous and naughty! “You’ll be tried as an adult. You won’t see the light of day until you’re eighteenth birthday. And I’ll still be here. And next time we meet you’ll be an adult. Remember that.”

Sounds sexy! Meanwhile, Bullock is grilling members of the pisspants army to find out who the ringleader is. They point to the kid, who is hanging upside-down by his legs from a lamppost. And that’s the end of that chapter! *dusts off hands, grabs a hamburger*

April Fool’s! Your son is actually dead!

Armstrong’s mother gets a call from the police that Armstrong is being a Bad Boy.

“Dad, could Ulysses go to the electric chair?” asks the young Armstrong daughter. And dear ol’ Dad, he puts his hand on her shoulder. “We can always hope,” he says.

Bruce Wayne is done for the day! Alfred sets his breakfast by the bed and snarls at the millionaire playboy who is asleep on a fancy chair and still in his Batman costume.

*laugh track*

Final Thoughts

What a hoot! I have no final thoughts! Things were wrapped nicely and I feel duly satisfied! Great story! A+! Would read again! Wakka wakka! See you in the funny pages!