Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Detective Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3 – “Cold Blood”! In the previous installment, Bruce Wayne is screwing a reporter fornication-style. Jim Gordon is assigned to the Joker case/breakout debacle over at Arkham Asylum. Since some guy called the Dollmaker cut off the Joker’s face; they’re on the lookout for a man without a face. That should be easy enough. They just have to find the guy with no face.

But it’s not so easy. Both Batman and Gordon get tricked into investigating an old industrial building looking for a kidnapped little girl. Batman gets beat up pretty bad! Gordon gets all mutilated in the hands of the Dollmaker. AND, the Dollmaker considers Batman a rare collectible.

So it’s all very dumb so far! I’m excited for more!

Detective Comics (Vol. 2), Issue #3 [January, 2012]
Written by: Tony S. Daniel
“Cold Blood”

Man, I’m even sleepier than I was when I was writing up the last issue! This will assuredly not go well. Issue #3 begins with Batman’s in-depth up close and personal analysis of the body before him. It may look like Gordon, but it’s just three other bodies pieced together and molded, mashed, forged, and battered to look like Gordon! So, whew, three people died instead of one. I feel better already.

Since Batman was drugged with a needle full of Drug Juice, he figures he’s gonna die soon anyway. “What the hell are you waiting for? Bring it on,” he goads through his Bat Grimace.

The Dollmaker looks like Buckethead with dreadlocks. He doesn’t want to risk marring the perfect quality of the specimen before him, lest it decreases in value. Oh my, no no no. He does insist that the body on the floor is Commissioner Gordon, but Batman will not accept these lies! First of all, this corpse’s eyes are brown, not the beautiful cascading blue seas of the real Jim Gordon’s eyes with which one can get lost in for days or weeks at a time! Second of all, this mustache here does not tickle the right way for it is a synthetic recreation! Try again, fool!

Certainly though, while Gordon may not be dead, he is held captive. “I can have you join him, in fact!” squeals the Dollmaker. But first, one of the Dollmaker’s lackeys will separate Batman’s spinal column. Can’t leave the house otherwise, you know, not very polite.

Not today! Batman lifts his right arm with incredible gumption and shoots out bullets from his glove knuckles somehow. Not much time left before he slumps on the floor like an old pile of ravioli. Gotta get moving…

All kinds of crazy evil toy shenanigans befall the caped crusader. A screeching cymbal monkey clangs near Batman’s ears! Some Jack-in-the-Box jester tries to strangle his neck. The Dollmaker tells the Jack-in-the-Box that he has done good work! This is incredibly inane. It’s like all that circus shit from Nightwing.

*shatters the fine china* THIS IS WHAT I HAVE TO DO *rips up Action Comics #1* TO KEEP THE VALUE!

“Hold him while I crush his windpipe!” shrieks Dollmaker Jones. He and his cronies keep manhandling the merchandise while the Dollmaker hollers that Batman has left him no choice. Gotta spend money to make money, I suppose. This is why the Dollmaker is incredibly successful and I’m some dipshit running a blog about cartoons and music! Batman concedes the fight after realizing that he will likely truly get pretty screwed if he sticks around much longer, so he leaps through the window (Jack-in-the-Box still in tow) and lands in a dumpster. “Let’s go sunshine,” he tells the limp Jack as he drags him down the street by the scruff.

If that fake mustachioed Frankenstein of a corpse isn’t the real Jim Gordon, then where the hell is he? Well, Scrappy, I have your answer! The abandoned Gotham Mercy Hospital, where I hope to see a bunch of abandoned nuns caring for the abandoned Gordon.

Gordon wakes up from his bout of pleasant unconsciousness with side-splitting pain. And by that I mean a literal pain in his side because it was split open! It’s stitched up now, whew, but it looks like somebody took an organ while he was out cold. He’s not happy about this! Wait, let me look harder…nope, not happy. It was hard to tell at first! His face is always so…you know.

“Mr. Gordon, you’ll die soon. Let me help you.” Says a voice, rather alarmingly. It’s Olivia Carr, the kidnapped 11-year-old, and she’s outside his makeshift barred prison cell in the center of a large basement. “I’m a prisoner, too. But the Dollmaker wants me to be part of his family. He wants to adopt me,” she tells him. And Gordon’s like “look kid, I just woke up with a missing spleen or something, I don’t have time to take in new information right now. Get me some fucking water or something. Or at least shut up until I know which way is up. Jesus Christ, kid.”

Actually, he’s concerned! That’s because Gordon’s a good guy unless he’s boning women half his age in an extramarital fashion. Other than that, though, heh. Olivia confirms that the Dollmaker hasn’t hurt her, but she’s scared as hell. PLUS, this whole operation goes higher than the Dollmaker anyway. He’s just a victim of some larger Big Bad. “Only Batman can save you here. If they see the police, they’ll kill you. I heard them say.”

Haha, great. Even if they so much NOTICE a cop walking around. Even if they see a 400-lb cop eating Dunkin’ Donuts through the window, Gordon’s dead. Not looking good, is it?

The sound of creaking puts a damper on this budding friendship. “Hurry! Tell me where I can find Batman. It’s our only chance!” Olivia sputters, but fat chance of that. Gordon’s in a cage, remember? Batman could be anywhere, THAT’S why we installed a Bat-Signal you little dunce. “But maybe you can get a message to him,” Gordon says, losing what little hope he had. 11-year-olds can’t help for shit.

At the creepy-ass Gotham steel mill, Batman tortures Jack-without-his-Box to try to get some answers. Just bashing him around the room. This dude’s bones are bendable, that’s strange. Can’t even break a few fingers. Jack goes “HARGH-HAR-HARGH HARGH HARGH HARGHHHH” while Batman fists his face repeatedly, lol. His ripped shirt reveals many surgery scars. “WHAT HAS YOUR BOSS DONE TO YOU?” Batman snarls, ready to fight for workers’ safety practices. Here’s his answer: “HERH-HERH-HERGHHHH”. Great. Thanks.

Can’t fault Jack too hard. His tongue is missing. “Why didn’t you say so?” Batman says as he boots him in the chin. “Finally something to work with now.” And he takes his leave, obviously going to find where his nemesis is currently keeping his pile of tongues.

Sgt. Bullock, is it true you’ve installed cameras in the women’s bathroom toilets? Sir, please confirm, are you the Toilet Bandit??

Sgt. Harvey “Artie Lange When He Was Scraping Bottom” Bullock will not confirm anyone’s death right now, especially not Gordon’s, so shove it. “Excuse me, Harv…just one question for a real TV journal,” pipes in Charlotte Rivers, who is still covered in all of Bruce Wayne’s cat hair. “Is the body your officers found tonight that of James Gordon or not? And if not, do you know his whereabouts?” Look lady, arrrrgghhhh. Listen, … no comment.

Rivers reminds him that he’s being broadcast across the whole city, and the city is looking for leadership, so start leading. “Do you have anything to say that might quell people’s fears?” And Bullock’s like “of course I do…at the GCPD press conference…” and then crunches her microphone with his hand while a hooded figure sneaks his way into the police station.

Next up, Wayne Manor! *trumpets* Here, Bruce is riffling through the case files of Wesley Mathis, this guy who was mutilating and eating his victims, the guy Gordon said he was working on busting 10 years ago. Bruce considers this his biggest lead so far, but he can only do so much with it. What he really needs is to find Gordon. But where the hell could he be? Busch Gardens? Assuming he’s alive. He was never told that he wasn’t actually dead. Six Flags?

He sits at his chair in front of his giant CIA computer piecing together body parts, trying to get into the Dollmaker’s head. “Uniqueness stripped away and made into another sum of parts…” he thinks as he describes the act of rearranging doll parts. “Parts with which he created…” then he smiles, “…or fathered.”

I agree wholeheartedly, Bruce. Male pattern baldness is a bitch.

Alfred strolls in, already familiar with Wesley Mathis. Jim Gordon shot and killed him! My sides are still splitting thinking about that! But no, Bruce isn’t talking about Wesley, oh no, Alfie my boy. We’re talking about his son, Barton Mathis. Perhaps that first name is really why he never stood a chance!

Bruce remembers the whole Mathis case as a teenager, gave him the heebie-jeebies. Barton told the police that his father made him go on “hunting trips” where his dad shot people right in front of them. Kinda hits home I guess for “WAAHHHH MUH PARENTS” Bruce Wayne, huh? He uses his computer to age up a young Barton Mathis and compare his facial features to that of the Dollmaker’s, but it’s impossible to tell with that ugly fucked up mug.

Anyway, what brings you here in the first place Alfred? Did Aston Villa win another match? Are we out of scones? *snicker* …Oh, the Bat-Signal is on? Heh. Sorry.

Back in Jim Gordon’s Hospital Cage, he overhears a conversation between Dr. Dollmaker and Nurse Wretched. It seems that the Dollmaker cannot work on the “doll process” until the victim, hereby known as the “doll process recipient”, hereby known now as the “victim” again since that’s shorter, hereby known now as “Jim Gordon” since Jim Gordon is the victim, saves a life. Apparently this Dollmaker can’t take a life until the Gordon saves a life or something. For the balance. Also, “a very important person in dire need of a liver” matches Gordon’s blood type, so the procedure must be handled extra delicately.

Gordon screams and cries from his little prison, calling the man a dereanged lunatic. Oh yeah, would a deranged lunatic do THIS?!: *turns Jim Gordon into a doll*

Since the Dollmaker’s father died at the hands of Gordon, he considers him a ruthless killer. Who knows how many other people he’s killed? Gordon loves filling out all that paperwork every time he discharges his gun, don’t you know. That’s why he fires hails of bullets into the sky every morning to ring in the new day.

“Such a pity,” the Dollmaker says, “you don’t even recognize your dead victim’s face even when you’re staring right at it.”

So let’s recap: Dollmaker’s dad was killed by Gordon? Dollmaker’s son was killed by Joker? Dollmaker also was Gordon’s victim? Are there two Dollmakers? Are all these people one in the same like some hillbilly family tree love-in situation? This is very confusing.

Well, at any rate, Batman heads to the Bat-Signal. Since Gordon was the only person who has ever used the thing before, Batman knows he must be alive. “Where is he, Olivia?” she asks the Bat-Signallin’ Girl. A normal answer to this question is “The Abandoned Gotham Mercy Hospital!”, but she answers instead “You have to help him, Batman!”. See, told ya, little kids are worthless. But, Olivia does tell him that he’s a victim of the Dollmaker and she hands Batman a note in Gordon’s handwriting, so at least she was able to relay a message before she got kidnapped yet again during the conversation.

Uhmm, ACAB, officer? I saw graffiti that said that around the corner, sir.

Batman uses his special Bat-Signal-DNA-Testing-Technology to confirm that it was indeed Olivia who turned the Bat-Signal on, and then tells Alfred to contact the police about her location. A cop shows up in an alarming fashion and says some alarming words to her that I wouldn’t fucking trust either. “It’s okay–I’m one of the good guys,” he tells her, not very convincingly. This dickhead turns on his taser and tells him that he’s just trying to earn a paycheck. Olivia proceeds to knife this bitch across the throat; he didn’t even see it coming! “Father would be disgusted by such waste.” she stares coldly.

Olivia = best character.

Gordon’s note to Batman was “MEЯCY HOSPITAL” with the backwards ‘R’ being code for…who fucking knows? Batman and Gordon have never exchanged codes before! So what a stupid thing to do. “It’s a symbol implying to watch my back,” Batman says omnisciently. What if it meant “bring cigarettes”? Why does Batman assume everything? Bring cig-Я-ettes!

But no, Batman doesn’t really know what’s going on. It all seems like some heinous setup. Rain pours buckets as Batman approaches the eerie hospital building. His sneaky attempt to climb stairs is blown immediately by cooing pigeons and creaking steps, so he pivots to Plan B. “DOLLMAKER! COME OUT!” he hollers. A nearby wall display screen shows Gordon strapped Hannibal Lecter-style. “Kick off your boots and make yourself comfortable,” a voice rings through the halls over a loudspeaker, “there’s plenty to see here!”

Don’t be so modest! You’re a natural showman!

Batman barely says boo before one of the Dollmaker’s henchmen breaks through a wall and chokes him with a large, burly, beefy, sweaty, sexy arm. He passes out in about 2.5 seconds and wakes up in a large octagon-shaped glass enclosure that looks like an operating theater. He groggily wakes up from his slumber. “There you go, on your feet, Dark Knight! People aren’t paying to watch you sleep all night!” the Dollmaker jovially declares as he makes his preparations. After all, his spectators have paid top dollar to see, in person, that Batman here is the real f’ing deal!

Entering the ring are five smelly-looking Joker-faced clowns, all brandishing weapons. Their faces appear to be sewed on.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, AND THOSE WHO ARE WATCHING VIA LIVE STREAMING VIDEO, I GIVE YOU BATMAN VERSUS THE JOKERS!”

Final Thoughts

Boo! Hiss! I thought I paid for Phish live at Lake Tahoe, July 31st, 2013! The Tahoe Tweezer!

Too much detective shit going on in these Detective Comics! I didn’t sign up for this!