Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight (Vol. 1), Issue #12 – “Prey (Part 2): Dark Sides”! In the previous installment, the Mayor of Gotham City has assigned Captain Jim Gordon to head a Vigilante Task Force in order to stop people like Batman from stealing the thunder from really shitty cops like… well, everyone but Gordon. This doesn’t go well when one of Gordon’s men, Sgt. Cort, decides to go rogue with his own team to raid a dealer’s warehouse. A few of Cort’s men are corrupt enough to warn Fish, the ringleader. Batman also decides to raid the warehouse at the same time. It’s a real mess.

Meanwhile, Dr. Hugo Strange, a psychologist also assigned to the Vigilante Task Force, prances around in a Batsuit to try and get into Batman’s head. And he gets into his head, all right. He’s gonna go do Batman things and get himself torpedoed right in the face.

Catwoman’s also around for some reason. That doesn’t seem to matter much right now.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight (Vol. 1), Issue #12 [November, 1990]
Written by: Doug Moench
“Prey (Part 2): Dark Sides”

Yuck, what the hell is this cover? It’s like Paul Gulacy had to figure out just how far away from this hairy bald man’s junk that Batman had to be AND had to make sure that Batman’s pointy, pointy cowl wasn’t anywhere near it! Ouch, man.

OK, enough of that horrible poppycock. Bruce Wayne recounts to us, the loyal reader, of his unsuccessful evening. The Batmobile broke its wheel and the Fish got away. He’s made an enemy out of the jacked Sgt. Cort. He couldn’t even hang glide his way back to his McMansion! Ugh, and he loves hang gliding! That’s the real tragedy here, that he had to walk all the way home. Couldn’t even take a cab, this guy. He’s too good for that.

That weirdo Dr. Strange continues to prance around in his own makeshift Batsuit. “Yes! The dark thrill conferred by the costume – the freedom and power of frightening anonymity – almost omnipotence!” He keeps talking about omnipotence without actually using the word “god”, which he most certainly wants to say. This puny twink thinks he’s a god, even as he stands at the edge of a very tall building and almost topples right over it.

Sweating, he gets that wave of reality right on top of his head. “I can know how it feels to be the Bat-Man psychologically… but not… not physically.

How DARE you have a head in my presence!

“And you–!” he hollers at his fuck-mannequin. “What are you looking at?! You think it’s funny–?! You enjoy seeing me humiliated?!”

After punching some sense into his beloved hunk of plastic, he grips his pained wrist tenderly and wonders how Batman feels when he punches his foes. Does he get a thrill? Do his genitals moisten up with anticipation? Does he go home and celebrate with a can of Clamato? Oh, how enigmatic this Bat Fella is!

Batman finally arrives at his less-than-humble abode. Faithful Alfred is waiting to tend to his every, and I do mean every, need. “I can’t go on like this, Alfred,” Bruce sits with consternation. “Not against the criminals and the police. I’ve got to find a way to make playing this game less draining.”

If I were Alfred, I would suggest NOT DOING IT ANYMORE. But Alfred will always hold his tongue about that lest he gets the firm taste of the back of Bruce’s hand!

“Then aside from the absence of mortal wounds… was it a bad night?” Alfred asks.

“A disaster.”

“Then I shall refrain from saying I told you so, sir, and instead present the day’s mail.”

Bruce doesn’t want to indulge in the litany of junk mail and free AOL 3.0 discs, but Alfred informs him that an invitation to the Mayor’s dinner party is within the pile of pre-approved credit cards and campaign ads to vote for Richard “Dunky” McFadden for council chairperson. Bruce grudgingly accepts the invitation as long as there is shrimp with that really good cocktail sauce that burns holes in your sinuses.

Very good, sir. Other dinner guests will include Dr. “Strange” Strange and Ronald McDonald (as long as he doesn’t cancel).

He plans on calling David Muir over and over again with reports that the Batman is “living too high on the hog”.

Dr. Strange is the toast of the town! A group of well-dressed socialites, businessmen, and Mayor himself, bored out of their skulls, are listening to Strange prattle on and on about Batman. Mayor Klass takes an opportunity to speak with a hungover Bruce Wayne about how close he’s getting to his fair daughter! Look but don’t touch, now!

“Mr. Wayne – how do you feel about this vigilante running amok through the Gotham night?” Mayor Klass asks, which takes Bruce aback. All dropping his monocle in his wine glass. My opinion of Batman?? Oh stop it, now. “Well, I’m afraid I find the subject alien, Mr. Mayor, inasmuch as I devote the night to other pursuits…” Then he deflects to resident expert Dr. “Unsettlingly” Strange, who starts talking about how much the night gives Batman a boner and how strong and invincible he must feel putting on that skimpy suit and jumping around town.

“The difference is… he derives pleasure from violence rather than love,” Strange posits.

“Assuming you’re right, Dr. Strange…” Bruce replies, “and I do wonder how you could know… the man sounds rather… twisted.”

The Mayor’s daughter, Catherine, chimes in with the most deadly serious of faces. “Because he dares to do something about the crime eating Gotham alive–? Because he doesn’t spend his nights carousing or attending elegant dinner parties?”

Now it’s the Mayor’s turn to drop his monocle in his wine glass! How dare she speak this way about elegant dinner parties! My stars!

“Maybe this Bat-Man is an outlaw – technically – but he’s certainly more of a man than anyone in this room!”

…

Heh heh.

Well, I tell you who likes this fiery lass! Dr. “Upsettingly” Strange! He would like to speak more with her about her opinions at another time, but she doesn’t wanna! Gross!

Elsewhere, Sgt. Cort and one of his men are interrogating a really shaggy, smelling looking man about spotting the Bat-Man. “You claim he’s just a normal guy in a suit – a vigilante – but he ain’t. He’s a trans-dimensional elemental humanoid type.”

This guy is certainly worth everyone’s time.

This guy seems cool. I’d love to grab a beer with him.

Next witness! Ugh, never mind. Let’s take a break. We need to show you something we found, Sgt. Cort: *points to a gigantic hang glider* It was on a rooftop near the warehouse! You remember the warehouse, right? The warehouse!

Oh fuck me sideways, that’s excellent! Get that thing over to the lab to check for DNA or bat teeth marks or something! “I wanna know what it’s made of – where the materials were bought – how much they cost – everything!” This surely is a break in the case! Maybe learning that Bruce Wayne went to Michaels last Thursday will put all the pieces together.

Looking down from the catwalk, Captain Jim Gordon thinks that maybe Cort wasn’t a good choice. He calls him “hyper”, and his hatred of Batman is visceral. “It’s becoming a crusade for him, and fanatics are dangerous.” That, and collaborating with Dr. “Getting Increasingly More” Strange will add a brain to his dumbshit energy.

A quick detour to Catwoman reveals her reading the front page of a newspaper implying that she and Batman are partners in crime. She shreds the newspaper while her 45 cats hiss and growl. “Never.”

Bruce watches the news, aka the media weapon, which reports everything that we’ve already heard ad nauseam from Dr. “I Love How” Strange “I Am”. And although Bruce is onto Strange’s tricks, he still finds it difficult to let this stuff get under his skin. Nevertheless, he makes his way through his Batcave to keep tinkering with his car.

Sgt. Cort is gearing up to take down the Fish! Ammo belts and semi-automatic rifles! “Lot of hardware for one lonely dope pusher,” Gordon comments, which is met with scorn. “Let’s just say we want to be ready for anything, Captain…”

Cort wants to be ready if Batman shows up again, which I personally think is rather reasonable. After all, the guy keeps toothpicks and paper clips in his utility belt. You can never be too careful.

“No shooting,” Gordon warns. Cort looks upset that there is to be no shooting.

Don’t think I’m kidding. This seat is very hot! I think someone left a bowl of soup in my chair again.

The tactical team clears out. “Don’t worry, Gordon,” speaks a gruff figure in the shadows. “They won’t run into me or the Fish.”

Wha! Buh! Guh! Fuh! “If I’d been left alone, Manny the Fish would be in your jail right now,” The Bat Man Man Man says rather arrogantly.

“Or you might be dead – instead of keeping round-the-clock surveillance on Cardona’s house.”

“No surveillance. I planted a recorder inside. The tape’s blank – not so much as a jiggle of the doorknob.” So Fish has been laying low, eh? Perhaps he had a heart attack while eating his Stouffer’s mac and cheese and banged his head on the countertop?

Gordon doesn’t look thrilled, per se. “You don’t approve,” Batman asks. Gordon barely approves, but he does betray a hint of approval. However… “My job’s on the line with this task force – and I won’t lose it.” Well, Batman ain’t letting that happen! Even if it means hiding Gordon in the Batcave until his job isn’t on the line anymore, he’ll do it. What they both need is a system. Perhaps a way for Gordon to only summon the guy on his own terms. Maybe some sort of signal. With a bat on it. We can workshop that one later.

Sgt. Cort and his ragtag team of burly men start ramming their way into the Casa de Fish, which they find empty. No Fish whatsoever. “Ask me, Cardona ain’t been here in days,” says Nameless Cop #1. Time to make lemonade out of lemons and set up camp right in the house. It’s Batman they really want, and he’ll poke his nose around Fish’s house soon enough. He can’t help himself! Just ask Dr. Strange! Something about impotence.

Speaking of impotence, Batman is tying up a man who knows something about Cardona’s whereabouts. “Ever hang from a lamppost?” the cowled one asks, striking what can only be described as intense fear in the guy’s heart. This dude has never hanged from a lamppost and he’s not about the start now!

So he tells him what he needs to know – Fish is in an apartment above Skyline Bar on Comstock – and then Batman throws him in a dumpster. Assuredly, the birds will peck his eyes out.

The guy gave good information. Fish is indeed in an apartment living it up with a gross lady in a gross tub. Both looking awful, not worthy of illustration whatsoever. Fish hears a noise and, like Annie, gets his gun.

THTCH. A batarang knocks the gun out of his hand. Fish ducks under the bar as another batatrang crashes into the mirror with a PEECH. lol. Fish grabs his gun and starts shooting wildly. BAOUM BAOUM BAOUM CHVEW. Who commissioned these sound effects? My anger is palpable.

Aha, they found each other.

The hairy bald man at last!

So they BLASH and SWAKT and RUUAHHH and KRATCH and TUD and SKFF and CHUD! and SPLAMM and KRAKT and SHUMP and TRRMP and WHOK and KUNCH! and FRAKT and SWOKT and WHUMP and K-K-KKKRUMP! and I didn’t make a single one of those up! Except for “TRRMP”, but you didn’t even notice.

Needless to say, Fish has been rendered unconscious and what’s done is done. Batman tells the woman in the tub that Fish needs his pants.

Elsewhere, concurrently, Catwoman has stolen more stuff and digs her claws into a sleeping woman’s back. “Tell them the Catwoman is nobody’s partner.”

The next morning, Cort and his men celebrate a job poorly done! “Either the Vigilante knew the Fish wouldn’t be there – or he knew we would be,” Cort growls, taking a drag on his sad little cigarette. MAYBE FISH WAS ALREADY DEAD! Dumped in a river, how about that, Cort?

“I’m beginnin’ to think the Vigilante was tipped off…”

Catwoman checks the day’s newspaper. “BAT-MAN IN TAVERN ROBBERY?” No Catwoman news, but at least there’s no implication that they work together. Good enough for now.

Cort’s Team of Whipper-Snappers returns to Police Headquarters where they find an extremely bruised and bloody Fish tied up and hanging from a gargoyle bust. “A peace offering,” says the raspy bat atop the roof. “We’re on the same side.”

“You’re under arrest, dammit!” Cort screams, pointing his gun, missing the parts about the peace offering and being on the same side. At least Fish got his pants! “No, Max!” Nameless Cop #2 shouts. Gordon said no shooting! Don’t, Max!”

BRAM BRAM BRAM SPAK CHOOM BRAM BRAM BRAM SPANG BROKT. All good noises.

One bullet snaps through Fish’s rope and he drops like a stone to the steps. Batman has escaped the Wrath of Bullets, but Cort instructs everyone to get up to the roof anyway.

Limp like a dead fish, you might say.

Dr. Strange is busy trying to call up the Mayor’s office. He needs the police records he requested post-haste! He’s this close *spreads fingers apart to the length of his penis* to a solution, but he needs more pieces of the puzzle. “I was assured full access, and I demand nothing less.”

Meanwhile, Gordon has a few guys installing a signal on the roof. Later, Gordon himself unfolds a piece of fabric shaped like a bat and places it on the giant bulb. “It works–” he says as the signal lights up the night sky, “but I can’t risk leaving it on longer than 30 seconds or so… I just hope to heaven he saw it.”

Guess who else saw it? Max Cort and his Merry Gang of Blowjobs, who are all staking out to get a view of the Police HQ roof. From their angle, they can’t see the shape in the signal. “Why’d he shine it up into the sky? What’s he trying to–”

Oh snap, son. Batman himself arrives on the rooftop to meet Gordon. “The Vigilante!” Cort shouts.

“As far as you’re concerned,” Gordon tells the Masked Bat, taking the briefest of respites from his pipe, “I made a bad mistake in drafting Max Cort for the Task Force…”

Pffft, who cares. Batman eats guys like Max Cort for breakfast. So what if the peace offering didn’t work? Big ol’ whoop. Batman forgot to eat his Wheaties and he’s hungry for breakfast! Time for breakfast! Batman eats guys like–

“A cop with his pride… were you trying to taunt him?” Gordon asks pointedly.

“I was being what I am.”

“What you are is the prime target for Max Cort. And don’t make the mistake of selling him short, as I did. He’s dangerous – maybe verging on psychotic…”

Do you really want to be bested by the guy fucking a mannequin??

Gordon spills all he knows about what Cort’s been doing and why and how come and FROM WHENCE his ambitions have come! And the vendetta, it is oh-so vendetta-y. And he’s suspicious that Batman is being tipped off. And it’s no longer suspicious, per se, because Cort is looking through the binoculars and seeing Batman being tipped off right before his beady eyes.

Jim Gordon has no advice to offer Batman other than “don’t fuck this up”. Batman leaves, fixated even further on Dr. Strange, repeatedly saying that he hasn’t gotten under his skin at all! Gordon worries that the night is going to get even worse than it already has, but he leaves his office all the same.

Sgt. Cort breaks into Gordon’s office and starts snooping around, eventually finding Dr. Strange’s requests for police records AND the police records that still haven’t been given to him.

“He’s turning the public against me… Even Gordon is now questioning my motives and methods. And if I lose Gordon… it may all be over.”

LOTS OF TENSION HERE, FOLKS! Whew, I have the vapors! Sgt. Cort finds the bat-shaped fabric in his office, and this is the final straw that broke the bat’s back!

Do we really have to go back to Dr. Strange? I hate that guy, he’s giving me the heebie-jeebies and I hate his stupid face. “A considerable improvement, my dear, and certainly better than losing your head again, eh?” The lingerie model has now donned a Batman cowl. Heebie-jeebies.

The doorbell rings and Strange springs into action! He grabs his girlfriend and shoves her into a closet. “Coming, coming!”

Who is this tall drink of water at the door? “I’m Sgt. Max Cort, second in command of the Vigilante Task Force.” They exchange pleasantries, Cort asks why Strange is being weird like he’s talking to a fuckdoll, then he offers the documents in person that he requested. “Those reports have been held back – suppressed – by Captain James Gordon… head of the Task Force.” Well don’t that beat all! What a jerkface!

So Cort and Dr. Strange are going to team up to bring Gordon down, nail the Vigilante, and go home to a hearty steak and eggs dinner! Time to strike a deal: “Tell me…” Strange looks rather sly. “Are you as strong and athletic as you look?”

Final Thoughts

This isn’t looking good for the Thee Bat-Man OR Jim-Jam Gordon! How are they going to get out of this pickle!

That reminds me. I better get home to my mannequin.