Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Batman and the Monster Men, Issue #1 – “Batman and the Monster Men (Part 1)”!

I was supposed to read this miniseries before Batman and the Mad Monk, but I most certainly didn’t! So I’m doing it now. Sorry everyone, this will throw me out of whack for the next 40 years, unfortunately.

Batman and the Monster Men, Issue #1 [January, 2006]
Written by: Matt Wagner
“Batman and the Monster Men (Part 1)”

A man is reading a newspaper. His daughter doesn’t like him reading newspapers in the mornings, as it angers up his blood something foul! “Goddamn criminals!” he cries. The mysterious villain known as Red Hood has died during a heist at the chemical plant. He can sort of read about that here maybe. I don’t remember anymore!

This man, he’s mad about Batman. Vigilantes in costumes roaming the streets at night! Seedy and unseemly! “And now some petty thief gets the idea to put on a cape and a mask as well! This report says he fell into a vat of chemical waste…”

Gotham ain’t what it used to be. He rants and raves while his daughter takes it all in, even admires it. This man is the owner of Madison Industries, which specializes in spiked dildos (for her pleasure!) “What has happened to people’s sense of decency?” he asks, thinking about more dildos in the back of his mind.

This man’s daughter stands up to excuse herself, she has some law school work to do. BUT, she will be at the charity ball tonight with her boyfriend Bruce, that much is certain. I don’t know who this Bruce guy is, but I have a feeling that he feels right at home during a good ol’ charity ball!

Elsewhere, a short, bald nerd is working out on some gymnastic rings. He’s shadowed, so you may think it’s Bruce, especially since he talks about an early childhood trauma that shaped who he is today: a short, bald nerd. This guy is pretty jacked, though. I could punt him like a football, of course, but he is pretty jacked. This professor intends to attend the Gotham Science Institute’s charity ball this fine evening to schmooze some funding out of some rich asshole to continue pursuing his scientific endeavors. He mentions a couple of experiments that need to be checked on. They’re probably going to be something sinister and gross, like a death ray or a penis in a jar.

Now we focus on Batman, who is at the docks where some sort of mob gathering is taking place in a warehouse. A man is tied to a chair. A pinstripe-suited mofo blows smoke in his face. “Where the hell are those shipments from Thailand?” asks the mofo; his name is Richie. The man in the chair has a stupid blond ponytail. He looks like the kind of guy who deserves some smoke in the face, honestly. “The manifest didn’t include any coded barrels. I swear I didn’t see any…” he gibbers. Richie deems this guy’s eyes useless and has a mind to burn them out with his cigarette while Batman watches in the rafters.

Yo, Richie! Ya gotta aim for da eyeballs ya jamook! Gabagool!

This ponytailed wretch is all beat up and bloody with a burn mark now on his cheek. He pants, but is distracted by A MAN IN A TIGHT BAT SUIT DESCENDING FROM THE CEILING! Thank you for sending an angel, Jesus!

Batman beats up the bad guys and confirms that these are Salvatore Maroni’s henchmen. He starts dragging Richie by the leg into a dark corner, and he does something torturous because Richie starts screaming like a scared little fluffy baby duckling. A baby duckling who goes “ARGGHH! NOOOOO! YAAAAHH!”

“The tough guy lasts all of four minutes before he talks,” Batman thinks as he unties Ponytail. Ponytail shits himself scared – we’re talking diarrhea running down the legs, man – but Batman assures this asshole that police and medical teams are on the way. Why he says this, I don’t know. I didn’t see Batman pull out a fucking cell phone.

“Maroni’s been importing heroin disguised as pickled fish,” Batman says omnisciently. “The street value for such an amount is staggering. A sum he will use to further crush this city under his heel.” BUT IT’S TIME FOR THE BALL! Enough of this crime-bustin’, it’s time to get all gussied up and shit.

Da Bat-Man made ‘em eat their own shoes. We need t’ meet them at da hospital.

And what a lavish festivity this ball is! Tuxedos and martinis with olives! Mr. Norman “Angry at Newspapers” Madison sees Maroni approach and scoffs. Now, here’s where I fucked up by reading Batman and the Mad Monk first: I already know that Norman Madison goes nuts with paranoia over what’s going to go down here. I just don’t know the details. What a fool I am.

Norman doesn’t want to work with Maroni. “If, for appearances’ sake, you wish to put your dirty money to noble use, that’s fine. But it’s none of my concern.” Norman takes a sip of his drink while Maroni gets kind of mad. He doesn’t have too much time to start ranting before Norman’s daughter shows up looking like $1,000,000,000 and 45 cents. “In spite of the wayward turns my business might have demanded, I have never lost sight of what really matters,” Norman thinks. “I have never sacrificed my ideals for the sake of mere profit. I’d never be able to look my daughter in the eye if I had. She’s even more beautiful than her mother ever was – and I hate myself for thinking that.”

Once informed that Batman fucked everything up yet again, Maroni angrily takes his leave from the party. Miss Madison notices that Maroni doesn’t seem like Norman’s usual business associates. This one seems more mafia-y! Nothing gets by her. She even realizes that this whole ball was a shrewd plan to finally meet Buff McMuscles Bruce Wayne, who has just arrived fashionably late. All the ladies start drooling all over the place over this vapid hunk of beef, but sorry ladies! He’s spoken for! For now, of course. Things will change in two days, so keep your schedules open.

Julie Madison swoops in and scoops up Bruce while catching sneers from the women. Time to dance, Bruce. I hope you’re wearing your finest tap shoes, son. “Of all the beautiful women at his fingertips… he chose me. Me!” she thinks as they dance seductively.

Like a fucking football. I mean it.

Meanwhile, the Nutty Professor is boring the pants off of the whole room with his blah-blah-blah-ing about genetics and eugenics and excellence and genocide and intelligence and culling of the herd or something. I’m barely paying attention myself! Ah, as I suspected, it’s Hugo Strange and he may or may not still be fucking a mannequin.

A woman approaches him and points out, based on his claims of genetic engineering, that no one in the future will be… short, bowlegged, near-sighted, or bald? Sounds good! Thank you for your time. Everyone walks away, leaving Strange to pull his pud all alone in the middle of the room.

Julie introduces Bruce to Norman, who offers him a cocktail. Sorry, buddy! Not only does Bruce not drink, but he’s also going to go home right now and bone your daughter! Laters!

“Don’t you worry about her, Norman?” asks one of Madison’s esteemed guests. “I mean, Wayne’s got quite a reputation.”

“You obviously don’t know my daughter very well, Deavers. She’s no fool. If anyone can tame that playboy, it’s Julie Madison.”

Meanwhile, Strange has let himself on the roof to stew and rant. Maroni notices the bald bastard and chides him for failing to get the attention of the wealthy prospective donors. “I didn’t know they let your kind into these events, Maroni,” Strange sneers. Maroni blows out a puff of cigar smoke and offers his own charity. At first, Strange is like “fuck you I don’t want to deal with you even though I’ve dealt with you many times in the past and I’m going to do it again right now uggh fine” but then he’s like “I need $200,000.”

“Not a problem, Professor,” Maroni says as he blows smoke in Strange’s face. A lot of face smoke-blowin’ in this issue! “My pleasure, in fact.”

Strange isn’t happy at all with this exchange, but what other choice does he have? Not getting money? Fuuuuck that! “This evening was a total waste!” he complains.

The same young woman who made fun of Strange’s short, bowlegged, near-sighted, bald poopy pants points him out again in the street. Strange gets so pissed that he asks his driver to follow her and her boyfriend home. “They will be joining us later,” he says grumpily.

In Wayne Manor, Julie seduces Bruce and thanks him for being so generous with his donation to Madison Industries. “So, now… how about showing me how generous you can be?”

Bruce had to go have sex with some other broad. Sorry.

And after forty rounds of cunnilingus, Julie wakes up to find herself alone in the bed. Alfred pops in to tell her that Bruce has left on business and would be more than happy to chauffeur her back to the city. Just put some fucking clothes on first, lady. Jesus.

Bruce didn’t go anywhere, though. He’s in his Batcave checking out his Batcomputer, logging into BatAOL to do some BatGoogle searchin’. Perhaps Carmine “The Roman” Falcone is connected to this pickled fish heroin scheme. Time will tell.

The young woman who made fun of the short bald penis awakens drunkenly inside a cell next to her dead boyfriend. She screams for help and sees Hugo Strange through the tiny little window on her cell door. He’s examining her jewelry. “I wouldn’t yowl so much if I were you,” he says, not looking around. “Your friend wasn’t very large. And they’re still hungry, I’m sure.”

Hairy, shadowy hands close in on the woman. The Monster Men, probably. And that’s the end.

Final Thoughts

Who will stop these Monster Men before they kill again?! Not me, keep me out of it! This sounds like a job for Captain America. Hopefully he shows up soon.