Just Another Night

I had just about emptied the safe when Bruce Wayne himself stepped into the room. He closed the door, looked at me and frowned.

"Hey, are you (hick) stealing from me?"

He was drunk! This would be an easy get-away.

"No," I purred "you ruined the surprise. I'm part of the entertainment."

He looked me over. "Oh!"

"Wanna sneak peek?"

"Sure."

"How's about you get on all fours and bark like a dog?"

He fell on the floor and actually said 'woof, woof.' Pathetic. He probably played this game with every bimbo he was rumored to be with.

"Ok, good boy. Now sit up and beg."

He did and I grabbed his throat with my right hand (claws in) and put my left inches from his face (claws out).

"There is one thing I hate more than dogs" I hissed. "Weak willed men."

I shoved him to the side and went back to my bag of spoils. Then THAT VOICE stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Weak willed, huh?"

I spun around, ready to fight. I looked at every shadow waiting for his to eclipse Mr. Wayne. Instead I saw Bruce, very soberly, getting to his feet. My shock almost overtook my anger. Bruce "Fop" Wayne was Batman?!?!

"I should claw your eyes out for that last stunt you pulled; kissing me to handcuff me to the fence for the cops!"

He smiled. The same one he used that night.

"I'm not going to try and take you in. I just want to talk."

I snapped my whip. I had to get out of there. I jumped to the window, looked at the spoils, looked at the Bat. I looked long enough to give him the message: I'll think about it, stud.