“Right, Batman. Baterangs.”

“Check.”

“Batropes.”

“Check.”

“Tickets for The White Stripes and Mudvayne.”

“Che… Hey, wait a minute, concert tickets aren’t on the list.”

“They should be.”

“Not this again.”

“Well, why not? We spend all our time fighting crime, yet we never go out to a show.”

“I already told you, crime never sleeps. We have a sacred trust with the citizens of Gotham to protect and to serve.”

“But, what about me, Batman? For crying out loud, I’m a teenager. I should be seeing shows like Black Eyed Peas, 3 Doors Down and Eminem, not chasing down every idiotic criminal that comes to town.”

“The Joker is not an “idiotic criminal.” He’s a very deadly adversary.”

“He looks like Michael Jackson on a bad day. And what about that time I had a hot date for Green Day? Remember? I had to stand her up because that idiot who talks in riddles came to town.”

“It comes with the job.”

“Hah! Some job. If it’s not The Riddler keeping me from shows like Queens Of The Stone Age or Static-X, it’s that guy who walks like a duck or that old lady with a zillion cats.”

“I don’t know why you’re bellyaching. It’s not every job that gives you a great car to ride in and a cool uniform to wear.”

“Yeah, right. I must be the only guy at school who has to wear tights to work. Thank God for this mask. If they knew who I really was, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Look, I’m the one who pays the bills around here. I’m the one who puts food on the table and pays for your Maroon 5 CDs. I’m your legal guardian and if you’re going to live in my house -“

“I have to live by your rules. I know, but sometimes I just wish I had a life outside school and work.”

“Let’s compromise. You do a good job tonight, and tomorrow I’ll buy you those Pearl Jam tickets you’ve been talking about.”

“Really?”

“Sure. And Coldplay and the Dave Matthews Band are coming next month. The promoter’s a friend of mine. In fact he owes me a few favors. What do you say?”

“Well, since you put it that way.”

“Good. Now, let’s go through that check list.”

“Right, Batman. Baterangs.”

“Check.”

“Batropes.”

“Check.”

“Atomic batteries to power.”

“Che… Oh, oh.”

“What’s wrong, Batman?”

“Alfred’s chili. It’s not quite agreeing with me.”

“You mean….”

“That’s right, I have to go to the batroom.”