Tuesday, July 27, 2004

44. The Tempest

Conditions are clear indeed--the plan is proceeding even more smoothly than I'd forecast. Batman arrived as planned, and headed straight for the position I steered him toward even without my prompting. That big lunkhead has a dark cloud hanging over him indeed--a cloud of stupidity.

Though he acted cool, I'm sure his mercury rose when he first laid eyes on me. Me, resplendent in my silver suit, which clings to my body like dew on the grass... Face it, I am magnificient--as intense as sunshine against a bright blue sky--and all who gaze upon me are humbled. (Starting with that fuckwad Shore at GOC.)

Batman assumed a fighting stance--again, exactly as I'd planned--so I produced my Lightning Rod and pointed it straight at him. The jolt of electricity that flew three feet from its staff had him on the floor in seconds flat, jerking and twitching like an animal in the throes of death.

But the Rod was not intended to kill him, merely to stun him, stop him in his tracks. Since this was our first meeting face-to-face, I wanted to demonstrate the power at my disposal. I approached his contorted body until the rod was a mere six inches away from him and gave him a second dose. His shrieks of agony were delightful. I wanted to draw out the torture again and again and again until I heard him beg for mercy, but I stuck to the plan. There will be time. There will be time indeed.

I pressed the rod to his forearm (had I brought it to his chest I could have ended his torment once and for all) and watched him as he lay there helpless before me. The look in his eyes told me that he knew something awful was in store, and there was absolutely NOTHING he could do about it.