I guess I have Mr. Bruce Wayne to thank for the fact that I'm alive and writing this.
Well, I have to thank Mr. Oliver Queen, too--and I will, as soon as I wrap up this journal entry. To show my gratitude, I plan to kiss him on the lips for, oh, about 15 minutes, then move down to his right nipple for another 10, then kiss my way slowly across his hairy chest, taking my time until I land at the left nip, linger there until he starts to moan, and then head as far south as I can before I start running into those areas that are too bandaged to risk such attention. (That's probably not a very smart plan, medically speaking, but damn, I can't keep my hands off that man.) His significant injuries are probably going to stop us from doing much more than kissing tonight, let alone for the next few days/weeks, but that's okay. I just thank god we're both still breathing.
To backtrack, it was Bruce who taught me what I needed to know in order to escape that tree trunk I was tied to--and while I'm thanking people, I should really thank that anonymous state trooper, or fire truck, or whoever it was whose siren going off way in the distance spooked our would-be murderers enough to convince them to run to their truck and get the hell out of there. I should probably even thank our hooded idiot friends for being too stupid to bring any matches for their little human bonfire, too. (You'd think at least one of them would be a smoker, but evidently they're more into the chewin' tobacco, judging from the wads of it they spat at me at various points during the ordeal.)
As for Ollie, I've got to hand it to him--he had even me convinced that he was unconscious that whole time. The minute the assholes ran off, he opened his eyes, gave me a wink, and set about cutting himself loose from the rope that held him upside down from that branch. I'm still not quite sure how he did it, but I think there was some kind of blade concealed in his boot. (At least that's how Bruce would have pulled it off. I assume all masked vigilantes travel around with trick blades hidden in their boot heels; there's probably even been a feature on it in Masked Vigilante Monthly, for all I know..)
It was kind of cool that we both managed to free ourselves even while we were gagged--it reminded me of the kind of wordless communication Batman and I developed after a while. Only I had with Green Arrow on our very first outing!
Whoops,that makes it sound as though I'm anxious to do this kind of thing again. Sorry, but I hung up my cape back when Strange got his creepy hands on it. I'm in retirement now, and NOTHING is gonna change that.
And that's a promise.