|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:10:14 GMT -5
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:11:09 GMT -5
Batman Issue 9: "Crooked Smiles" Written by Charles HoM (w/ thanks to JFJ) Cover by DrDread Edited by Ellen Fleischer
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:12:08 GMT -5
How does the saying go? Laughter is the best medicine? Yes, that’s it. Laughter is the best medicine. I don’t know who said that, or why, but they’re wrong. Laughter can be evil. Haunting. Laughter can stay with you forever; it can run around in your head as a funny joke or it can be carved into your brain like a trauma scar. Laughter can be evil. The last time Bruce Wayne felt true laughter… was when he was with his fiancée, Julie Madison, and they had just returned from a skiing trip to the Alps. She was beautiful, funny, and clever… And he had loved her. Loved her more than anyone else in the world. He had almost given up his oath, and retired as Batman, but then the laughter was stolen from him, and replaced by something darker. When the Joker slaughtered his wife-to-be and dozens of others at the fundraiser in the Chateau Desris, the laughter was gone. He had truly thought he could escape the shadow of his own identity, push forward as an entrepreneur… But no. The chance was stolen away by his archenemy. Insanity persevered over love, and Bruce Wayne was alone once more, trapped forever in the shadow of the Batman.
He thought the terror was over when he dragged the Joker back to his cell at Arkham. He had truly hoped that they could contain him… That the pain and agony that he had caused were over, that he would be gone from the streets of Gotham till the end of his life, but no, the maniacal madman escaped once more, this time travelling to Las Vegas to continue his crazed schemes. Barbara was there though. Barbara was keeping tabs on him. Bruce trusted her… But he still felt the void in his chest, where her laughter once resided… He lost one of the most important things to him that night… And he never really did recover.
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:12:36 GMT -5
Jimmy “Fatty” Phatsoni runs through the alleys, stumbling over trashcans and tripping over stray bits and piece. He is being chased because he has information, information from the top of the food chain… And if he catches wind of that… You can be sure he’ll swoop down from the skies and take it from him. Fatty runs across a basketball court, then stumbles over an errant ball, and falls face-first into the chain link fence, loosing any momentum he had. He takes a breath and spins around, only to have someone grab his lapels, and ram against the fence once more. He spits as the impact steals the wind from his lungs.
All that the hoodlum can see is a black mass; with burning eyes and gritted teeth, an image that will stay with him till the nightmares stop. “What do you know, Jimmy.”
“I don’t know nothing, man! Please… I’m out of all that now…”
“LIES!” Batman picks him up and holds him out, pushing him against the chain links. “Tell me what I want to know and I promise I won’t cripple you where you stand…” He holds him out with one hand, and then grabs the hood’s mouth, holding it tightly closed. “Now before you think of spouting some lie, remember: I know when you tell the truth and when you don’t. So think it through… Think about your children. Your wife.” The blood drains from Jimmy’s face, as the words hit him like a sledgehammer. He hasn’t seen his kids for three years, not since his wife took them away without a word to him. “Wh-What do you know about my kids?”
“I know everything about you, Phatsoni. I know where they are, what state, what address… I can make life real easy for you. I can tell you where they live. I’ll even draw you a road map. You’ll be able to see them again… now, WHAT DO YOU KNOW?”
Jimmy looks down at his hands, and takes a breath, and begins speaking. “There have been rumblings…” He takes another breath, “…that he’s back.”
“He?” Batman moves in close, pulling the criminal to his face. “Who’s he?”
“Joker.” Batman feels the blood rush from his face. He feels the pain of his loss and he hears the laughter echo in his mind. No. Not him. Not again. Not here, not in Gotham, again…
“Where?” Batman calmly releases the hood and lets him stand. “Tell me where and you’ll have the address.” He reaches into his belt and takes out a scrap of paper. Jimmy looks at it, and grimaces.
“I don’t know, Bats. I’m serious, I don’t know… But please… The paper.” Batman looks at the scrap of paper in his hand and pushes it into Jimmy’s chest. He hurls a small, bat-shaped grapnel. It disappears into the night sky. A moment later, so does the Dark Knight. Jimmy grabs the piece of paper and looks at the words printed on it. His grimace turns into a small smile as a tear falls from his eye.
“Finally…”
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:13:21 GMT -5
The only sound in the cave is that of fist upon rubber, again and again. He takes out his rage on the one thing that can take it. He punches with his right, feints with his left, and goes for the uppercut, gritting his teeth, and holding back the snarl inside his soul. Left. Left. Right. Right. He’s still holding in the anger. When he feels his muscles burn, he pushes himself harder; the pain initially helps to take his mind off the ache, but then he remembers why he’s doing this to himself and he grimaces. until He smashes through the rubber padding, into the stuffing inside, his hands bleeding, his eyes wet with tears. Why does he do this to himself? Why let the anguish overcome him? Why is it so hard with this villain? These memories? He shakes his head, and picks up his towel and shirt, and wipes his brow. He needed to bandage his bleeding knuckles now and the… The hunt will begin. He will find the homicidal comedian, he will drag him back to Arkham and he the evil clown WILL pay. It’s the only thing he Batman is willing to can do, no matter how far he is stretched. He can contemplate ending his Joker’s life; he could do it in moments. It would be so easy…. He could make it last, or he could make it quick. He could snap the lunatic’s neck or strangle him… He could punch the clown so hard in the chest that his sternum would splinter and bone fragments would enter his heart, causing a slow, painful death as he bleeds out internally... He could do it, but that would make him the same, as Joker. he can never cross that line. He needs for there to be that distinction. He can’t be compared to the Joker, because if that were true… The thought scares him. He places his cowl over his head, feels the cape flow behind his back, leaps into the car, and prepares to hunt.
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:13:45 GMT -5
“Harley, baby, did you do what I asked?” The voice is strained, dirty yet light.
“Oh, puddin’ you know I have. I can never keep anything from you. It’s going to be such a laugh, I tell you…” Harleen Quinzel giggles, rubbing the white make-up on her face.
“Oh my beautiful minstrel of misery, ever since you helped me out of Arkham, you’ve been such a doll face.”
Harley giggles again like a schoolgirl and places the black domino mask over her eyes. “I love it when you talk pretty, Joe.”
“For you, anything my killer honey bee.” The Joker smiles, and puts down the phone, and laughs manically. Las Vegas is a beautiful place this time of the year, and he still has no intention of leaving! The Royal Flush Gang is under his thumb, and he likes the feeling that gives his hand. But the trap is set, the danger real, and when his enemy enters the house of fun… He’ll die LAUGHING!
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:14:20 GMT -5
Batman rides through the streets, his police scanner active. He sifts through call after call, scanning for any report that refers to his target. Then, he hears it, a phone call to Gotham Central, maniacal laughter and a woman screaming. His instruments follow the call back to its source. He hits the brakes, squeals into a U-turn, and heads out of the city, following one of the older roads. It leads him to a large, ominous building, striking against the skyline.
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:14:40 GMT -5
The news strikes him in the chest like a hard punch. The next few words that Bullock utters hit him like a haymaker, and then it begins to settle in. The Joker was back in town!? He speaks on instinct, jerks out of his chair and grabs his coat. “Bullock, I want a squad ready yesterday, I want units ready to move on the first call we get of The Joker’s whereabouts…”
“Right, Jim.”
He picks up his holster and removes his weapon, checks the magazine and then grimaces. “Come on.” He leaves the building, followed by Harvey, and then they clamber into the unmarked vehicle, and get going. To hunt.
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:15:56 GMT -5
The large factory on the outskirts of Gotham City is abandoned. A large clown face is built onto the front of the building. It’s typical Joker, an obvious hideout, using the oh so typical clown motif to hide his evil plans… Batman enters through the skylight, and slides down his line until he’s in the rafters, high above the work area, ready for anything. The sensors built into his uniform pick up someone, weeping. As he presses a button on his gauntlet, the sound becomes louder. He follows the crying to its source.
He’s surrounded by large toys, conveyer belts and dust. He can smell something rancid, and as he places a small filter into each nostril he can hear the weeping intensify… “Hello?” As he enters a room, a sudden wave of realisation hits him and his eyes widen. Scattered in each corner of the room, rotting flesh and ghastly smiles appoint dozens of corpses, their face dyed white, their hair green, red grins stretched onto their faces in a haunting death mask. He moves between the bodies, a hand to his mouth, and comes across as small ledger with ‘Property of Joe Ker’ scrawled atop it in green pen next to a yellow smiley face sticker. He places it in a plastic bag and then takes a batarang from his belt. “Hello?”
“H-Help!” He turns and sees a woman sitting in the corner of the room, surrounded by corpses. “H-He’s gone for… for now… but… he’ll be back!” Batman puts the batarang away and approaches her cautiously.
“Who? Who’ll be back?” He places his hand on her shoulder and then gasps as the woman turns, white face paint covering her features and black lipstick on her lips.
“JOKER!” She sprays a small aerosol can in Batman’s face, and then kicks him hard in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him. He stumbles backwards and falls to the floor, his throat constricting as the toxin does its work. He feels something racing through his system, overpowering his mind and then--
“Heh.” He twists in his own skin, something creeping up his own spine. “Heheha…” He looks at his hands. His skin feels strange, like insects are crawling over it an overpowering feeling that he must laugh, some joke in his head, something so hilarious that he can’t help but giggle and snigger. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Harley Quinn pulls her wig off and then tugs on her mask behind her neck, pulling it over her face. “Mr J thought you’d find that one funny, Bats!” He looks at her, his eyes bloodshot and his irises green, even though the white slits on his mask do not reveal this, his lips scarlet and a sickeningly wide grin stretching over his mouth. “Hehehehe… The look suits you!”
“You… Hehehe… Think… Ha… Thi- This… This is funny?” He holds his chest, his lungs seize up with laughter. He is unable to breathe.
She scratches the side of her nose and then cartwheels in front of him. “How could I not, tall, dark and batty?”
“Well I DON’T!” He punches her hard in the face, knocking her out and causing her to fall to the floor. “Ha… Now that was funny… 10 for the landing… heheheahaha!” He pulls himself off the floor, and struggles with his belt, taking out a small mask and placing it over his clownish grin. “Need… To breathe…”
“FREEZE!” He spins around and bursts out laughing at the sight of Harvey Bullock and James Gordon. “I knew we shouldn’t have waited for back up… Whoa, holy hell… The freak’s dressed up as Batman!” Harvey looks to James and shakes his head. “What now, Jimbo?”
“By the book, Harv… ON THE GROUND, NOW!”
Batman smile nearly fades, but then he motions forward moves towards them, his arms outstretched. “Jim, it’s--”
“He’s going for--” Harvey fires his weapon, and catches Batman in the chest. Batman slumps to the floor in a heap.
“HARVEY!” Jim shakes his head and places his hand over Bullock’s weapon. “Something’s not right…”
Bullock nods slowly, and holsters his weapon. “I’m gonna’ check the body, Jim…” He looks at Gordon and grimaces. “Cover me, ’kay?”
“Sure.”
Harvey approaches the fallen Batman and puts his fingers to his neck, but feels nothing. “Damn, whatever this mask is made of, I can’t feel a pulse. Nothing, nada.”
“Take the mask off then, Harv…”
Bullock rolls his eyes. “O’course, o’course…” He tugs on the mask and stumbles back, as an invisible stream of gas hits him in the face. “ACK! OH FU—WHAT IS THIS STUFF?!” He falls to the floor, choking on the compound in his lungs.
Batman jerks up, smiling. “Now that’s comedy!” He punches Bullock unconscious, and before Gordon can react the vigilante is upon him. One gloved hand finds the officer’s weapon and the other Gordon’s face, knocking his glasses off him and breaking his nose. “Sorry about this, didums!” Batman leaps up, springs into the rafters exits through the skylight, and vanishes into the shadows as sirens fill the air.
“H-Harvey?” Gordon stumbles up, blood from his nose, and then kicks his partner. “Ger’up…” Harvey coughs loudly, and then jerks upwards, looking at where Batman was formerly.
“Where’d he go?” He pulls his weapon out the holster, then looks at the unconscious body of Harley Quinn beside them. “An’ who’s the broad?”
“Sure looks familiar…” Gordon handcuffs her, and then pulls her to her feet. “My God… Harleen? Harleen Quinzel?”
She stirs, groggy at first and then buzzing with excitement. “Heh… That’s me, Jimmy Bob!”
Harvey scratches his head, and then looks at his partner. “Who?”
“This… this is the woman who released Joker from Arkham! She used to be his psychiatrist and now… What happened to you, woman?”
“Y-You’ll have to ssspeak up, Jimmy, I don’t sssspeak Cchhicagoian…” She talks with a slur, her jaw aching, but her smile is ever present, maniacal laughter on her lips.
“What?” Harvey raises his weapon and grits his teeth. “Watch your mouth!”
“No, it’s ok Harv, obviously she’s lost her mind… Come on; let’s get her out of here… What is this place?” He turns to Harley, who he holds onto tightly with Bullock.
“Where Mr J used to create his Smilex! Smilex Smilex Smilex Smiley-Ex! Makes you smile, makes you smile!” Harley laughs loudly. “And where he told me to…” She looks around, her smile becoming wider. “Nah, never mind…”
“What?” Gordon looks at her intently, curious and confused. “Where who told you what?”
“Where Mr J told me to lead Batman… And where Batman would find something VERY funny…”
Gordon feels the blood drain from his face. “Oh my. You mean…”
“Batman’s got a brand new bag, pig! Smile on his face and a mean itch to scratch because of it… Itch in the brain itch in the brain!” She giggles intently and then leans backwards, savouring the last ounce of laughter as it leaves her belly
“That… That was Batman?” Harvey runs his hand through his hair and then looks at his gun. “Holy Toledo… I shot Bats?”
“That you DID!” Harley laughs and then leans in close to the detective. “And he’s suuure to be pissed!”
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:16:32 GMT -5
Elsewhere:
He pounds against brick, again and again, as he tries to scratch the itch in his hands. He looks up and then slams his head into the wall. Then his laughter erupts once more, and he falls to the floor, blood pouring from self-inflicted injuries. The bullets in his chest hurt, not because they’ve penetrated his flesh, but because of the intensity of the impact; his body armour can only protect him so far … He grimaces, and then takes the book out from a compartment at the rear of his utility belt. “What… What’s this?” He opens to a random page, and his eyes widen. The handwriting is meticulous and the photos familiar… Victims. All victims of The Joker. But the dates go back ten, twenty years, and the ink… It’s not green… What’s going on?
Five Years Ago:
“WHO ARE YOU?” Batman grimaces, fists clenched.
“Y’see, I used to be called… something or other, but now that I’ve forgotten that, I don’t especially know, but I remember distinctly having been named the Hood. Robin… ? No, RED! The Red Hood. Yeah, that was suitable way back when, when I WORE a red hood. But now all I wear is this grin, this smile, so what do you think should be my new name, Grinny McGrinnyson?”
“What is this, some kind of joke to you? You’ve killed… dozens! Destroyed countless businesses… You’re a terrorist!”
“Oh, Batman…” the villain smiles and puts a purple gloved finger to his ruby red lips. “A terrorist?” He bursts out laughing and then straightens up, pulling his long, greasy green hair out of his eyes. “It’s just one small step! I’m looking for genocide baby, yeah! So come on, Pretty Eyes, let’s rumba!”
He dives for Batman. The dark knight dodges the purple-clad murderer’s attack, and slams his elbow into his foe’s shoulder, causing the pale-skinned monster to fall to the floor. The villain rolls to his side, and smiles. “I have it, mi amigo! I have it in my head case! I have a name!” Batman slams his fist into his enemy’s head, but the grinning clown rolls with the punch, and delivers a mighty kick to Batman’s ribs, nearly causing the young vigilante fall to the floor. “Smiley! Smiley’s the name and murder’s my game! No job too big, no job too small, I’m always willing to make a… KILLING!” He yanks off his glove and slams his hand into Batman’s shoulder, causing electricity to race through the costumed vigilante. “Buzz!” The hero screams as he collapses to the floor. The villain holds fast. “Think this smarts, do you Boy?”
“Smarts?” Batman smiles slightly, and then kicks up, snapping the villain’s arm, causing him to pull the buzzer away. “I bet that does.”
“AAAAAAH!” He looks at the bone protruding from his sleeve. “YOU BROKE ME ARM, CAP’N!”
Batman slowly rises from the ground, his cape surrounding him. “That’s not all I’m going to break.” He raises his fist, and slams into his enemy’s face, loosening teeth, and sending blood flying from the madman’s red lips. “I’m taking you down.”
“Heh… HAH! I wish!” Batman arches an eyebrow, and then slams his booted foot into the villain’s face, knocking him out cold. “Ha…”
“You’re going away forever, you maniac. You murderous Joker.”
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:16:57 GMT -5
Now:
“He kept… a journal… of his kills?” Batman bursts out laughing. He feels blood on his ruby red lips, and then pulls off his glove to, look at the damage he’s done to his fist. His white skin, is scratched and torn. Blood dribbles from the open wounds on his knuckles. “Heh… Now that’s funny.” He replaces his glove, and turns the page. His eyes widen, and then he clenches his fist. “Oh… Hah.”
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:17:35 GMT -5
One Year Ago:
“Why aren’t you laughing?” The Joker spins around, Tommy-gun in hand. Corpses surround him. “Oh that’s right… What a dead audience! BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Joker…” He spins around, but sees nothing.
“My mind must be playing tricks on me. Shut up, brain; I’m supposed to pull the pranks around here!”
“No. I’ll be the one talking.” He turns back and a gloved fist connects with his mouth. “I vowed the first time I beat you that you’d never again see the light of day. But you escape over and over… Not this time.” He picks up the ‘Clown Prince of Crime’, throws him through a glass wall, and watches him tumble and roll to a stop. “Never again.”
“Y-You didn’t think my little crime spree was good enough? All I did was shoot my mouth off!” The Joker smiles. “Oh, and I shot this too!” He pulls a revolver from his belt and fires, causing Batman first to blink, and then dive to the side. He looks up a second later, and watches as The Joker examines the small red flag that emerged after he pulled the trigger. It reads ‘bang’. “Oh chim-chim-cheroo! I’m firing blanks now, am I? The ladies hate that!” He winks at Batman and then bursts out laughing.
“Your sick little jokes have backfired on you, creep.” Batman storms towards him, anger flashing in his eyes.
“Not really.” The Joker pulls the trigger again, and the small flag erupts from the weapon and pierces Batman’s shoulder. It rips through body armour and flesh, stopping just shy of the bone. “See? A back up for a back up, a plan for a plan and a flag for a flag!” He throws the weapon away, and frowns. “That means you owe me a flag, my lovely!”
Batman looks up, pulls the flagpole out of his arm, and throws it aside. “No.” He dives at The Joker, narrowly missing the stream of acid that sprays from the small flower on his enemy’s lapel. “I owe you NOTHING!” He slams his fist into the villain’s chest, and then follows through with an uppercut to the jaw, which breaks more teeth and causes the clown-faced villain to fall to the floor. “Nothing…”
“Got… got… got your nose…” The Joker smiles feebly, hides his thumb between two fingers, and yanks Batman’s mask down his face, obscuring his vision. “Heh!” He breaks free of the hero’s grip. He sprints for the exit, but Batman swiftly throws two batarangs after him. One cuts into the back of his knee, and the other swings around his ankles, causing the Joker to collapse to the floor, dragged down by the slender line attached to it. “OW! You got me!”
It’s at this moment that the doors to the room burst open, and a squad of Gotham’s finest rushes in, guns raised and ready. “Y-You’re under arrest!”
“Does that mean someone can be OVER arrest? Aheh.” Joker looks up, pain on his face. “That… That may be very well and true my comrades, but I wish to press charges against that man! Assault and battery! Dangerous weapons! It’s all very much against the law!” He points in the direction of an exhausted and battered Batman. James Gordon emerges from behind the officers and shakes his head.
“I don’t see anyone, Joker. It’s another one of your crazy hallucinations.”
“I DO NOT SUFFER FROM HALLUCINATIONS!” The Joker shakes his head, outraged. “AND THAT IS SLANDER! SLANDER I TELL YOU! THEY SUFFER FROM ME!” He points to Batman, who has just recovered the flagpole that had punctured him and placed it in his belt. “DON’T YOU SEE THE MAN DRESSED AS THE FLYING RODENT? THE MAN IN BLACK! BATMAN! BATMAN! BATTYMAN!”
Gordon looks around and shrugs to The Joker, and motions all around him. “There’s no one here, Joker.”
“Y-You’re lying--”
“No.” Gordon shakes his head, Batman is gone once more. He must be exhausted, battered, and drained from this crime wave that has finally come to an end.
“You mean he doesn’t want to stay for the party? Doesn’t want to stay for my big ol’ party down at Gotham Central? Oh tut…” The Joker is handcuffed and then dragged up. As they are taking him away, he calls back. “I wanted him to make an appearance… Jumping out the cake!”
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:18:23 GMT -5
Now:
“JULIE!” He looks down at his hands and screams her name. Then he picks himself up, and drags himself to the rooftops, laughter replaced by the agony of memory. He had felt The Joker’s insanity in his mind. “J-Julie…” Suddenly, he is in darkness, somewhere familiar. “J-Julie?”
“Master Bruce, is that… Good lord!” Batman looks up to see Alfred Pennyworth, faithful family retainer with his shotgun in his hands. “Put your hands where I can see them!”
“My oh my oh MY! I’m thinking of redecorating! Spikes and chains and flames and everything to make every cave worth living in!” Batman bursts out laughing as Joker’s Smilex gas overrides his own thoughts. “Caves and chains and automobiles!” He looks over to Alfred, who has the shotgun levelled at his employer’s head. “Alfie! Come on, can’t you take a joke?” He laughs so hard he falls to the floor. When he looks up, his teeth are clenched together, “A-Alfred… It’s me… Joker… Venom…” he collapses onto the floor in front of his butler. He feels himself being dragged, and then hoisted onto a small cold table. “Smilex... Advanced infection…!”
“I know Sir, I had something prepared in case of an emergency like this…” Alfred presses a hidden button on Batman’s gauntlet, and pulls off the cowl. “Good lord… Don’t move, Sir.” He straps him down to the cold metal table and then feels for a pulse. It is abnormally fast, and getting worse. He takes the top off the needle, presses the syringe into his employer’s neck, and watches as his master convulses. “Calm down sir… You can think past the pain!” He watches as the tremors continue.
After a few minutes, Bruce’s skin colour improves, but he screams in agony as his immune system battles the infection.
“Fight it, Bruce… Fight it…”
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:19:49 GMT -5
Days later:
He awakens in his own bed, his chest aching and his face screaming with pain. He feels his mouth and smiles, but then realises the irony of such a reaction, and grimaces. He looks over to the end of his bed, picks up his dressing gown, and then stumbles out into the hallway, looking for Alfred. “Master Bruce, you’re awake!”
“Yes, Alfred… but everything hurts!” He laughs weakly, once again realising the irony of it after the events of the night prior to this one. “What’s been happening?”
“Nothing with which to concern yourself, Master Bruce. Miss Barbara telephoned with an update regarding… him. And Detective Gordon has been trying to get in touch with your other half.”
Bruce scratches the stubble on his chin, curious. “How?”
“He called men of influence, doubtless under the impression that they might know how to get in touch with ‘The Batman’. Bruce Wayne was one such contact. I advised the detective that you were in Sweden, attending to a private matter.”
Bruce scratches his stubbly chin. “And the ledger in my back pouch, did you recover that?”
“It’s sealed and ready for transport, Master Bruce. I’m assuming you’ll want forward it to the GCPD to assist them in building their a case against that felon whenever he is recaptured?”
“Of course. And let’s hope that the courts send him to Blackgate instead of Arkham this time…” He shakes his head. “I’m going to have a shower.”
Alfred shakes his head. “A bath. I’ll run it for you in a moment.”
Bruce smiles. “Thanks.”
“I like to think so. And after that?”
The man known as Batman rubs his chin and then nods. “I think I’ll check my computer, and then… I’ll return from Sweden, I suppose.”
“Of course. Your night clothes are pressed and ready.”
“For tonight?”
“Obviously for tonight.”
Bruce laughs. “And whatever the night might bring!”
|
|
|
Post by Admin on Jul 4, 2006 21:20:06 GMT -5
The End!
|
|
|
Post by mockingbird on Jul 28, 2011 11:03:59 GMT -5
To let us know what you think of this issue, please visit the letters page here!
|
|