So, dear friends, it has come to be that time again. Time to get back out there and work on my anger issues. Got my ride all spiffed up and ready to pancake some cop cars.
What does this mean for you? Well, stay tuned for some interesting stories as I get my groove back.
Huh, groove. Kinda like the grooves my gloves left in Riddler's face the last time he decided to "test" me. Tell me, Edward, is it easy to eat out of a straw?
Some of you may be new to this, so let's start work some introductions.
My name is Bruce, some of you may have heard of my work. I like beating people senseless, especially if they are wearing clown makeup.
As I prepare for another road trip this year, I've decided to have a little work done. And by that, I mean HAVING MY LEG REATTACHED AT THE KNEE BECAUSE THE LARGE MOUTH-BREATHER CURRENTLY RESIDING IN MY HOUSE IS A CLUMSY OAF AND BROKE IT. Not that I am mad, just a little epoxy and whammo, I am all good.
Be prepared, dear readers, for some epic adventures this summer. I will be bringing my special brand of justice to the south and it will never be the same!
Pictured below is the story of Bob. Apparently Bob thought it was cool the deface historical buildings by carving his name in them. Bob was caught and fined $100. If I caught Bob doing something like that in Gotham, after I beat him to a bloody pulp, I would turn him over the Gotham PD and have him labeled as a wife beating pedophile and put in general population at Blackgate prison. How does that work for you, Bob?
Alfred would have a conniption if he knew how much I ate at this place. Seriously, I consumed so much grub I need to let out my cape. Mama is a cookin fiend...
Stopped by Metropolis to see if Clark was interested in joining me. You would have thought I suggested blowing Krypton up again. Someone should take that kryptonite stick out of his butt. Should have stopped by Bludhaven to see if Nightwing was busy...
Hey, this vacation thing is pretty sweet. Not much better than a nice breeze, some sunshine and a comfy rocker. Hell, if I didn't have dirtbags at home to break bones on for my release, I would totally get a few of these and put them on the back porch at the Manor. All I need now is a cold beer and a serving wench to make me sammich...
Here we go, the family truckster, grocery getter, the soccer mom van. What the hell? How am I supposed to pancake police cars with this thing?!?! Next thing you know I will be settled down with 2.8 kids, driving a Volvo station wagon and living in suburbia in a McMansion! Alfred would probably be OK with the smaller house, less to clean. Not sure about the kids, though. Look how the last one he raised turned out!
