by John Sloan, TGCS
Two skunks converse, early Saturday morning outside a certain blogger’s house:
” So, the guy . . .”
“Yeah.”
“The guy on the porch”
“Yeah”
“He sees me there.”
“Uh huh.”
“And he starts waiving his elbows at me.”
“His what?”
“His elbows. You know. Where their arms bend.”
“I know what elbows are. What I don’t get is why he’d point them at you. They don’t do anything, well, other than make their arms bend.”
“Beats the hell out of me. I just kind of froze.”
“What he do next.”
“Came right at me with his elbows up.”
“He say anything?”
“Yeah, something like “see if you can get your jaws around this, evil beast.”
“Evil beast?”
“Go figure.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, but it’s kind of weird.”
“And the elbows aren’t weird”
“Good point.”
“So what did he say?”
“Well it sounded like . . . ”
“Yeah?”
“It sounded like: “I’m Batman.”
“No shit.”
“Yeah.”
“They say the damndest things sometimes, eh.”
“Yeah.”
“So, did you do ’em.”
“Christ yeah.”
“Not much choice, eh?”
“Nope.”
The End
About the Author:
John Sloan exists in both cyberspace (where he is a “Thuder” Gott) and within standard space-time (where he is a “lead analyst“, writer, funny man, and keen observer of his idiot friends.) This story was inspired by a certain blogger, excessive alcohol intake at a meeting of The Emily Chesley Reading Circle, and the blogger’s recounting of a 70s-era Batman cartoon in which the Dark Knight defeats a panther (or maybe a jaguar) by shoving his elbow into its mouth and dislocating its jaw. This was somehow important to the blogger for some reason which is fuzzy now.
by Mark A. Rayner