Dark stories, tales of whimsy and random brain droppings.

Bat Geriatrics

“Alfred! Get me my cowl.”

“But, Master Bruce. You donated that to the museum years ago.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The years are starting to slip by.”

“To be honest, I don’t understand how I’m still alive, sir.”

“Where’s Dick?”

“He’s in the playroom with his children, sir?”


“Remember, sir? We converted the Bat Cave.”


“A brandy, Master Bruce?”

“Yes, Alfred. A brandy would be fine.”

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