“Can fire trucks be purple?” I asked randomly.
Batman shrugged. “I dunno. I guess. I’m not entirely sure it’s legal, though.”
“Oh. Do think if there ever was a purple fire truck, they’d let me name it Barney and take it to birthday parties to scare little children?” I asked with a serious face.
Batman raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
I looked the other direction, twiddling my thumbs. “Weeelll. . .”
“Oh god, what did you do this time?”
“Y’know that really, really big piggy bank on top of our BatVending Machine of BatSnacks?”
“Where is this going?”
“Well, let’s just say ‘piggy’. . . took a little tumble to the fire station and Mickey’s Paint Emporium.”
“Does ‘piggy’,” he made air quotations, “Still have his interal organs?”
“. . . . . . . . Okay you lost me.” I giggled.
“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE BATBILLS!?!?!?” he shook me back and forth by my shoulders.
“I bought a purple fire truck!” I squealed happily and ran out to the front yard.
“Oh, oh nice. Park it on the grass, why don’t you!”
“Oh, that’s grass? I thought it was moldy cement. Ohhhh, that explains the garden gnome I ran over.”
Batman froze up.
“When I ran it over, I was like, ‘why is there a garden gnome in the middle of our driveway? Did I do that last week when I came back from Tokyo? Did Godzilla give me that gnome? Gee, that was nice of him. Oh, I should send him a muffin basket. Oh, crap. I think he’s allergic to blueberries. Bran muffins. I’ll send him bran muffins. Oh, poo. I don’t have his address. Wait, I think his second cousin once removed gave it to me on that letter he sent. Where did I put that letter? I think I put it by the giant piggy bank. Or did I put it in the giant piggy bank?’ so then I ran inside and smashed piggy, and it wasn’t there! But then there was money everywhere, so I shoved it all into a WalMart bag and decided to spend it, because piggy had gone to piggybank heaven and I didn’t have enough money to buy another piggy bank, but then I did have enough because I smashed piggy. Which reminds me,” I pulled a small golden piggy bank out of my back pocket and handed it to Batman. “I bought that for 30 cents! Anyway, I was like, ‘What am I going to spend all these BatBills on?’ then I heard this siren and I was like, “Is that an ambulance? Ooh, what if it’s a fire truck? I wish I had a fire truck. I think I broke my plastic one from Germany. Well that’s not right! I should get a new one. But red is such a violent color. Purple is sooo much better.’ So then I took the BatMobile and went over to the Fire Station and bought a fire truck for like. . . well I dunno, but there were lotsa zeros! Then I sped over to Mickey’s Paint Emporium and I had them paint it purple. Ooh, and the ladder and hose are green! Don’t you just love it?” I squealed.
Batman was at a loss for words. “. . .You. . . You. . .” he looked at me angrily. My smile fell from my face. “YOU RAN OVER HUMPHREY?!?!?” he yelled and chased me around the yard.
“HE WAS EVIL, I TELL YOU! EEEEEVVVIILLLL!” I ducked and hid underneath the BatPorch.
“HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND!!!” Batman threw a squeaky toy across our ‘lawn’, that looked suspiciously like moldy cement.
“Dude. . .no. no.” I said flatly. “OHMIGOSH, do you wanna hear a joke?”
“NO! I WANT SOMEONE TO COME HERE WITH A HOT GLUE GUN AND TOOTHPASTE AND REVIVE MY BEST FRIEND!”
“Oh, great! Did you know that 1 out of every 3 people have a mental problem?”
Batman raised an eyebrow. “No.”
“Now. . .think of your two best friends.”
“Uh huh.”
“Do they both seem pretty okay?”
“Uhhhmmm, yeaaaahh. . .”
“Ha, then it must be you!” I burst into laughter and rolled around on the grass.
“That’s. . .That’s not funny.” Batman said slowly.
“Oh, yes it issss!” I giggled, standing up. I slung an arm around Batman’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I already booked you a ticket for the Dr. Phil Show tomorrow at 7 o’clock.” I handed him a brochure that read “A Large Font Brochure With Coloring Pages And Mazes For The Mentally Challenged. By The Infamous Dr. Phillip G. ImTooSexyForMyBuisnessPants”.
“Robin, you’re the one with problems.” He laughed, handing me the brochure.
“Oh, curses!” I snatched the brochure and looked at the coloring picture of Finding Nemo.
“What?”
“I don’t have an orange crayon. How the hell do I color Nemo without orange!?! GAHH!” I screamed and chucked the brochure into the air, running inside.
I rummaged through my giant 5 foot by 3 foot 1 foot deep drawer that was full of BatCrayons.
“How the crap?” Batman said from beside me. He took a handful of BatCrayons.
“I like crayons and coloring pages from restaurants.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
“All these are from restaurants?”
“Yep. Oh, and a sixty pack of crayons my grandma gave me before she died.”
“She died? Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be! She was an old fart with urinary tract problems.” I said with a serious face as I continued to dig through the crayons.
“Is. . .This a Power Rangers crayon?” he held up a crayon that had been molded into the red Power Ranger.
“Yep. I made it when I was five.” I took it from him.
“Wow, that’s . . .cool. I guess.” He laughed.
“Yeah. I liked the pink one, but NOOOOO. I can’t have the pink one.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know!” I flailed.
He sighed and helped me dig. “And. . .Is this one a transformers crayon?” he held up a chunk of different colored crayons that had been melted together to create Optimus Prime.
“Yeah. Cool, huh? ‘Cept there’s a little chunk of his head missing cuz I liked to color with him.” I took the crayon from him. He nodded and pulled out another chunk.
“What is this?”
“Oh.” I laughed. “It used to be a glow-in-the-dark Megatron crayon.”
“What happened to it?” he flipped the chunk over in his hand.
“I went on a road trip to Arizona and accidentally left him on the dashboard.”
“Ooh.” Batman hissed. “Poor Megatron.”
“Never to color pictures of unicorns again.”
“Unicorns?”
“Oh, yeah. Megatron loved ‘em. He found that they called his senses when he was under stress.” I nodded.
“You’re crayons have feelings?”
“Duhh!”
“Riiiight. . .Well I think I’m going to go get some Old Lady Cake. Want some?”
“Didn’t we donate that cake to charity?”
“Yeah, but I kept a chunk of it in the BatFreezer.”
“Well then yes, or course I want some Old Lady Cake!”
We raced out of the room to go eat our frozen Old Lady Cake like there wasn’t a care in the world.
“Oh my Gawd, this cake is delicious!!” I chimed, eating my cake happily.
“I’m glad yours is okay, because mine tastes like Old Lady Purse.” The cake fell from his mouth.
“Ewwww!” I stuck my tongue out before my mind blanked and I continued to eat cake. “So I saw this picture of this guy, and his eyes were like WOAH! And I didn’t know if they were contacts or not, because I couldn’t tell but they looked so unnatural that I wasn’t sure!” I said quickly.
“What color?” Batman asked me, trying to separate the frosting from the cake.
“Purple.” I said, chewing the cake thoughtfully. “I’d be cool if they were real.”
“Okaayyy. . .” He stood up and threw his cake out.
I began to ramble about Evil Knevil’s MySpace and Batman looked at me like I was wearing 3 sweaters in the middle of Death Valley.
“And I was like, pssh, no you’re not! And he was like, Yeah, we are! Hooked up yesterday! And I was like, Heck no! That’s spanktastic! And he was like, I know right!?! I want candy! And I was like, oh, me too! And he was-“
“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT!?!?”
“I dunno.” I said curtly and placed my now spotless plate into the BatDishWasher. I sat back down and pulled out my book of Sudoku. I chewed on my bottom lip as I attempted to solve the puzzle.
“You know. . umm. . .there’s probably something better you could-“
“Shh! 1 . . .5. . .6. . .7. . .3. . .5. . – NO! NOT ANOTHER FIVE!” I grabbed my giant hunky BatEraser and erased the ‘five’.
“Why don’t we hop in the BatMobile and see if the city’s in danger, hmm?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Are you sure? Because there’s a sale over at Maurice’s Pie Shop and I was gonna go, but I suppose if my sidekick refuses to come with we won’t have any pie for a whi-“
“PIE!” I screamed and jumped on Batman’s back. “QUICKLY, MY TRUSTY PONY! TO THE BATMOBILE!” I yelled, pointing at the fire pole that lead to the basement. Batman threw me onto the couch and slid down the pole. “NOOO! FRANKIE! WHY HAVE YOU RUN AWAY!?!?” I chased after my pony. I slid down the pole, blowing on my burning hands when I reached the bottom.
“C’mon, Robin. Just get in the car.” Batman opened the door from his spot in the driver’s seat.
“Say you’re sorry.” I ordered, crossing my arms.
“Why?”
“You threw me on the couch and ran away! Ponies are loyal to their masters!” I stuck my nose in the air.
Batman looked around, as if I was talking to some invisible person that just happened to be standing next to him. “I’m not a pony!”
“If you’re not a pony, why do you keep stashes of carrots under your mattress?”
“Why were you in my room?”
“I was looking for Samuel.”
“Who’s Samuel?”
“My pet Madagascar Cockroach!” I smiled brightly.
Batman’s pupils shrunk. “C. . .Cockroach?” he gulped. “In my room?”
“Yeah, I never found him. . .” I scratched the back of my head.
Batman visibly shivered. “Just get in the car.”
“Fiiiine.” I whined.
We drove out to Maurice’s Pie Shop. We bought enough pies to feed Africa and that fat homeless guy on 2nd street.
“OHMIGAWD. THIS PIE IS DELICIOUS.” I said through mouthfuls of blueberry pie.
While we ate our pie, a giant Mickey Mouse clock was tearing down the city.
“Do you think we should do something?” I asked, poking my pie with my fork and glancing out the window every few seconds.
Batman pondered for a couple minutes.
“There go Cosco. . .” I said quietly as a large building caved in on itself.
“Shh! I’m thinking. . .” Batman silenced me with a wave of his hand. I blinked and watched the city capitol fall. After another five minutes, Batman shrugged. “Nahh, let the fire department take care of it.”
“But-“
“Shot your pie hole!”
I giggled. “Pun intended?”
Batman raised his eyebrows before finally getting his own subconscious joke.
We both fell to the floor laughing, and Oprah Winfry threw a napkin dispenser at us.
In the end, the giant Mickey Mouse clock ran out of batteries and the city was safe once more.