Sorry Kids, I’m Not The Batman, I’m Just A Bat Man

By:
ericfeurer@me.com
www.ericfeurer.com

Ah, jeez, I could hear you kids jibber-jabbering since you got in this cave — you’re looking for Batman. Well, bad news buckos, you found a bat man. Not the Batman. That’s right, you found ol’ dirty Ralph. I am half man, half bat, all disgusting. This is not the Bat Cave, it is a bat cave (and my home), so please leave.

The Batman is an imaginary hero with a cool suit and gadgets to help him fight crime. I am a real mistake of god, with no sweat glands. I am a freak — good day to you, children! Let me echolocate you the way out.

SKREEEEEEEE

SKREEEEEEEE

SKRE–

It’s that way. Check yourself for ticks — I’m absolutely covered in ’em. Kids come in here all the time because someone told them Batman lives here. It is a cruel joke of which I am the butt.

Listen, the only [sneezes]…Excuse me, I’m allergic to myself. Listen, the only similarity between his story and mine is that we are both orphans. His parents were murdered, and one of mine definitely fucked a bat. And that doesn’t make me a vampire — vampires eat blood and need to be invited into your home. I eat cicadas and have never been invited anywhere ever.

In fact, let me take you through my day, and let me know if this sounds like hero material: 7:00 pm — wake up. 7:05 — scream “Why?” at my reflection in a pool of stagnant mosquito water. 8:00 pm — produce nutrient-rich guano, which sounds nice, but is just fancy talk for taking a big shit. Then I eat bugs, hate myself, work on my novel, wash-rinse-repeat. [Sneezes] I cannot believe I’m allergic to bat dander — why do I exist!?

If I can be honest with you kids for a second, Batman has many enemies. The Joker, Riddler, Two-Face. I also fight a two-face: the two faces of manic depression. The silent killer…

Did someone just take a goddamn picture of me?!

SKREEEEEEEE

You sonuvabitch…

SKREEEEEEEE

Get over here — where are you…

SKREEEEEEEE

I’m gonna echolocate my foot right up your ass!

Christ, what’s the point? What if I was the Batman? What if my penis wasn’t corkscrew shaped? What if I had friends, and a butler, and my penis wasn’t corkscrew shaped? Sometimes I imagine my very own Bat Signal high in the sky. A beacon of…

[Sneezes]

Fuck me — never mind, I’m a living nightmare. GO AWAY!

And tell the other kids to stop leaving fan mail for the Batman at the mouth of my cave! “Dear Batman, you are the coolest.” “Dear Batman, thank you for keeping us safe.” “Dear Batman, gross!” Actually this last one is probably for me. Go on, get out of here!

SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

That’s not echolocation — I’m crying.

 

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