“Still don’t see why he can’t get a ride,” I grumble. “He’s a brainless Chad. His brainless Chad buddies can drive him around.”
Katie, the soccer mom who’s been using me like a cheap piece of meat on sale at Costco, sighs in exasperation and rolls her eyes. “We’ve been over this, Kent. I can’t be in two places at once. Tanner’s got school, and I have a business meeting.”
“Doesn’t change the facts—he could’ve hitched a ride from a douchebag friend.”
“True, but he fucked up. I told him the next time it happened, he would have to spend time with the hot-cock author who’s been widening out his mom.” She pinches my cheek, gives it a wiggle, and chuckles mischievously.
“You’re evil,” I mutter.
“You love it.” She glances out the window. “This is my stop. Kiss.” She leans in and puckers her lips. After we smooch and she closes the door, I’m back on the road, heading over to her shithead son’s shitty-ass high school.
Looks like I’m early—no one’s outside. I shift into park, get out, and stretch my arms overhead. I suppose she’s right; this is a pretty bad/ingenious punishment. The awkwardness is gonna be a 12 out of 10. I should have fun with it: encourage the use of condoms, or warn him about the unsightliness of certain STDS. Ha! Maybe I should bring up—
My eyes settle on a shadowy figure, crouching in the branches of a nearby tree. What. The FUCK?
I walk up and yell, “Hey! Creeper! Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He turns his cowled head, revealing himself to be…holy SHIT! “I’m on a stakeout,” Batman rasps. “Go away.”
“A stakeout?” I sputter. “Get Robin to do it, you gross motherfucker! This is a high school! Wait a second…” Suspicion dawns, coalescing into a sickening realization. “You’re the new one…you haven’t ditched your pedo-vampire ways.”
“The fuck are you on about?” Batman hops down, rips off his cowl, and stomps toward me. “Check yourself, fuckhole, before I pull your lower intestines out from your ass, your upper intestines out from your mouth, and use your body as a motherfucking jump rope.” He jabs a finger into my chest.
I smack it away. “Fuck you, you Cedric Diggory-looking motherfucker! Step the fuck back, or I’ll sic Chris Nolan on your unformidable ass!”
“Oh no you did NOT!” he roars. “You are DEAD, you hear me??? DEAD!!!”
I parry and dodge a storm of blows, but it’s clear I’ve struck a big-ass nerve—I can’t keep up with his murderous barrage. So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
“I am vengeance!” he shouts. “I am the NIGHT! I—”
“Poor choice of words.” Chris Hansen emerges from an interdimensional portal, adjusting one cuff, then the other.
“Wait…what?” Batman collapses to a knee, clambers up, then lurches backwards, losing his balance and falling on his butt. “Stay back…” He raises an arm. “Stay back, damn you!”
“You’re over a hundred years old and you’re trying to date high schoolers. Tsk fucking tsk.” Hansen wags a finger. “Due to my background, my aura’s been imbued with unique energies, incapacitating to scum like you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to do—” He launches a kick into the unarmored section between Batman’s ribs and his bulky utility belt. “THIS!”
“HOOF! Edward Cullen curls into a ball.
“I’ll take it from here, Kent.” Chris gives me a nod. “Go back to ravishing hot-ass soccer moms, like the good lord intended.”
“Uh…thanks. What are you gonna do with him?” I eye Batman uncertainly.
“Beat his ass and rip his dick off.” He turns back to Edward and cracks his knuckles.
“Mind if I watch?”
“Be my guest.” Chris slides on a metal-threaded glove. Blade-like quills run up and down its palm. “Always wanted to give this a go. It’s called: ‘The Sausage Slicer.’ Those goddamn execs never let me use it. But now it’s different—I’m not beholden to their primetime bullshit.”
That thing looks NASTY. I hiss through my teeth. “On second thought…Imma go.”
“Suit yourself.” Chris flexes the Slicer.
As I run to the car, Edward’s scream carries through the air. “No, please! Dear God in heaven, don’t—NYAAAARRRGHH!!!”
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