I'm Gona Eat Your Brain
A novel by Anikanlove
A lark warbled outside the window of stately Wayne Manor, cheerful as the sunrays, which drifted between the curtains to illuminate the room with a sleepy, morning sort of glow. A thin, soft smile crept across the face of one Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy philanthropist, as the light snuck over his bed to fall across his eyes.
Bruce Wayne, rich though he was, relished in the simple pleasure of morning sunlight if only, it sometimes appeared to him, because it was something one couldn't buy in it's natural form. The nesting lark, that was something else.
He stretched, burrowed deeper within his covers, and shifted so that he was lying on his side. He took pleasure in the fact he could take his time waking up. There was no hurry. It was a beautiful Saturday morning. Bruce was planning on sleeping until about noon, getting up, getting dressed and working on something crime related for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening. Yes, he was planning on playing it low key today and just relaxing and enjoying himself. Nothing could ruin today, nothing.
Bruce's eyelids dropped lazily and he was just about to drift back into that halfway dream filled slumber one falls into on mornings when they are left alone for a while when he felt something heavy drop on him, jarring him into wakefulness. He rolled over, ready for action. There, jumping up and down excitedly on his chest was his young ward Dick Greyson.
"Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce", Dick said, hopping up and slamming down on Bruce's chest. Bruce gave a grunt and shoved Dick off.
"Oww", he moaned, but Dick persisted his brutal onslaught, clambering onto his mentor again with the exuberant look of a puppy so excited, it's going to piddle on the carpet if you don't calm it down. Bruce had known more puppies than he had children, so he just assumed they both worked the same way and picked Dick up to calm him.
"What?" he asked.
"My show", Dick said, eyes glowing like sapphires.
"No", Bruce moaned, rolling over to hide his head under his pillow. "I'm not getting up."
"Yes Bruce", Dick said insistently, climbing onto Bruce again. He straddled Bruce's side and pushed against the billionaire's bare shoulder. "You gotta get up and watch my show with me."
"No", Bruce moaned again, "don't make me get up."
"Come on", Dick pleaded, "you gotta, you just gotta, it's our tradition, our morning ritual."
"You make it sound like we're part of some kind of horribly satanic cult or something", Bruce growled. There was silence for a moment and the billionaire lifted the pillow a little and peered at his ward from beneath it, which was a mistake because Dick immediately stuck out his bottom lip in a pleading gesture, his bright blue eyes growing wide with silent petition.
"No", Bruce growled, "you always get me with those damn eyes of yours."
"Yippie", Dick cried, sensing he had won a pivotal battle in the war to turn Bruce into an early riser, "come on." He grabbed Bruce's hand and started tugging insistently.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming, I'm coming", Bruce said sleepily, suppressing a yawn. Dick dragged him down the stairs and then scurried up to the television to turn it on. Bruce sat down on the ground, cross-legged and Dick bounced over to curl up in his lap, his blanket wrapped tightly around him so that he looked like a little worm. The music blared loudly from the set. Bruce closed his eyes, leaned back against the couch and ran his hand over Dick like he was stroking a kitten. He was about to fall back asleep when Dick's outraged voice rang through the air and the child leapt from his lap.
"This isn't my show", he said, affronted. Bruce opened one eye.
"Yea", he said, "it doesn't look like Crapbots at all."
"Bruce", Dick said admonishingly, "it's Dinobots, not Crapbots." He rolled his eyes at his mentor's naiveté.
"Ohh sorry", Bruce said sarcastically, "guess I forgot the name or something." Dinobots, Dick's newest favorite TV show, had spawned from the creative minds of the brilliant producers at kidstv on one lazy Sunday afternoon when they were all looking morosely at their ratings chart, which greatly resembled a centipede, flat and low to the ground. Their official meeting went something like this:
"Our ratings are horrible, it's all your fault Harry, you and that stupid show about talking guns"
Well, you know, kids like guns so I figured what the heck, why not make them talk. It's heightens the appeal. Anyway William, I don't see you coming up with any good ideas. In fact, I haven't seen you do much of anything of late."
"I have a life, I'm not fat and ugly like you."
"Your mom is fat and ugly."
"Hey guys, I just thought up a great idea."
"Stay out of this James, it doesn't concern you."
"No wait, I just got it, kids like dinosaurs right?"
"And kids like robots, right?"
"Well, lets do a show about Dinosaurs that are robots. If you put two things kids like together, it's bound to make them come running."
"Yea, and we can have like a pink pony robot thing so we can appeal to little girls too."
"Yea, how could this possibly go wrong?"
Well needless to say, this idea proved futile and the ratings chart actually started to resemble a centipede crawling down a very steep hill. In Bruce Wayne's opinion, the show as one of the worst he had ever seen, but Dick liked it so he resisted the urge to call the producers and inquire as to their level of intellect. Now though, facing the TV, it seemed he would have that temptation no longer.
"Well, I guess they canceled the show, such a shame, I'm going back to bed."
"No wait", Dick said, "it looks like there's a new show. It looks cool." He crawled back into Bruce's lap and settled himself, eyes glued to the television.
"It was horrible Alfred. It was like all the creativity got sucked out of some producer's head, so they took whatever was left and crammed it all into one TV show."
"So", Alfred quarried, pouring a cup of coffee for Bruce as the young billionaire sat at the kitchen table, "it was worse then master Dick's previous TV show?'
"A lot worse", Bruce replied, taking a sip of his coffee, "last week, I didn't even believe they could get any worse, but they certainly proved me wrong. In fact, I almost miss Dinobots."
"I don't", Dick said, zooming in, "this show is loads better. It's all about these aliens who eat people's brains Alfred."
"Really Master Dick?" Alfred asked as he set a plate of eggs in front of the young boy. Dick hopped up on the chair.
"Yea", he said, "the aliens are big and green (they kind of look like J'onn, Bruce whispered to Alfred), and they have twenty bazillion tentacles (he waved his arms like tentacles and hopped up and down on his chair in barely contained youthful exuberance), but they can look like regular humans. They can be anybody." Suddenly, he paused and gazed at Alfred and Bruce for a moment. Then, he sped off at top speed, screaming as his bare feet padded across the hardwood, "they're gona eat my brain."
"I guess I'll just eat his eggs then", Bruce said, pulling Dick's plate towards himself, "he's probably gona be gone for a while anyway."
"Come on Bruce", Dick whimpered, "just once more, please!"
"I can't Dick", Bruce said, "Alfred has to take you to school and the members of the board for Wayne Enterprises are coming over for a meeting in ten minutes."
"Then we've got a whole ten minutes", Dick whined, "that's plenty of time." Bruce rolled his eyes and made a big show of tying his shoes before leaping at Dick. The nine year old shrieked at the top of his lungs and raced off screaming "He's gona eat my brain!"
Bruce was so busy sliding from room to room in an effort to quickly recapture his ward, he didn't even hear the shrill doorbell. Alfred did though and, being the good butler that he was, went to open the door. Standing there were all six of the corporate board members. Alfred cast a frenzied glance into the living room, but Bruce and Dick had rushed off to the other side of the house and so Alfred decided it might be safe to let the men in.
"Come right in good sirs", Alfred said, opening the door wide to admit all six of the men. The walked inside, glancing around and quietly commenting on the finery. Alfred puffed out his chest (he was the one that kept all that stuff nice and neat after all) and was about to tell them some of the more interesting stories about the house (since there were plenty and hardly anyone came over these days who had the time to listen) when Bruce came charging through the doors in all his corporate glory, tie askew, suit coat wrinkled and dusty shoe prints on his white shirt.
Dick he held aloft and upside down, screaming at the top of his lungs while the CEO of Wayne enterprises chomped playfully at his neck, growling the whole time, "I'm gona eat you." Everyone stared and it wasn't until after a moment that Bruce noticed their glances. He lifted his head from Dick's neck and said, "Hello gentlemen", in the stateliest voice he could muster.
"Hello Mr. Wayne", Mr. Abadabadabada said, "May I am inquire as to what you are doing?" Dick giggled.
"I'm just finishing some business", Bruce said, "I'll be with you in just a moment. Feel free to wait on the couch." All of the members sat down and immediately after, Bruce turned Dick right side up, threw him down on another one of the couches and climbed up on top of him.
"No", Dick shrieked, "have mercy." Bruce nibbled his neck again, whuffling his lips over the crook of Dick's shoulder and growling as menacingly as he could before straightening up with a pant. Dick grinned up at him.
"Now go to school", Bruce said. "One more", Dick said.
"No, no, time for school, I have a meeting, remember."
"Ohh yea", Dick said. Bruce climbed off the nine year old, who got up, put his arms straight out in front of him like tree branches, and waked slowly, stiff legged out. "I'm a zombie", he moaned, "you've taken my brain." Than, he grabbed his backpack and trotted out the door with Alfred in his wake.
"Now gentlemen", Bruce said, straitening his tie and dusting off his shirt, "How's the Wayne enterprises stock selling? Better than Luthor Corps I hope."
"I'm starting to get concerned Alfred", Bruce said as he twirled the spaghetti on his plate around a fork while Dick hunkered in his alien proof safety fort made out of couch cushions in the other room, "he's started a little cult with his friends now, look at them all." Bruce and Alfred peered into the living room where the entire male portion of Dick's class was running around, screaming about aliens eating their brains and chewing on each other's necks. One small child rushed into the kitchen and stood in front of Bruce. "Mr. Wayne", he said, putting his hands behind his back, "will you eat my brain? Dick says you're pretty good at eating people's brains." Bruce rolled his eyes.
"Can I finish my coffee first?"
"Sure", said the boy, "if you think it goes better with brains." He stood in front of Bruce, gazing up at him. Bruce took another sip and then lunged. The boy took off squealing and raced into the other room.
"I can't believe Dick invited all his friends to come and play at our house today. I hate large groupings of small children. They make me feel…uncomfortable." Alfred smirked. "Maybe I should take him up to the Watchtower. Yea, that'd be a good idea. He'll stop talking about that stupid TV show then."
"Sure", Alfred replied sardonically, "being around aliens for a while might help him stop thinking about aliens. I like your logic master Bruce."
'Hardy har har, Alfred", Bruce said sarcastically, "you're such a comedy act. Lets all go see the funny elderly British guy make fun of Batman why don't we?"
"I try my best sir", Alfred replied smugly.
"Mr. Wayne", several voices coursed from the other room, "come eat our brains."
"Yea, yea, I'm coming, I'm coming. Dick, would you finish your dinner. It's getting cold." Dick trotted in with a pouting expression on his face. "What's wrong baby bird?" Bruce asked, squatting down in front of him.
"I thought mine was the only brain you ate", Dick said, a scowl on his face. Bruce shrugged.
"Well", he said, "when you're a brain eating alien, you can't really be picky, now can you?"
"I guess not", Dick mumbled sourly.
"But you know what?", Bruce said, pulling Dick in closer.
"What?" Dick asked.
"You're brain is more delicious then all of their brains combined."
"Really?" Dick asked.
"Really", Bruce replied, "alien neck sucker's honor." He waved his hand like a tentacle and then placed it on his heart. Dick giggled, hopping up onto his chair to eat. "Why do I encourage him?" Bruce asked from the ground.
"Master Bruce, most of what goes through your head is beyond me."
"Brains!" Dick shrieked, "There's brains on my plate." Bruce heaved an enormous sigh just as ten small children raced into the kitchen.
"Come eat our brains Mr. Wayne", they chorused.
"Alright", Bruce said languidly, "here I come." He got up and raced after the diminutive boys, who shrieked and scurried away.
Robin usually gaped in awe when he saw the watchtower and today was no exception. However, it was for a different reason that he marveled at its pristine technological beauty.
"It's the mother ship", he whispered to Batman, perching on the dark knight's shoulders so that he could see over the counsel, "All the brain-sucking aliens live there."
"Yup", Batman said, "every single one. In fact, why don't you tell Clark about how much of a brain-sucking alien he is. J'onn too while you're at it. He's been bothering me lately."
"Ok", Robin said, hopping off Batman's shoulders. As soon as the dark knight landed his ship, the boy bounced out and raced off. Batman gave a sigh of contentment.
"Ahh", he said to himself, finally some peace.
The computer's tiny beeps were music to Batman's ears. That was what he liked about working in the watchtower, there was a plethora of people to yell at and the computers made such loud and obnoxious noises, they kept his brain busy.
Batman was reading reports. Most people found these sorts of reports rather dull after a while, but Batman considered them to be a psychological endeavor. It showed just how pathetic and desperate for attention human beings could be.
The Justice League received millions of claims every week about problems people were having in their cities. If the problem was deemed sufficient enough to require the League's attention, it was addressed. But, someone had to go through all the reports.
Batman had programmed the computer to read the forms and look for certain key words to rule out some of the more mundane problems people had, which left the reader of the day to go through the more outlandish ones. Batman was currently quite entertained with a quaint little story he was reading about a killer hamster that ate one woman's family and promptly asked her to marry it. The wedding was scheduled to be the following Tuesday.
Batman gleefully wrote back, promising that Superman would attend. He was just about to move onto the next report about a mad scientist living in a YMCA shower when he heard a loud altercation resounding from outside of the room. Then, he heard his name. 'Uhh Ohh', Batman thought to himself, 'this can't be good.' Superman and Robin burst in, yelling at each other.
"Stop it Robin", Superman whined, "I'm not a blood sucking alien."
"Yes you are", Robin yelled, "tell him Bruce."
"Bruce", Superman moaned, "make him stop, he's hurting my feelings."
"What am I, your mother?" Batman snapped, "Take it up with Diana." Robin and Superman took one look at each other and went tearing down the hallway screaming,
"Ahh", Batman breathed, peace once again. Batman, however, was sadly mistaken, a fact he soon realized. If the stomping and arguing didn't first alert him, the sight of Wonder Woman, a very sour expression on her face, holding his son by the scruff of his little neck certainly did. "Batman", Diana said in a tight strained voice, "I respectfully request you remove your protégé from the premise this minute." Batman faced her with a tired expression. There were ten other heroes behind Diana, all glaring at the dark knight like they were on a witch hunt and he was the quarry.
"I thought they stopped thinking I was possessed by demons last year", he muttered under his breath to no one in particular, noting with acutely ill humor that none of the Leaguers surrounding Diana were earthbound. "What did he do now?" Batman asked.
"Ohh nothing", Jan said sarcastically, "just keeps going on about people's brains and how we're going to eat them."
"Its insulting" Shiyera added angrily, brandishing her mace.
"Your annoyance has been duly noted", Batman replied in his most haughty voice, "however, I still have work to do here so you all are just going to have to put up with him a while longer."
"I can't take it any more Batman", Carter snapped, coming foreward, "just look at him." Robin's eyes were big and wild and he was straining towards Superman, mouth open
"Nom, Nom, Nom, brains."
"Ohh son", Batman sighed, "why?"
"They're all gona eat our brains Batman", Robin said brightly, "isn't it cool?" Batman rolled his eyes.
"Fine", he said, "we'll leave, come on Robin, lets go bother someone else." He took Robin from Diana and placed the boy on his shoulders. "You know Robin", Batman said as he walked out, "this is kind of getting out of hand. I think you need a psychiatrist or something." But, Robin wasn't listening anymore. He was too busy sticking his tongue out at Hal Jordan to notice.
"But", Hal protested, "I'm not even an alien."
"But you have an alien ring", Robin said with an air of authority, "and its gona eat my brain."
Batman's cape whipped in the wind as he flew through the air on his bat rope. The cool, crisp evening did wonders for his tired mind. All he needed now was a villain to beat up and he'd be back to his old self. Then, as if God had decided to throw him a bone, so to speak, his little bat beeper on his belt started making it's irritating noise. "Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Batman", Robin said excitedly, "I wonder which villain is out now." Batman smiled at him.
"Well", he said, whomever it is, he's going down."
"Yea", Robin said, leaping up, "and I'm gona eat his brain." Batman rolled his eyes.
"Whatever", he said. "Now lets go." They followed the beeping little device to a local convenience store, or as Batman liked to call it, a stop and rob. Just about any crazy with a gun could walk into these places and come out with a fistful of cash. He had even seen one held up with a plastic sword once.
He swooped down and was surprised to hear the Riddler's annoyed voice as he alighted quietly in front of the establishment. "Will you hurry up Hatter, I'm getting really board."
"Just one more minute Riddler."
"Batman's gona be here any second, this bozo just called him huh."
"Actually Mr. Riddler, I haven't called him yet. I haven't called anyone yet."
"Well, what are you waiting for?"
"I wanna leave and I can't entice him to hurry without Batman breathing down our necks." Batman peered into the window, playing witness to a very odd sight. There was the Riddler, glaring down at his watch and tapping his foot annoyedly while holding a gun up to the face of a very bored looking casher with his hands in the air. A few people lay on the ground with their hands over their heads.
"You know sir", the cashier called, "you might like to try stealing some of those instead of just reading them here."
"Let me finish my last page", the Mad Hatter snapped. He was beside the magazine rack, long hooked nose buried in what appeared to be some sort of comic book.
"Could you tell your friend to hurry up", the cashier said to the Riddler, "I was supposed to be off ten minutes ago." The Riddler rolled his eyes.
"Hatter, we came here to steal money, not read some stupid magazine."
"Actually", the cashier said, "there's a really good people magazine in there, all about Selena Gomez."
"Ohh", said the Riddler, "pick me up one of those Hatter. I love that Gomez chick. She's about as crazy as I am. Why would you date Justin Beiber? He is such a chick." Batman decided he'd seen enough and leapt through the window, crashing glass everywhere.
"Hey man", the cashier said, "you better pay for that."
'I thought you said you hadn't called him", the Riddler quarried.
"It's just standard procedure to lie, you know."
"Yea", the Riddler said, "I guess."
"I'm taking you both in", Batman growled.
"Yea", said the Riddler, "I guess I deserve to be taken in after I've sunk to robbing little places like this dump." The cashier nodded knowingly. Batman leapt at the Riddler, who jumped away lithely and perched atop the counter. "That doesn't mean of course, the Riddler said, that I'm going down without a fight. Might as well make you work a little Batsy." Then, he came at Batman with his stick.
As the two battled, knocking down piles of stale donuts and small packs of cigarettes, Batman noticed Robin wasn't with him. "Robin", Batman yelled, "I could really use you help here."
"Yea Hatter", the Riddler called, "Where are you?"
"Coming" the two called, "just a sec." Batman and the Riddler looked at each other curiously and stopped fighting to gaze around one of the shelves. There was the Mad Hatter, reading something with Robin by his side, peering over the rim of the page.
"What is that?" Batman asked. "Alien Brain Suckers made a comic book, look Batman!" Robin said excitedly.
"Wait" Batman said, "Hatter you like that show too?"
"Of course", the Mad Hatter replied, "It's even better than Dinobots."
"I know", Robin said excitedly, "isn't it."
"Now", said the Mad Hatter, "you two keep battling and Robin and I will join you when we're done. This is the best part."
"Yea", Robin said. Batman gave the Riddler a bewildered look, who simply shrugged at leapt at him again. They continued to fight, knocking over the cash register and receiving several dirty looks from the cashier, who had to clean up after they were done and wanted to get home, drink a beer, and pretend like the whole world didn't exist and that he didn't have a horrible job.
"Commissioner", Batman growled, stepping out of the darkness.
"Yikes Batman", Gordon said, "I swear, you're going to kill me one of these days." Batman gave him a glare. "Alright, alright, what did you call me here for anyway?"
"What do you know about kids?" Batman asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.
"You having trouble with Robin?" the Commissioner asked.
"Something like that", Batman replied. They both glanced over at the villains, who were tied together on the opposite rooftop, and Robin, who hovered around them like a bloodhound on a scent.
"I'm gona eat your brains", the boy cried excitedly.
"No", the Mad Hatter replied, "I'm gona eat your brains."
"No", Robin countered, "I'm gona eat your brains first."
"Well, then, after you eat my brains, I'll just eat yours." Robin gave a squeal and raced circles around the villains before bouncing back in front of the Mad Hatter.
"I'm gona eat your brains so much", he said, "you'll never be able to eat any one else's brains ever again."
"Batman", the Riddler moaned, "please, make it stop. I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just please, make it stop. This is so horrible."
"I can see your problem", Gordon said mildly.
"So", Batman muttered pleadingly, "What should I do?" Gordon shrugged.
"Take him to a psychiatrist, I don't know."
"Do you really think it's that bad?" Batman asked.
"Brains", Robin squealed loudly.
"Yea", said Gordon, "I think it is." Batman gazed dolefully away.
"And so Gordon thinks I should take him to a psychiatrist, what do you think?" Oliver Queen shrugged.
"I don't know", he said, "I guess. I don't think it's that bad though." Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek came from the other room. Ollie and Bruce rushed in to see Roy cowering beneath the couch and Dick gazing mildly away.
"What happened?" Bruce asked.
"I only told him Ollie might be a brain sucking alien", Dick said innocently, "he just overreacted."
"Dick", Ollie moaned, "Roy is sensitive."
"He's a cry baby", Dick muttered darkly. Roy faced Ollie with large terrified eyes and pushed himself further beneath the couch.
"Ohh Roy" Ollie cried, "please come out."
"No", Roy replied, "you're gona eat my brain."
"No I'm not", Ollie pleaded, "I promise, I won't touch your brain, I swear on my mother's grave." Roy gave stubborn snort and hunkered down.
"Hey", Dick said, "you never can be too careful, you never know who's gona be a brain eating alien after all." Ollie cast Dick a baleful look.
"Roy, come on", the emerald archer said, forcing himself under the couch. "Please son, please come here." He held out his arms to Roy, who shrank away as if he'd been bitten.
"This is pointless", Ollie grumbled, "I'll just lift the couch." He started to pull himself out, but suddenly stopped. "Bruce", Ollie said.
"What?" Bruce asked.
"I think I'm stuck", Ollie replied. Bruce started to snicker. "This isn't funny Bruce", Ollie snapped, "there's dust under here and I'm allergic." He gave a sniffle and then sneezed loudly.
"Maybe you should go a little easier on the jelly donuts Ollie", Bruce sniggered.
"Shut up and get me out", Ollie snapped.
"No, no", Bruce said, "I think I'm enjoying this." He gazed wickedly at Ollie's back half, which was straining the get his front out from under the couch.
"Shit Bruce, it's a spider, damn it."
"Ohh no Ollie", Bruce said mockingly, "you're afraid of a spider."
"Bruce", Ollie wailed, "I hate spiders." He started writhing in place, trying desperately to get out.
"Spider", Roy shirked, and raced out from under the couch and into Batman's arms. Batman held him with one arm and lifted the couch with the other. Ollie shot out from under it, shaking and furiously rubbing the dust off himself.
"Did it get on me?" he asked Bruce.
"No", Bruce said, smirking.
"What's that on your head Ollie?" Dick asked. Ollie smacked his head furiously and gave a shriek as the spider dropped to the ground. He raced around to hide behind Bruce. Bruce rolled his eyes and picked up the spider. Both Roy and Ollie screeched and darted away from him, retreating to the corner of the room clinging to each other. Bruce tossed the spider out the window. As soon as it was gone, Ollie came out of the corner, glaring at Batman.
"Get that demon child out of my house this minute Bruce", he snapped, "I don't want him anywhere near me." Bruce gave a sigh.
"Come on Dick." As Bruce closed the door behind himself, he could hear Ollie gently talking to Roy. "Don't worry buddy, we'll sit down and watch Barney ok, forget this ever happen.
"Dick", Bruce said, "I think you need counseling." But Dick didn't hear him. He had already skipped off, singing a little song about brains.
"So Mr. Greyson, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"
"Well, my name is Dick and I like brain-eating aliens."
"I see", the psychiatrist said, pushing his large, plastic rimmed glasses a little further up his nose. "Do you think this obsession has something to do with your feelings of inadequacy about you own intelligence?"
"No", Dick said brightly, "Bruce tells me I'm smart all the time. I just like brain-eating aliens."
"Were you ever threatened, perhaps by someone who reminded you of an alien?"
"No, I like aliens, they eat brains."
"Does Mr. Wayne ever hurt you?"
"What does that have to do with brains?"
"Well, perhaps you feel somehow inhuman because of the way he treats you and so believe you are an alien."
"I'm not an alien silly", Dick replied, "Aliens are green with a whole bunch of tentacles. Like Superman!"
"Then why do you pretend to be one?"
"Cause it's fun. Bruce chases me around the house and pretends to eat my brain. It's really cool. I'm hungry, you got any candy? How 'bout brains, you got any of those?"
"Well", Bruce asked, when his ward and the psychiatrist emerged from the room, "Is he cured?"
"He'll need further treatment", the psychiatrist said stoically.
"What", Bruce said, "how come he isn't cured?"
"You said you could cure him, I want my money back."
"You can't simply cure someone immediately Mr. Wayne, that's not how counseling works."
"Well, why don't you just give him a pill or something. It just doesn't work that way."
"This is jank, we are so out of here. Come on Dick, lets go."
"Coming", Dick called. He had been examining a plastic model brain in the waiting room.
"Counseling, hah, who needs it?" Bruce got into the limo with Dick by his side. "I've never gone to see a counselor in my life and look how I turned out."
"Yes Master Bruce", Alfred said dryly, "you certainly are the quintessence of a normal human being, aren't you?" Bruce gave a sniff.
"Your sarcasm is not appreciated Alfred", Bruce said haughtily, "and anyway, I didn't ask your opinion. I don't know what I was thinking, taking Dick to that psychiatrist, he's a perfectly normal child."
"Brains", Dick shirked, racing up to the window. Bruce put his face in his hands and moaned.
"Alfred, what am I gona do?"
Robin and Superboy put their heads together, giggling. "Boys", Batman said warningly, "What are you doing?"
"Nothing", Robin replied innocently, and giggled again.
"Now you two", Batman said, kneeling down in front of the two snickering children. "Don't cause any trouble ok. This is a very important speech for Superman and he needs to make this go smoothly."
"Why is he giving a speech anyway?" Robin asked sassily.
"Because", Batman replied, "he needs to inform the World Leaders of the state of the interstellar war on Weebee twenty-three."
"That was a really boring sentence", Superboy said moodily, crossing his arms, "I don't like it when you talk, all your sentences are boring. And why are there twenty-three Weebees, did they run out of names or something?" Batman rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I can see talking about this in detail with you will be somewhat pointless", he muttered dryly. "Regardless, this speech is important and we have to make sure it goes perfectly."
"Whatever", Robin grumbled, "can we go to I-hop afterwards. I'm hungry."
"Sure", Batman said, ruffling his hair. Then, he walked away.
"Hey Robin", Superboy whispered, "lets ruin Superman's speech."
"Why", Robin asked.
"'Cause it'd be fun", Super boy replied, "and I gots an idea on what to do."
Superman stood up, chest puffed out, and gazed fondly at the world leaders before him. He was proud to be in their presence and giving this speech. He was slightly worried about Superboy though, who, under Robin's influence, had swiftly accepted, embraced and grown to love the idea that he and his mentor could be brain-sucking aliens, but he pushed that aside. Now was the time for the speech.
He had just opened his mouth, about to capture the hearts and minds of humans everywhere with rousing tales of heroism on the far away planet of Weebee twenty three when a small streak of blue and red shot up onto the stage. "Quick everyone, run for your lives, Superman is an alien and all aliens suck brains." The World leaders started to whisper amongst themselves, gazing anxiously at Superman.
Superman gave a nervous little laugh and said, "Kids, he's just joking of course. Brains are hardly a staple in my diet." Suddenly, Robin stumbled out, his face deathly white and covered in purple spots.
"Ohh", he moaned, "Superman sucked out my brain. I'm a brain sucking zombie and I'm gona eat you all." The glazed look left his eyes and he leapt into the crowd. As fate would have it, his unlucky victim was to be Octi Porpie, the leader (or Duepple, which was the term the people used to refer to their king) of a suspicious little country called Dupeyvania, which firmly believed in the existence of a creature known only to them as the Be Bop Boop, which sucked out people's brains through their necks.
Naturally, when a small, pale, spotted boy latched himself onto the unsuspecting Mr. Porpie like a giant leech, the Duepple was somewhat concerned for his well being and alerted everyone else to this by crying out in his native language, an obscure dialect which consists of clicks and slurs that sound remarkably close to the sounds aliens make in cheesy old horror movies popular among world leaders at the time.
"He's eating his brain and turning him into one of his own kind", Superboy screamed. The stands quickly fell into pandemonium as leaders from all the world's nations erupted like a volcano of frightened, powerful, alien fearing people. Robin detached himself from the Duepple's neck and darted away into the crowd, further adding to the hysteria.
Superboy hardly helped the situation by yelling at the top of his lungs, "He's running off to find a human host to carry his young. Run for your lives." No one stopped to ponder the fact that, first of all, Robin was male and second, the Duepple still possessed a brain, they simply darted away in terror. Superman, all the while, stood at his podium, crying for order and desperately pleading with the people, trying to explain that he wished to consume none of their vital organs.
All together, it was total havoc, and Superboy, a big fan of chaos, snickered wickedly in a corner, stabbing his Superman voodoo doll with a pin painted green. Robin trotted up to Batman, who was standing in the corner, watching the people with an expression, somewhat resembling a man who has swallowed a frog, and wiped the makeup off his face.
"It looks like Superman's done with his speech", he said innocently, "Can we go to I-hop now." Batman surveyed the scene a moment more, taking in the sight of the world leaders fleeing in panic and Superman trying desperately to calm the public and then heaved a great sigh.
"Yea, alright, lets go."
"Yippee", Robin said, and trotted out of the stadium at Batman's heels, singing a little song he made up about brains.
"It's coming on, it's coming on, it's coming on" Dick cried excitedly, jumping on Bruce's chest with the sort of exuberance only a nine year old can muster. Bruce gave a grunt as Dick landed heavily on his stomach, forcing the wind out of him, and got up slowly with a groan.
"Ohh Dick", he moaned, "don't do that."
"Hurry", Dick said insistently.
"I'm coming, I'm coming", Bruce said. He got up slowly, stretched, yawned, and then promptly fell back onto the bed.
"No", Dick cried insistently, "get up." He grabbed Bruce's hand in his tiny ones and tugged mercilessly. Bruce slowly got up and followed Dick sleepily out of the room. "Yippee", Dick cried, sensing his victory. He bounded down the stairs like a stag, Bruce lolling slowly in his wake.
As soon as he made it down the flight, he sat down heavily on the ground. Dick turned on the TV, grabbed the remote, and raced over, curling up on Bruce's lap with a blanket wrapped tightly around his small form. But, aliens did not end up gracing the screen that morning. Instead, a picture of the promo poster came up and a bored sounding voice resounded.
"Alien Brain Suckers has been canceled due to the generous donation of a viewer in the amount of one million dollars." Dick's jaw dropped open.
"Who would pay to get rid of Alien Brain Sucker's?" Dick said, sounding heartbroken.
"Gee I wonder", Bruce replied, scratching the back of his neck somewhat guiltily, "who could it be?" Dick buried his head in Bruce's chest and sobbed. "Aww", Bruce said, stroking his hair, "it'll be ok. Don't worry. There are plenty of good shows out there."
"But…I…like…this…one", Dick sobbed. Bruce was just about to offer to take Dick to the zoo for a few hours that morning when the announcer voice suddenly continued.
"And now for the newest edition to the quality programs (Bruce snorted) on kidstv." Dick sat up interestedly, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"Hiya", Dick said excitedly racing around the room.
"It's even worse than the last one Alfred", Bruce moaned, "what am I gona do?" Alfred gave a sigh.
"Find a better psychiatrist I suppose", he replied, "I guess I might as well go cook lunch." Bruce was left in the living room with Dick, the young boy singing with everything in him, the theme song of his newest favorite show.
"Adolescent Altered Samurai Snakes duh na na na na nanaaaaaaa!"