The Batman (Issue #7): A Slightly Lost But Beautiful Soul Finds its Perfect Home
When midnight comes and the day can no longer be denied, people approach the conquest of their Wednesday in a plethora of unique ways. Some picture a desert—endless and infinite. This sand-covered hellscape proves time and again that it holds the world's most honest economy. It is measured not by census data, but by overwhelming rivers of crimson blood and salt-coated waves of human tears, shimmering as they meet the blinding rays of a horrid, torturous sun. This nightmare’s primary import is lost souls; its only export is death. Some shout, "Hump day!" desperately trying to inflect hope. Others whimper, "We are only halfway, Steve..." before collapsing from exhaustion. But a brave few adore this day to a point bordering worship. I consider Wednesday the one day I fully allow myself to wake up and live as intended—a giddy man prepared to transform into my real self. I become the turbo-nerd comic boy-man, free of the cumbersome adult mask I wear to conduct ...