Batbloke And Bobin
The Fabricated Crusaders
in
Trapped!
Exciting but clich�d title
Batbloke And Bobin
The Fabricated Crusaders
in
Trapped!
Exciting but clich�d title
In St Wilbert's Hospital For The Temporarily
Batbloke replaced the receiver of the Coldline (direct to the Mayor's office), and turned to his sidekick Bobin.
Matron Wunderland strolled through the corridors of the hospital, checking in on the other wards. She stopped briefly at the ward for
Very Incontinent Young Ladies, and stepped aside as one of the patients ran past, headed for the ladies' toilets, which were possibly
the busiest room in the whole of Botham City.
The matron wandered onwards, towards the ward for Terminal Stupidity, a surprisingly common ailment in this city.
Batbloke and Bobin crept slowly and almost silently through the ornamental shrubbery. Batbloke leant closer to his young sidekick's
ear and whispered.
The Very Incontinent Young Ladies continued to use the toilets, in a constant traffic flow from their ward to the washroom.
Hours later, Batbloke and Bobin got fed up waiting.
Valerie Valium, who had been suffering from extreme incontinence for almost a month now, stopped in her tracks and looked at the plastic yucca rocking from side to side. She shrugged,
supposing that it had been caught by the breeze of the closing door, and continued walking, attending to more pressing matters. She ran into the nearest vacant cubicle as fast as she could.
Batbloke breathed another sigh of relief. He had been sure that Bobin would be seen, but thankfully his sidekick had seemed to have grown a couple of brain cells in the past few minutes. He relaxed
his tense body slightly, and leant against the locker. The locker was, in fact, not locked, and the door swung open slowly, but thankfully without a squeak. Batbloke risked craning his neck round the
corner to look inside the locker, and saw a yellow dress and a bucket. He realised that it was the uniform of one of the hospital's cleaning staff, and grinned as a plan formulated itself in his mind.
A few minutes later, after a bit of crafty stretching and awkward cross-dressing, Batbloke emerged from his hiding place, wearing the cleaner's uniform, and carrying the bucket. He quickly grabbed a towel
from one of the rails and wrapped it around his head, covering up the tall 'ears' of his superheroing mask. He lowered his head, and mumbled a greeting to one of the very incontinent young ladies emerging
from a cubicle.
"Thank jiminy creepers you're back, Batbloke!" said Bobin.
"Haven't you forgotten something?" said the Commissioner. He sighed heavily and made himself comfortable in the bed. "Oh well," he said to himself, "The food isn't too bad."
"Holy asking who was on the other end of the Mayor's private line, Batbloke!" the boy dunder(head) said, "Who was on the other end of the
Mayor's private line, Batbloke?"
"It was the Mayor," said Batbloke, "And he had some rather embarrassing news..."
"Holy what was embarrassing, Batbloke?"
"Pardon?"
"What was embarrassing, Batbloke?"
"Oh... you remember last night, when we captured the evil villain PoliceCommissionerMan?"
"Holy unforgettable impostors, Batbloke! Sure I remember! He was pretending to be Police Commissioner Ron-Dog, and we had to
drag him down to the Hospital For The Temporarily Stark Raving Mad Insane Mentally
Dysfunctional!"
"Yeah, well, it turns out that PoliceCommissionerMan was, in fact, Police Commissioner Ron-Dog, and not an evil imposter." Batbloke said, the sound of impending
early retirement in his voice.
"Holy eyemasks, Batbloke!" said Bobin in his irritatingly repetitive and keen way, "But he was wearing an eyemask! So he must have
been an evil villain!"
"That wasn't an eyemask. It was his reading glasses."
"Holy deep faeces, Batbloke!" said Bobin, "We're done for!"
Batbloke slumped down in his favourite easy chair and held his face in his hands. It hadn't been a bad life, this superheroing lark.
Okay, so he had originally only agreed to do it because he was drunk, and stuck with it because he thought he might meet a few girls
(that hadn't worked, the closest he'd been to a girl since he took on the job was when Butcherwoman was tying him to her giant bacon
slicer), but he got respect off of the townsfolk. Well, not actual "respect", that would be stretching the definition of the word to
breaking point, it was more like "friendly despair". And he had played a role in keeping people in elaborate and tight costumes off
of the streets, although that incident at the annual Gay Pride Festival was a bit embarrassing. But this was definitely the end of
his superhero career. Capturing the Police Commissioner and throwing him amongst the Criminally Criminal was certainly not going to
win him any brownie points. He started to sob lightly, when suddenly Bobin broke the habit of a lifetime.
"Holy unfamiliar experiences, Batbloke! I have an idea!"
"Oh then that's the end of the world, if you're having ideas." Batbloke said despondently.
"Holy no wait, listen! I really do have an idea!"
"Okay, spit it out." Avoiding any obvious saliva jokes , yet another clich� is used at this point, and we don't get to hear what Bobin's idea
actually is, until we see it being enacted.
"If I recall the layout of this hospital correctly, this window here leads to the foodstores, which won't be in use at this time of night."
He cradled his hands together, and gestured for Bobin to step up onto them and climb through the open window. "Quietly now, you don't want to
be alerting any security guards."
Bobin clambered through the window, and then helped Batbloke climb in. Bobin closed the window, which clicked shut. As expected, they found themselves standing in a very small
cramped compartment in a larger room, the foodstores. They were standing on top of some sort of chair.
"The lights are on," Batbloke whispered, "That's odd. They must have forgotten to turn them off."
"Holy wet tinkling noises, Batbloke!" Bobin said, almost silently, "What's that wet tinkling noise?"
Batbloke cocked his head and listened for a second. "It seems to be coming from the next compartment."
Bobin craned his neck to peer over the wooden partition, and came back red-faced. "There's a young lady sitting on a chair."
"Well, maybe she's a cook, taking a break." Batbloke reasoned. Bobin shook his head, and struggled to get his words out.
"Her pyjamas are around her ankles, I think she's..." he went completely silent and mouthed something to Batbloke. Our Hero's lip reading
skills weren't all that they should have been.
"She's being? Being what?"
"Holy misunderstanding, Batbloke." Bobin whispered, his heart not really in it. In fact, it was in his mouth, and his brain (what there was
of it) had strayed somewhere southwards, and had set up a tent. "Not being, peeing."
"Why is she peeing in the food store?" Batbloke said, confused, "Don't they have toilets here?"
Bobin stared wide-eyed at Batbloke, and Batbloke stared back at Bobin, until finally realisation clicked in his mind. "Oh my god!" he said,
almost loud enough to be heard from more than a foot away, "We're in the ladies' toilets!"
"The window! Quick! Out the window!"
"Holy stupidity on my part, Batbloke!" said Bobin, "I closed it after you came in. It locked on it's own!"
"Oh criminy." said Batbloke, "We'll just have to wait for the room to empty, it can't be too busy at this time of night."
"Holy sickness, Batbloke! These women must be unwell, to be using the toilets so much."
"That's probably why they're in a hospital, Bobin, my keen young stupid sidekick." said Batbloke, and sighed. "How are we going to get out? We can't just
stroll out. We'll have to try and sneak out without being seen."
"Holy commando-style manouevring, Batbloke! We'll have to dart out of the cubicle and hide behind the soap dispensers!"
Batbloke opened the door to the cubicle by the tiniest fraction and peered through the gap. He had a good view of the row of six wash basins, each with it's own
wall-mounted soap dispenser. At each end of the row of basins was a warm air hand dryer, and a roll of towel. At the moment, Batbloke could only see one woman, who was
washing her hands. He waited for her to finish, and then ran silently over to the corner of the toilet room, gesturing for Bobin to stay in the cubicle. From his new
hiding place in the gap between a stand-up locker and the wall, Batbloke could see that all but two of the twelve cubicles had their doors closed, and presumably one
occupant in each. He slipped further into the shadows as one of the toilets flushed, and the door to the fifth cubicle along opened. A woman who he
estimated to be about 46 years of age (although he had very little experience of women, he'd never seen one without make up, so she could in fact be 20), walked slowly over
to the basins, straightening her nightie. He waited for what seemed like an eternity while she washed her hands and dried them. As soon as she had left the room, Batbloke
let out a sigh of relief and gestured for Bobin to come out as well. The boy dunder(head) pushed the cubicle door open by a few more inches, and froze to the spot when it squeaked.
"Holy cacophonies!" he whispered through gritted teeth, and darted forwards, towards Batbloke's hiding place. It was at that moment that the door to the room opened up and another woman
walked in. Bobin took a spur-of-the-moment decision and hurled himself into the plastic ornamental yucca plant that stood against the wall. It swayed perilously as the young hero arranged
the artificial leaves around him.
"Excellent!" he thought to himself as he stepped through the doorway and into the corridor, "I've managed to escape from that hellhole without raising any alarms!" He grinned to himself, proud of his brilliant
plan, and removed the cleaner's uniform and threw it out of a nearby window. "Come on Bobin!" he said, "We have to rescue Commissioner Ron-Dog!"
He ran down the corridor for several minutes before he realised that Bobin was still trapped in the ladies' toilets.
Stark Raving Mad Insane Mentally
Dysfunctional, but thankfully he escapes in time to see the good aliens from the other universe deposit Batbloke in the hospital corridor. Thank you for your patience and suspension
of disbelief, we now return you to the story...
"How did you get out of the ladies' toilets, Bobin?"
"Let's not get into that." said Bobin, "Holy rescue attempts! We have to rescue the commissioner!"
The Fabricated Crusaders ran along the corridor and eventually arrived at the Criminally Stark Raving Mad
Insane Mentally Dysfunctional Criminal ward, where the moon was shining brightly through the tall windows.
"Isn't it amazing how long the nights are in this city?" said Batbloke, staring in a reflective and time-wasting manner out the window, "You would have thought the sun would be up by now,
considering that we were in the toilets for several hours, and I got whisked away to another universe."
"Uh, yeah. Holy there he is, Batbloke! There he is!" Bobin pointed at the bed that Commissioner Ron-Dog was strapped into, slotted between the beds containing the evil villains LawyerMan and
TelemarketerMan. The Commissioner didn't look too pleased with the two heroes.
"He doesn't look too pleased with us." Batbloke commented.
"Mmmfffrmrmmfmfrmrrmrrmffrmrffrr." mumbled the Commissioner. Bobin warily reached across and undid the gag on his mouth. "I'm not too pleased with you two." he (the Commissioner) said.
"Holy uh oh, Batbloke!" said Bobin, "Uh oh!"
"Still, we can laugh it all off, right?" said Batbloke in an incredibly naive manner. "Like we usually do! Right? Somebody help me out here... Please?"
Before Police Commissioner Ron-Dog could leap up out of the bed (which he was strapped into, not forgetting, so in fact he wouldn't be able to leap out anyway), his mobile phone rang. Bobin reached into
the commissioner's pocket and answered it.
"Hello? ...I'm afraid he's a bit tied up at the moment, can I take a message? ...Right...okay....got that...oh I know...right...who?...oh okay."
The Commissioner stared at Bobin, and Bobin stared back. After a few minutes, the Commissioner's rage got the better of him.
"So who was it?"
"Who?"
"On the phone!"
"Oh right, it was the mayor. He said there's been some evil attacks around town, and he needs you to contact Batbloke and that useless sidekick of his." Bobin looked at Batbloke, and Batbloke looked at Bobin.
Bobin carried on looking at Batbloke, and Batbloke carried on looking at Bobin. Bobin shrugged, and Batbloke shrugged. Bobin tweaked his left ear, curled up his nose and hopped on one foot, and Batbloke slapped Bobin
with an old sock.
"Come on, Bobin! There are people out there who need our help! Let's go!!!" And with that, the two Fabricated Crusaders ran out of the hospital and leapt into the Pipistrelle Mobile to fight more crime.
"Shhhh!!!" said one of the other patients, DirtyOldMan, "I'm trying to get some sleep, do you want me to come over there and sort you out?"
"Nurse!!!!!!"
= Well, obviously it was traffic lights. What other type
of red light is there? Back to the innocence... = Useful if rather transparent plot device to bring the reader
up to date on what has happened, without having to write too much. Back to the clich�s... = Or worse. Repent and return! = Another useful and transparent plot device.
Back to the shortcuts...