It was a hot mid-August Friday. Wayne had just gotten off work and was driving to the Mancave for the weekend. It was getting dark out. His scanner picked up a bank robbery in progress not far from his current location. "Lets do this" he exclaimed out loud as he programmed his GPS with the address of the bank. He was about 3 minutes from the location.
His nose was running, which was pretty much normal for this time of the year. After searching through his glove compartment he found 2 Benadryl tablets. He washed them down with some piss warm water from a bottle that he found rolling around the floor of the Manbatmobile LTD 2.0.
Wayne recently purchased a Glock 9mm pistol from some redneck off of craigslist. He made a special holster for it on his utility belt. It hung right next to his grappling hook. Like most things Wayne bought to use for fighting crime, he had to customize it and make it all sweet. He carefully hand painted all the trim yellow so it would match the yellow and black of his suit.
When he bought the paint to detail it with he accidently bought reflective paint. He didn't realize it until he got home and he was too lazy to take it back and exchange it for normal paint. So he just painted the gun.
As he rolled up to the bank he noticed there were no lights on. This was some serious shit, these guys had cut the power to the building! That was okay because the night belonged to The Manbat! He would be totally in his element.
Whirling the grappling hook at his side (he still hadn't made a grappling hook gun yet), he judged this throw. Bingo. First time, and with little noise. Wayne began to scale the building. He started thinking about how awesome this bust was going to be. When he got to the roof he had to calm himself so he could focus on getting into the building.
Just out of sheer dumb luck the roof access door had been left unlocked. After changing into his suit on the roof, The Manbat strolled right in and made hardly a sound in the new ninja boots he had acquired from a shop at the mall. They were expensive, but price was no object when procuring sweet gear. He had them on layaway for like 3 months and had picked them up just this week. This was his first actual mission in them. They felt like a second skin!
Wayne started down the hall with his Glock drawn. He walked out into a hallway that was a balcony around the main bank. By his account he was on the 3rd floor. He could see the men with flashlights below him. They had some hostages. "Too bad the fucking grappling hook is on the roof" he mumbled under his breath.
Then he got a great idea.
"Prepare to die scum" Wayne yelled as he jumped from the 3rd floor railing. He had the ends of his cape grasped in both hands to act as a parachute on his way down. It didn't slow his decent at all. The Manbat crashed to the floor with enough force to instantly break his ankle. He luckily rolled forward as he landed and came up next to a pillar, favoring his right leg.
While he was thinking of his next move and silently (as he could) cursed himself for such a stupid idea, he drew his gun and held it up, pointed at the ceiling, next to his head. The bad guys were sweeping the room with their flashlights. That was okay though because he was dressed in black, they wouldn't see him even if they shined the light directly on him.
Except for the fact that his gun was detailed with reflective paint, so he stuck out like a sore thumb.
Forgetting momentarily about the broken ankle (thanks Benadryl) he took a step towards the guy holding the flashlight on him. Immediately he buckled from the broken ankle. The shock of the pain made him reflexively pull the trigger of his Glock, which missed the robber completely and struck a bank teller in the throat.
Wayne tried to stagger step to keep his balance and ran face first into the bank counter, knocking his front teeth out.
There he was, lying on the floor with a broken ankle and no front teeth. The lead robber walked up and kicked the gun out of his hand. He said something to Wayne, but what Wayne could not discern through the pain and the Benadryl haze. The last thing he felt was a cold cylinder pressing against his forehead.
The paper the next day had an article about the robbery. The suspects were never caught, except for one; a strange man wearing a bat costume. There was an interview in the article with the policeman that was on the scene and he described it as "bizarre" and "disturbing". They found the gun that was used to shoot and kill the bank teller, a black and yellow Glock, but they were unsure why the bat robber was laying dead with a bullet to the forehead, no front teeth, and a broken ankle.
One of the bank tellers was interviewed and said that he thought the "guy in the bat costume was trying to save us". Psychiatric doctors said the man was suffering from PTSD from the ordeal and he was manufacturing the whole thing in his head. The cops said that the bat robber was likely the leader and was killed so the rest of the group could have a bigger share of the loot.
The last line of the interview with the police officer said the following; "If this (bat) guy was trying to be a hero, he failed miserably".
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