Since we last visited the Goddamn Batman, the cinematic Batmen have (a) quit being Batman and (b) used guns to (c) kill people. Comic readers might see any of those three points as inherently antithetical to the Darknight Detective’s ethos, but they are simply how the character has been interpreted for a modern cinematic context. In the spirit of alternative interpretation, we present our own Goddamn Batman. He is creative, a foodie, and a dance machine. He aspires to be a master chef, and to have his own bakery, from which he will sell 40 cakes.
(I gave up waiting for a usable cowl and made my own, which is why it’s so ugly and polygonny. Sorry.) Anyhow, let’s slap some duds on the poor guy and get him on the road to his lifetime aspiration. Them cakes ain’t gonna cook demselves.
We’ll also go ahead and plonk him down in a house without digging into his pittance of $20k -- it’s no stately Wayne Manor, but it’s a comfortable start. It’s a cozy little habitat from which Goddamn can (a) get a job as a dishwasher (the lowest rung on the culinary job ladder) and (b) start studying cooking, not just to improve his meals, but to up his job performance, as well. Eventually, of his own accord, Goddamn decides to take a swing at his first meal. He hits up the grill... ...and comes away with a plate of perfectly normal hot dogs. So I guess it’s a little hard to eat with that goddamn cowl on. Note also that our friend is a dance machine -- he derives great enjoyment from dancing under any circumstances, even if he has literally no skill in it whatsoever. Repeat: no skill. Whatsoever. “And why doesn’t Batman dance anymore?” asked Adam West. Well.... Eventually Goddamn spends all night of his last night before work dancing, then decides to take in a little TV before bed: His last thought before bed? “Bongos. My God.” >zzzzzz<