The caped crusader.


The man scares me senseless.


Truly a nutcase.


And we have another haiku.



He grabbed their faces and slammed them into brick-walls and things of the sort. Blood and guts was all I saw, ladies and gentlemen… blood and guts. Cutting a horribly graphic story short, the damsel was retrieved of her goods and the hooligans found themselves trapped in a dungeon somewhere.


Bat-man, with his eyes fixed on me during the whole process, slowly delved into his car and drove off into the matt blackness of the night. It’s only once in a blue moon where you would find yourself caught up in an occurrence this random. The whole experience was quite

astonishing – didn’t stop me from wetting my pants at all.


I was raised in this estate, a place where you would find many people broken down by the pressures of this life. Me and mine who are pressured by the system often evolve into crackheads, loners,

loopeys and bum bums. The thing about Bruce Wayne is that he isn’t pressured by the system – he’s that Richie Rich type. He probably has shares in all major companies. I could see him having dinner with the

A-list nightly. He owns his own company; he has his own butler. He sits on cash I could never imagine.


With all of that wealth, what makes you want to go out on road dressed up as a bat? Not only does he dress up as a bat, but he drives an automobile sculpted in the shape of a bat too. Bruce is afraid of bats, so as he walks on road, he carries enough fear in himself of himself. Who knows what he is capable of when he catches you in a back ally? What scares me the most is that Bruce is convinced he is a bat. He does not smile; this is not a joke. He has no superpowers, so when he jumps off a building, let’s just hope he has figured a way to land.


But I must say, one thing I admire of the madman is that he means business. Imagine having your parents slaughtered in front of you at a young age. With that trauma running through the back of his mind, he seeks to protect the innocent diligently; scorching his enemies with the emotion suppressed deep inside of him. He breaks the arms of the crooks and rocks the skulls of the wicked. Violently he storms through these streets and floods on villains of the night like a ton of bricks. With every memory of his parents, he is fuelled to claim justice and protect those who are in need. Bat-man has a vision, and the public will do everything in their power to help him see it through.


And that is why no-one likes Robin…


I hardly see Robin. I hardly ever want to see Robin. He’s about my age, my height. He lives in pretence with the shabby costume he blatantly made in textiles class. He says silly things that must irritate Bat-man. I mean, who still says ‘Holy Moley’? Maybe Robin was the only child who applied for an apprenticeship, but I still fail to understand his purpose. When Bat-man is out fighting, Robin is either in the car scared stiff, or out creating sound effects like:





…It’s just annoying.


Imagine being Bat-man. You are driving in your Batmobile down the grimy streets of North-West London. As you brush through the misty paths, you can feel a storm brewing. You look to your left and you see mere silhouettes posted on the walls. You look to your right and see a goofy teenager in your car with yellow and red swimwear. It’s a spoil in the masterpiece.


Robin stands for the very thing we keep to our side but has no purpose, this may be friends, places, or even attitudes. No matter who we were before, as long as we have Robin by our side we will always be carrying dead weight. And plus, being seen with a Robin is never a good look. So we remove the Robin from our lives dear readers, we just hope Bat-man removes his.



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