Brother Blood smiled, and hissed at Bruce. Bruce stepped backwards, nervously.
“You will be our next sacrifice,” Brother Blood smiled.
“I’ll pass,” Bruce said. He rushed at Brother Blood, but Blood simply snapped. Golden ribbons of energy shot out from his fingers, and blasted Bruce across the church, into the large front doors. Bruce groaned, and pushed himself up. He wobbled unevenly, and his vision faded in and out of focus. Brother Blood thrust his palms down, and propelled himself across the church. He landed next to Bruce, and kicked out his knees. Bruce collapsed. Brother Blood put a finger under Bruce’s chin, and lifted his head.
“You don’t have a choice,” Brother Blood said.
Suddenly, gunshots rang throughout the church. The man who Bruce had seen sitting on a porch upon entering the town stood in the crumbled entry way, holding an old pistol. Smoke was billowing from the chamber. Bruce turned his head and saw blood gushing out from Brother Blood’s side. His grip on Bruce loosened, and Bruce tore away. He stumbled over to the man with the pistol.
“Tak,” Bruce said, thanking the man. The man smiled through his large gray beard.
“Selv tak,” the man grunted, “Den mand tong min datter.”
Bruce didn’t precisely translate, but he figured that the man had said something about Brother Blood taking his daughter. Probably one of the children Bruce had freed.
“Now let’s take Brother Blood down,” Bruce said, gritting his teeth. The man just looked at him, not understanding what he had said. Bruce grabbed a large piece of wood, and charged at Brother Blood, who was crumpled over on the floor.
“Angreb!” Brother Blood ordered while hunched over. Immediately, all the members of the church stood, and converged on Bruce. Bruce saw their pale eyes, and realized that they weren’t here of their own free will. They were being mind-controlled. And then he saw a faint black line connecting their chests to the black pillar in front of the altar. The words “Helmets Søjle” were carved into the pillar. Pillar of Hel. Bruce pushed through the crowd, and headed towards the pillar rather than Brother Blood. He was reassured that the pillar was vital when he saw Brother Blood’s eyes widen in fear.
“Solomon Grundy! Jeg inkalder dig!” Brother Blood cried out. The pillar began to shake, and Bruce froze. The crowd of mind-controlled worshippers dragged him into their midst, and beat on him relentlessly. Smoke poured out of the pillar, and coated the ground. The bearded man with the pistol tried to pry his way into the crowd to rescue to Bruce, but was unsuccessful. The crowd just sucked him in, and started to batter him. The ground began to rumble, and Bruce kicked his way back out of the crowd. He stumbled over to the altar, and collapsed. He saw the crowd preying on the bearded man, and got back to his feet, ready to head back in. Before he could jump in and fight to save the man, the ground split open. A massive man with a mop of white hair sprang out from below, and roared at Bruce.
“Who wake Solomon Grundy?” the man growled.
“He did!” Brother Blood screeched, pointing at Bruce.
“You wake Solomon Grundy?” the brute asked.
“Uh, no…” Bruce said.
“Solomon Grundy sleepy! Solomon Grundy no like wake up!” the brute, presumably named Solomon Grundy, roared. He lunged at bruce, snatching him up in one hand. Bruce squeezed his eyes shut as a burst of air hit his face. It was Solomon’s Grundy putrid breath. Bruce shuddered, and wriggled. Solomon Grundy squeezed tighter, and laughed.
“This is what you get when you wakey Mister Grundy!” Solomon Grundy said, gleefully.
“Yes, yes! Yes my pet!” Brother Blood smiled.
“I not your pet,” Solomon Grundy growled.
“Right, right. Yes of course,” Brother Blood nodded.
“Bow to Solomon Grundy!” Solomon Grundy thundered.
“Bah! You bow to me!” Brother Blood spat. Solomon Grundy stomped over to Brother Blood, and picked him up in his other hand.
“Bow,” Solomon Grundy grunted.
Brother Blood grit his teeth, and closed his eyes. Golden energy shot out from him, and Solomon Grundy dropped both him and Bruce.
Bruce scrambled over to Brother Blood, and wrapped an arm around his throat.
“Hey Grundy! I’ll bow to you!” Bruce called, “But this man won’t! He won’t worship you. What a naughty boy!”
“Heh… Naughty boy…” Solomon Grundy nodded, walking over to Bruce and Brother Blood.
“Get… off… me…” Brother Blood said, struggling for breath.
“No problem,” Bruce nodded, springing off of Brother Blood, and into the crowd of people attacking the bearded man. Brother Blood was sent tumbling forward, and Solomon Grundy snatched him up. He lifted him to his mouth, and took a big bite. Blood shot out from Brother Blood’s neck, and covered the marble floors. Bruce tried not to look.
“He no taste good,” Solomon Grundy whined. Bruce noticed that the crowd hadn’t stopped attacking, even though Brother Blood was dead. Brother Blood wasn’t the one controlling them.
“Well, that’s a bummer,” Bruce said while fending off attackers, “I bet that black pillar would taste lots better. I bet it’s got a nice crunch to it.”
Solomon Grundy contemplated this, then nodded. He dropped Brother Blood’s decapitated body, and wandered over to the pillar. He yanked it up from the ground, and brought his teeth down on it with incredible force. The pillar shattered, and the crowd immediately went limp. Bruce turned to see if the bearded man was okay. But there wasn’t much left of him. His left arm had been torn off, and part of his face was missing. There were large chunks taken out of his chest, and his right foot was gone.
“Did we do it?” the man rasped.
“Yeah,” Bruce nodded, “Yeah we did. No one is taking any more children. We stopped them.”
The man smiled, and closed his eyes. Then, Solomon Grundy snatched him up, and tossed him down his throat.
“Yummy yummy yummy!” Solomon Grundy cheered, “Thank you mask man for getting me all of this good food!”
Bruce clenched his jaw, and forced a smile.
“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “Any time.”
“Hey!” a voice called out. Bruce looked around, searching for the source. It was coming from behind the altar. Bruce rushed over, and found a door that blended in perfectly with the wall.
“Is it over out there?” the voice asked.
“Yes! Who is this?” Bruce asked.
“Can you let us out first and ask questions later?” the voice asked.
“Stand back,” Bruce ordered. Then, he kicked down the door. Behind the broken door were two men. One man had long blond locks, and a bushy blond beard. The other had jet black hair that had grown out a bit, and stubble on his chin. He had an eyepatch over his right eye.
“Thanks for the save,” the man with the blond hair said. He was the one who had called out.
“This is better than where I’m headed back to,” the black haired man scoffed.
“You’re the A.R.G.U.S. agent?” Bruce guessed.
“Well look at who knows his top secret agencies,” the black haired man mocked.
“Hey, why don’t we just thank the nice mask man and get the hell out of this church?” the blond haired man suggested.
“I told you. This church is better than A.R.G.U.S.”
“Oh suck it up Floyd!” the blond haired man yelled.
“You aren’t locked up there genius!” the black haired man, Floyd, shot back, “Try being contained in a tiny cell with almost no contact with anyone else. Then the one woman who visits kicks your ass!”
“Amanda?” Bruce asked.
“You’ve met her?” Floyd grunted.
“Yeah. She actually kidnapped me,” Bruce nodded.
“Yep. That’s her.”
“So who are you?” Bruce asked the blond haired man.
“I’ll tell you after we escape that thing,” the blond haired man said, shakily pointing above Bruce. Bruce turned around and saw Solomon Grundy standing menacingly over him. A massive drop of drool landed on Bruce’s face.
“New treats?” Solomon Grundy asked.
“Hell no hotshot,” Floyd said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I would prefer not to be eaten,” the blond haired man agreed.
“Solomon Grundy, I thought you were tired. Maybe you should go back to bed. And when you wake back up, you can have another snack,” Bruce said.
“But Solomon Grundy hungry now! Solomon Grundy no sleep.”
“Grundy. Go. To. Sleep,” Bruce ordered.
“Maybe Solomon Grundy eat you instead,” Solomon Grundy pouted.
“Fine with me,” Floyd shrugged.
“Now let’s not rush to conclusions Grundy,” Bruce laughed, nervously.
“Just don’t eat me, alright pal?” Floyd said.
“Solomon Grundy eat you if Solomon Grundy wants,” Solomon Grundy huffed.
“Whatever you say,” Floyd smirked.
Solomon Grundy picked up Floyd by his ratty black shirt, and roared in his face. Floyd didn’t even flinch.
“You don’t scare me, freak,” Floyd smiled.
“You call Solomon Grundy a freak?” Solomon Grundy cried out, bringing Floyd closer to his mouth.
“Whoa! Calm down Grundy! And Floyd, apologize,” Bruce said.
“No chance,” Floyd said, shaking his head.
“Floyd, get your head out of your ass,” Bruce growled, “And apologize.”
“Listen to the masked man,” the blond haired man nodded, “Or get eaten by Solomon Grundy.”
“I’m sorry,” Floyd said, sarcastically. Solomon Grundy smiled.
“That’s better,” Bruce sighed, relieved.
“Sorry for being truthful,” Floyd added with a sly smile.
“Dammit Floyd!” the blond haired man called out, exasperated.
“Why you sorry for truth?” Solomon Grundy asked, scratching his chin, “Truth good. So why apologize…?”
“Are you seriously this stupid?” Floyd laughed.
“Why you call Solomon Grundy stupid?” Solomon Grundy said, sticking his lower lip out.
“Because it’s the truth, dipshit,” Floyd said.
“That’s it!” Solomon Grundy growled, squeezing Floyd. He wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Do you have a death wish Floyd?” Bruce asked.
“This brute isn’t going to eat me,” Floyd said, “He doesn’t have the guts.”
Floyd stared Solomon Grundy in the eye. Then Solomon Grundy tossed him into his mouth. Floyd’s confident, snarky look was replaced with one of terror. He shrieked, and flailed wildly as he slid into Solomon Grundy’s mouth. Bruce charged at Solomon Grundy. As much as he already didn’t like Floyd, it was his mission to save him. He jumped on Solomon Grundy’s leg, and scrambled up the monster’s body. Solomon Grundy tried to swat him away, but Bruce dodged his attacks. Bruce glanced down to see the blond haired man take off his battered brown boot, and reach inside. He pulled out a small, pale capsule, and tossed it into his mouth. His veins shimmered, and his eyes lost their natural color. He jumped on Solomon Grundy’s leg as well, and shot up the beast quicker than Bruce ever could.
“What the hell?” Bruce asked out loud. The blond haired man swung up to Solomon Grundy’s chin, and yanked open his mouth. Floyd was spread out, hanging on to the side of Solomon Grundy’s mouth. Solomon Grundy inhaled sharply, and Floyd was yanked down his throat. The blond haired man jumped off of Solomon Grundy’s lip, and extended his right leg. His foot struck Solomon’s massive gray uvula, and Solomon Grundy retched. He keeled over, and vomit shot out of his mouth. Floyd came out with it, covered in the gray goop. The blond haired man pulled him out of the pool of vomit, and Bruce ran over.
“Who are you?” Bruce asked.
“Rex Tyler. Formerly known as the Hourman,” the blond haired man said.
“You mean the Hourman?” Bruce asked.
“The one and only,” Rex nodded, “Now let’s finish this.”
“I still can’t believe I’m fighting alongside the Hourman,” Bruce smiled.
“Keep this saving streak up, and people will start being amazed at fighting alongside you,” Rex said.
“I’ve got a feeling some people already think that,” Bruce said.
“Don’t get a big head mask man,” Rex said.
“Call me Batman,” Bruce said, then rushed at Solomon Grundy.
“Batman?” Rex asked, amazed. Then he ran after Bruce.
Together, they battled a weakened Solomon Grundy. They struck him wherever he wasn’t prepared to intercept the hit. After a few minutes, Solomon Grundy was reduced to a wailing child.
“Do you surrender?” Rex asked.
“Solomon Grundy… surrender…”
“Now you can go back to sleep Grundy,” Bruce said, patting Solomon Grundy’s head. Solomon Grundy crawled back into the hole that he had come from. He pulled rubble back on top of him.
“So are you really the Batman?” Rex asked.
“The one and only,” Bruce nodded, sticking his fingers up against his head to act as bat ears.
“Where’s your suit?” Rex inquired.
“Back in Gotham,” Bruce admitted, “Amanda Waller insisted I came out of costume.”
“So now you’re taking me back to her?” Floyd asked, standing up.
“Correct. Well, actually, there’s a part two to this mission,” Bruce said.
“Oh wonderful,” Floyd sighed, “What is it Batman?”
“Apparently, the Church of Blood was manufacturing drugs. We’re supposed to shut down their operation. But, I don’t see any drugs.”
“That’s because the drugs aren’t here. They left on a plane for Brazil a few hours before you arrived,” Rex said.
“What? How do you know?” Bruce asked.
“Because we helped make them,” Floyd said.
“Why would you do something like that?” Bruce shouted.
“We had to, genius,” Floyd said, “Because we wanted to, I don’t know, not die.”
“What were the drugs?”
“Venom,” Rex sighed.
“Venom?” Bruce asked.
“An altered version of the Miraclo drug I used to be Hourman,” Rex explained, “It has an extended time period. Twelve hours. Who knows what the buyer could do with such a large supply.”
“Who is the buyer?” Bruce asked.
“We’re not sure,” Rex admitted, “Someone who needs a lot of Venom. Possibly a drug lord.”
“We need to stop that flight,” Bruce said.
“It’d be impossible to catch,” Floyd said, “Think about it. The plane left three, maybe four hours ago. There are no planes that can catch it. Not here.”
“We need to contact Amanda. She can have a jet catch the place off the coast.”
“There’s a phone here in the church,” Rex said, jogging over to a beige telephone, “What’s her number?”
“Uh…”
“Try (202) 456-1111,” Floyd suggested, “The White House. Then tell the person that you need to talk to President Trump about, hell I don’t know. His next hooker.”
“So you’re a fan of his?” Bruce smirked.
“What do you think?” Floyd asked, “Anyhow, when you have Trump on the line, tell him that you need to reach Advanced Research Group Uniting Super-Humans. A.R.G.U.S.”
Rex nodded, and punched in the number. A squeaky voice answered.
“You have reached the White House. How can I help you?”
“I need to talk to President Trump about, erm…” Rex stalled.
“His next hooker,” Floyd prompted. Rex shook his head.
“Hurricane Nate,” Rex stated, “You see, I’m worried. I’m visiting Mobile from Greenland, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Evacuate,” the man said, “Have a good day.”
“Dammit, that was bad excuse. Look, just put me on the line with Trump. Right now. I’m the pimp he’s been talking to.”
“Darryl?” the man whispered.
“The one and only,” Rex nodded.
“I’ll put you on.”
“Told you,” Floyd smirked.
“Darryl, I told you already,” came Trump’s voice, “I want Sarah.”
“About that Mister President,” Rex said, “I’m not Darryl.”
“What?” Trump pouted.
“I need to talk to Amanda Waller of the Advanced Research Group Uniting Super-Humans. A.R.G.U.S.”
“What’s that?” Trump asked, clueless.
“Oh no…”
“You will be our next sacrifice,” Brother Blood smiled.
“I’ll pass,” Bruce said. He rushed at Brother Blood, but Blood simply snapped. Golden ribbons of energy shot out from his fingers, and blasted Bruce across the church, into the large front doors. Bruce groaned, and pushed himself up. He wobbled unevenly, and his vision faded in and out of focus. Brother Blood thrust his palms down, and propelled himself across the church. He landed next to Bruce, and kicked out his knees. Bruce collapsed. Brother Blood put a finger under Bruce’s chin, and lifted his head.
“You don’t have a choice,” Brother Blood said.
Suddenly, gunshots rang throughout the church. The man who Bruce had seen sitting on a porch upon entering the town stood in the crumbled entry way, holding an old pistol. Smoke was billowing from the chamber. Bruce turned his head and saw blood gushing out from Brother Blood’s side. His grip on Bruce loosened, and Bruce tore away. He stumbled over to the man with the pistol.
“Tak,” Bruce said, thanking the man. The man smiled through his large gray beard.
“Selv tak,” the man grunted, “Den mand tong min datter.”
Bruce didn’t precisely translate, but he figured that the man had said something about Brother Blood taking his daughter. Probably one of the children Bruce had freed.
“Now let’s take Brother Blood down,” Bruce said, gritting his teeth. The man just looked at him, not understanding what he had said. Bruce grabbed a large piece of wood, and charged at Brother Blood, who was crumpled over on the floor.
“Angreb!” Brother Blood ordered while hunched over. Immediately, all the members of the church stood, and converged on Bruce. Bruce saw their pale eyes, and realized that they weren’t here of their own free will. They were being mind-controlled. And then he saw a faint black line connecting their chests to the black pillar in front of the altar. The words “Helmets Søjle” were carved into the pillar. Pillar of Hel. Bruce pushed through the crowd, and headed towards the pillar rather than Brother Blood. He was reassured that the pillar was vital when he saw Brother Blood’s eyes widen in fear.
“Solomon Grundy! Jeg inkalder dig!” Brother Blood cried out. The pillar began to shake, and Bruce froze. The crowd of mind-controlled worshippers dragged him into their midst, and beat on him relentlessly. Smoke poured out of the pillar, and coated the ground. The bearded man with the pistol tried to pry his way into the crowd to rescue to Bruce, but was unsuccessful. The crowd just sucked him in, and started to batter him. The ground began to rumble, and Bruce kicked his way back out of the crowd. He stumbled over to the altar, and collapsed. He saw the crowd preying on the bearded man, and got back to his feet, ready to head back in. Before he could jump in and fight to save the man, the ground split open. A massive man with a mop of white hair sprang out from below, and roared at Bruce.
“Who wake Solomon Grundy?” the man growled.
“He did!” Brother Blood screeched, pointing at Bruce.
“You wake Solomon Grundy?” the brute asked.
“Uh, no…” Bruce said.
“Solomon Grundy sleepy! Solomon Grundy no like wake up!” the brute, presumably named Solomon Grundy, roared. He lunged at bruce, snatching him up in one hand. Bruce squeezed his eyes shut as a burst of air hit his face. It was Solomon’s Grundy putrid breath. Bruce shuddered, and wriggled. Solomon Grundy squeezed tighter, and laughed.
“This is what you get when you wakey Mister Grundy!” Solomon Grundy said, gleefully.
“Yes, yes! Yes my pet!” Brother Blood smiled.
“I not your pet,” Solomon Grundy growled.
“Right, right. Yes of course,” Brother Blood nodded.
“Bow to Solomon Grundy!” Solomon Grundy thundered.
“Bah! You bow to me!” Brother Blood spat. Solomon Grundy stomped over to Brother Blood, and picked him up in his other hand.
“Bow,” Solomon Grundy grunted.
Brother Blood grit his teeth, and closed his eyes. Golden energy shot out from him, and Solomon Grundy dropped both him and Bruce.
Bruce scrambled over to Brother Blood, and wrapped an arm around his throat.
“Hey Grundy! I’ll bow to you!” Bruce called, “But this man won’t! He won’t worship you. What a naughty boy!”
“Heh… Naughty boy…” Solomon Grundy nodded, walking over to Bruce and Brother Blood.
“Get… off… me…” Brother Blood said, struggling for breath.
“No problem,” Bruce nodded, springing off of Brother Blood, and into the crowd of people attacking the bearded man. Brother Blood was sent tumbling forward, and Solomon Grundy snatched him up. He lifted him to his mouth, and took a big bite. Blood shot out from Brother Blood’s neck, and covered the marble floors. Bruce tried not to look.
“He no taste good,” Solomon Grundy whined. Bruce noticed that the crowd hadn’t stopped attacking, even though Brother Blood was dead. Brother Blood wasn’t the one controlling them.
“Well, that’s a bummer,” Bruce said while fending off attackers, “I bet that black pillar would taste lots better. I bet it’s got a nice crunch to it.”
Solomon Grundy contemplated this, then nodded. He dropped Brother Blood’s decapitated body, and wandered over to the pillar. He yanked it up from the ground, and brought his teeth down on it with incredible force. The pillar shattered, and the crowd immediately went limp. Bruce turned to see if the bearded man was okay. But there wasn’t much left of him. His left arm had been torn off, and part of his face was missing. There were large chunks taken out of his chest, and his right foot was gone.
“Did we do it?” the man rasped.
“Yeah,” Bruce nodded, “Yeah we did. No one is taking any more children. We stopped them.”
The man smiled, and closed his eyes. Then, Solomon Grundy snatched him up, and tossed him down his throat.
“Yummy yummy yummy!” Solomon Grundy cheered, “Thank you mask man for getting me all of this good food!”
Bruce clenched his jaw, and forced a smile.
“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “Any time.”
“Hey!” a voice called out. Bruce looked around, searching for the source. It was coming from behind the altar. Bruce rushed over, and found a door that blended in perfectly with the wall.
“Is it over out there?” the voice asked.
“Yes! Who is this?” Bruce asked.
“Can you let us out first and ask questions later?” the voice asked.
“Stand back,” Bruce ordered. Then, he kicked down the door. Behind the broken door were two men. One man had long blond locks, and a bushy blond beard. The other had jet black hair that had grown out a bit, and stubble on his chin. He had an eyepatch over his right eye.
“Thanks for the save,” the man with the blond hair said. He was the one who had called out.
“This is better than where I’m headed back to,” the black haired man scoffed.
“You’re the A.R.G.U.S. agent?” Bruce guessed.
“Well look at who knows his top secret agencies,” the black haired man mocked.
“Hey, why don’t we just thank the nice mask man and get the hell out of this church?” the blond haired man suggested.
“I told you. This church is better than A.R.G.U.S.”
“Oh suck it up Floyd!” the blond haired man yelled.
“You aren’t locked up there genius!” the black haired man, Floyd, shot back, “Try being contained in a tiny cell with almost no contact with anyone else. Then the one woman who visits kicks your ass!”
“Amanda?” Bruce asked.
“You’ve met her?” Floyd grunted.
“Yeah. She actually kidnapped me,” Bruce nodded.
“Yep. That’s her.”
“So who are you?” Bruce asked the blond haired man.
“I’ll tell you after we escape that thing,” the blond haired man said, shakily pointing above Bruce. Bruce turned around and saw Solomon Grundy standing menacingly over him. A massive drop of drool landed on Bruce’s face.
“New treats?” Solomon Grundy asked.
“Hell no hotshot,” Floyd said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I would prefer not to be eaten,” the blond haired man agreed.
“Solomon Grundy, I thought you were tired. Maybe you should go back to bed. And when you wake back up, you can have another snack,” Bruce said.
“But Solomon Grundy hungry now! Solomon Grundy no sleep.”
“Grundy. Go. To. Sleep,” Bruce ordered.
“Maybe Solomon Grundy eat you instead,” Solomon Grundy pouted.
“Fine with me,” Floyd shrugged.
“Now let’s not rush to conclusions Grundy,” Bruce laughed, nervously.
“Just don’t eat me, alright pal?” Floyd said.
“Solomon Grundy eat you if Solomon Grundy wants,” Solomon Grundy huffed.
“Whatever you say,” Floyd smirked.
Solomon Grundy picked up Floyd by his ratty black shirt, and roared in his face. Floyd didn’t even flinch.
“You don’t scare me, freak,” Floyd smiled.
“You call Solomon Grundy a freak?” Solomon Grundy cried out, bringing Floyd closer to his mouth.
“Whoa! Calm down Grundy! And Floyd, apologize,” Bruce said.
“No chance,” Floyd said, shaking his head.
“Floyd, get your head out of your ass,” Bruce growled, “And apologize.”
“Listen to the masked man,” the blond haired man nodded, “Or get eaten by Solomon Grundy.”
“I’m sorry,” Floyd said, sarcastically. Solomon Grundy smiled.
“That’s better,” Bruce sighed, relieved.
“Sorry for being truthful,” Floyd added with a sly smile.
“Dammit Floyd!” the blond haired man called out, exasperated.
“Why you sorry for truth?” Solomon Grundy asked, scratching his chin, “Truth good. So why apologize…?”
“Are you seriously this stupid?” Floyd laughed.
“Why you call Solomon Grundy stupid?” Solomon Grundy said, sticking his lower lip out.
“Because it’s the truth, dipshit,” Floyd said.
“That’s it!” Solomon Grundy growled, squeezing Floyd. He wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Do you have a death wish Floyd?” Bruce asked.
“This brute isn’t going to eat me,” Floyd said, “He doesn’t have the guts.”
Floyd stared Solomon Grundy in the eye. Then Solomon Grundy tossed him into his mouth. Floyd’s confident, snarky look was replaced with one of terror. He shrieked, and flailed wildly as he slid into Solomon Grundy’s mouth. Bruce charged at Solomon Grundy. As much as he already didn’t like Floyd, it was his mission to save him. He jumped on Solomon Grundy’s leg, and scrambled up the monster’s body. Solomon Grundy tried to swat him away, but Bruce dodged his attacks. Bruce glanced down to see the blond haired man take off his battered brown boot, and reach inside. He pulled out a small, pale capsule, and tossed it into his mouth. His veins shimmered, and his eyes lost their natural color. He jumped on Solomon Grundy’s leg as well, and shot up the beast quicker than Bruce ever could.
“What the hell?” Bruce asked out loud. The blond haired man swung up to Solomon Grundy’s chin, and yanked open his mouth. Floyd was spread out, hanging on to the side of Solomon Grundy’s mouth. Solomon Grundy inhaled sharply, and Floyd was yanked down his throat. The blond haired man jumped off of Solomon Grundy’s lip, and extended his right leg. His foot struck Solomon’s massive gray uvula, and Solomon Grundy retched. He keeled over, and vomit shot out of his mouth. Floyd came out with it, covered in the gray goop. The blond haired man pulled him out of the pool of vomit, and Bruce ran over.
“Who are you?” Bruce asked.
“Rex Tyler. Formerly known as the Hourman,” the blond haired man said.
“You mean the Hourman?” Bruce asked.
“The one and only,” Rex nodded, “Now let’s finish this.”
“I still can’t believe I’m fighting alongside the Hourman,” Bruce smiled.
“Keep this saving streak up, and people will start being amazed at fighting alongside you,” Rex said.
“I’ve got a feeling some people already think that,” Bruce said.
“Don’t get a big head mask man,” Rex said.
“Call me Batman,” Bruce said, then rushed at Solomon Grundy.
“Batman?” Rex asked, amazed. Then he ran after Bruce.
Together, they battled a weakened Solomon Grundy. They struck him wherever he wasn’t prepared to intercept the hit. After a few minutes, Solomon Grundy was reduced to a wailing child.
“Do you surrender?” Rex asked.
“Solomon Grundy… surrender…”
“Now you can go back to sleep Grundy,” Bruce said, patting Solomon Grundy’s head. Solomon Grundy crawled back into the hole that he had come from. He pulled rubble back on top of him.
“So are you really the Batman?” Rex asked.
“The one and only,” Bruce nodded, sticking his fingers up against his head to act as bat ears.
“Where’s your suit?” Rex inquired.
“Back in Gotham,” Bruce admitted, “Amanda Waller insisted I came out of costume.”
“So now you’re taking me back to her?” Floyd asked, standing up.
“Correct. Well, actually, there’s a part two to this mission,” Bruce said.
“Oh wonderful,” Floyd sighed, “What is it Batman?”
“Apparently, the Church of Blood was manufacturing drugs. We’re supposed to shut down their operation. But, I don’t see any drugs.”
“That’s because the drugs aren’t here. They left on a plane for Brazil a few hours before you arrived,” Rex said.
“What? How do you know?” Bruce asked.
“Because we helped make them,” Floyd said.
“Why would you do something like that?” Bruce shouted.
“We had to, genius,” Floyd said, “Because we wanted to, I don’t know, not die.”
“What were the drugs?”
“Venom,” Rex sighed.
“Venom?” Bruce asked.
“An altered version of the Miraclo drug I used to be Hourman,” Rex explained, “It has an extended time period. Twelve hours. Who knows what the buyer could do with such a large supply.”
“Who is the buyer?” Bruce asked.
“We’re not sure,” Rex admitted, “Someone who needs a lot of Venom. Possibly a drug lord.”
“We need to stop that flight,” Bruce said.
“It’d be impossible to catch,” Floyd said, “Think about it. The plane left three, maybe four hours ago. There are no planes that can catch it. Not here.”
“We need to contact Amanda. She can have a jet catch the place off the coast.”
“There’s a phone here in the church,” Rex said, jogging over to a beige telephone, “What’s her number?”
“Uh…”
“Try (202) 456-1111,” Floyd suggested, “The White House. Then tell the person that you need to talk to President Trump about, hell I don’t know. His next hooker.”
“So you’re a fan of his?” Bruce smirked.
“What do you think?” Floyd asked, “Anyhow, when you have Trump on the line, tell him that you need to reach Advanced Research Group Uniting Super-Humans. A.R.G.U.S.”
Rex nodded, and punched in the number. A squeaky voice answered.
“You have reached the White House. How can I help you?”
“I need to talk to President Trump about, erm…” Rex stalled.
“His next hooker,” Floyd prompted. Rex shook his head.
“Hurricane Nate,” Rex stated, “You see, I’m worried. I’m visiting Mobile from Greenland, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Evacuate,” the man said, “Have a good day.”
“Dammit, that was bad excuse. Look, just put me on the line with Trump. Right now. I’m the pimp he’s been talking to.”
“Darryl?” the man whispered.
“The one and only,” Rex nodded.
“I’ll put you on.”
“Told you,” Floyd smirked.
“Darryl, I told you already,” came Trump’s voice, “I want Sarah.”
“About that Mister President,” Rex said, “I’m not Darryl.”
“What?” Trump pouted.
“I need to talk to Amanda Waller of the Advanced Research Group Uniting Super-Humans. A.R.G.U.S.”
“What’s that?” Trump asked, clueless.
“Oh no…”