Bat and Switch

Bruce removes the cowl. “I give up, Alfred. Batman is dead.”

Alfred’s voice carries from across the Bat-Cave. “But Master Wayne, you’ve never been one to quit. Gotham needs you!”

“I can’t do it anymore.” Bruce walks to the Bat-Computer and slumps in his chair. “The cost is too great.”

“There is no good in this world without sacrifices, Master Wayne—both physical and mental. Your father knew that.”

“It’s not that, Alfred.” Bruce sighs, dragging a calloused hand across his weary face. “I just can’t keep beating women.”

“Beating women, sir?”

“Freeze is a woman. Penguin is a woman. Every last supervillain in Gotham now shops at Victoria Secret.” Bruce tosses up his hands. “Even the common thug wears a brassiere!”

“I see. Well, even so, crime is crime…”

“Selena looks at me like I’m some kind of monster, when she’s not seething with jealousy. And when I fought The Jokeress at the chemical plant last week, she wouldn’t stop laughing!”

“The Joker always laughed, sir…”

“Yeah, but back then it didn’t make me harder than Solomon Grundy.”

“Oh my.”

“Also now a woman! And reporters act like I’m the problem, like it’s my fault when Lady Bane knocks over a bank. Hell, do you know what Commissioner Gordon told the Bugle today?”

“I don’t, sir.”

“‘Batman’s presence cultivates a climate of misogyny.’ Can you believe Kent let them write that?” Bruce slumps his head on the table. “It’s over.”

“Take heart, Master Wayne.” Alfred crosses he Bat-Cave and lays a tender hand on his shoulder. “We’ve endured worst than this.”

Bruce turns and looks up at Alfred, who now has flowing alabaster locks with an ample bust to match.

“If only I had stopped Braniac from activating the Photon Flux Feminizer,” Bruce laments. “None of this would have happened.”

“There, there, Master Bruce.” Alfred takes him in both arms, nestling her master’s head in her plush, soothing bosom. “There, there.” Ω