Alfred looks downright terrified in this panel, and I can't blame him. His arm looks to have totally detached from his body and started fondling Batman's feverish form with a mind of its own. Or maybe Alfred is just a germaphobic nutcase, and he carries around a fake, telescoping arm with which to touch his fellow humans. Or perhaps there's a second butler in this panel. Alfred can see him, but Batman cannot. This mysterious figure exists on a vibrational plane that only manservants can detect. You and I would only notice a faint buzzing sound, and the odor of silver polish. Or -- and I like this explanation the best -- that's Batman's own arm, and he's sweating because he was bitten by a savage were-butler during the last full moon, and now he's transforming into a were-butler himself! Alfred's evenings will be filled with unremitting horror, as Batman and he trade dryly amusing passive-aggressive insults, and tangle over the proper way to launder a cummerbund or prepare a watercress sandwich.
9 comments:
That is the most hilarious paragraph I've read all week.
BUTLER DUEL!
...Proper, by-the-book, dignified BUTLER DUEL!
Such reserved, affably stuffy carnage! It begs for Anton Ego to provide the color commentary.
As for the title, I can't imagine Batman saying his prayers.
"God bless Robin and Nightwing and Alfred and Barbara and Commissioner Gordon and Damian (I guess) and all my friends in the League...and God, thanks again for having my parents get shot down in a filthy, disgusting alley as I watched with my eight-year-old eyes, forcing me to grow up to be a dark, avenging creature of the night with all the social graces of Torgo from Manos: The Hands of Fate. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it. Really"
-Phil
Chance: I'm picturing something like fencing, only with feather dusters.
Chawunky: I wonder what he'll say when Alfred breaks a priceless Chippendale chair over Bruce's head.
Phil: Haw! The Torgo reference is the cherry on top. And now I'm seeing Bruce's trembling paw s-l-o-w-l-y mauling Vicki Vale's cheek.
Agreed on that last: "Th-the Master l-likes you..."
I don't think it's a fever. I think Bruce is succumbing to what is known in some circles as "the vapors"
I always knew that within Batman's sinewy exterior, beat the heart of a petulant Southern belle.
So who's the gentleman caller he's expecting?
-Phil
Why, merely that dashing Mister Al Ghul... of the Savannah Al Ghuls, don't you know.
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