There's something the modern Batman never does: perspire.
"But that's absurd," you scoff. "Batman doesn't sweat! He's the rootin'ist, tootin'ist hombre east of the Pecos!" And then I realize that I have my transchronobloggacommunicamator set for "Ye Olde Weste" instead of "2008" (a.k.a. "the Dawn of the Apocalyptic Era") and I adjust its various dials and levers accordingly. There. Can you hear me now?
So as I was saying -- and the older, even-shlubbier comics fans will back me up on this -- Batman did, indeed, previously possess the ability to sweat. But the question remains: why is he sweating? Why here? Why now? If I may float some (kick-ass) theories...
- He's watching a shirtless Robin clean the giant penny with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water.
- He's getting a sensuous foot massage from Dr. Phosphorus.
- He's got "twenty big ones" riding on the Gotham Knights in the big game tonight, but Poison Ivy is dating their star quarterback, and she's always showin' up at games and shit, screwing things up.
- He's quietly riding out, like, his fourteenth consecutive heart attack.
- The lava dome that comprises the floor of the Batcave is cracking open.
- The Joker surreptitiously dosed him with his latest toxin, or, more likely, senile old Alfred undercooked the fucking porkchops again.
"This collar is *really* itchy. But if I take it off, I might make Alfred feel bad about his knitting. I can't do that to him. He puts up with so much from me, like having to clean the guano off the Batmobile. Damn. This is quite the pickle you've gotten yourself into Bruce, quite the pretty pickle indeed."
I don't think he's sweating at all. I think he's fighting some kind of tiny water-themed villain with his eyebrows.
I think this goes back to my comment on the last post. He's obviously wearing a sweater in the middle of summer. You'd think that a billionaire playboy would have people that could help him dress appropriately for the season's crimefighting.
Hell, when Spider-Man got the symbiote for the first time, even he realized that he could use it's abilities to dress cooler in the summer!
Alfred's a practical joker and spiked Bruce's coffee (see the previous panel) with hot pepper sauce. And Bruce is so stoic, he can't bring himself to complain. So he just suffers and sweats in silence.
The answer is in the previous panel. He's got a cup of hot java on his crotch.
While watching Robin clean the penny.
The Robin idea is close, but it's worse than you think.
...That ain't sweat.
He's watching a tiny kitten play on the edge of one of the bottomless chasms that abound in the Batcave and he's really worried for it but can't quite muster the willpower to overcome his horror and go shoo it away.
... which is the first thing that came to mind.
He's sweating 'cuz he willed himself to sweat.
Maybe he's just seeing if he can still do it?
No, I think it is just condensation because he is so much cooler than the rest of the Batcave.
Brilliant ideas, guys!
Phil: Ironically, Alfred really wanted him to take it off.
Justin: I guessing Quisp is involved, somehow.
David: He really should have just done like his old prep school buddies, and tied th' dang thing around his neck. (And then? Racquetball!)
Jim: Plus, on a certain level, he kinda gets off on the challenge of it.
Scipio: A clean, elegant solution. I like it!
Chance: Haw! I shoulda guessed somebody would go there.
Jonathan: That's what we'd get if Chris Ware wrote Detective Comics!
Bill S.: I have the same problem. (In addition to my way too many sweat glands.)
I think his costume is corduroy. Y'know, like Harry and Norman Osbournes' hair.
Bwah! I'd always wondered what their deal was!
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