Batman’s Journal: Smile!



Batman gets in a lot of fights. Intentionally. He looks for them. Every night.

That kind of obsessive self flagellation would undoubtedly manifest itself in some equally self-involved, self-effacing way. A journal, perhaps. A record of his losses. A reminder of his failures.

This is the alternate version of Batman’s trophy room. This is the record of his wounds:

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

June 18,

Two punks robbing a penthouse on the eastside. One got a hold of a set of golf clubs and managed to hit me in the jaw.

Lost a tooth.

Need to find a replacement before the Wayne Foundation Dinner tomorrow night. Lots of cameras will be there.

Maybe I’ll put out a press release that talks about how Bruce started kickboxing lessons just in case there’s questions.

First I need to see what Alfred can do with a set of fake teeth.

I bent the golf club around the punk’s neck just tight enough to make him wonder if he was going to breath long enough for the cops to find him.


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