THE SHART LIVES

LOBO -Predator Press

"I'm not exactly certain why I'm here," I admit to Mr. Wayne.  "Shit I didn't even know this room existed before now.  You Human Resources people really go 'all out.'"

Wayne eyes me over a stack of documents.  "You and Lois Lane flew to Gotham last month as company representatives," he says.

O shit.

Wayne leans back in his chair.  "Would you care to explain to me what happened?"

I pour a glass of water from the pitcher to give myself time to think carefully.  Living in quiet dread of this conversation, one might expect me to be more prepared for this.

"Well," I start, clearing my throat.  "In fairness, I should point out that Miss Lane was going through some, eh, 'relationship' problems-"

"Just tell us what happened," Kent interrupts.

"She just started fucking everybody."

"What?"

"Yeah," I says, tugging at my collar.  "I mean that chick is a freak.  Her ankles need separate visas.  She fucked everyone on the airplane, two taxi drivers, three dudes she picked up at Starbucks, and the guy that takes orders at the Burger King drive thru."

Kent removes his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose, and I am distracted by the thought that I have seen this man before.

"She didn't even get out of the car for the Burger King guy," I continue.  "It costed me a fortune to get that security footage and upload it to the internet. Jesus Christ, that vagina is so polluted the government tattooed the zip code of Love Canal on it."

Kent puts his glasses back on, and I realize I was mistaken.  Nope.  Never seen this guy before.

"Did you hear about the goat thing?" I offer helpfully.

"We know all about the goat thing!" Kent replies angrily.

"Kent, I've seen flies come out of it."

"We also know that you have been secretly moonlighting as a crime fighter," says Wayne.  "What do you want to tell us about The Shart?"

"You mean beyond the tee shirt I'm wearing that says 'I am The Shart?'"

"Yes," says Wayne.

"Swift, lethal and tenacious -like the shark- I'm always one step ahead of the authorities because I'm smart," I stand heroically, hands on hips. "I am The Shart."

Wayne taps his fingertips together in thought.  "Metropolis is in need of a new superhero," he explains, "and we need this whole Lois Lane thing to go away quietly.  I am prepared to offer you full access to everything Batman uses."

"Like the Batmobile?"

Wayne sighs.  "Yes."

"And the Batphone?"

"Yes."

"If I start a softball league, can I use the Batbat?"

"Don't push your luck," says Wayne.  "Now you need to pick your arch enemy.  How about the Joker?"

"Too dangerous," I says.

"Lex Luthor?"

"Too stupid," I reply.  "I mean why doesn't Luthor just attach Kryptonite to that douchebag Superman pussy while he's flying?  Superman can't fly anymore, and he's mortal.  Splatto!"

"The Riddler?"

I offer a tissue to Kent.  "Does Kent always blubber like a sissy at these meetings?"

"You have to pick an arch enemy," says Wayne.

"Well slow down there, poncho," I says.  "I need a practice arch enemy first."

"At the bottom of the list, we have 'The Litterer,' 'The Jaywalker,' and 'The Guy That Never Tips at Outback Steakhouse.'"

"Jesus Christ," I says.  "Are you trying to get me killed?"

Wayne scrolls.  "The only one left is 'The Vandal.'"

"There we go," I says, smacking my right fist into my cupped left hand.  I will punch that guy's orbital socket until, um, it is really far away.

"Really?"  Wayne asks doubtfully.  "The Vandal?"

"Yes," I decide.  "Banksy turns a worthless brick wall into priceless art.  It's an insurance nightmare.  Fuck that guy."