Never Smylex a Crocodile: Epilogue
The Joker emerged from the toothy maw of Tick-Tock the Crocodile with a Neverland-made ringing alarm clock in his (frayed and ripped) gloved hands…and very few clothes left on his body. Vexed by the shrill noise, he flung the clock back toward his scaly pursuer. But just as the timepiece was about to hit Tick-Tock in the face, Sully, the Joker’s (new) “number-one guy”, pried open the crocodile’s jaws in a last-ditch effort to escape. He was immediately struck on the head by the flying clock! Sully went walleyed as his mouth curled up in a daffy smile; then he slid semiconscious back down Tick-Tock’s gullet!
Once they were certain that Sully was done for, Batman and Vicki Vale looked on in disbelief as the Joker made a desperate escape! His arms were now bare up to his shoulders and his purple-and-green plaid trousers now looked like raggedy pedal-pushers – and most of the seat of those trousers had been ripped out, proudly presenting his absurdly colorful, lollipop-print boxer shorts to the world. His purple coat had been drastically shortened and his shirt had been torn open to reveal a hairy - and sickly green! - chest. Together with all the exposed snow-white flesh, the body of the Clown Prince of Crime as he sprinted down the length of the Axis Chemicals canal made for quite a nauseating sight. Vicki winced, then made the “Ewww” face.
Batman, however, was appalled…and then disappointed…and, finally, extremely frustrated that his most obsessively sought-after prey was about to escape his wrath once again. “No!” he shouted in helpless anger. “NO!”
As always, Vicki’s kind heart caused her to sympathize with someone who didn’t deserve it. “Don’t worry - I think he’ll manage to escape.”
Batman couldn’t believe it! This woman was a complete idiot!
“You don’t understand!” he roared.
“I don’t understand what?”
As he grudgingly deigned to explain, Batman realized the innate absurdity – even for Gotham City – of what he was about to say next. “That crocodile is trying to claim what belongs to me. I’m the one who gets the Joker! Not the police, not the jailers, and definitely not some…some…animal!”
Vicki was now fully convinced that her former boyfriend was hopelessly obsessed. “Since when did the Joker belong to you?”
“Since he shot my parents! Not that it matters to that crocodile, apparently!”
“You already got your revenge up in the cathedral tower,” Vicki reminded the sinister hero. “It’s time to move on. And besides…it’s not like you’re not going to eat the Joker the way the crocodile is going to. You’d be depriving him of a meal, and he needs to eat.”
Batman could barely restrain himself from throttling Vicki for saying something so egregiously stupid! “This isn’t about a meal, Vicki! That croc doesn’t deserve the Joker! He didn’t have his parents slaughtered by that sick scum!”
Vicki shrugged. “Well…maybe he did. We can’t know for sure.”
“Oh, shut up! You’re a reporter.” Batman began to pout. “You’re too objective. You just can’t appreciate people’s feelings.”
Vicki almost rolled her eyes at the irony – or maybe even hypocrisy – of someone as insufferably rude as Batman always was telling her she was unappreciative of other people. But she knew that the black-clad figure before her was in no frame of mind to be mocked. So instead she put on a much more polite expression and replied, as tactfully as possible:
“I understand all that you’ve been through, Bruce, but – ”
She was momentarily silenced when Batman flashed her a Don’t-talk-to-me-like-I’m-a-child! glare.
“Well, no, I can’t say that,” Vicki continued once she had recovered from the nonverbal chiding. “I could never understand it, because what happened to you didn’t happen to me. But I can imagine what your state of mind must be like from day to day, and I do have compassion for you – all that is mine to give. But none of that changes what I believe, and what I think, deep down, you also believe, or at least know that you should believe. Justice is not yours to administer, Bruce. That’s not how society works.”
“Do me a favor and don’t call me ‘Bruce’ when I have the mask on, okay? And don’t you start taking the side of society all of a sudden. Society is totally corrupt. You know that.”
It was clear to Vicki that her former lover was in an impossibly stubborn mood. Time for some reverse psychology…
“…All right, Bru- I mean, Batman. What would make you feel better?”
“What would make me feel better?” Batman’s voice became assertive and commanding once again. “If some kind of justice were served, right here and now. If I were vindicated in some way.”
“Okay…but I don’t see what kind of immediate justice you have in mind. There’s nobody here left to punish…”
It was then that Vicki noticed Batman favoring her with a grin almost as huge and frightening as the Joker’s! Her reaction was more or less imperceptible blending of disbelief, outrage, and horror!
“What?!…No, you can’t be serious!…Don’t you even think about it! Don’t you dare! Get away from me!…EEEEEEEEK! HELLLLLP!”
Vicki tried her best to flee...but her legs, weary and aching from all her frantic activity earlier to avoid being eaten, weren’t about to allow her even a second head-start over the creepily smirking “hero” who was effortlessly jogging up to her in his black running boots. The defenseless blonde felt two musclebound, vulcanized rubber arms wind around her waist like slithering snakes. She let out a shriek that was more like a sharp, dismayed squeak!
Batman threw Vicki over his shoulder and carried her, with her legs kicking petulantly in the air, over to an empty drum of industrial waste. He tipped the barrel over with his boot and then placed Vicki over it, her naked ass jutting out from the hole Tick-Tock had torn in her silky French knickers, just begging for a visit from Batman’s black-gloved paw!
“You’re getting a spanking.”
Vicki nearly choked. This couldn’t be happening! It shouldn’t happen! She wasn’t ready, and probably never would be! When she was a girl, her parents had never spanked her. Her tender, virgin buttocks weren’t tough enough to withstand even a routine spanking – let alone one administered by a 200-pound, heavily muscled, perpetually angry vigilante!
“That’s not fair! I didn’t do anything to you!”
“Oh, how quickly we forget. When I asked you how much you weighed, you lied and said 108 pounds. So now you’ll get 108 spanks.”
“So I lied! What do you care?!”
“I was nearly killed - and worse yet, publicly unmasked - because of your lie.”
“I saved you, didn’t I?!”
“I saved myself. But that’s not the point. The Joker would have won, all because of you. You effectively served as one of his minions.”
Vicki was so disgusted by this slanderous statement that she temporarily forgot her terror. “That’s the stupidest logic I’ve ever heard!” she scoffed.
Batman’s response was stern, but also just a tad smug. “Nice going, Vicki. Now, just for calling me stupid, you’re not getting the palm of my gloved hand. Now you’re getting something worse - and believe me, my thick, hard, insulated gauntlet would have been bad enough.”
Vicki felt her self-confidence unexpectedly returning. “You’re bluffing! There’s nothing in this whole building you can use to paddle me!”
Well, they’d just see about that. Batman lifted Vicki from the barrel and carried her under one brawny arm as he perambulated the dock on the shore of the factory’s canal. Then he spied something very, very interesting: the Joker’s “Prank Bin!” After briefly sifting through the comedy props, he discovered just what he needed: a flattened wooden club designed to produce a booming “THWACK!” when it hit something!
As soon as Vicki noted what Batman had pulled from the box, her defiantly supercilious smirk collapsed, and her meekness and fright returned with a vengeance. “No! Noooo! Oh God, please don’t! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Pleeeease!”
“Sorry, but it’s too late.” The Caped Crusader sarcastically feigned weepiness. “You hurt my feelings!”
There was no hope of escape for the traumatized Vicki. Her delicate backside fully exposed, and her totally unjustified “punishment” inevitable.
Batman closed the bin and sat down on its lid, whereupon he placed Vicki across his lap. He went to clamp a glove over her mouth so he couldn’t hear her screams...but then he chuckled as he decided that, as damned annoying as Vicki’s characteristic screeching was, this gag just wouldn’t be truly funny or satisfying without it! So instead of muffling Vicki’s mouth, Batman pushed on the area of her bare bum-bags just below the anus, puffing them up so that the softest and most vulnerable areas would feel the sting of the paddle.
Vicki was so frightened and ashamed now that her voice was barely more than a breathy whisper. “Oh God, no…This is all a bad dream…”
“Ohh-h-h-h-h!” The sensation on Vicki’s rear was almost as painful as that of falling in a sitting position onto a particularly thorny rose bush.
“Ooooooooooooooh!” The poor damsel’s ass starting to feel as if it had spent several weeks at the Tropic of Cancer – without sunscreen. Vicki was suddenly craving a cooling splash of ice water on her posterior more than she had ever craved anything else.
*THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!*
With each whap, Vicki’s tochas transitioned a little further from a sunny peach to a deep rosy pink – and if current trends continued, it would soon approach a flagrant salmon red.
“EEEEEE! Stop! Dammit, stop this! How can I get you to let me go?”
“Why don’t you start by confessing the truth?”
But Vicki’s stuck-up attitude – and her mouth – wouldn’t allow her to even consider this merciful offer.
“Tell you how much I really weigh? Never!”
“Aaah! All right, all right!” Vicki was now blubbering, defeated and humiliated. All that concerned her now was whether – if ever – this nightmare would end.
“What is your weight?”
Vicki’s voice was so soft it could barely be heard. “134 pounds…sir.”
“Now…” began Batman patronizingly, consciously imitating his father’s voice. “Are you telling Daddy the truth? Is that your weight for real?”
It was time for Vicki to earn her freedom by turning the “cuteness” faucet up full-blast. She looked up at her undeniably virile and handsome spanker with “puppy-dog eyes” and treated him to her most ingratiating smile and puerile voice. “Uh-huh…” she whined.
No possible way even Batman would be able to resist that!
And, indeed, at first the Dark Knight sounded merciful. “Well, Vicki…” he began diplomatically.
But then this cruel smile reappeared!
“You just made it 134 spanks.”
Vicki let out a scream epic enough to shatter every window in the area!