This Business of Love - Sinister Cutlass (best books for 20 year olds .TXT) 📗

The Unexpected Visitor

It was a spring evening in Edge City, and strange pink and green gases mingled with clouds scudding across the moon. On an apartment rooftop in the middle of the city, a man and a woman found themselves around a little table spread with a clean white cloth and a ravishing meal.

 

When Stanley Ipkiss pulled out Tina Carlyle's chair for her, he bowed from his waist and proffered the seat with a flourish of his fingers.

 

Tina smiled tightly, and took the seat, rolling her eyes when her back was to him.

 

Stanley seated himself opposite and gestured at the table spread between them. "So, what d'you think?"

 

On their plates were spears of buttered asparagus, a bread roll each, and a delicate little construction involving grilled salmon drizzled in sriracha and garnished with bean sprouts and thin slices of radish.

 

"I had to rewind that Julia Child tape about a dozen times to get it right," he said, grinning. He affected a ridiculous French accent. "But finally, I conquered ze dish!"

 

Tina shut her eyes wearily. Stanley seemed not to notice. He proudly drew the lid off a little porcelain pot, which was filled to the brim with glistening black caviar.

 

"Imported straight from Italy," he assured her.

 

A black bottle of wine, with and ancient fat brown cork yet to be removed, stood between them. Tina touched it and with her long, smooth finger drew off a thick trail of dust. It was probably at least a hundred years old.

 

"Californian oak-aged Pinot Noir!" Stanley declared, pinching his thumb and forefinger and shaking his cultured fist for emphasis.

 

Tina smiled sadly. "Stanley, this is... amazing. But you can't afford all of this."

 

"You're worth it," he reassured her.

 

"And you're sweet," she said. "But no date is worth a sacrifice like this."

 

Tina picked up her fork and started into her meal. Stanley rested his wrists on the edge of the table, and looked downtrodden.

 

"I was just trying to be romantic..." he said softly. "You know... like him."

 

Tina bit off a hunk of asparagus, and chewed it down. She placed her own wrists against the edge of the table and gave her companion a dark look. "You are him, Stanley."

 

Stanley withdrew his wrists and leaned back in his chair, self-consciously. "You know that's not how it works. The mask belonged to the Norse god Loki, or carved in his likeness, I guess. It does something to the wearer's mind, makes 'em less inhibited..."

 

Tina had a resolved look about her. "There's also something called the 'placebo effect', Stanley."

 

"Wait, you know what that is?" came Stanley's curious, inappropriate response.

 

Tina rolled her eyes. "Of course. Everyone knows what it is. I've also always known what a Rorschach test was; I only pretended not to know it, so I could get video footage of the bank vault."

 

"Oh. Right," Stanley said, grinning toothily. She was not amused. Stanley swallowed.

 

"But you gotta admit, I did some pretty weird stuff with that mask on-"

 

Tina nodded emphatically-

 

"-you know, stuff that defies rational explanation..."

 

"It doesn't change the fact that what I saw was just another side of you, Stanley... a side I don't really like that much."

 

Stanley's face moved into a quizzical look. "Hold the phone: didn't you say to me," - he imitated her whistful drawl - "'You should see him dance'?"

 

"He was fun for a while, Stanley. But the big gestures, and the one-liners... it's all show. It's all to make you look good. And you're doing it more and more... even without the mask on," she explained, looking crestfallen. "I feel like I'm acting out a play with you, and I don't want to do that anymore. I just want to relax and be real with you."

 

Stanley felt cold. He hunched his shoulders, curling in on himself. He picked up his roll, and buttered it morosely. "Does this mean we can't watch old cartoons on our dates anymore?"

 

Tina gave him a withering look. "I think we should stop the dates for a while, so you can re-evaluate who you want to be."

 

She stood up, and collected her clutch. She gestured at the expensive, time-intensive meal. "And sort out your priorities."

 

She turned to leave, before adding, "For future reference, yes, it would be nice to watch a grownup movie, for once."

 

With that, she returned to the apartment complex, and marched down the stairs.

 

Stanley looked over his beautiful meal, the wine unopened. He found he had no appetite left.

 

He considered tossing the lot over the edge of the roof. But he had worked long and hard on the meal, and he found that the injustice of such a waste offended him more than angrily tossing it promised to cheer him up. He decided to save it.

 

Standing up, arms akimbo, jabbing one finger dramatically skyward, he declared, "This looks like a job for... TUPPERWARE!"

 

In the ringing silence following this bit of theatrics, Stanley winced. He slapped his head twice, to knock sobriety back in.

 

Stanley turned to open the door and head downstairs to his apartment when he came face to face with a huge man in a black cape and cowl crouched above the door lintel.

Ipkiss and Batz

 "What the holy hell?!" yelled Stanley, jumping back several feet.

 

The terrifying man held a small card in his gloved fingers, which he read.

 

"Stanley Ipkiss," came his bottom-of-the-barrel voice. "...seriously? That's your name?"

 

The horrified look in Stanley's eyes quickly morphed into indignation. "Who wants to know?" he demanded.

 

The man tossed away the card, and replied, "I'm known as the Batman."

 

"Okaaayyyy..." said Stanley. "Commenting on the strangeness of this situation would probably make me a hypocrite, so instead I'll ask: why are you here?"

 

The man leaped down from his perch in a menacing whirl of black fabric and animal mystique. Stanley stumbled out of the way, and gripped the back of his chair instinctively.

 

The Batman was very tall; so tall that his cape did not touch the floor when he walked. He gazed out over the rooftops and beyond, to the night clouds drifting behind the skyscrapers of Edge City.

 

"I've received intelligence that my nemesis, the Joker, is vacationing in your city," he boomed.

 

Stanley relaxed a bit, and laughed sardonically. "Why would he take a vacation in Edge City, of all places?"

 

The Batman paused and gestured at the clouds. "It must be because the methane emissions are so nice this time of year."

 

Stanley laughed. "No, really. Why?"

 

The Batman smiled, and Stanley found the sight very unsettling. "You laughed. I'll have to remember that one," said the Batman. "The Joker doesn't think I have a sense of humor. I guess that's not completely accurate."

 

"My confidence in you is growing ev-e-ry minute..." Stanley muttered under his breath.

 

The Batman explained, "I believe he may be after your mask. He will only use it for nefarious purposes."

 

"Wait, my mask?" blurted Stanley. "How do you know about all that?"

 

"You're more well-known than you think, Stanley," said the Batman. "I keep up with the news. Did you really think a conga line in the city park with the entire ECPD would go unreported?"

 

Stanley blushed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, garsh, Batman. We were only having a bit of fun..."

 

"Also," the Batman added. "Your dog was out today, messing with the Loki mask. Caused quite a stir with a female Jack Russell terrier at the Coco BowWow."

 

Stanley stared at him. "Coco... BowWow..."

 

"Yes. There's a whole part of this city frequented only by dogs. They apparently have a night club to mirror your popular watering hole."

 

Stanley looked at him incredulously. "And how would you know about this part of the city, if, indeed, it actually exists?"

 

"I have my contacts."

 

Stanley looked away, and said, "Wow. Not even gonna go there... Nope! But, um, are you asking me to do something about this Joker character?"

 

"I want you to stake out the Coco Bongo Club. From what I've observed, it's exactly the sort of retro, jiving hot spot he likes. It'll be like a moth to a flame."

 

"Well, he's got good taste, I'll give him that."

 

"Also, he will have informed himself about your antics of late and he'll presume to find you there. I want you to draw him out into the open, and I'll bag him before he does any harm."

 

Stanley touched a finger to his chin. "Are you sure it's such a good idea getting that close to him while wearing the mask? I thought I had to protect the thing, not tease him with it..."

 

"True," said the Batman. "But hiding from the Joker will only prolong the inevitable."

 

Stanley stared at him. Then he buried his face in his hand amid raucous snickers.

 

The Batman's anonymous eyes narrowed dangerously, and this chilling sight turned Stanley's laughter sheepish and pitiful.

 

"Why is that funny?" the statuesque man irritably inquired.

 

Stanley wiped his eyes, and managed, "I... really don't know."

 

The Batman nodded. "You know, I think I understand your problem with Tina."

 

"What?! You were listening the whole time?! Well, that's just flippin' fantastic..."

 

"Hey, focus on this job I'm giving you, and it might help you take your mind off her."

 

"Yeah, right, because slumming at the Coco Bongo, the club where she performs, is exactly how I'm gonna do that."

 

"And where would you be otherwise? Hunkering down with mint chip ice cream and Red Hot Riding Hood?"

 

"... Have you been in my apartment?!"

 

"No. Your VHS tape was sitting on the nightstand near the window, and your dog was sneaking some ice cream in the afternoon. He jumped up and yanked open the freezer with his teeth."

 

Stanley was silent. "That... doesn't surprise me as much as it should."

 

"He must have been really depressed after his date... or really tired-"

 

"Hey! Leave Milo out of this! Look, fine. I'll take the job." Stanley sighed. "Wow, I never expected innuendo to come of that scary black cowl..."

 

The Batman smiled. "You don't know who I am in the daytime."

 

"Yeah, I think both you and I would rather it stayed that way," agreed Stanley. Then he had a thought. "Y'know, in detective movies, when the P.I. says 'I'll take the job', you never see him getting paid. You're not paying me for this, are you?"

 

"No."

 

"Oh, right, I forgot," Stanley said sarcastically, turning around and gesturing at the dinner spread. "Because I'm just full of green and this dinner was just a drop in the bucket..."

 

When Stanley turned back to face his conversant, the Batman was gone. Well, that was convenient, he thought.

 

He sighed, and affected a Brooklyn accent. "Well, guess it's time to case the joint. But first..."

 

He grabbed the door handle and stalked down the stairs to his apartment, shouting, "Milo!"