07/18/2012 05:52 pm ET Updated Sep 17, 2012

The Dark Knight Fails

Robin awoke with a start. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was being beaten unconscious by masked henchmen. Now he found himself tied spread-eagle to a fur-lined four-poster bed.

He fell back on Batman's training. The first thing to do was get his bearings. The room he found himself incarcerated in was decorated with red velvet wallpaper, gold chandeliers, nude statuary, and ceiling mirrors. Holy bordello! It look like the presidential suite at a French cathouse. Where the H-E-double hockey sticks was he?

He heard a menacing rustling sound just out of his line of vision, like silk fornicating with leather. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

A familiar feline figure slunk from the shadows. "What's the matter, Boy Blunder -- cat got your tongue?"

"Catwoman! I should have known!" She was wearing a skintight spandex catsuit that left nothing to the imagination and everything to Victoria's Secret.

"Catwoman no longer. I've decided to change my nom de crime to Cougarwoman, for reasons that will soon become purrrr-fectly clear."

"It doesn't matter what you call yourself. Batman will soon be here to declaw you!"

Cougarwoman made a little mew. "Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman! I'm so sick of talking about Batman!" She sat down on the bed next to Robin. "Let's talk about you."

"Me?" Robin squeaked. He was unaccountably sweating. There must be some malfunction in his temperature-controlled underwear.

Cougarwoman smiled, showing off her shapely felines. "Yes, I've always wondered what goes on behind that cowl of yours. Do you spend all your time with Batman? Do you have a girlfriend? Have you ever been kissed?"

"K-kissed?" Robin stammered. This was not quite the line of questioning the Teen Titan had expected. He anticipated being interrogated -- tortured even -- about the location of the Batcave, Batman's secret identity, the combination to Police Commissioner Gordon's safe, etc., but not this. "No," he admitted finally, blushing.

"What a pity." She slid down next to him in bed. "I've always had a weakness for younger men," she purred. "They're like catnip to me. So handsome, so virile, so much... stamina."

As she pressed her womanly body against his boyish one, Robin was aware Cougarwoman was exuding some thick, exotic musk -- something sweet and intoxicating. Was that her diabolical game? Was she trying to keep him distracted while she slowly killed him with some type of chemical weapon? He struggled to reach the antitoxin pills in is utility belt.

She blew in his ear. This is it, Robin thought. She was going to stick a poisoned hypodermic in his ear and give him a cerebral hemorrhage. But all she stuck in his ear was her long, pink, catlike tongue... which felt kind of good. Weird, but definitely good.

"Admit it, Robin, I'm a SILF -- a supervillainess you'd love to..."

"No! Batman! Batman! Help!"

"Your mouth says no, but your tights say yes. Is that a batarang you've got in there, or are you just happy to see me?"

"No!... I mean yes!... I mean I don't know what I mean!"

"Let's see what kind of secret weapon you keep hidden inside here," she said, and reached inside his trunks.

"No... wait... stop!"

"Mmm," Cougarwoman purred. "You may be called the Boy Wonder, but you're all man! You make Apache Chief look like the Atom!"

She stood up. "Now it's my turn. Let me show you something." She pulled down the full-length zippers of her catsuit. Her costume slid sensuously to the floor, leaving her clad only in a pair of kitten heels. She posed in front of her helpless captive, giving him a a good, long, hard look at her "catcave."

"Holy hirsute!"

"That's right! I've got a hairy little pussycat. Hungry too. Time to feed the kitty!" She quickly straddled his prone form.

"Batman! Help, Batman! Mmmm... f--"


Later, when Batman finally tracked down Cougarwoman's secret lair -- it was located in Katmandu, accessible only by catamaran -- he found them lying together in bed. Naked. And sharing a cigarette.

"Robin, how could you! My own sidekick in bed with my own arch nemesis! And you're smoking!"

"Sorry, Batman," Robin said. He didn't sound very sorry at all. "I didn't have much choice. And you can stop calling me Robin. My new moniker is 'Boy Toy'. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"She's obviously brainwashed you, Robin. Put your clothes back on, and I'll deprogram you when we get back to the Batcave. And for God's sake, put out that cigarette! You'll stunt your growth!"

"Don't get your tights in a twist," Cougarwoman said. "Boy Toy's here of his own free will, aren't you honey? And he has nothing to worry about in the growth department."

"I sure am, sweetmeat! Look, Batman, I'm a lover, not a crime fighter. I much rather pussyfoot around with Cougarwoman than trade punches with the Penguin or jabs with the Joker any day. It's a lot safer -- and a heckuva lot more fun."

"But what am I going to do without a partner?" Batman cried. "The Batmobile is a two-seater!"

"Quit your caterwauling. You could always do a solo act, you know," Cougarwoman said.
"Superman gets along quite well without a partner -- although I hear he's gay."

"But what about us?" Batman pleaded with Cougarwoman. "I always thought there was a certain sexual tension between us -- that whole good guy/bad girl dynamic. I thought you would eventually reform, and we could have a super family together."

"Sorry, Batman. That got old -- and so did you. I'm in my sexual prime. I need fresh meat for my little mousetrap, not yesterday's trimmings. The Dark Knight Rises, but you can't get it up."

"What if I tried Batviagra?"

"It's too late for that. A robin in the bush is worth two in the hand."

The Caped Crusader bowed his head in defeat. He realized that Cougarwoman had finally vanquished him. She could give Boy Toy the one thing he couldn't -- a warm place to call home.

"You're the Bane of my existence," he said.