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Heroes of the Squared Circle 59: Twitter Feud
Title: Twitter Feud
Relationship: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, Heat Wave, Captain Cold, Dick Grayson, Superboy
Continuity: Heroes of the Squared Circle, a DC/pro wrestling fusion.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count 2100
Summary: Superman and Batman take on Captain Cold and Heat Wave--both in the ring and on Twitter.
When you think you know the answers, I change the questions. --Roddy Piper
“Jesus, why’d you have to rent a sports car?” grumbled Leonard Snart from the back seat. “My knees are going to ache like a son of a bitch by the time we get there.”
“Billionaire Brucie has an image to maintain,” said Bruce, throwing the car into a higher gear and speeding up as I-44 opened up before them on the way from Tulsa to Oklahoma City.
“So you gotta rent a car in-character, but you don’t mind traveling with your hated rivals for the tag team championship?” sniped Mick Rory.
“You’re not traveling with Superman and Batman, you’re traveling with Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne,” said Bruce. “No alignment problems there--well, Kent’s a bit of a goody-goody, but we can always claim we didn’t have any choice but to put up with him.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Clark. “So you’re serious about the whole ‘Batman’ thing? ‘The Dark Knight’ is a much cooler name.”
“It sounds so much better with ‘Superman,’” said Bruce. “Besides, you gave it to me.”
“Ah, get a room, you two,” groused Mick without looking up from his phone.
“Not until Oklahoma City,” Bruce said breezily, which was the usual way he replied to anyone hinting their relationship was more than just friends. Those hints had experienced a definite uptick recently, but generally they were low-key and good-natured, and Bruce continued to almost-acknowledge them while never quite addressing them. For his part, Clark had turned red and stammered the first time Harvey Dent had casually asked Clark how he and Bruce would be spending Valentine’s Day, and since then few people had needled him about it.
“Okay,” said Mick now, “I just posted on Twitter that I was looking forward to roasting you in Oklahoma City. Got a good comeback to that, Kent?”
“Hold on,” Clark said, tapping on his phone. “There you go.”
“What’d you say?” said Bruce.
Snart held up his phone. “‘Your insults aren’t so hot, Heat Wave,’” he read out loud. “That’s terrible, Clark.”
“Come on, you can do better than that,” Mick said as Bruce groaned.
“I’m not as good at this as Bruce,” Clark complained. “And he’s driving.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Bruce said, and rattled off four retorts in quick succession, all based around fire and ice puns (“Got to make sure Snart’s involved too.”) Clark went with a couple of them and soon enough the three of them--and Bruce by proxy--were embroiled (“No pun intended,” said Clark. “I hope not,” said Bruce) in a raging Twitter feud that got them a lot of retweets and fans weighing in on both sides.
“You’d better throw in a jab about having to work with that ridiculous, self-important Batman while you’re at it,” said Bruce. “Unhyphenated, please.”
“Can I use scare quotes?”
“Now that’s a decent pun,” said Snart. “Because he’s scary, see, and...oh, never mind.”
Bruce shrugged. “Just lose the hyphen, okay?”
“Bruce, you practically saved my life twice now,” Clark complained. “It’s not very good continuity that we’re sniping at each other like this.”
Bruce honest-to-God cackled. “What’s the fun of a tag team if they get along right away? Why should Fire and Ice back there have all the fun, anyway? Look, if you want a motivation, maybe I realized once I’d broken your brainwashing that you’re even more powerful than I suspected, and that makes me uneasy. Or maybe you’re just so gosh-darn good that I’m a little suspicious of you. I mean, all that kissing babies and giving speeches about truth and justice--no one’s really that nice, right?”
“I kind of liked the truth and justice speech,” Clark muttered, and heard Mick and Leonard snickering in the back seat. “Oh, shut up,” he said over his shoulder.
“Oooooh,” said Leonard. “He told us to shut up, that isn’t very nice, is it, Mick?”
“It isn’t, Leonard. My image of Superman is completely destroyed,” Mick agreed solemnly before dissolving into giggles.
“It’s okay, Clark. They don’t understand babyface psychology.”
”Hell yeah,” chorused both of them from the back seat, and followed it up with a self-congratulatory high-five.
“Anyway, I’m going to pull over at the next gas station to fill up and shoot off some caustic responses to Clark,” said Bruce. He drummed his fingers on the wheel, and Clark could tell they were just itching to get at a phone and get the best of him on Twitter. Scanning back over his recent tweets, he noticed one had a typo and grimaced. Bruce would never let that one slip by without comment.
He started to delete it, then stopped and left it, smiling to himself. Let Bruce have a little fun.
The Oklahoma City crowd was seething as Captain Cold and Heat Wave swaggered to the ring, ignoring the boos and thumbs-downs of the crowd. Snart and Rory preened and posed on the turnbuckles, basking in the derision, stoking it even more as Superman and ”Batman” waited impatiently in the ring.
This time Superman let Batman start the match, bowing in a way that was only a shade mocking. Batman met Captain Cold first, and they put on a series of tight, interlinked moves that had the crowd cheering Batman with delight. Heat Wave reached out to his partner to try and make the tag, but Batman yanked him away, whipping him to the far side of the ring, next to where Superman was. He pounced once more, and looked like he was about to get Captain Cold into a submission hold--
--When Superman reached out as he went by and tagged himself in.
Batman glared as Superman climbed over the ropes with a grin. “Can’t let you have all the fun!” Superman called. He turned around--and walked right into Heat Wave’s fist, as Captain Cold had tagged him in while the two had their staredown. Superman staggered backwards, ricocheting off the ropes and into Heat Wave’s forearm for a vicious clothesline that flipped him in midair.
Disgusted, Batman jumped off the apron and looked like he was thinking about just walking out on his headstrong partner. Then he paused, irresolute, and looked out at the audience as if in appeal: Is he worth it? The audience called out “No, no!” as he stepped away from the ring where Superman was currently getting suplexed and punched mercilessly. They cheered when he stepped back toward the ring. He shook his head and turned away again, and the crowd implored him: “Don’t go! Don’t go!”
In the ring, Heat Wave delivered his finishing move, the Scorcher Superkick, and Superman collapsed to the mat. Heat Wave grabbed him for the pin, the ref started the count--and Batman suddenly seemed to make up his mind, turning and jumping into the ring to break the pin and save the match as the crowd roared its approval. Superman struggled to his feet, weaving and disoriented, and an annoyed Heat Wave hit him with another superkick. This time, however, a slender figure jumped out of the audience just as he did and grabbed Batman’s feet, yanking him so his chin hit the apron with a resounding thunk. The Golden Glider, sister to Captain Cold, laughed cruelly as Snart pinned Superman, and she threw in a kick to Batman’s ribs for good measure as the bell rang.
“We almost won,” Superman said to Jimmy Olsen in the post-match interview. He was still holding his head and wincing, and next to him Batman was probing gingerly at his ribs. “We probably could have if Batman hadn’t almost decided to abandon me.”
“Follow sound strategy and I won’t have to consider it again,” Batman snapped and stalked off.
“Superman, do you think the two of you will ever be a good team?” Olsen asked earnestly.
Superman almost smiled. “Jimmy, I know we’ll make a great team.”
"Yoink!"
"When we're live, could you leave out the 'yoink,' Conner?" The director gave Superboy an exasperated look.
"I'll try," said Conner, looking not very repentant.
"All right, everyone, this is live, and we're rolling in three...two..."
Conner did manage to resist saying anything funny as the camera caught him walking past a door and a hand reached out and dragged him inside, although Clark could tell it was a greater struggle than the one he put up against his kidnappers. "I can't help it," he had said once to Clark after driving a director to distraction with his facial expressions, "Wrestling is too hilarious to be serious about."
"He's right," Bruce had said, much to his surprise, when Clark told him about it later. "A lot of the time, at least," he added with a shrug.
"Luthor!" On the Jumbotron, the door to Luthor's opulent office slammed open, and Superman charged in. "Superboy's been kidnapped by the Injustice League!"
"Don't you ever knock?" grumbled Luthor without looking up from his phone.
"I said--"
"And I heard you, Superman, but that's your problem, not mine. Maybe you didn't notice, but I have a promotion to run, and--"
The screen in the corner of his office flickered into life without prompting. "Well, well," said the Mysterious Hooded Figure, its voice a distorted rasp. "If it isn't Superman and Lex Luthor, working together. As it so happens, I have something of value to you both." The figure stepped aside to reveal Superboy, tied to a chair, a gag in his mouth. (Clark suspected the gag might have become necessary to keep him from cracking jokes). "Now, this Kryptonian clone is clearly important to Superman. But you, Luthor, may be asking yourself why you should care about one replaceable employee."
Luthor shrugged, and the figure went on:
"This child, Luthor, is much more than a random wrestler to you. In fact, he is--"
"My son?!"
The locker room erupted in laughter as Dick Grayson imitated the way Luthor's voice had spiralled into a squeak at the revelation from the screen.
"Oh my God," said Roy, wiping his eyes. "Oh, that was gold. Pure gold."
"He actually has great comedic timing," said Dick. "I can see where his son gets it from," he added with a wink at Conner, which set everyone off again.
"And the double-take he did at Superman!" Conner added. "I thought he was going to give himself whiplash. Oh God, this is the best angle ever."
"You're just saying that because you get to be the damsel in distress," said Tim, nudging him.
"Doesn't hurt," Conner agreed with a grin, "Though it sucks I can't be in any matches until you guys rescue me."
"Well, we've got our best people on the case," said Superman. "It shouldn't be more than a few weeks."
Conner groaned, but the sound was cut off as the locker room door opened and Lex Luthor came into the room. "Hi Dad!" he started to call out, but the call died on his lips as a familiar figure followed Luthor into the room.
Jean-Paul Valley nodded stiffly to everyone. "Hello," he said. "It's been a while."
Eyes turned quickly from Valley to Dick Grayson, still standing in the middle of the room with the heavyweight championship belt--the one Azrael had been stripped of before him--around his waist.
"Gentlemen," said Luthor briskly, not acknowledging the sudden tension in the room, "I'm pleased to report Valley will be back and wrestling with us starting with the next show. He's had some time to think about things, and he says he's ready to work for the DCW again. I for one have complete and total faith in him." He clapped Valley on the back. "If any of you have a problem with him, please speak up now."
This time people pointedly did not look at Dick, although the sharp words Valley had said about the Graysons seemed to hang in the air. Clark saw Dick's throat move as he swallowed, but he said nothing. After a moment, the champion turned away and started to go through his gym bag.
"Glad to hear it," said Luthor. "As you were."
He turned and left the locker room. Jean-Paul cast an opaque glance around before leaving as well.
"Maybe we were wrong about him having a sense of humor," Conner said glumly into the sudden silence.
Relationship: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, Heat Wave, Captain Cold, Dick Grayson, Superboy
Continuity: Heroes of the Squared Circle, a DC/pro wrestling fusion.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count 2100
Summary: Superman and Batman take on Captain Cold and Heat Wave--both in the ring and on Twitter.
When you think you know the answers, I change the questions. --Roddy Piper
“Jesus, why’d you have to rent a sports car?” grumbled Leonard Snart from the back seat. “My knees are going to ache like a son of a bitch by the time we get there.”
“Billionaire Brucie has an image to maintain,” said Bruce, throwing the car into a higher gear and speeding up as I-44 opened up before them on the way from Tulsa to Oklahoma City.
“So you gotta rent a car in-character, but you don’t mind traveling with your hated rivals for the tag team championship?” sniped Mick Rory.
“You’re not traveling with Superman and Batman, you’re traveling with Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne,” said Bruce. “No alignment problems there--well, Kent’s a bit of a goody-goody, but we can always claim we didn’t have any choice but to put up with him.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Clark. “So you’re serious about the whole ‘Batman’ thing? ‘The Dark Knight’ is a much cooler name.”
“It sounds so much better with ‘Superman,’” said Bruce. “Besides, you gave it to me.”
“Ah, get a room, you two,” groused Mick without looking up from his phone.
“Not until Oklahoma City,” Bruce said breezily, which was the usual way he replied to anyone hinting their relationship was more than just friends. Those hints had experienced a definite uptick recently, but generally they were low-key and good-natured, and Bruce continued to almost-acknowledge them while never quite addressing them. For his part, Clark had turned red and stammered the first time Harvey Dent had casually asked Clark how he and Bruce would be spending Valentine’s Day, and since then few people had needled him about it.
“Okay,” said Mick now, “I just posted on Twitter that I was looking forward to roasting you in Oklahoma City. Got a good comeback to that, Kent?”
“Hold on,” Clark said, tapping on his phone. “There you go.”
“What’d you say?” said Bruce.
Snart held up his phone. “‘Your insults aren’t so hot, Heat Wave,’” he read out loud. “That’s terrible, Clark.”
“Come on, you can do better than that,” Mick said as Bruce groaned.
“I’m not as good at this as Bruce,” Clark complained. “And he’s driving.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Bruce said, and rattled off four retorts in quick succession, all based around fire and ice puns (“Got to make sure Snart’s involved too.”) Clark went with a couple of them and soon enough the three of them--and Bruce by proxy--were embroiled (“No pun intended,” said Clark. “I hope not,” said Bruce) in a raging Twitter feud that got them a lot of retweets and fans weighing in on both sides.
“You’d better throw in a jab about having to work with that ridiculous, self-important Batman while you’re at it,” said Bruce. “Unhyphenated, please.”
“Can I use scare quotes?”
“Now that’s a decent pun,” said Snart. “Because he’s scary, see, and...oh, never mind.”
Bruce shrugged. “Just lose the hyphen, okay?”
“Bruce, you practically saved my life twice now,” Clark complained. “It’s not very good continuity that we’re sniping at each other like this.”
Bruce honest-to-God cackled. “What’s the fun of a tag team if they get along right away? Why should Fire and Ice back there have all the fun, anyway? Look, if you want a motivation, maybe I realized once I’d broken your brainwashing that you’re even more powerful than I suspected, and that makes me uneasy. Or maybe you’re just so gosh-darn good that I’m a little suspicious of you. I mean, all that kissing babies and giving speeches about truth and justice--no one’s really that nice, right?”
“I kind of liked the truth and justice speech,” Clark muttered, and heard Mick and Leonard snickering in the back seat. “Oh, shut up,” he said over his shoulder.
“Oooooh,” said Leonard. “He told us to shut up, that isn’t very nice, is it, Mick?”
“It isn’t, Leonard. My image of Superman is completely destroyed,” Mick agreed solemnly before dissolving into giggles.
“It’s okay, Clark. They don’t understand babyface psychology.”
”Hell yeah,” chorused both of them from the back seat, and followed it up with a self-congratulatory high-five.
“Anyway, I’m going to pull over at the next gas station to fill up and shoot off some caustic responses to Clark,” said Bruce. He drummed his fingers on the wheel, and Clark could tell they were just itching to get at a phone and get the best of him on Twitter. Scanning back over his recent tweets, he noticed one had a typo and grimaced. Bruce would never let that one slip by without comment.
He started to delete it, then stopped and left it, smiling to himself. Let Bruce have a little fun.
The Oklahoma City crowd was seething as Captain Cold and Heat Wave swaggered to the ring, ignoring the boos and thumbs-downs of the crowd. Snart and Rory preened and posed on the turnbuckles, basking in the derision, stoking it even more as Superman and ”Batman” waited impatiently in the ring.
This time Superman let Batman start the match, bowing in a way that was only a shade mocking. Batman met Captain Cold first, and they put on a series of tight, interlinked moves that had the crowd cheering Batman with delight. Heat Wave reached out to his partner to try and make the tag, but Batman yanked him away, whipping him to the far side of the ring, next to where Superman was. He pounced once more, and looked like he was about to get Captain Cold into a submission hold--
--When Superman reached out as he went by and tagged himself in.
Batman glared as Superman climbed over the ropes with a grin. “Can’t let you have all the fun!” Superman called. He turned around--and walked right into Heat Wave’s fist, as Captain Cold had tagged him in while the two had their staredown. Superman staggered backwards, ricocheting off the ropes and into Heat Wave’s forearm for a vicious clothesline that flipped him in midair.
Disgusted, Batman jumped off the apron and looked like he was thinking about just walking out on his headstrong partner. Then he paused, irresolute, and looked out at the audience as if in appeal: Is he worth it? The audience called out “No, no!” as he stepped away from the ring where Superman was currently getting suplexed and punched mercilessly. They cheered when he stepped back toward the ring. He shook his head and turned away again, and the crowd implored him: “Don’t go! Don’t go!”
In the ring, Heat Wave delivered his finishing move, the Scorcher Superkick, and Superman collapsed to the mat. Heat Wave grabbed him for the pin, the ref started the count--and Batman suddenly seemed to make up his mind, turning and jumping into the ring to break the pin and save the match as the crowd roared its approval. Superman struggled to his feet, weaving and disoriented, and an annoyed Heat Wave hit him with another superkick. This time, however, a slender figure jumped out of the audience just as he did and grabbed Batman’s feet, yanking him so his chin hit the apron with a resounding thunk. The Golden Glider, sister to Captain Cold, laughed cruelly as Snart pinned Superman, and she threw in a kick to Batman’s ribs for good measure as the bell rang.
“We almost won,” Superman said to Jimmy Olsen in the post-match interview. He was still holding his head and wincing, and next to him Batman was probing gingerly at his ribs. “We probably could have if Batman hadn’t almost decided to abandon me.”
“Follow sound strategy and I won’t have to consider it again,” Batman snapped and stalked off.
“Superman, do you think the two of you will ever be a good team?” Olsen asked earnestly.
Superman almost smiled. “Jimmy, I know we’ll make a great team.”
"Yoink!"
"When we're live, could you leave out the 'yoink,' Conner?" The director gave Superboy an exasperated look.
"I'll try," said Conner, looking not very repentant.
"All right, everyone, this is live, and we're rolling in three...two..."
Conner did manage to resist saying anything funny as the camera caught him walking past a door and a hand reached out and dragged him inside, although Clark could tell it was a greater struggle than the one he put up against his kidnappers. "I can't help it," he had said once to Clark after driving a director to distraction with his facial expressions, "Wrestling is too hilarious to be serious about."
"He's right," Bruce had said, much to his surprise, when Clark told him about it later. "A lot of the time, at least," he added with a shrug.
"Luthor!" On the Jumbotron, the door to Luthor's opulent office slammed open, and Superman charged in. "Superboy's been kidnapped by the Injustice League!"
"Don't you ever knock?" grumbled Luthor without looking up from his phone.
"I said--"
"And I heard you, Superman, but that's your problem, not mine. Maybe you didn't notice, but I have a promotion to run, and--"
The screen in the corner of his office flickered into life without prompting. "Well, well," said the Mysterious Hooded Figure, its voice a distorted rasp. "If it isn't Superman and Lex Luthor, working together. As it so happens, I have something of value to you both." The figure stepped aside to reveal Superboy, tied to a chair, a gag in his mouth. (Clark suspected the gag might have become necessary to keep him from cracking jokes). "Now, this Kryptonian clone is clearly important to Superman. But you, Luthor, may be asking yourself why you should care about one replaceable employee."
Luthor shrugged, and the figure went on:
"This child, Luthor, is much more than a random wrestler to you. In fact, he is--"
"My son?!"
The locker room erupted in laughter as Dick Grayson imitated the way Luthor's voice had spiralled into a squeak at the revelation from the screen.
"Oh my God," said Roy, wiping his eyes. "Oh, that was gold. Pure gold."
"He actually has great comedic timing," said Dick. "I can see where his son gets it from," he added with a wink at Conner, which set everyone off again.
"And the double-take he did at Superman!" Conner added. "I thought he was going to give himself whiplash. Oh God, this is the best angle ever."
"You're just saying that because you get to be the damsel in distress," said Tim, nudging him.
"Doesn't hurt," Conner agreed with a grin, "Though it sucks I can't be in any matches until you guys rescue me."
"Well, we've got our best people on the case," said Superman. "It shouldn't be more than a few weeks."
Conner groaned, but the sound was cut off as the locker room door opened and Lex Luthor came into the room. "Hi Dad!" he started to call out, but the call died on his lips as a familiar figure followed Luthor into the room.
Jean-Paul Valley nodded stiffly to everyone. "Hello," he said. "It's been a while."
Eyes turned quickly from Valley to Dick Grayson, still standing in the middle of the room with the heavyweight championship belt--the one Azrael had been stripped of before him--around his waist.
"Gentlemen," said Luthor briskly, not acknowledging the sudden tension in the room, "I'm pleased to report Valley will be back and wrestling with us starting with the next show. He's had some time to think about things, and he says he's ready to work for the DCW again. I for one have complete and total faith in him." He clapped Valley on the back. "If any of you have a problem with him, please speak up now."
This time people pointedly did not look at Dick, although the sharp words Valley had said about the Graysons seemed to hang in the air. Clark saw Dick's throat move as he swallowed, but he said nothing. After a moment, the champion turned away and started to go through his gym bag.
"Glad to hear it," said Luthor. "As you were."
He turned and left the locker room. Jean-Paul cast an opaque glance around before leaving as well.
"Maybe we were wrong about him having a sense of humor," Conner said glumly into the sudden silence.