Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 4399 - 3490: Research on Cats and Dogs (1)_2

"Just a movie?"

The Superman on the right shrugged and said, "What did I tell you? He doesn't even like watching movies."

Just as he finished saying this, Bruce sent another message: "You know Selina doesn't have the patience for that. A movie's length is enough time for her to claw up every single thing in your house."

"So you're okay with it?"

"Of course I'm not! Because I have to stop Selina! Or do you expect me to pay for your furniture when she wrecks it? I've got no money!"

Clark showed a helpless smile and said, "I promise that our strong and beautiful kitty breaking anything won't make me ask for your compensation. Is that better now?"

"That doesn't work either!" Bruce hollered above the bar's loud background music, "You'll find some way to make me pay for it eventually—I know you will! You'll sneak details into your news reports, write about how I supposedly have six lovers, three of whom are men, and claim you've been fed lies by that damn Lex Luther..."

Clark threw his head back in laughter but quickly responded, "No, if Lex were involved, he'd make me write that you simultaneously dated three boyfriends and three girlfriends so your PhD still hasn't been completed..."

"You two are perfectly wicked together! Damn people from Metropolis!"

Clark noticed his voice was slurred, likely tipsy. Taking the opportunity, Clark pressed on, "Alright, forget the specifics for now, but you're cool with the idea of Couples' Night, yeah?"

"Should I be agreeing? How sure are you that there won't be chaos?"

"I've prepared all the safety measures. My house has great soundproofing. Or are you saying Selina's claw marks could end up on you too?"

"Oh, please. Keep talking like that and I'll bring Aisha over."

"So that means you're agreeing?"

"Fine. Hillbilly. Do whatever you want. If I don't show up by then, you can just fly over and drag me. Hahaha... Wait. You're not bringing Lex, are you?"

"No, he doesn't have a girlfriend."

"Make him find one, right now. Who else did you invite?"

"That's it, just the four of us. You know I'd never—ever—ever invite Pamela."

"I thought you said your house had great soundproofing?"

"No, no way. I'd rather have Selina dismantle all my furniture than let that woman get near Lois—not even half a step. She's practically a Hobgoblin in heat!"

The next voice message Bruce sent over had him heaving like he was about to throw up, coughing twice, and muttering, "You do love Lois, huh? I'm hitting the dance floor. If you've sorted things out, come find me. Bye."

"Bye, I'll be sure to tell Lex you said he needs to find a girlfriend immediately."

Clark set his phone down only to realize two pairs of blue eyes were staring at him intently—one to his left, arms crossed; the other to his right, legs stretched out.

"You wouldn't happen to be *that* Superman siding with Batman, would you?"

"I bet it's him. There's no one else it could be."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Clark said, shaking his head as he scrolled through his contacts for Lex. "You can't just envy me because the Batman in *my* universe is more easygoing."

"That's not what we were discussing. Alternatively—could it be an imposter pretending to be him?"

Clark immediately pulled up Bruce's profile photo and showed it to the two of them. "Doesn't this look exactly like your universe's Bruce Wayne?"

"Of course they look alike—they all look alike. But—can you explain what the hell he's wearing on his head?"

Clark's face showed exasperation, "Come on, haven't you been to Disney theme parks? Aren't those Disney's mouse ears?"

"Theme park? You're trying to tell us Batman would willingly wear theme park mouse props on his head?"

"But Bruce would totally do that."

"No way. That makes him look ridiculous. How does he even manage to chat with attractive blonde women while sporting something like that? What, does he start talking about how cool carousel rides are?"

"Well, clearly, they missed out on childhoods."

"Ooooh—" Both Supermen leaned back, drawing out the sound dramatically before saying, "Mind your manners, don't bring that up!"

"Look, I don't care what your universe's Batman is like. The Bruce I know is perfectly fine."

"You mean, drunk at a bar?"

"Going to bars is totally normal for adults. Even I go sometimes. Don't you?"

"Oh, he's not just *at* a bar. I'll bet right now he's surrounded by the highest density of supermodels in the world. Probably set up 60 different camera angles to fully capture his wild bar adventures. Then by tomorrow, he'll be on 20,000 global headlines..."

Clark squinted suspiciously, glancing left, then right. "You two wouldn't happen to *be* two of those 60 camera angles, would you?"

Both Supermen simultaneously turned their heads away.

"Like I said, regardless of whatever version of Batman you're dealing with, I know my Bruce well. He goes to bars purely to drink—no nonsense supermodels involved."

"If you sent him a voice message anyway, why not just call him on video? He probably wouldn't pick up, though," the younger Superman suggested.

"You do realize that's a childish trick, right?" Clark shot him a look, then clicked into the chat window. "Fine, I'll call—but he really might not pick up since he could already be passed-out drunk."

"He's faking it. Every Batman fakes it," Superman scoffed. "Passes out on the couch mumbling nonsense, then ten minutes later goes back to the Batcave and solves 50 of the Riddler's riddles in under a minute. Classic Batman."

"Sounds like you've got issues." Clark said this while pressing the video call button.

About three seconds later, the call was answered. Clark heard Bruce yell something, then both his phone and a bottle clattered about like Dominoes. When the screen finally settled, a pair of absolutely stunningly blue eyes stared into it.

"Good god. How'd you get this wasted?" Clark asked in surprise, "How much did you drink? A whole glass of cocktail whiskey?"

The Bruce on-screen had messy hair, and it was impossible to tell whether he was squeezing his eyes shut or forcing them open—all you knew was his eyelids were stretched taut without a single crease. Then, like the textbook image of a drunkard, he pursed his lips into a straight line, curled up the corners into a grin as wide as a pumpkin.

"You're so underestimating me. I drank *three* full glasses!" Bruce hiccupped. "No ice cubes. Tasted awful."

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"You're insane." Clark said, "Don't tell me you timed this to argue with Selina right before Valentine's Day. How'd she not claw your face off?"