His vehicle, a dented 1987 Chevrolet Silverado in primer black, idled in the driveway. On the front bumper, hung a Bat symbol license plate with the word “Batmobile” stenciled on it.

His single wide trailer sat on cracked concrete blocks in the Shady Rest Mobile Home Park. The front door displayed a crude wooden sign marked “Wayne Manor”. Underneath a rug in the bedroom closet, there was a hole leading to a subterranean tunnel. The tunnel led to a small room filled with supplies and a computer. It was the Batcave.

He stood on the front porch, listening to mosquitoes sizzle in the blue light of the bug zapper. Black combat boots creaked on the wood planks. Black tactical pants hung from a pistol belt that was heavy with gadget-laden ammunition pouches. A coil of rope was secured around his torso. Attached to the rope was a collapsible grappling hook. Beneath a worn black Batman logo t-shirt he wore a black Under Armor shirt. His gloved hands pulled a balaclava down over his face.

Off to fight crime he went.