The halls of Wayne Manor echo as Batman prowls, brooding in his dark manner. His phone is in his left hand; his right finger casually swipes every few seconds as the world's greatest detective browses the world wide web. He almost bumps into Robin, who has just returned from voting in the Democratic presidential primary.
"Holy fucking smokes," says Batman, the right corner of his mouth turning upward into a grimace. "Take care when you come around corners. There are people walking around here, you know."
"Sorry, Bruce," says Robin. "I'm going to go up to my room and rattle off a quick blog post..."
"Another political puff piece?" says Batman. "No doubt devoted to that loony communist, I assume?"
Robin stares coldly at Batman, futilely attempting to keep this brief conversation from devolving into another violent shouting match.
"I thought we agreed not to talk politics," he says finally. "I'm not going to convince you to change your opinions, and you also cannot convince to me to change mine. It's not healthy for our relationship to argue so."
"You voted for Sanders, didn't you? He doesn't have a snowball's chance anymore. The numbers are coming in. Biden's won in a landslide. Trump's going to expose his son's Ukraine corruption and the Dems are going to lose again like the America hating losers they are."
Batman's smile is so smug Robin can practically see the shit dripping from his grin. It takes all of his willpower not to cold cock his former mentor.
"Yes, I'm sure a guy who can't crack a 44 percent approval rating is a sure bet for reelection. Just keep living in your right wing news bubble, Bruce. Most of America hates Trump's guts. Sure, Joe Biden isn't a great candidate, but he's not an orange piece of human excrement like your hero. Keep in mind that your President's been accused of sexual assault by seventeen women. Six of his businesses have gone bankrupt. He's been involved in over thirty-five thousand lawsuits. Christ, just look at his Twitter feed. He possesses the brains of a school yard bully. And you're going to cast your vote for him this year, aren't you? How, Bruce? Fucking how?"
"What?" asks Bruce. He was staring down at his phone during Robin's outburst, and has just now realized that he's been asked a question.
"I bet you can't even define what a communist is," says Robin dismissively.
"A communist is somebody who wants a handout and a handjob without doing any work. He's the kind of person who spits on soldiers and throws babies in the dumpster. He's got glasses and noodle arms. He's probably a vegan and on the fence about his sexuality. His girlfriend hits him in the balls whenever she wants, and he apologizes."
"Where do you come up with these caricatures?" asked Robin. "You did not describe a real person. That's a goddamn cartoon character, Bruce."
"You're a goddamn cartoon character, Robin! Look at you in your slacks and sweater vest. You look like a goddamn political officer! Where's your armband? Where's the hammer and sickle?"
Batman makes a grab for Robin, but he is too slow. He stumbles into a suit of armor and roars. The halls echo with his senseless exclamations. Robin makes his exit and sighs. He has a couple of friends that need a roommate. Wayne Manor is no longer a welcoming place.
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