Batbroad – The Plastified Version

by

Tom diCentauri

         The following is a rewritten, altered (as in altered state of consciousness), Bizarro-ized version of “Batbroad”, which was conceived, written, and drawn by our own Lord and Master, the Sandman’s jolly apprentice, Mr X.

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         On a warm, still summer night, under the light of a full moon, Batbroad (aka the Dynamic Dimbo – TdC) snuck through the formal gardens of the mansion to which she had traced her archenemy, Lady Delicious. She pressed herself against the trunk of a large tree and peered around the tree at the mansion, looking for a way to get into the place. She was wearing her Batbikini, whose top resembled a bat spreading its wings across her 40-DD breasts, her Batboots, and her Batmask, which looked like a small bat spread across her eyes to hide her true identity. Unfortunately, the skimpy outfit left acres of pale pink flesh to be illuminated by the light coming from the full moon (Yeah, ninja-like stealth is not one of her strong points – TdC). But Batbroad’s mind was focused on other matters.

         That sleazy, wicked woman has gotten away from me for the last time, she gloated in her mind. To think that she tried to outwit me, the greatest heroine of all, is to laugh. And she let out a quiet little laugh.

         She made her way to the house and found easy entry. There was effectively no security on the place and Batbroad was convinced that even a child could have entered the place without being detected. Now, even moderately competent superheroines know that when entry is easy, it’s likely the entry to a trap, but Batbroad is not a moderately competent superheroine.

         She came into an empty antechamber with four doors leading off it. She was trying to decide which door to try first when she was hit with a flying tackle. A man slammed into her back with the full weight of his body and as she went down he clamped his hands down on her more-than-ample bosom.

         “Hah! Gotcha Batbitch!” he said as he took her down. “Hey, guys,” he yelled, “we got us a new Batbroad punching bag!”

         The doors sprang open and five more of Lady Delicious’s henchgoons leaped into the room. They gathered around the first goon and began pummeling Batbroad. Rather, they tried to begin pummeling her. True, she had no superpowers and no special abilities. Indeed, the impression she gives is that she is a parody of a superheroine, intended only to star in pornographic fantasies. But, like the low-class, trailer-park bimbo that she is, she can fight like an ass-whacked she-cat.

         It took only fifteen minutes. Six goons lay unconscious on the floor and Batbroad, breathing heavily from her exertion, stood over them with her left foot resting on one goon’s butt. In the fight she had lost her bra, so she stood with her bare breasts displayed.

         “Pathetic,” she muttered. “You actually tried to take down Batbroad. You just don’t know me.”

         Suddenly a strong left hand clamped a moist cloth over her mouth and nose while a right arm wrapped around her body under her breasts and pulled her off balance.

         “I think they will know you soon enough,” a smooth, evil-sounding voice said into her right ear as she struggled. “You’re doomed, Batbroad,” the woman said. “There’s a delicious reason I call this my Rope-a-Dope Gang.”

         Batbroad barely heard her. When the cloth had come down on her face, her startled gasp had huffed a heavy dose of chloroform vapor deep into her lungs. She tried to hold her breath as she twisted in Lady Delicious’s embrace, trying to escape, but that only made her weaken more rapidly. As Lady Delicious performed her capture dance, keeping Batbroad off balance, Batbroad felt her legs wobbling. She felt a blush of humiliation as she went down on her knees. Lady Delicious knelt down with her and, as Batbroad’s eyes rolled up in their sockets, it was the crime queen’s leering face that was the last thing that Batbroad saw before slipping into unconsciousness.

        She dreamed that she was in a boxing ring. She was pounding an inflated plastic punching bag that bore the life-sized image of Lady Delicious. She heard the audience chanting “Rope-a-Dope” over and over. She remembered that the boxer Muhammad Ali had employed what he called his rope-a-dope, in which he leaned back against the ropes and allowed his opponent to attack him and thereby exhaust himself, making him easy prey for Ali. Batbroad looked out over the audience and looked back and saw that the image on the punching bag was that of her.

         As she regained consciousness she felt that her wrists had been tied together behind her back with a soft cord. Her boots and bra had already been removed; she retained only her bikini bottom and her mask. She groaned as she came fully conscious.

         Strong, firm hands lifted her up and set her on her feet. She was still wobbly, but she would not fall: her captress, completely naked, embraced her from behind, pressing huge breasts against her back and both squeezing and feeling up her own breasts. Looking around, she saw that she was in one of the mansion’s guest bedrooms, one decorated, in part, by an inflated punching bag that had a life-sized image of herself printed on the opaque-yellow plastic.

         “Mmm, delicious,” Lady Delicious said. “Yes, I believe that I’m going to enjoy playing with you. But first, let’s check out the goods.” She pulled Batbroad’s bikini bottom down and let it slip to the floor. She ran her hands over Batbroad’s body, feeling her thighs and her belly and her buttocks.

         “Oh, you’re such a healthy young girl!” Lady Delicious said with a laugh as she slid her right hand into Batbroad’s crotch. She put her mouth next to Batbroad’s right ear and said softly, “Let’s see how hot I can get you.” She began stroking Batbroad’s labia and clitoral hood.

         “Unh... get your hands off of me!” Batbroad demanded. She tried to squirm away from Lady Delicious, but the villainess pulled her backward and sat down in a chair, holding Batbroad in her lap. “No... no... don’t,” Batbroad cried. “No, please. Don’t make me do this.” Batbroad begged. As her nipples and clitoris stiffened under Lady Delicious’s ministrations Batbroad herself softened.

         Lady Delicious began kissing Batbroad’s neck. “Oh, my dear delicious Batbroad, don’t resist my love. You are my helpless prisoner and I can do whatever I want with you. Be a good girl and give in to me. Imagine what it will be like when I take you to bed with me and make you my sex slave. Won’t that be delicious?”

         Batbroad lost all control of herself. She convulsed in Lady Delicious’s embrace and she felt her vulva pulsate as she climaxed long and hard. She let out a series of quavery grunting squeals as Lady Delicious continued to kiss her neck and caress her breasts. When she was exhausted she went limp in her captress’s lap.

         Lady Delicious pushed Batbroad to her feet and got up behind her. She then pushed her prisoner down onto the guest bedroom’s bed, rolled her onto her back, and then used cords to tie her ankles to the posts at the foot of the bed. With Batbroad lying with her legs spread, Lady Delicious turned out the light, then laid herself down on top of Batbroad.

         “No, please,” Batbroad moaned as she felt Lady Delicious press her erect clitoris against her right thigh.

         Lady Delicious silenced her by the simple expedient of kissing her lips. Then she began to move her hips, rubbing her clitoris against Batbroad’s thigh. Soon Lady Delicious was panting and letting out little grunts with each thrust of her hip. With her left cheek on Batbroad’s, she embraced her prisoner and bounced even more vigorously on her, rubbing her own right thigh against Batbroad’s vulva. Quavery squeals came from both women and they seemed to go into convulsions together, bucking and writhing against each other as they climaxed.

         Soon it was over and the two women lay panting together. Their breathing slowed and Lady Delicious whispered, “Mine, forever”, and then dozed off. Lady Delicious slept on Batbroad for the remainder of the night, awakening several times to masturbate on her again.

         In the morning, after playing with Batbroad one more time, Lady Delicious untied Batbroad’s ankles and took her to the mansion’s kitchen. She put a plastic kitchen apron on her prisoner and fed her. She slipped the yoke over Batbroad’s head and then lifted her hair to let the doubled plastic strip rest on her neck. Silk-soft and skin-smooth, the plastic draped loosely down Batbroad’s front and conformed to Batbroad’s curves when Lady Delicious pulled the ties behind Batbroad’s back and slip-knotted them together. Batbroad noticed that there were yellow and red-orange fireworks type starbursts printed on the transparent-gray plastic.

         Lady Delicious sat Batbroad down in a chair and tied her down and then set a plate of what looked like bite-sized brownies in front of her. “Eat and enjoy,” she said, then she patted Batbroad on the shoulder and left.

         Batbroad was immediately suspicious. Even though she hadn’t eaten since the previous evening, she would not eat the brownies. But as the minutes elapsed she developed an intense craving for them. She convinced herself that it wouldn’t hurt to taste just one of them, so she leaned forward and nibbled at the brownie nearest to her. A few minutes later the plate was empty.

         Meanwhile, Lady Delicious had found Batbroad’s black Volkswagen, the Batbeetle, and had retrieved Batbroad’s transparent-black plastic raincape. She moved the Batbeetle into her garage, where she would keep it as a trophy. The raincape she took with her into the house. She felt hot inside as she thought of what she wanted to do with it.

         Returning to the mansion and coming into the kitchen, she found that her prisoner was ready for her. The drugged brownies had done their dastardly work, leaving Batbroad docile and obedient. As she untied Batbroad, Lady Delicious whispered instructions into her ear.

         It took a week. During the day Lady Delicious kept Batbroad in a guest bedroom and brought her food that would keep her docile and also plump her up like an inflatable doll. At night Lady Delicious took Batbroad into the shower with her and played with her, then took her to bed and played with her some more.

         At last the day came when Lady Delicious decided that her special prisoner was ready. Batbroad had been plumped up enough to look somewhat pneumatic. Instead of taking Batbroad back to her guest-bedroom prison, Lady Delicious took her into her spacious bathroom. There Batbroad was made to put on a bouffant beret-style shower cap made of transparent-black plastic. Puffed out by her raven-black hair, its plastic sheen made her look as if her face were framed by a soft halo.

         Given a special dose of docilizer, Batbroad felt a growing desire to please her captress. Her nipples and clitoris swelled and stiffened at the thought of making Lady Delicious happy. She put her hands against her thighs and watched in eager anticipation as her captress, her owner, picked up a shiny metal tube.

         Lady Delicious pulled on the tube and Batbroad saw a short rod emerge from it. Starting at the handle, the rod seemed to become increasingly transparent toward its tip and then become downright etherial, as if the tip didn’t fully exist. Breathing heavily, as if sexually aroused, Lady Delicious sauntered around to Batbroad’s left side and then touched the tip to Batbroad’s neck an inch below and behind her left ear.

         Batbroad felt as if air were being blown into her and making her entire body expand. Her skin felt as if it were stretching, as if she were being overinflated. She felt her nipples and clitoris swell and stiffen more than she had ever felt before, felt her heart pounding with raw sexual desire. She felt as if she were about to pop. Then suddenly she heard a loud whump and the sensations of being overinflated went away and she climaxed long and hard.

         Her mind cleared and she recognized her captress as Dee Lee Shouse. With not even a millisecond of hesitation, she lunged and bounced off Dee’s fist as lightly as a beach ball. Landing on her feet, she attacked again, grabbing Dee around her waist, trying to take her down. She felt as if she had tried to take down a concrete pillar: she was stopped cold when she grabbed Dee. Then she felt Dee’s hands on her waist.

         Manipulating Batbroad easily, in spite of the kicking and thrashing, Dee pulled her off her waist and laid her face down on her bed. Using the soft cord that tied her bathrobe, she tied Batbroad’s hands behind her back. Then she lifted Batbroad off the bed and set her onto her feet. With her hand on Batbroad’s shoulder, she patted Batbroad’s bloated breasts. Batbroad heard a series of soft rubbery thumps and suddenly understood what had happened to her: she was now an inflated plastic doll.

         “Completely indestructible,” Lady Delicious gloated. “You’re going to be my blow-up toy forever! Won’t that be just so delicious?”

         “N-no,” Batbroad stammered, amazed that she could speak out loud. “H-how...?”

         Lady Delicious chuckled and flicked Batbroad’s cheek with her finger, getting a rubbery thump in response. “Taut plastic makes a fair loudspeaker,” she said, “and as long as I keep you fully inflated you will be taut. We’ll be able to talk and you can beg me for mercy. Won’t that be so magnificently delicious?”

         Without waiting for an answer, she went to her bed, reached under her pillow, and pulled out a package made of transparent-black plastic. She shook it out to reveal that it was Batbroad’s own raincape. As the silk-soft plastic swirled with Dee Lee’s movements, soft highlights danced gaily across the raincape. Then she put the raincape on Batbroad.

         “Oh, this looks so sexy on you,” Lady Delicious exclaimed as she stroked the skin-smooth plastic of Batbroad’s raincape and rubbed it against Batbroad’s bulging breasts. She took Batbroad in a full embrace and used her right hand to rub the raincape over Batbroad’s left buttock. Her breathing began to come deeper and faster. Then she kissed Batbroad and pulled away from her. “I love you,” she whispered, as if she were afraid to say it out loud.

         She put on her rubber bikini, pulling the soft pink rubber up around her waist. As she pulled it up she positioned the inner dildo to slide neatly into her vagina. She let the rubber snap against her hips. “Oh!” she squealed delightedly in response to the sting of rubber smacking her bare skin.

         Batbroad trembled inside. She moaned in dismay as she realized fully how helpless she was.

         “This is what I softened you up for,” Lady Delicious gloated. “You’ve been plastified for my hard dildo action!” She showed Batbroad the foot-long monstrosity rising and stiffening at the top of her crotch. Then she laid Batbroad down on her bed.

         “No,” Batbroad moaned. “You... you can’t. That thing... is too big!”

         “All the more reason to ram it deep into your delicious plastic cunt, my dear,” Lady Delicious said. She knelt between Batbroad’s legs, leaned forward to push her dildo into Batbroad’s vagina, then laid herself fully on her prisoner, pushing the dildo deep into Batbroad as she did so.

         “No, no, please,” Batbroad begged. She felt the dildo penetrate her, felt her vagina stretch, and felt her body in her lower belly seem to swell up. Instinctively she writhed and squirmed, trying, futilely of course, to escape from Lady Delicious. The penetration didn’t actually hurt. No, much worse, it was getting her hot. She let out a prolonged “AAAGHH!!!” as Lady Delicious rocked to and fro on her and pumped her to climax.

         “Mmmm, you feel so delicious when you’re hot,” Lady Delicious gloated. “Now don’t try to tell me you don’t like having a woman fucking you, Batslut.” With her elbows propped on the bed, she had her hands on Batbroad’s breasts and was stroking them as she pumped Batbroad and herself to another climax.

         “Unh, stop,” Batbroad said. “Stop. This is rape. Just get off of me. You can’t do this!”

         “It may not be legal, my dear,” Lady Delicious said, “but I can certainly do it. As you may have noticed,” she added as she kissed Batbroad, “I don’t concern myself with legal niceties. You are just my toy, so get used to it.” She pulled out of Batbroad then and dismounted her.

         “Are you through now?” Batbroad asked, as much in anxiety as in anger.

         “Oh, heavens, no,” Lady Delicious said as she rolled Batbroad over onto her stomach. “I have tested you from the front, now I want to see how well my special gift fits in your other end.”

         “What?! No! No, not there! You can’t.... No, you sick, vile witch!!” Desperately Batbroad tried to squirm away, but Lady Delicious simply held her down with one hand.

         “Oh, do hush, my dear,” Lady Delicious said as she straddled Batbroad and guided her dildo into Batbroad’s anus. “You’re so tight back here! I need to stretch you out a bit.” She leaned forward, laying herself onto her hapless victim and shoving her dildo deep into her. “Just need a bit more pressure here....”

         Batbroad let out a prolonged cry of indignation as she felt the sensations of defecating backward. She whimpered as Lady Delicious wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her head up while at the same time sliding her other hand into her crotch to rub her clitoris as she pumped her. Her breasts served as cushions as Lady Delicious bounced on her.

         For several hours Lady Delicious played with her new toy. She alternated between taking Batbroad from the front and from the rear. At last, lying belly-to-belly on her prisoner, she ran out of energy and dozed off.

         An hour later she woke up and got up off Batbroad. She took off her rubber bikini and put on a fresh pair of panties. Then she sat Batbroad up on the edge of her bed, knelt between her legs, and kissed her thighs.

         “Wh... what are you doing?” Batbroad asked.

         “I want to ask you an important question,” Lady Delicious said and kissed her belly.

         “What?” Batbroad asked warily.

         “Oh, my dear Batbroad, will you marry me?” Lady Delicious asked. “Will you be my pretty plastic bride?”

         “Are you insane?!” Batbroad said. “No, never. Even if it were legal for two women to marry each other, I would never marry a woman, and certainly not one as evil as you.”

         “I... I’m heartbroken,” Lady Delicious said.

         Batbroad then heard a strange staccato sound, but couldn’t tell whether it came from her captress sobbing or laughing. In any case, Lady Delicious got up, put her hand on Batbroad’s back and pushed her out of the room. She guided her prisoner down the hall and pushed her into a guest bedroom. After positioning Batbroad by the bed, she left, closing the door behind her.

         As Batbroad stood alone in the guest bedroom she tried to free her hands from the cord that bound them behind her back. After all, if Houdini could do it, then there was no reason she couldn’t (actually, the inconvenient reason in this case is that Harry Houdini, unlike Batbroad, possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of bondage devices and years of practice in defeating them – TdC).

         Suddenly the door opened and Batbroad saw one of Lady Delicious’s goons come in and close the door behind him. He was wearing a tee shirt and shorts, although he still wore his executioner’s hood.

         “Oh, no!” Batbroad moaned.

         “Oh, yeah!” the goon enthused as he saw Batbroad wearing nothing but a transparent plastic raincloak. He grabbed her, held her close, and began running his hands over her. He fondled her breasts, her buttocks, her thighs. He put his hand where her crotch was and pushed the plastic of her raincloak into it. Then he pushed her down onto the bed and slid her raincloak up around her breasts.

         She knew that it would be futile to beg for mercy, because she knew that criminality is a form of mental retardation. Like almost all other criminals, Lady Delicious’s henchgoons all had the self-indulgent mentality of a two-year-old. Now they were going to throw a tantrum on the mommy who had tried to discipline them.

         “You sent me up da river, Bat-slut,” he said as he stood over her and took off his shirt and shorts. “And dis is how you’re gonna pay me fer my time.” He laid himself down on top of her and shoved his rigid penis into her vagina. “Wow, you got nice tits!” he said as he began pumping on her.

         She could only groan in dismay. Everything he did left her cold. He had not the faintest idea of how to get a woman hot. But the instant his penis began to shoot the goo she climaxed long and hard. She felt the muscle spasms in her crotch making her vulva pulsate as if trying to milk his penis for all it had and more.

         “Oh, yeah, you’re lovin’ it, ain’tcha, Bat-whore?” he gloated as he felt her squirming and writhing in his embrace. Then it was over and he lay on her for a minute to catch his breath. He got up off her and put his clothes back on, ignoring her as if she were merely a toy with which he had gotten bored.

         A minute after the first henchgoon left, another came into the room to have his fun with Batbroad. He took off his clothes, except for his executioner’s hood, and mounted the hapless woman.

         “I ain’t never fucked me a superheroine before,” he said (and he still “ain’t fucked him a superheroine” because, without superpowers or special abilities, Batbroad is technically not a superheroine – TdC). And fuck her he did.

         Hour after hour the henchgoons came to the guest bedroom to play with Batbroad. As far as they were concerned the inflated plastic woman on the bed was nothing more than a fucking bag for them to use as they saw fit. Moreover, they were all thugs that she had, at one time or another, sent to prison, so there was an element of revenge involved. As rude and as crude as they were, they brought her to climax after climax. She drifted into the realm of Delirium, the rampage of climaxes turning her into little more than a vegetable.

         She felt as if someone had put her into some kind of nightmare generator. Then it got worse.

         “I’m WHAT?!” she yelled.

         “Why, my dear Batbroad,” Lady Delicious said, “you seem surprised. Didn’t anyone teach you the facts of life?”

         “I know the facts of life,” Batbroad said in a voice tightening with fear. “But I’m a plastic doll. How could I possibly be pregnant? And w... with wh... what?”

         Lady Delicious put her left arm around Batbroad’s shoulders and patted her belly with her right hand. “I’m guessing that by the end of this week you will have a new Batbroad raincloak. Won’t that be just so delicious?”

         So every day, in the afternoon, the henchgoons got to play with Batbroad. And every day her belly swelled up a little more. And every night Lady Delicious seemed to get even hotter over her.

         She didn’t even make it through the second day before she finally had to admit to herself that being the bride of a lesbian witch was better than serving the goons as a sexual pincushion. It took all week for her to work up the strength to admit it to Lady Delicious. She was in the middle of giving birth to her new raincape, climaxing hard, writhing and squirming on the bed that she shared with her captress. When Lady Delicious asked again whether she wanted to get married, she cried out “Oh, yes!” over and over again.

         So the following week Batbroad got married to Lady Delicious in what was billed as the villainous wedding of the century. It was embarrassing; it was humiliating; it was a Bondage and Discipline wet dream. Of all the challenges Batbroad had ever faced just walking down the aisle was the greatest.

         Her bridal gown was simply a hoodless, ankle-length, full-skirted raincoat made of transparent-white plastic on which opaque-white lace patterns had been printed. Her bridal veil, extending down her back to her knees, was made of the same diaphanous material. Slave shackles that looked like they were made of plastic apron ties were used to bind her hands in front of her and to her ankles: she felt as if she were a prisoner being sentenced as much as she felt like a bride being married.

         The wedding was held in the mansion’s ballroom, where Lady Delicious’s friends had gathered, as much to gloat over the bride as to congratulate Lady Delicious on her triumph. Staring at her in awe, at what Lady Delicious had accomplished, villains that Batbroad had once easily sent up the river leered at her as she shuffled up the aisle to where Lady Delicious waited for her. As she moved, her plastic emitted soft swishing sounds. She stopped in front of The Jester, her greatest enemy, who had been chosen to conduct the ceremony.

         “If anyone knows why dese two women should not be joined in unholy matrimony,” The Jester said, “honk up now or forever shut your bazoo.”

         Suddenly a bright shimmering light filled the room and the air shuddered. “I know why,” a girlish voice called out.

         Batbroad’s heart leaped and hope swelled inside her. She was about to be rescued by Battle Sprite, the cutest, the lovablest, the sweetest, the prettiest and nicest superheroine of them all. She turned to watch Lady Delicious’s goons get what they deserved.

         Tinny music emanated from the speakers on Battle Sprite’s belt as her battle song played:

“Who defeats bad guys with a smile that’s bright?

Who goes after evil by day and by night?

Who’s super-cuteness takes down villains without a fight?

Why it’s the bestest heroine of all – Battle Sprite!”

         “Someone stop her!” Lady Delicious yelled.

         “Oh, you can’t stop me, you nasty ol’ villains,” Battle Sprite said. “You’ve all been very naughty,” she added, wagging her finger at them. “This is no way to treat a woman, so I’m just going to have to teach you all an important lesson in manners.”

         Lady Delicious looked at her hungrily. “And what makes you think that you can do that?” she asked.

         “I’m super-sweet and super-cute,” Battle Sprite said. “Cute people always win. See?” She smiled.

         A shock went through the room. The villains had their minds changed. Crude analogies with female dogs went away and the hapless goons saw her as a cute puppy.

         “Awww,” they moaned in unison.

         “Now you can just surrender and come peacefully,” Battle Sprite said.

         Unfortunately she failed to notice the goon returning from a quick visit to the restroom. He came up behind her and immediately fell under the spell emanating from Battle Sprite’s charm radiator.

         “Pet da puppy,” he moaned as he groped Battle Sprite from behind.

         “No, don’t!” she cried.

         But it was too late. In his rough, crude groping he had pulled the main wire out of her power pack. The charm radiator shut down and in no time at all Battle Sprite had been stripped naked, bound hand and foot with quarter-inch silk cords, and gagged with a rubber ball. Forced to kneel, she could only watch her friend being married off to the villainess.

         Completely broken in spirit, Batbroad barely heard the vows being read out. She merely bowed her head and sobbed, “I do.”

         Lady Delicious embraced her, hugged her, and kissed her. Then she just held her.

         Crying her heart out, Batbroad said, “I love you, Deli.” Then she simply stood and watched helplessly as Lady Delicious went to inspect her new toy.

         “Well, we seem to have a party favor,” Lady Delicious said as she reached down and patted Battle Sprite’s left breast.

         “Duh, I t’ink dat maybe we shouldn’t oughta be doin’ nothin’ t’ her,” one goon said.

         “And why not?” Lady Delicious demanded to know.

         “Well, you know,” the goon said as he concentrated on scuffing the floor with the toe of his boot. “She’s sorta... not... ya know... like... legal.”

         “Duh, yeah, Boss,” the other goons agreed.

         Lady Delicious made a mental note to hire a higher quality of goons... if she could ever find any.

         Lady Delicious quickly found Battle Sprite’s car, the Battlewagon, and retrieved her ID, which proved that she was, in fact, “legal”, and her transparent-white plastic raincoat. The car was then spirited into a well-hidden chop shop so that it could disappear completely.

         Docilized, Battle Sprite sat in Lady Delicious’s guest bedroom. Soon she will be ready and Lady Delicious will plastify her. Then she will be added to Lady Delicious’s plastic harem. And the goons will have a nice new toy to play with.

         So is this the end for Batbroad and Battle Sprite? Heh, heh, heh. What do you think?

-o-0-o-