She mocked a gasp, clutching her chest. “Fuck off, Batman isn’t a male pussy. He’s a goddamn genius. He has no super power whatsoever – no weird alterations in his chromosomes, no inhaling poisonous gasses… all he has is his brain to help him out. Come on, he made all his weapons and shit on his own. How badass is that.” But then she paused. “Though, I’d take turtle over bats any day. Ninja Turtles are where it’s at, babe.”
Kicking the refrigerator door closed, she leaned back against it idly, arms crossed as she took another swing of the milk. Licking the white mustache that had formed over upper lip, she said, “That ain’t so bad. My last date was over a century ago.” Tilting the carton and offering it to him, her lips pursed and abruptly said, “Let’s go on a date,” so nonchalantly like she was saying the sky was blue or water was wet.