Letters To The Boy (Narrative)
Jack pranced around the City, gleefully holding a can of spray paint in the most obnoxious color of green he could find. He'd been going around all day leaving little notes for his beloved Son. The sweet, darling protege he'd created. The spawn of his machinations. The seed of his... well. Not his loins. Brains didn't have seed as far as he knew, but that's where the little tyke had sprung from.
The notes didn't make a lot of sense to the outside world. They weren't all enormous either. Just a smile here, and exclamation point there. Maybe a glorious green sign shouting "GOOD JOB!" or "Daddy loves you!" Anything to urge the little guy on in his horrors.
He sprayed one now that stated "Remember Gray Dick!" hoping that the little Robin was still in, or back in, town. Wanting the boy to have a go at him. Scar him up. Destroy him a little bit.
Jack's hands were covered in green. It reminded him of when he'd spray painted the penii on the walls oh, so long ago. The silent conversation with Big Dark And Broody who was not a Batfuck of any kind. What a strange time that had been. Had it really been that far in the past?
"Razors for everybody!" Jack painted on a park bench and skipped away.
"Water's good for many things!" on the side of a little girl's wagon. She began to cry, and Jack patted her head and stole her lolly, then moved on.