TOMMY:.

Holy s.h.i.t.

DAVE:.

Stop texting. Tryin to poo.

Dwayne handed his phone to one of the cops. "Thanks," he said, offering a thumbs-up. "You guys were great today."

Dwayne was promptly tackled, Tasered, and handcuffed.

Detective Loffland greeted Dwayne in one of the interrogation rooms a couple of hours after he was stuffed into the back of a police car. Dwayne was still handcuffed and wearing everything but the mask and gloves from his Batman costume. He sat at a small metal table, rubbing the black ink on his hands-hands that had just been fingerprinted.

The detective took the seat across from Dwayne. The overhead light was reflecting brightly off Loffland's bald head. Dwayne pretended to be blinded by it momentarily in an attempt to elicit a laugh. It didn't work.

"h.e.l.lo, Dwayne," Detective Loffland said without a hint of a smile.

"h.e.l.lo, Detective," Dwayne replied.

"Dwayne, do you understand why you're here right now?"

"Was it for criticizing Jerry Jones?" Dwayne queried sarcastically. "Because I was just saying what everyone else is thinking!"

Detective Loffland stared at Dwayne. He didn't look amused. Dwayne was beginning to wonder if his rapport with the detective was dwindling.

"Dwayne, you just had forty-three police cars and eleven police motorcycles chasing you from city to city. You were reaching speeds in excess of one hundred and sixty MPH while smoking dope and wearing a superhero costume."

The detective paused, waiting for Dwayne to defend himself. He didn't.

"Here's the thing, Dwayne. I like you, okay? You seem like a good dude. But you embarra.s.sed the city today, and you put the lives of my men at risk. Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Dwayne took his time before answering. He knew he had to do this right. He figured there was a distinct possibility that his midmorning drive might have drawn too much unnecessary attention to himself, and he worried that the detective might be onto him.

"I apologize for putting the officers' lives in danger," Dwayne began. "I also apologize if I made the city look bad. That wasn't my intention. I've just been dealing with a lot of a.s.sholes lately, sir. I wanted to blow off some steam. So, I hopped on the highway, hit the gas pedal hard, and sparked up a joint."

"In a Batman costume."

"Yes."

"Does that strike you as ... odd, Dwayne?"

"No sir. I love Batman."

"Well, I love Spider-Man, but you don't see me throwing on G.o.dd.a.m.n red and blue tights and jumping rooftop to rooftop. Sweet Jesus, Dwayne."

"I understand, sir. Probably a bad call."

"Yeah. Probably."

The detective leaned back in his chair and exhaled. He placed his hands on his forehead, and slid them all the way over the top of his head. Then he did something Dwayne didn't expect.

Detective Loffland giggled.

He immediately tried to conceal it and act tough again, but the giggles kept coming back. It was a really high-pitched, funny giggle too. It was like an Anderson Cooper giggle. When he'd try to trap it in his mouth, it would find its way out his nose.

Detective Loffland finally gave in to it. His face turned bright red. He doubled over and just kept giggling.

And it was contagious, too. Soon Dwayne began to giggle. Two more officers came in to find out what was going on, and they started giggling. Before long, there were ten cops, one detective, and Batman, all in a tiny interrogation room laughing their ever-loving a.s.ses off.

"I told you he's a good sumb.i.t.c.h, boys!" Detective Loffland said to the others. "Oh, man ... This is one for the record books!"

One of the cops unhooked Dwayne's handcuffs. Another handed him a cup of coffee and a breakfast m.u.f.fin.

Estelle walked in a few moments later, quietly watching Dwayne and the officers joke about the police chase. She couldn't believe it.

Dwayne looked over at Estelle and winked.

"He's such a bada.s.s!" she said to herself.

"Oh, brother," one of the officers exclaimed. "You know Jerry Jones is gonna be catching some s.h.i.t about you for a while!"

"Yeah, man!" another shouted out. "Thank you for saying it!"

"Even Batman hates Jerry!" a third officer yelled.

After a round of backslapping, Detective Loffland held up a hand to calm the room.

"Okay, okay, okay," he said. "Now Dwayne, I'm gonna have to write you a couple of tickets. I can let the weed thing slide, and I'll throw out what I can, but this still ain't gonna be cheap, buddy."

"I understand," Dwayne replied. "You guys have been very cool. It's refreshing to meet good people. I meet way too many a.s.sholes."

"Well, it was a nice diversion from trying to find some crazy band of serial killers," the detective said, holding Dwayne's gaze. "And for that, we thank you. So why don't you and your lovely wife go sign the release papers, and the other officers and I will get back to the business of catching killers."

"Yes, sir," Dwayne said, standing up. He gave yet another firm handshake to the detective. He then shook hands with the other officers. He felt like a celebrity.

Several officers made cracks when Dwayne walked out the door.

"Keep it real, Batman!"

"Watch out for the Joker!"

"Be watching the sky for the Bat-Signal! We may need you!"

Dwayne and Estelle headed home after spending another hour filling out legal paperwork. Dwayne burst out in giggle fits several times on his drive home. The two of them had barely made it through their front door before Estelle slammed Dwayne against the entryway wall.

"I don't think I've ever wanted you more," she said as she ripped her top off.

Estelle handed Dwayne his mask and instructed him to put it on. She then began to unhook his bright yellow Official Batman Utility Belt and pull his rubber pants down.

"Give it to me, Batman," she growled. "Give it to me now."

The baseball game the following evening went exactly as Dwayne expected, with the Tigers easily clutching a victory. The outcome of the game, however, was the only thing that had gone according to plan.

The entire country had become fascinated with Dwayne. Media vans and reporters camped out in his front yard, following his every move. Their local little league baseball game inadvertently became a nationally televised event. There were easily a thousand people in attendance. Everyone wanted to know who this rebellious outlaw Batman guy was.

Overnight, Dwayne had captured the hearts and minds of Americans. He was a regular dad who loved coaching baseball, and he'd had enough of the bulls.h.i.t. He'd decided to take a stand against it. His att.i.tude resonated with the average working-cla.s.s Joe. Several fans wore Batman masks to show their support.

After the game, the crowd roared for the Tigers as they shook their opponents' hands. Dwayne somehow managed to keep his team focused for the postgame speech, which wasn't easy. Camera flashes illuminated the ballpark from all angles. Dwayne needed to pump his boys up for the next game and make sure their eyes remained on the prize.

"No one took you seriously, men," Dwayne addressed the team. "No one took you seriously as athletes. No one took you seriously as baseball players. No one took you seriously as soldiers. No one took you seriously as fighters. And I know how you feel."

Dwayne paced before them. He stole glances at each boy, as was his custom. He wanted every player engaged in what was being said.

"No one took me seriously either. No one took me seriously about doing what was right if we wanted this team to win. No one took me seriously when I said this team was fierce, and had the talent to win it all. No one took me seriously. No one. But I want to ask you ..."

Dwayne turned and pointed to the scoreboard, displaying a score of 172. Cameras flashed wildly from beyond the fences.

"Do you think they take us seriously now?"

"YES, SIR!" they all screamed in unison, throwing their arms in the air.

"Do they know you're athletes now?"

"YES, SIR!"

"Do they know you're fighters now?"

"YES, SIR!"

"Do they know you're soldiers now?"

"YES, SIR!"

"You're G.o.dd.a.m.n right they do," he said proudly. "It was a mistake to underestimate us, men. It was a huge mistake. And it was a mistake the Mariners won't make again. They're going to come out swinging on Sat.u.r.day, men. And have no doubt about one thing: this will be the toughest game you've ever played. They'll play ugly. They'll play dirty. They'll play hard. But it won't matter, because we're going to do what the Tigers do ... and what is it that the Tigers do?"

"TIGERS KILL!"

"What do they do?"

"TIGERS KILL!"

"One more time, everybody in, on three."

"One, two, three ... TIGERS KILL!!!"

The players walked toward the dugout and grabbed their bags. The media flooded the field and surrounded the boys and their parents, especially Coach Dwayne and his a.s.sistants. All of the parents who had once been critical of Dwayne now gave high praise, as if they'd supported his coaching style all along. Everyone was now Dwayne's best friend.

Dwayne managed to pay absolutely zero attention to the reporters' endless barrage of questions. All he could think of was the championship. Reporters trailed Dwayne and his family on all sides to the parking lot. Dwayne made sure to hold Estelle's hand and kept his other arm around Alex. He tucked the two of them into Estelle's car and kissed Estelle through her window.

"I'll be home shortly, babe," he said with a wink. "My a.s.sistant coaches and I need to strategize."

Dwayne scanned the crowd for his crew as Estelle and Alex drove off. Russ, Tommy, and Steve all began to make their way toward him. He continued to ignore the press as a litany of queries was hurled his way.

The four coaches all high-fived each other as they came together at the rear of Dwayne's Audi. He opened the trunk and the guys all reached into a cooler, pulling out ice-cold cans of beer and popping them open. Russ dug around in his pocket for a moment, then whipped out a ma.s.sive joint and proceeded to light it.

A reporter interrupted. "Excuse me, sir," he queried Russ. "I'm Ed Zarecky, with the KFWI News Team. Can I get your name?"

Russ ignored the interruption and took a long pull from the joint, sucking until his face turned red and his eyes crossed.

"That's Russ Paisley," Tommy responded to the reporter with a big smile. "He's a money manager, financial advisor, and G.o.dless rapist heathen. He's also a deacon at the Westside Church of Jesus. Can I get an amen?"

The reporter's eyes went wide at the revelation. He looked around at his fellow journalists to see if they'd gotten the scoop as well.