Filmography, you deprived soul.

I’ve only seen elf, and a very little bit of Yes man…and I’ve heard of 500 days of summer…besides that, nada.

What is wrong with you?

I’ve lived under a rock my entire life…

Specifically, this rock.

I’ll admit, that is a nice rock.

Yeah, but it kinda stinks, ‘cause…ya’ know, no air conditioning. I mean, if it weren’t for the waterfall not too far from it, which I can control the temperature of through sheer willpower, I probably would have found a different rock a LOOOONG time ago.

Yeah, I’d imagine. Ever try a cave?

Once, but there was a wierd guy in it dressed as a bat. He nearly took my head off, so, I’ve decided to stay away from caves.

That was you? So sorry, didn’t mean to frighten ya.

Yeah that was me. And what was up with the whole running around and screaming, “WHERE ARE THEY?” and “I’M THE *BLEEPITY BLEEP* BATMAN!”

Rough day.

I see, wanna talk about it? It might make you feel better.

It’s a long and complicated story involving bats and 3 spoons.

Now I really want to know…and, are you sure it was three spoons, and not four?

What happened:

I was adventuring in the woods one day, taking in the fresh Missouri air. It was a clear day - not a cloud in the sky and a modest 70 degree temperature. Expecting to be out for some time, I packed with me several cans of beenie weenies and 3 metal spoons (extras just in case) in a small backpack. After a few hours of trekking, I stumbled upon an unusual sight: a cave! In the middle of the woods, of all places. Stricken with cat-like curiosity, I ventured forth to the cave, incredulous at the whole situation. I look inside, and it is expectedly dark and wet, but it looked deep. I decided to go inside, using my handy dandy phone as a flashlight.

Bats. Bats everywhere. Unlike some people, I do not fear them, but the view of black, rat sized creatures covering the ceiling was a bit jarring. They did not move. After a few moments to ponder my next move, I decided to use this a method to work up my bravery and continued on.

The rest of the cave was underwhelming. Dark, damp, dull. Aside from the bats dotting the ceiling - the small amount of sunlight glistening in their tiny eyes, it was like the cave had it’s own starry night sky - there was nothing else to see. I reached the apparent end of the not-all-that-deep cave and turned around. A dark object flew at my face, and black enveloped my sight.

My eyes opened, but my sight had not yet returned. Blurry eyed, I looked around. Using the little light that was around, I tried to identify where I was, how long I had been there, and whether or not ice cream tastes better when completely frozen or slightly melted. A dark blob of an object dropping in front of me snapped me back from idle thought. And… it spoke!

“You,” the blob started. It had the voice of Laurence Fishburne for whatever reason, “are known as the Answerman out in the daylight.”

“I suppose,” I responded, baffled.

He began to emphasize every few words with a shout. “HENCEFORTH, you SHALL be known as the MAN of the BATS.”

“Batman?”

“Whatever,” he said, and flew off.

I responded to the whole ordeal with a flat “Huh,” and stood up. As I regained my balance and sight, there was a moderately loud CA-SHPLANK by my feet. I looked down to see…

Darkness. It was dark. I’m in a cave. I reached in to my pocket and grabbed my phone. I flipped it open and aimed the screen to the location of the sound, and there it was: One of my cans of beenie weenies. My joy of finally being able to answer what the sound a half open can of beenie weenies makes when it hits a rock floor was overshadowed by my sorrow of losing a beloved treat. Then that was overshadowed by me remembering I had more.

Recalling that one time I played a text based adventure game, I observed my surroundings. My phone’s minimal light illuminated the fact that the bats were gone. The entrance was nowhere in sight. I was hungry.

I slid my bag around in front of me and reached inside for a can and a spoon. I came out with a can. Something was missing. Quick deduction skills I learned from the pretty decent Sherlock Holmes movie told me that the spoons were not there. I nearly screamed.

I collapsed to the floor below me and curled up in to a pitiful ball. I rocked back and forth as the sudden realization of my predicament came to me: I was trapped in a cave with two cans of beenie weenies and no spoons. I feared starvation.

Days, perhaps even weeks, passed as I walked through the cave in search of a way out. My phone had died, so I was walking blind. The cans clanked together in my bag, taunting me with their deliciousness that I cannot access. It was insult to injury, though I was not injured. My knee felt a bit sore though.

More days passes. I stopped searching. I sat against the cave wall and just stared in to the darkness and let the madness envelop me.

After an undefined amount of time, I hear a voice. My eyes shot open. I stood up and walked towards the source. Oddly enough, it led me to the cave entrance not far from where I sat. I would later discover that I had been literally walking around in circles.

I see a figure silhouetted against the daylight. And them a rather girly scream. It was then that I realized I was covered in the previously thought gone bats. They had formed their bodies around mine, creating a convincing bat costume that is admittedly pretty freaking disturbing. At this point, I lose it, and I start yelling whatever comes to my head.

“I AM THE-” I was interrupted by a weird BLEEPITY BLEEP noise. “-BATMAN.”

The person continued screaming, but they didn’t turn and run. As if they were in some horror movie or something.

I remembered my spoons. “WHERE ARE THEY?” I continued yelling, now running towards the figure.

Unsurprisingly, they screamed louder and ran off. I decided not to follow, and instead retreated back in to the cave. I would not leave without my spoons.