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It was a dark and stormy night. Mr. and Ms. Wayne were heading home from a beautiful night at the opera. They had gone to see Phantom of the Opera, which I’m told is good but I’ve never seen it. As they left the theatre, Mr.Wayne turned to his wife.
“You know darling, life has been so hum drum recently that I thought we could have a little adventure-- just you and I” Mr. Wayne said, taking her arm with his in a gentlemanly fashion. Ms. Wayne gave a slight giggle and looked up at her husband through her eyelashes.
“What did you have in mind, handsome?” She said sweetly. Mr. Wayne gave her a devious smile.
“Instead of calling our chauffeur to pick us up in our absolutely bitchin’ limo, we could walk home in the dankest most isolated alleyway we could possibly find” Said Mr. Wayne, excitement twinkling in his eyes.
“Oh Mr. Wayne!” exclaimed Ms. Wayne. “I thought you would never ask!”
So they left the theatre in pursuit of their goal. It didn’t take them very long since Gotham has a serious infrastructure and crime problem. As they entered the alleyway, all was peaceful. They both remarked that it was the dankest and more isolated place they had ever trod, and they loved it. But as they walked hand in hand through the gloom, they heard a twig snap behind them.
***
Bruce had spent the evening alone with his butler, Michael Caine. This was often the case for Bruce on a Friday evening, as his parents really had a thing for dressing up in their finest attire and going to the opera. He would often be instructed to spend this time learning the piano or some other elitist pursuit.
“I’m sick of these elitist pursuits!” Yelled Bruce, suddenly slamming the keyboard and scaring the shit out of Michael Caine.
“Kid, it sounds like you need something to calm the nerves” Said Michael Caine, crossing the room. “Here, have a drink.”
“I’m 12.” Said Bruce
Michael Caine shrugged and took a sip of the drink himself. It was a martini, with a gross slimy little olive. Ew.
“I’m going to my room” Said Bruce, dejectedly walking down the hall. Michael Caine hardly noticed as he ruminated quietly on why the fuck anybody would eat an olive.
In his room, Bruce contemplated his life. Every day was the same. Wake up, be treated like a baby all day, and practice elitist pursuits. He wanted more from his life! Couldn’t he live a little, just once? It was then he decided that he would sneak out, explore the town while his parents couldn't be there to hold him back. He opened his window on to the bougie fire escape that like everyone in the movies gets to be sad on. He walked down all 37 flights of stairs thinking how anti-climatic his big escape must look from the ground.
Once on the street, Bruce made out in the first direction he saw. He felt so naughty being out like this. He giggled to himself, feeling like a fucking madlad. He kept on going feeling a giddiness he had never felt before. When he turned the corner, he had no idea he was walking into the like, 3rd most sad superhero backstory that I can think of.
***
As Mr. and Ms. Wayne looked back to see who had snapped a twig in a completely concrete alleyway, they saw a figure emerge from behind the dumpster.
“Ha Ha! Tis I, The Fly! Who dares walk in front of me with such obvious wealth adorning them?” Said a figure, holding a broken twig in his hands.
Mr. and Ms. Wayne froze, looking at their new company suspiciously. They didn’t like, run away or anything which is, I think, the first plot hole of this story.
“Did you just snap a twig in your hands to make your entrance more ominous?" Asked Mr. Wayne. The figure shrugged and smiled, looking at them as if to say "well, didn't it?".
"You know wh- nevermind. We are simply passing through, sir, we mean you no harm” Said Ms. Wayne.
“Harm? To me? Oh no, certainly not. Although my name is The Fly, you’re the ones who are about to eat shit!” And he pulled out a gun and fucking ganked em.
Down the alleyway, Bruce screamed “No!” kinda like how Simba did in the Lion King. The Fly startled, looking at the boy for the first time. Bruce gave The Fly such an Edward Cullen death stare the the The Fly only had time to grab the easiest piece of wealth he could from Mr. and Ms. Wayne’s dying forms before he ran in terror. He yanked at the pearl necklace away from the neck of Ms. Wayne, but the pearls flew comically into the air. Cussing, the Fly booked it out of there.
“Come back and fight me you coward!” Yelled Bruce, running swiftly after him. He lost sight of The Fly just as his feet slipped upon one of his mothers pearls, landing him flat on his face. He tried to get to his feet, but he knew The Fly was long gone. Instead, he rushed to his parents' sides, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Wow, you really fucking beefed it there son” His dad said.
“I need you to know that I can take absolutely zero criticism right now” replied Bruce
“How could this have possibly gone so wrong?” wailed Ms. Wayne, slowly bleeding out.
“Mother, Father! I can save you!” cried Bruce, trying to stop the bleeding.
“It’s no use son, the narrator has our deaths planned. I’m sure of it.” Said Mr. Wayne faintly, laying his head down upon the cold cement.
“Make sure this doesn’t turn you goth” said Ms. Wayne, weakly taking her son's hand. “Remember son, I-” but she didn’t finish. She exhaled her last breath, and her husband followed quickly behind.
Bruce stared in shock at his parents, cursing his mother for leaving him on a mega fucking cliffhanger.