Bale-inator [ #Wattys2017 ]

Chapter Eleven

(Hour 24)

The time had come.

Christian Bale had finally woken up.

"Where am I?" he groggily moaned, his sexy morning voice surrounding them as the sunlight warmed their bodies.

"Batman, Batman!" Everard called, running over to him. Blackley followed her, her arms flailing behind her.

"Do I know you ladies?" he asked, completely dumbfounded that he wasn't alone.

"Sit your ass down and listen up." Blackley screamed at the top of her lungs, grabbing the attention of everyone in the apartment complex. "We're going to give you the most inspirational pep talk of the century, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," he grumbled, rubbing the morning sleepiness from his pretty eyeballs.

"Listen up, pretty boy. You are in a state of confusion. You don't know who you are or where you are. But you know what? That's okay. Why? Because none of us know who we are or where we are." Everard nodded with confirmation.

"We don't know why we were put here," she continued. "We just know that we are here; we exist. I understand that you have a persnonnality disorder. You have been trapped as the Batman for much too long, but we still care for you. You are our hero, our Batman. But because of this entrapment, you no longer know who you truly are. So here we are to tell you that you can be whoever you want. You do you, boo!"

^ Ode to our outline once more with the word "persnonnality."

"I affirm this statement."

"Wow, ladies," he breathed, his chest heaving with awe. "I don't know what to say... or do I?"

"Oh geez," Everard grumbled. "I think he's gonna turn into Hamman again..."

#SoliloquyTime