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Son of Croc #1
I am well aware of the fact that the lives of myself and the other Gotham rogues are dramatised in numerous graphic novels published around the world, so as a budding writer and artist myself, I thought I would explore a dramatic story of my own creation.
In this story, Killer Croc has fathered a child to Poison Ivy. This first volume explores the deep emotional shock that can come from such a reveal, and the ways in which it would change the lives of all involved. It’s a sensitive issue, so I was careful to handle it gently and with a great deal of respect to people who may have found themselves in a similar position.
I was also wary of ensuring that all characters remain true to the versions of them portrayed in the graphic novels, but as you can see, I also made an effort to flesh out the Poison Ivy character a little more than we often get to see.
I hope you enjoy this first edition that has been several months in the making. I haven’t gone to a publisher yet, but it would certainly be my hope for this story to be shared with a global audience eventually, as I think the themes raised by the novel are universal.
Oh my, indeed. I’ve been keeping you captive here for just 30 minutes and you’ve already grown stubble. You’re quite a man, Batman. I’m about to fill the room with fear toxin, but I’ll also bring you a razor. You can’t say I’m not a gracious host.
That’s the third year in a row that Batman has interrupted our annual ScarecrowCon, where like-minded people come together to wear sacks on their heads, talk about psychology and maybe abduct and kill a couple of people along the way. Though I have to admit, he really thought outside the box with his cosplay.
Ehh…..no mas? Mi chiamo Scarecrow? I’m sorry, I have no idea how I ended up in your country, or what language everyone is speaking. And I’m sorry that I offended your president, but I was informed that “grande stupido asino” was a compliment.
Please let me down. It’s raining and if my mask gets wet it shrinks.
Really, students? You jump out of your skin when I shoot a flower pot? Who are you, Poison Ivy? You kids are carrying on like I just shot one of my psychology students, and that’s not until next week’s class.
Coordination is not my skill? Not my skill? Someone clearly didn’t see me on last season’s Dancing with the Rogues? Would someone without coordination have scored 10, 9, 9 and 10 for their waltz? No!
Someone without coordination would have scored 3, 2, 3 and 4 for their waltz! That’s right, Killer Croc, I’m talking about you! You’re lucky you were saved by the fan vote.
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Like Aristotle says, “We are what we repeatedly do.” Which I guess makes me your mother!
Haha, that zinger always gets them. Except when the person I’m saying it to is my mother….suggesting I do my own grandmother….damn it, sometimes I think I’m the one who needs a psychologist.
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It may be “Outstanding!” to you, Joker, but that entire pot of tofu was completely ruined. Not my fault that Batman is unwilling to open himself up to some healthy non-meat alternatives.
I know I shouldn’t give in to peer pressure, but….that mask gives pretty great advice. Plus, I don’t have all that many friends, and I really want him to like me. If mask stops hanging out with me, that just leaves gloves, shoes and underpants as my only remaining buddies.
Have a sniff, Batman. It’s my latest fragrance, with an alluring french twist. I can it “Le Fear Toxin”. Wear it on a dinner date. Wear it to a job interview. Wear it when you once again fail to defeat The Scarecrow as you are consumed by the memories of your parents dying before your eyes.
And as I strike the fatal blow, the final words you hear shall be “This is the end for you, Batman. You are defeated. But you smell just like a field of wild flowers.”
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