Fredrit over to his friend Bruce Waynes house about every Tuesday night. Bruce would be typically sitting in his study drinking a glass of something. Fredric would e in and sit down and look around the study in which there were many trophies of past exploits.
"Well Fredric what have you been doing? Anything?"
"No Bruce things have been just sort of rog along."
"Well this is Tuesday night and usually theres some a on Tuesday night."
"I know Bruce or otherwise I wouldnt pick Tuesday night to e over."
"You wao turn on the radio Fredric? Usually theres something iing on the radio or maybe youd like a little musiy hi-fi?"
Bruce Waynes radio ecial short-wave model with mara features. When Bruce tur on there was a squealing noise and then they were listening to Tokyo or somewhere. Above the radio on the wall hung a trophy from an exploit: a long Afri spear with a spearhead made of tin.
"Tell me Bruce what is it youre drinking there?" Fredric asked.
"Im sorry Fredric its tomato juice. I get you a glass?"
"Does it have anything in it or is it just plain tomato juice?"
"Its tomato juice with a little vodka."
"Yes I wouldnt mind a glass," Fredric said. "Not too heavy on the vodka please."
While Bruce went out to the kit to make the drink Fredric got up a over to examihe Afri spear more closely. It was he saw tipped with a rusty darkish substance, probably some rare exotic poisohought.
"What is this stuff on the end of this Afri spear?" he asked when Bruce came bato the room.
"I must have left the other bottle of vodka imobile," Bruce said. "Oh thats curare, deadliest of the South Ameri poisons," he affirmed. "It attacks the motor nerves. Be careful there and dont scratch yourself."
"Thats okay Ill just drink this tomato juice straight," Fredric said settling himself in his chair and looking out of the window. "Oh-oh theres the bat symbol spotlighted against the sky. This must mean a call from issiordon at headquarters."
Bruce looked out of the window. A long beam of yellowish light culminating in a perfect bat symbol lahe evening sky.
"I told you Tuesday night was usually a good night," Bruce Wayne said. He put his vodka-and-tomato-juice down on the piano. "Hold on a minute while I ge will you?"
"Sure, take your time," Fredric said. "By the way is Robin still at Andover?"
"Yes," Bruce said. "Hell be home for Thanksgiving, I think. Hes having a little trouble with his French."
"Well I dido interrupt you," Fredric said. "Go ahead and ge. Ill just look at this magazine."
After Bruce had ged they both went out to the garage where the Batmobile and the Batplane waited.
Batman was humming a tune which Fredric reized as being the "Warsaw certo." "Whie shall we take?" he said. "Its always hard to decide on a vague and ierminate kind of assig like this."
"Lets flip," Fredric suggested.
"Do you have a quarter?" Batman asked.
"No but I have a dime. That should be okay," Fredric said. They flipped, heads for the Batmobile, tails for the Batplahe came up heads.
"Well," Batman said as they climbed into the fortable Batmobile, "at least you have some vodka now. Its uhe seat."
"I hate to drink it straight," Fredric said.
"Press that button there on the dashboard," Batman said. Fredric pressed the button and a panel on the dashboard slid back to reveal a little bar, with ice, glasses, water,