How to Hit a Home Run When You’re on the Home Run
You’ll see the baby elephant running in pink boots at the end
My radio crackled. “Sgt McEwan, we have a treble nine call from a Bruce Wayne. He tells us there is going to be trouble at the nightclub. Can you attend? We’re getting the CCTV cameras on there now.”
Bruce Wayne, I thought. Isn’t that Batman? I was right around the corner with PC Dave McCrimmon. “Sure. We’ll be there in a jiffy.”
Batman wore skinny blue jeans, Dr Martens boots, and a brown leather jacket. He held a mobile phone to his ear in one hand and brandished a baseball bat with the other. His angry eyes, almost deranged, focused on me.
I told him to drop the bat. Instead, he raised it, positioning it parallel to his shoulder, prepared to strike. He dropped his phone. That was the last the operator heard from our guy.
Batman looked at me like he was ready to close the door on my tomb. I glared back with all the imperative authority and guts I could muster and told him, “If you don’t drop that baseball bat, I’ll take it off you and stick it up your arse.” It didn’t work.
Dave and I edged forward, backing Batman onto the pavement. I didn’t take my eyes off him for a millisecond, which explained how I accidentally stood on his…
