A God among men and a man among Gods.

I am currently in the most emotionally distraught state I think I have ever been in over a death.

I've had a lot of things come and go, but there has always been one constant: Batman. But now, after reading Final Crisis #6, my world has been completely shattered, like that television screen we took a sledge hammer at the creek behind my old apartment.
I was hoping that this could have been one of Bruce's many doubles, but so far, all his proteges have been seen from, except for the man himself.

Until I find out that he somehow managed to escape fate I will probably be a mess who no one will want to talk to. I'll be even worse than when Kurt Vonnegut died.

(And I have never said this before, but hopefully everyone in the DC offices will give a good bitch slap to Grant Morrison, and also at least half the office should key his car... I'm serious.)

R.I.P, Batman, until I find out that this is one of your crazy charades that you like to do.