Pavlov's Brian; Peter's Dirty Secret

QUAHOG, R.I. - I was sitting at my desk practicing Astral Projection when I was interrupted by the arrival Brian Griffin and his owner, Peter. The famous family pet and star of the hit reality series, Family Guy, had quite a problem and he'd heard I was the HPSIC (Head Problem Solver In Charge.) He'd heard correctly.

Luckily, for us both, Doc Samson, Dr. Katz and Dr. Harleen Quinzel were already sitting with me. (Just to clarify: I'm not crazy. It's just that, well, being in love with a superhero is hard and sometimes painful. *sob*)

Brian nodded to two of my companions; lifted an appreciative Martini glass to the third; then gave me the old 'up-down'. "You're cute," he said, "Or you would be if you were six shades lighter and blonde."

"Thank you," I replied through a tight smile—wondering how badly I could hurt him before PETA came looking. Did I mention that Harley is my friend and she'd totally help me dispose of a body. This would be an easy one—high blood alcohol levels make for great accelerates.

Doc Samson was getting antsy and kept looking at his watch. He was on borrowed time and needed to return to NY and the World War Hulk incident. So, I quickly set up the mics and asked "What exactly is your problem, Brian?"

"I... I don't know what it is," he stammered. "I just can't seem to stop barking at black people. The thug and the executive alike." He swallowed the contents of his glass with shaky paws. "Dear God", he said looking at me "I know you're not all thieves, but you're all thieves—I just know it!" Breathing heavily, he virtually sagged onto the carpet.

Peter was already on the floor making war between my fully articulated Batman and Optimus Prime figures. I think I heard him snicker, "No one with prostate cancer can beat Batman, Stupidus Slime! beh heh heh heh heh!"

Just then Doc Samson put a hand to his ear piece. "Shulkie's down," he said giving me the look. I nodded, imperceptibly. He went into what analysts call 'straight-no chaser' mode.

"Isn't it obvious, you familiar-to-a-dolt?" Doc said, crossing the room to stand arms akimbo. "It's called Conditioned Response. Ever of heard of Pavlov? Your idiot owner's heartbeat elevates, he gets sweaty, nervous; you smell fear, perceiving a threat to your meal ticket; you respond with aggression. If his reaction is the constant result of African American proximity—ta dah! Your Conditioned Response is that black people are villains, and your tiny canine brain does the rest. Dogs aren't racists. They're loyal, instinctual. The Griffins? They're philistines."

Suddenly Peter jumped to his feet, pointing at absolutely nothing and screaming, "I'll get you Man-sized Chicken!" Then he did a forward roll and dove—action hero style—through my 40-story window.

Brian produced a Cocktail Shaker out of nowhere, yeah, let's call it nowhere, and refilled his glass. "Y'know, Doc, you might have something there." He checked his wristwatch. "What say we pick this up again next week? Maybe just you and me... um, y'know, just the guys," he said, his eyes sliding my way again.

Times like those are the best reasons for learning Astral Projection.

LET'S GO TO THE VIDEO TAPE:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Y6_UKe_eaSA
http://youtube.com/watch?v=z2O3cgVJy7s

Further Reference Material: White Dog (1982)

Crazy Person Claims Secret Identities "Not So Secret"

GOTHAM CITY - Today was a sad day for Maury Horowitz, who was committed to Arkham Asylum after decades of outrageous claims regarding the identities of certain superheroes. Horowitz, 60, claims to have an uncanny ability to discern the identities of caped and masked crusaders simply based upon their physical appearance. After prolonged sessions of therapy, medication, and even hypnosis with psychiatrist Harleen Quinzel, it was determined that Horowitz's delusions had caused him to become a danger to himself and others.

In a recent interview with reporter Jimmy Olsen, Horowitz claimed to know the identity of several heroes, including Superman and the Green Arrow. "They're the same guy!" he ranted. "Superman and that reporter guy married to Lois Lane. The only difference is the glasses! It's just a pair of glasses!" Olsen told the BPD that this was "pure hogwash" and that there is "no way" that Superman and Clark Kent are the same person. "They both happen to be close personal friends of mine," Olsen said. "I'd know if they were the same person."

On the subject of the Green Arrow, Horowitz's claims are equally outlandish. "Okay... liberal crusading mayor with blonde hair and goatee... liberal crusading superhero with blonde hair and goatee. Same city... same hair... same goatee. C'mon, people!" Arkham Asylum staff have placed Horowitz under heavy sedation in the hopes that one day his condition can be cured.

Justice League of America member Red Arrow spoke with BPD about the steps he takes to protect his identity. "Well, I wear this mask. It covers the area immediately around my eyes." When asked if he was concerned about a villain one day discovering his identity, he quickly replied, "Haven't you been reading our comic? We don't fight villains."

Ledger Can't Take A Joker

HOLLYWOOD – Actor Heath Ledger has filed a restraining order against Gotham psychiatrist, Dr. Harleen Quinzel. According to Ledger, Quinzel continues to laughing-gas his security force and taunt him from his front yard with “let me in Mister J” and “aww, come on, Puddin’.” He also claims the discredited shrink rose out of his Wednesday night bubble bath like a psychotic Venus de Milo.

When confronted with Ledger’s allegations, Quinzel replied “Sure, I was there. We have an understandin,' me and Mister J. You maybe [sic] might say it’s a verbal agreement.”

Ledger admits he met Quinzel, known to friends as Harley, on the set of the upcoming Dark Knight film, Christopher Nolan's latest biopic about The Batman featuring The Joker—Harley's on and off lover. The star confirms that Quinzel expressed a deep affection for him, demanding he strap her to a rocket before being carted off by studio police. Still, he did not immediately recall the verbal agreement mentioned by the fatal femme. Moments later the Australian slapped himself on the forehead and mumbled something about a language barrier “What I told her was ‘you should stop by if you're ever, you know, not crazy.’”

Hollywood Insiders hype Quinzel’s obsession as a blunder, believing she has confused Ledger with the Clown Prince of Crime. This is a possibility as Ledger will be portraying the Joker in Dark Knight.

Harley biographer Paul Dini has a different take. “I don’t think Harley is acting on her own. Heath just isn’t her type. The way I see it the whole thing reeks of an elaborate prank and we know who does that best.” This theory may prove far more reasonable. A BPD inside source described the 'stalker act' as a ploy, designed to drive Ledger stark-raving-mad, thus inducing a truly inspired—joker—performance.

The Joker’s maniacal laughter echoed through the halls of Arkham when asked to validate or deny our information. However, his countenance dropped a full 4 inches when shown Ledger's look for the film. After pausing, seemingly perplexed, he finally intoned, “You must be joking.”

Batman: Harley Quinn art by Alex Ross.

Miss Anthropic Almost A Missus

WASHINGTON, DC – What should have been a happy occasion in the U.S. Botanic Gardens went decidedly left yesterday. First, Misanthropic Miss Poison Ivy discovered her boyfriend of 4 months, Jason Holland, was not a horticulturalist as he originally claimed but actually a Florist. Ivy abhors florists. “They parade the carcasses of blossoms around as though they’ve improved on nature. Florists? Piffle. More like funeral directors.”

Even with ambivalent feelings about Holland’s dishonesty, Ivy quickly forgot and forgave upon recollection of how well he “hits the walls and works the middle.” “It’s not easy to find a man that knows his way around a g-spot,” said Ivy placing a thoughtful finger to her cheek, “but what he did next completely canceled the thrill of the sugar stick.” Holland, hugely successful from his work on high profile funerals, whipped out a flawless purple adamite box and went down on one knee. He began to “drone on” about how a rare flower deserves a rare stone, recalled Ivy. “How he’d searched ‘far and wide, finally purchasing just such a stone from [billionaire playboy] Bruce Wayne.’ Quicker then you could say Hollywood and Vine the idiot popped the damnable thing of my finger!”

All hell, quite literally, broke loose as the ‘damnable thing’ in question was a gorgeous, platinum set, 4-carat, emerald cut White Kryptonite engagement ring. “He couldn’t be like most men and buy a ring that turns your finger green! Oh no!” shrieked Ivy from her suite at the Willard.

White Kryptonite is known for killing all plant life from all worlds within a roughly 12 yard radius (somehow the adamite had kept its powers at bay). Guards at the U.S Botanic Gardens, fearing for their jobs, quickly shot Holland in the knee caps. “It’s the age of Bush," said guard Neil Adamson, “the guy had to go down and fast.”

Ivy, calling on her remaining humanity, was able to remove the ring and shove it back into its box.

Afterwards, she called a gal pal confab to vent her frustrations. Fellow BPD reporter Kat Bittner and I were two of three guests invited to Ivy’s plush hotel digs. Close personal friend Harley Quinn was also on the scene. In an effort to lighten the mood Quinn presented Ivy with Holland’s disembodied, plasticized head—which she’d cleverly turned into a orchid planter. ‘BFF love, Harley’ was scrawled across the forehead in gold metallic ink. Kat and I made our excuses deciding to get the heck out of dodge, so to speak. In the wake of our hasty departure we heard Ivy call “But we’ve got ice cream.”

We almost went back.

Poison Kiss Art by Brian Apthorp. Graphitti Designs Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy t-shirt by Bruce Timm