Ever Dance With The Devil In The Pale Moonlight...

Dear Batman,

I wish you'd come and rescue me. I'm trapped in various hotel rooms for the next 7 weeks and all you can do is prance about on the telly with Vicky Vale. Honestly all she does is scream and look good in red lipstick. I look good in red lipstick, but I rarely scream. I also never wear white when it's raining or go to dinner with men who have green hair, a ropey smile and dance badly to Prince. It is almost impossible to dance badly to Prince, unless your Bill Oddie, but that's another story...

I wouldn't require you to jump off a building to save me because I had stupidly wandered down an alley way, (especially when there is a perfectly well lit, busy street, for my tootsies to trot along) and I most certainly wouldn't take photographs of you getting your arse kicked whilst protecting me after I had done this. I'm more likely to pick up a plank and hit the bad guy from behind. I would sincerely hope the word "conk" appears in a brightly lit speech bubble, accompanied of course, with appropriate comedy sound effect. I wouldn't even ask any awkward questions about Robin. I'd just like to go for a ride in your car and check out your belt, maybe afterwards, we could have tea with Alfred....Alfred's cool...

Yours sincerely,