Duke and Jason Being Hood Kids, Part 12
Duke’s stretching his arms above his head and cracking his knuckles. Tim hits pause on losing his shit and briefly wonders if that’s a bad thing.
“Umm,” he says eloquently. “That’s it? You’re just…why does it matter if he can’t—what’s happening?”
Duke continues stretching as he responds. “He came at you crazy?”
“Explicitly? No, but it was definitely implied.”
Duke blinks and stares at Tim in a way that clearly screams “get it together, white boy.” Either that or “I said what I said.” The looks are too similar.
“Okay then. We ride at dawn. Or, y’know, a time appropriate for whooping somebody’s ass. Like now.”
Jason pokes his head into the library, reading glasses (“Shut your asses up, I look good.”) perched on his nose.
“We beating somebody’s ass?
Tim tries asking when the hell Jason got here, but Duke cuts in. “Yup. Tim went on a date with Super Clone and his daddy didn’t like it. He said some -ism and -phobia words.”
The oldest of the three blinks, looks off into space for a moment, then removes his glasses and taps them against his chin. “I’m in. One question, though—daddy I need kryptonite bullets for or nah?”
Tim’s losing control of this situation faster than Flash can run. “Why do you have kryptonite bullets?!”
Duke ignores him and addresses Jason. “Bald ass, evil ass, about-to-be-real-unfortunate-in-the-face ass daddy.”
The two stare at each other for a moment, completely tuning out Tim’s protests. Jason nods and pockets his reading glasses.
“He can’t beat my ass,” he declares. “Make sure you pack tranquilizer darts for Mercy. Last time she got lucky and broke my ribs.”
Tim wonders if he just put a hit out on Lex Luthor. And Mercy. Well, no, it sounds like they’re just knocking her out to get to Lex. But maybe—Jesus Christ, he’s missing the point again.
“Guys!” Duke and Jason finally stop plotting and look at him. “We don’t need to kick his ass. I already tanked LexCorp’s stock, siphoned money from his personal account, and made a $50 million donation to the Human Rights Campaign in his name. It’s all good.”
Jason gives a low whistle. Duke gives a slow clap, clearly impressed.
“Savagery,” Jason whispers, a dramatic hand over his heart. “Art.”
“Truly masterful,” Duke agrees. “But you forgot something. Three somethings, actually.”
The taller teen loops an arm around Tim’s shoulders, steering him toward the cave. “First: Lex Luthor’s a hater who deserves a punch to the face.”
Okay, Tim can’t argue with that. It’s an objective fact.
“Second,” Jason interjects, “aside from the homophobic language that I personally find offensive, he’s also fucked with my favorite white boy. He must pay for his crimes.”
But—wait. Tim is shocked stupid when he realizes Jason just called him his favorite white boy. Awww.
“And third,” Duke sing-songs as they open the grandfather clock. “What he said was fighting words and he can’t beat my ass.”
Tim can’t argue with that logic.
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