Even More Dreams

The other night, I had a dream that I was Batman.

Unfortunately I wasn't the cool Dark Knight Batman, nor was I classic cool golden era of comics Batman. I wasn't even Adam West-y. Instead, I was this backwater, sub-ghetto Batman who looked like his costume was a blend of goods from the Wal Mart Toy department and shoddy welding. I still had the gut, and I definitely lacked the genuine instincts. I didn't even have any cool tools or high end crime fighting technology. The one saving grace I had to my name was the Batmobile, which was this fucked up mid eighties Toyota Supra that I had spray painted matte black. I think I may have even glued some cardboard wings onto the thing. I took it out joyriding with a friend of mine, just so he could see how cool it was. The car stunk like dust and mildew, but he being a good friend, still approved of the ride.

In the next part of the dream, I was on a mission. I drove into this abandoned warehouse that was sure to be a front for something. I snuck into the shadows and climbed into the rafters. Sure enough, the enemy was present, an enemy that had to be dispensed.

And I was agile people. Speed and sneakiness were my allies. I wish only my technology was better. I didn't trust my martial arts skills (which I wasn't 100% sure that I had,) to dispatch of my foes, so I needed to use the gear, which was underwhelming to say the least. No smoke bombs, no gas pellets, no grappling hooks. All I had to my name was a veterinarian-grade tranquilizer gun and a bottle of ether. But, somehow I managed to make it work, taking out everyone and climbing onto the roof.

And there, on the roof, I found the Joker waiting for me. But, this Joker was a bit....unfamiliar.

First off, this Joker was a she. Yes, a feminine Joker, long legged, boobed up and everything. What also was weird, was that she wasn't wearing any of the standard Joker attire. No purple suits or green hair or even the white makeup. Instead, she was wearing a basic black dress. Oh, and no underwear. A fact which she exploited extensively as she lay on the floor writhing and making cooing sounds.

Naturally, I was a bit perplexed about how to handle this situation. On the one hand, this was the Joker, sort of. A vile criminal element that must have done something wrong. I mean, I wouldn't be climbing rafters and dousing people with ether if she hadn't done something wrong. But on the other hand, this was a moderately attractive woman who was spread eagle on the floor. Something you just don't get enough of in this day and age. While trying to make a decision about what to do next, I woke up.

So, there you go. Any ideas as to what this all means would be very much appreciated, since I am completely lost.