The Batmare Stories

As told by Batmare…

“I was bored one day, and I read on the internet that if you covered your hands in rubbing alcohol, you could hold a fireball in your hands without getting hurt. So, I emptied three bottles of rubbing alcohol into a big bowl and soaked my hands in it for three hours. It stinged so bad. 

When they were nice and coated in rubbing alcohol, I had my friend throw a lit match onto my hand, and it worked! I was holding a fire ball. I felt like a fire bender. 

One of my friends said, “Can you toss it from one hand to the other?” 

I said, “Let’s find out!” I could. I did that for a while, and then, I wanted to try more fire bending. I tried to do this elaborate twisting movement with the fire. In my mind, it was going to turn out really cool. Really, it burned my arm.

I didn’t want to tell my mom that I needed to go to the hospital because I knew that I would get in trouble, so I got this big vat of ice cream that we had in the freezer and stuck my arm in it. My mom walked in on me hunched over the ice cream with my arm still in it, and we had a tense moment like on Kill Bill with the dramatic look. My mom looked at me, and I looked at my mom. So I asked, “Do you want some ice cream?”

She said, “No, you keep that.” I think that she just thought I was being awkward.”

As told by Batmare…

“My aunt lives on the second floor of my house. She has a ton of collectibles. She collects everything, so it’s really cool to see, but she is constantly redecorating, and she asks my friends and I to help her move all of her things downstairs so that she can decorate.

It took us about 5 hours to move all of her collectibles, but we finally just had furniture left. We were debating how to move this huge couch downstairs without hurting ourselves. We couldn’t just carry it down, and we couldn’t just push it down the stairs because the staircase turned.

I said, “I have an idea”

My friends said, “Oh no.” They knew me long enough to know that this couldn’t mean anything good.

“No, this will be great! There’s almost no chance of us getting seriously injured.”

“Great then. You do it”

“Fine.” We tilted the couch so that one end was hanging over the stairs and the other end was on the floor. I put a rolling chair under the end of the couch that was on the floor, and I tied a cord around one leg of the couch and around the rolling chair and then held onto the other end. Then, I climbed onto the couch and told my friends to push.

It started out great, I was going down the stairs, but my friends yelled that I was going to hit the landing. I said, “Oh yeah? Watch this!” I tugged the cord and turned the couch to go down the rest of the stairs after the turn.

The couch, surprisingly unscathed, landed next to the other furniture we brought down. I was still clutching the cord when my friends came down to see if I was alright. Suddenly, the couch legs all broke off. We didn’t know what to do, so we lifted the couch cushions to see how they were attached and just nailed them back on.

My aunt had heard all of the thumping and found us nailing back on the couch legs. She said, “What are you doing? What happened?”

I lied. “The legs were detachable, so we took them off to take it downstairs, and now, we’re putting them back on.”

She said,”Oh! Good thinking!”

My uncle knew that the legs on that couch weren’t detachable, but he didn’t say anything to my aunt. Only later did he ask how we figured out to put them back on and tell me that he might have jobs for me later.”