The pitch of night blankets the streets of Gotham. The only illumination this night comes from the surge of lightning jumping between the clouds. The bass of thunder rumbles across the atmosphere and muffles the commotion of traffic on the streets. One might believe this is all a precursor to a coming storm, but tonight, this will be no ordinary storm.

Perched motionless atop Gotham City’s tallest structure, Wayne Towers is a crouched Dark Knight. Each night he dons his cape and cowl is another night to avenge the murder of his parents in Crime Alley so many years ago. His job is never done and this night proves no different. His flowing cape rides the currents of wind. His cowl only reveals white pupil less eyes and a grim expression. He is awaiting his opponent. Perhaps the most powerful entity on the planet. Batman knows he will not have to wait long.

On foot, commuters making their way home have no idea what has passed by them on the streets, they only feel a gust of wind. A gale that pushes ladies dresses up and knocks the hats off of the men in buttoned trench coats. A faint, almost indistinguishable streak of crimson and blue is seen by a few of the more attentive Gothamites. The Man of Steel has made his way from Metropolis to the unforgiving streets of Gotham City. Clark Kent. Kal-El. Superman. Adopted alien son and hero to the planet Earth. Widely considered to be the most powerful being on the planet and despite the power he conveys simply by being, he has a moment of apprehension. This is Bruce’s town and he knows it. And while Bruce knows this city better than most people know their spouses and could be anywhere, there is one place he knows to look first.

Superman’s touch down on the gravel rooftop of Wayne Towers is flawless. The staccato bass of thunder accompanies his landing. Batman acknowledges to himself, in the shadows, it is quite a sight to see, Superman, in all of his grace and power. Yet, despite his respect for Clark, it does not change what is about to happen on the rooftop of Wayne Towers tonight.

Through the din and darkness of the Gotham night, Superman sees the Dark Knight’s pointed ears of his cowl and hears the rustle of the cape even through the surging storm. There is of course a reason why they call him Superman.

“It doesn’t have to be like this Bruce!”

The Caped Crusader rises in silent stoicism.

“The strong silent treatment isn’t going to work Bruce. We need to talk. We need to resolve this situation.”

The Last Son of Krypton strides towards Batman. A clap of thunder is doled out by the heavens. Before the rumble fades into the clouds, Superman is stopped in his stride by a flash of light so bright people on the street below can not help but look up as it is released.

Superman's olfactory immediately recognizes magnesium. A flare from the belt. Batman and his utility belt score first. As Superman’s sight begins to correct itself and he continues forward, his feet are locked by two titanium clamps around his boots. Suddenly the Man of Steel is hit by a surge of electricity. The lights on four city blocks flicker. Street lights shut off of with the surge and attempt to re-light themselves. Once precisely timed traffic now flicker in a rhythmic flash of red.

Superman is being electrocuted. The smell of burning hair starts to fill the air. His fingertips begin to blacken.

The electricity ends and Superman is left on one knee. The Man of Steel is getting angry. Before he is completely able to regain his senses, his former friend is on the move. Batman, with one fluid movement of his arm, launches a set of Batarangs into the air on a collision course for Clark. The still wobbling Kryptonian braces for their impact as his condition does not allow him to dodge the entire barrage. Instead of a striking Superman though, Batman’s revolving projectiles explode in front of Superman, releasing a payload of noxious fumes. Five separate clouds of gas enter Superman’s nose and infect his lungs with their potency. Not the sort of attack that will take Superman out for very long but it is one that keeps him disoriented and reeling, if only for a few more seconds.

The Dark Knight, if he hopes to have any chance at success, needs to make the most out of the seconds he has created for himself. As Superman is clearing his lungs, Batman launches his grapple line at the twenty foot high “W” that makes up the Wayne Towers sign. He pulls tautly on the line and begins his swing towards the Last Son of Krypton. Unfortunately for the Batman, the seconds he believed, if not hoped, to have, have vanished. As he is still fending off the remains of the Batarang attack, Clark manages to grab Bruce’s boot in midair. With the ease of someone who can lift boulders like tennis balls, Superman sends Batman flying in the opposite direction and directly into the support structure for the Wayne Towers sign.

Batman’s spine takes the brunt of the impact. Years of training and conditioning have taught him how to roll his body to avoid major damage but nothing can train him for the force of being thrown by Superman. He is thankful he wore his Impact uniform for tonight’s activities. He falls clumsily from the sign on to the gravel rooftop below. Clark’s throw had a little more speed on it than he would have expected.

“I might be in trouble” thinks Bruce.

As he shakes the stars from his head Batman looks up and Superman is in front of him.

“I am definitely in trouble” runs through the Caped Crusader’s mind.

Superman picks up Batman by his shoulder and punches Batman. The sound of the crack on his jaw is the only thing Batman can remember until he hits the gravel rooftop and slides for another fifteen feet. His jaw is most likely broken.

He must be holding back. Otherwise that punch would have disconnected Bruce’s head from his body.

“You know I held back Bruce. We don’t have to do this!”

Batman reaches for a pouch on his belt. The belt will have a remedy.

Before Batman can slip his fingers into the right rear pouch, Superman is in front of him again. With a swift kick to the kneeling hero’s midsection, Batman again is lifted into the air. He hears a wet snap of his rib. Clark has managed to crack three of his ribs, even through his Impact armor. Now he definitely needs to get to the belt.

“Are we done yet Bruce?”

Get to the belt.

“We can end this right now.”

Superman’s words are deafened by the sound of another clap of thunder in the Gotham skyline.

As Superman moves toward Batman, Batman catches some semblance of breath, gathers his strength and reaches for the pouch on his belt. With the same smooth motion used to throw his Batarangs, Batman releases one small capsule into the air. Superman picks the capsule out of the air between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re getting desperate now Br..”

The capsule explodes. The Man of Steel’s face is completely covered in a translucent epoxy. The epoxy begins to harden on the Kryptonian’s face the longer it is exposed to the air. This trick will only buy the Dark Knight a few moments. Batman scrambles to his feet.

There is a hum of energy growing from behind the epoxy. The translucence gives way to the red glow of heat vision. Two beams rip through the atmosphere. His enhanced strength is able to render the remaining pieces over his nose and mouth to shreds. Superman’s hearing picks up the cutting of the thick night air by two objects. He spins in a flash to meet the first object exploding at his feet. A blue haze of Freon and the sound of rapidly forming ice pique the Man of Steel’s attention. His legs and boots are encased in ice. The second object, a spheroid, crumples the gravel on the rooftop as it rolls to the frozen feet of Superman. It then unleashes a sonic shrill that puts cracks on the adjacent building’s windows. The Dark Knight stands clear. His cowl provides protection from the attack.

The Man of Steel writhes in agony. His nose releases a slow trickle of blood. He flexes his legs and the block of ice around his feet is blown into thousands of pieces of frozen shrapnel. Batman covers himself with his Kevlar lined cape as bits of the ice bounce off of it. Superman takes to the air now. A short burst of energy from the Kryptonian’s eyes dispatches the sonic grenade fifteen feet below him. He raises his head and again unleashes his atomic vision to halt the approach of another round of Batman’s attacks. A gust from his super breath pushes Batman into the air. Superman meets his former friend in mid-air. His grip is like a vise around Batman’s chest piece. The stitching is stretched tautly and the sound of the micro-fibers ripping can be heard. Batman is twenty feet in the air and now Superman is moving away from the rooftop to the open sky and Gotham’s Main Street hundreds of feet below. The Caped Crusader wraps his hands around the forearm of Superman. It is like holding on to a piece of steel. Superman’s arm doesn’t flinch.

“Out of tricks Bruce?”

Batman’s left hand let’s go of Superman’s forearm. He cocks his hand back to expose a nozzle connected to his glove. A stream of acid jets from the nozzle and sprays Superman’s face. The Man of Steel let’s out a grunt of pain. He flings Batman down to the rooftop so he can attend to his smoldering face. Batman lands on top of an air conditioning unit. The unit explodes with sparks and smoke. Batman is on his side trying to get to his feet before his foe comes back.

Superman clears away the acid as his face smokes from the attack. He descends on Batman who has scrambled from the air conditioning unit to his feet on the rooftop.

“It’s going to take more than that Bruce.”

Superman’s voice grates at Batman’s nervous system. The powerful semi-deity is now flaunting his power and he knows it. Batman also knows he is running out of options. He turns to run. Superman grabs a handful of Batman’s cape with his right hand. Batman’s head and neck are now angled towards his back. Superman puts his boot at the base of Batman’s spine. He leans in to Batman’s head.

“Bruce…say ‘uncle’.”

The belt. One more time. The belt.

The Dark Knight detective slips his hand into the last pouch on his belt. It is a specially lead lined pouch and pulls from it his trump card. From under the cape a green radioactive glow begins to light up the two combatants in emerald. Superman’s grip starts to loosen. Batman’s head and neck again have slack. Superman can not hold on to the Kevlar cape any longer and he releases it. Batman spins to face the Kryptonian. The small glow now becomes a beacon from atop Wayne Tower. People below begin to look skyward, point, and comment on the mysterious emerald light radiating from the tower.

His jaw most likely broken, any utterance hurts so Batman offers just one word to Superman, “Uncle.”

Superman drops to one knee. His strength is rapidly leaving him. Kryptonite. Bruce brought the ring. He once entrusted its existence to Bruce if he had ever lost control. A piece of jewelry with an extraterrestrial stone to battle a god.

Now Bruce is using it against him.

Superman raises his hands in a futile attempt to block the alien rock’s rays. His arms and legs weaken to the point where he is now on both knees and his arms have ceased to work. His skin begins to dry out. Fissures on his face crack and bleed. His ebony hair begins graying.

Superman is dying.

As quickly as Superman deteriorates is as quickly as the Batman puts the extraterrestrial rock back into the lead lined pouch in his belt. He hovers over the slowly recuperating Superman.

“We’re done talking. Now get out of my city.”

A flash of lightning and a roll of thunder strike the sky and Batman is gone.

The Man of Steel rises to his feet. His skin regains its color and elasticity. His hair goes back to black. He can feel his strength returning even though his arms have not quite returned all the way. His head is filled with the residual effects of the Kryptonite, Superman pines for the sun, but he feels strong enough to return to the skies.

As he floats in the sky above Wayne Towers, he scans the area. No sign of the Batman anywhere. He could probably go to the Cave and meet Bruce there but he lacks the strength. Besides, the Bat-Cave is teaming with traps and other premeditated means of defense concocted by Bruce. This round will have to go to Batman. But there will be a round two and next time round two is going to be in Metropolis. Superman pivots toward the sky and in a blur, the Kryptonian is gone.

In the distance, Batman watches Clark leave. He turns in silhouette with the streaks of lightning now filling the Gotham sky. He has multiple bruises, a broken jaw, and multiple broken ribs but he knows he won tonight. He also knows this isn’t over between the two titans. A flash of lightning illuminates the sky. As quickly as the sky is lit is as quickly as it is dark again and as quickly as the Dark Knight is gone. He will be off to Metropolis soon enough.    

Like you, I grew up with comics. Whether I was slurping down Frosted Flakes while I was watching ‘Spiderman and his Amazing Friends’ on Saturday mornings or was reading John Byrne’s Fantastic Four run, Reed Richards, Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Ben Grimm, Bobby Drake, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, and all of their storied mythologies were ingrained in me as much as the screen printed symbols were on my Underoos.

The constant of their characters has made them recognizable to people outside of the fanboy community. Heroes like Batman, Superman, and Spiderman have all transcended their paneled pages, making their way into all of our lives through all types of media. Lois Lane has been by Superman’s side since nineteen thirty eight?. Aunt May has been worried about Peter since 1963. Alfred has been loyal butler and capable field medic after a run in with the Joker for 70 years. Recognizable is good. It has obviously played a huge role in how these characters have come into and have remained apart of our lives. But that recognition comes at a price.

For decades our favorite heroes and their exploits have revolved around many of the same supporting characters. For decades the heroes, many of us sacrificed a social life to read about, have cheated death and even a week’s worth of aging. Certainly, no one can deny these spandex clad heroes have been apart of gripping stories and mind blowing artwork gobbled up by fans like the Blob at an all you can eat buffet. But too many times, our heroes have fallen back on tired supporting characters and rewritten stories that had run their course years ago.  The continuity and the flow of our favorite titles is mired in having to keep these characters apart of the multiverse.

It’s time to say goodbye to Aunt May.  
Though it pains us, by all accounts she should have been dead a long time ago. Conservative estimates put her at being as old as Ulysses Bloodstone. So why is it Peter Parker’s aunt lives on?

Most fanboys and girls feel more deeply connected to Peter and May than they do for anyone real in their lives(if you have devoted even a single thought at what it would be like to date a Frank Cho rendering of Ms. Marvel, that statement applies especially to you).

The connections felt for the 616 Universe or Earth-2 has given way to ‘Crisis’ and ‘Brand New Day’ simply for the sake of salvaging characters that should have been eliminated. No one can rest in peace in comics. Everyone keeps coming back. Jason Todd. Steve Rogers. Simon Williams. Wally West. Bucky Barnes. Elektra Natchios. Hal Jordan. Aunt May. Jean Grey. Peter Rasputin. I have loved and grew up with these characters as much as the next socially awkward fan but even I know when it is time to say goodbye. The only time you could be killed off or actually stay dead is if your name is Vibe or Thomas and Martha Wayne. Superman was supposed to be the Last Son of Krypton. The only survivor of a doomed planet. There are more Kryptonians running around the DC universe than there are sectors in the universe for the Green Lantern Corp to patrol.

Even though these stories are centered around men and women in invisible jets, colorful spandex, and mutant spawned powers, publishers have worked hard to ground these superheroes in some level of reality. Writers fully acknowledge putting characters in situations we can relate with. Cities we live in. And despite the willing suspension of disbelief that automatically comes with reading a comic book, you can not help but root them in the context of your own life thanks to the creative teams behind them.

So why can’t Steve Rogers stay dead(this coming from the person who wrote his 'Who you want to be when you grow up" 4th grade paper on wanting to be Captain America)

Not just due to our inability to release our Kun Lun grip on him, but because publishers, as much as they are concerned with and tinkering the flow of continuity and the characters themselves, are concerned much more with issue sales. Of course they know we will show up at comic shops and milehighcomics.com in droves to get our hands on the ‘return’ issue for our favorite superhero. More than likely, they would have liked to have seen some of these characters stay dead but how do you deny the ravenous fans yearning to have Jean Grey return to Scott Summers? So in the end, it is ours, the fans responsibility for having to put up with 'return' issues and reality sweeping events that rewrite continuity for the sake of keeping a few fan favorite characters.

It’s time both publishers and readers to finally let Jean Grey, Steve Rogers, Mar-vell, and all else to rest in peace. It’s time we cut the weblines holding together resurrections of characters and reoccurring characters that fill the pages of our favorite titles. It’s time to open the dam to the river of continuity. It’s time for fresh stories unhindered by characters long past their usefulness but kept alive by publisher greed and fan obsession. It's time we stopped endorsing ridiculous universe encompassing events for the sake of a fictional life or two. It is time for a pinch of reality in an unreal world. It is time we finally said goodbye to Aunt May.    

Widely regarded as maybe the best comic book movie of all time, the Dark Knight Returns got it right.  We the fanboys(and fangirls) have been delighted with movies adapted from our favorite comics like the Hellboy, Iron Man, X2, Spiderman 2 or Watchmen, yet, as inevitably as a failed world domination attempt by Count Nefaria, we are also subjected to less than rewarding adaptations.  Ghost Rider, Judge Dredd, the Shadow, Spiderman 3, any Joel Schumacher Batman and the newly released Wolverine Origins.
Why?  What success, like the Super Soldier formula had for puny Steve Rogers, have the comic adaptations found?  Why have some adaptations sucked out the essence of the characters we love like Michael Morbius after a month long fasting?
Ingredients.  As the best of the movies have included certain ingredients, they have been cautious to not include other ingredients.  LIke any recipe, the proper mixing and matching can make all the difference in the world.  So what ingredients need to be avoided like an unscheduled trip into the Negative Zone?
1.  Do not invent or complete rewrite characters.
     Anyone remember Nuclear Man from Superman 4, A Quest for Peace?  Who thought Tommy Lee Jones did a good job as Two Face in Batman Forever?  So Sandman, according to Sam Raimi was involved with Uncle Ben's death?  Really?  Was anyone else bothered by Deadpool in Wolverine Origins?
Comic publishers often times have decades worth of characters and their stories at their disposal.  There is no reason in the 616 World to reinvent or completely invent characters for these movies.  Stick to what has been written.  Allowing Oscar winners to "play" with one of our characters is unacceptable.
2.  More is not always better.
     Spiderman 3, X3, Wolverine Origins.  They have all fallen victim to their success(among other things) and so the producers are constantly upping the ante.  Jamming more storylines, more CGI, more characters into 90 minutes.  Keep it simple.  Believe it or not, we in the comic community do not need an explosion or another mutant jumping on the screen every 7 seconds.  Sandman was enough, now Spiderman 3 has ruined what could have been a seperate Venom story.  We're already excited.  Take it down a notch.  Save it for the DVD.
3.  Hollywood heavyweights need not apply.
     Christian Bale, though a star, was no where near the celebrity Ben Affleck was for Daredevil.  Hugh Jackman owes every movie, from the Prestige to Australia, to Logan(as much as we blame Logan for Kate and Leopold and Swordfish).  The characters of the story are the stars, not the people portraying them.  Ghost Rider was as doomed as Johnny Blaze's soul the second the C.S.A. decided to cast Nicholas Cage(it's difficult to believe an ass kicking human demon could have been in Guarding Tess and It Could Happen to You).  We don't need stars.  We want whoever can bring to life the characters.  Hollywood stars can cloud the performance because they forget we care about the cape, not them.
4.  Don't reinvent the wheel.
     Hundreds of men and women have contributed to creating, sculpting, and perfecting characters we all have spent huge sums of money on and lost countless amounts of time for dating to follow.  Producers in Hollywood, for the most part, have no idea the intricacies involved with a character like Superman(most think he's a guy in a cape who can leap tall buildings in a single bound).  I understand the need for creative freedom in order to properly portray the mythology on screen(Iron Man's origin getting tweeked from Vietnam to the MIddle East).  I understanding not always being able to follow the pages of the books in numerical order.  What I can not understand is why established stories are either blatantly ignored or rewritten. 
5.  Merchandising should not be the sole purpose to release a movie.
     With every movie released, it seems as though both Marvel and DC have taken to the Hannah Montana school of merchandising thought.  Put the likeness of the characters on everything from a toothbrush to dining sets.  Maybe the reason these movies have 16 characters is for the publishers to cash in from the junk lining the shelves at WalMart and in Kids Meals from Burger King?  Whatever the reason, merchandising has contributed to the downfall of comic adaptations.  The movies less concerned with action figures and bed sheets seem to do much better.  They understand merchandising will come.  What is important is the story and staying true to what the audience expects, not how much money you can extort from the parents of 10 year old boys.

Is it too much to ask for Hollywood(and now Marvel since they own their own productions), to hold on to an Ant Man sized amount of integrity?  If they could, not only would the movies being made continue to generate sickening amounts of money but the fanboys(and fangirls) might be fooled into believing they do care about the mythology we hold so closely and not just the unedited DVD release.  Maybe if they would have remembered, as they were inserting another character into the script, to just stick to the formula used by the comic books for years, all the movies that had fallen flat, may have gotten it right and been able to be a little more like the Dark Knight?

Excelsior.