Chapter Text
The sound of a cheery jingle was heard through almost all of Gotham, in the alleys and warehouses, in the nice homes and offices, almost everyone recognized the sound, with the exception of out-of-towners. The jingle faded into a quiet static before abruptly being cut off with the sound of a soda-can being opened.
“Welcome back, beloved listeners, to the Got Ham radio show. I’m your host Bristol.”
“And I’m your other host, Parker. We’re here tonight to give you the joy of listening to both actual news and our insomnia-induced shenanigans.”
The static was back for a split second–accompanied by what sounded like haunted whispers–before the two hosts started talking again.
“As always, we’ll start off with the weather, then move on to Parker with his ominous warnings, and then finish off with our Talk-About-Whatever section, where we talk about whatever.”
The other host, Parker cuts in. “Just before that, our drink on the menu tonight is a Sicilian Sunset. Made with prosecco, orange juice, cranberry juice, and the zest of two lemons. You can make it non-alcoholic if you substitute the prosecco for lemon-lime soda. Go on and have a sip Bristol, tell me what you think.”
There's a quiet moment, the only thing heard is the clink of ice against a glass and then the dull thud of a glass being set down.
“Oh that’s
good
, any reason for this one tonight?”
“I came across the recipe and thought it sounded nice. I’m glad you like it, now carry on with your weather predictions.”
“I think it stops being a prediction when it comes true.”
“Eh, fair.”
The voices are then replaced with an almost musical cacophony of thunder crashes, rain sounds, and wind.
“Welcome to your nightly weather predictions, it’s going to rain later tonight, so wear your rain boots and forget the umbrella because it’s going to be windy as hell too. Tomorrow it’s gonna be a little chilly, right now I’m thinkin’ about 53º Fahrenheit, mild winds, might be a little damp as well.”
A pause.
“Also, there’s going to be some sort of tropical storm soon. ‘Course with me, “soon” could be anywhere from three hours to three months from now, but I think you get the idea so start preparing.”
A quiet murmur in the background, a voice that belonged to neither of the hosts, said, “Racers, start your engines!”
The other host, Parker huffed and clapped their hands with mirth.
“Now for my predictions...” They drummed their fingers in anticipation, “Sewers!”
Silence stretched between the hosts.
“Is…” Bristol’s terrible accent dropped for a second, “Is that it?”
“Yup” Parker popped the ‘p’.
“Sewers…”
“Sewers!”
They stayed in silence for another few seconds.
“Killer croc is out, isn't he.”
“He totally is,” Parker sounded way too casual. “You heard it here folks! Do not approach the sewers! Our good cannibalistic crocodile friend might be doing the rounds!”
A deep exhausted sigh could be heard behind the host’s rant.
“I would say, leave the leftovers you don’t want going bad in your fridge by the manhole covers!” Parker took a sip from his drink, “Damn, this is good.”
“You know I hate you sometimes,” Bristol murmured.
“Get in line.”
“‘Get in line.’ Bitch, I’m first in line.”
A loud burst of laughter echoed through the receiver.
“Well that concludes the precautions,” Parker hums “courtesy of moi.”
“If you weren’t my best friend, I’d probably have punched you in the face by now.”
They both laughed again, and it faded into a quick jingle
“And now, our favourite part, the Talk-About-Whatever segment! Where we talk about whatever.”
“It’s what it says on the label folks.” Bristol's accent warbled on the last word.
“‘Dead dove: do not eat’ type shit.”
They both paused and then burst into laughter.
“For tonight’s entertainment we have decided to touch onto a very relevant topic.” Bristol started.
“Y’all have seen the news,” Parker huffed. “The last Wayne gala was yesterday and hoo boy. Did someone get mad.”
“Who was mad?” Bristol cackled, “Who was it?”
“Oh you know…” Parker started “just our favorite crystal ball…”
“Eggplant suited…”
“Metropolis’ berated egg head…”
“Broken condom result…”
“Anticonceptive example…”
“Lex Luthor!” They screeched in unison, snickering into their drinks.
“Ho boy, that was a lot of very…creative ways to insult one person. Though we did pick and choose some of them from Twitter- sorry, X. ” Bristol made a fake gagging sound.
“Yes we did!”
“Oh my god! Parker do you think-” Bristol cut themselves off with a gasp and a hysterical giggle. “Do you think Lex named it ‘X’ because it rhymed with his first name?”
“Shut up,” Parker sounded genuinely horrified. “Shut the fuck up.”
Bristol laughed loud, “I’m right! I’m so right! He totally named it X because it rhymed with his name!”
“I hate this! I hate this place, I hate this earth,” Parker began, dramatically “I’m not dealing with this- God!? Are you there!? Smite me down please! I’ve had a good run.”
Anyone listening could hear Bristol gasping for air, starting a sentence, and then wheezing their way back into laughter.
“I can’t- I’m gonna die oh my god -”
“You purple son of a bitch! I hate youuu!” Parker continued, not breaking character, “I hate you and your shitty branding!”
“He’s not- he’s not even purple?! ”
“Yes he is, that’s the only thing he wears!” Parker sounded frazzled, “Like, come on, make memories, when have you ever seen Luthor wearing anything but purple? Even his employees have to look like the fucking Grimace doll from McDonalds spat on them!”
There was a vague thumping sound and then gasping very close to the microphone.
“He wore red that one time to upstage the bride at an Indian wedding he was invited to in … 2014! Don’t ask why I know that please.”
“That was magenta.” Parker screeched, “Look at, look at me- look at me. I’m the art school dropout! That was ma-gen-ta.”
“It was- I’m looking at you- It was fucking red and you know it! And the keyword there is ‘dropout’ dipshit! It was red! I swear to you and our-” The words cut to static for a half-second. “...equipment- it was red!”
“Lalalalala,” Parker’s voice sounds distant. “I can’t hear your stupid uncultured words! Shut up, shut up-”
There was another cut to static, then a cut to “All Star” by Smashmouth, effectively cutting off any and all conversation from the two hosts. The hosts could be heard again almost the second the song ended.
“Back on the topic of racially motivated actions.” Bristol, who seemed to have regained the ability to breath, began. “For once people aren’t trying to skin Luthor because of terrible branding or shitty fashion decisions.”
“No, this time he went big” Parker’s voice was full of mirth “the bitch went nuclear”
“Went south for the winter, if you will. And if you understand that reference, marry me.”
“Don’t try it folks they’re taken,” Parker huffed, “But you get the gist. If you’ve been living under a rock or going through a social media detox, chances are you haven’t seen Luthor's absolute garbage take.”
“For me,” Bristol hums tentatively. “It’s up on his top-ten worst takes, like when he told Superman to go ‘back to his planet and stop taking American jobs’.”
“For real,” Parker took a long sip of his drink. “Last night, during an interview, our fugitive of folic acid decided it would be a good idea to make an unsavory comment about Damian Wayne’s “eastern values”.”
Bristol made another gagging sound, “Boo! Booo! Loud incorrect buzzer sound! Tomato tomato tomato! Seriously though, what the fuck-”
“And then!” Parker laughs hysterically “Then! The ballsack faced son of a bitch decides to go! On his shitty app and make some aggressive comment about Jason Todd-Wayne and the Latino community in Gotham. Which lemme tell you folks, it’s big.
“Like, I didn’t grow up like Jason did, I didn’t go through the shit he went through” Parker starts “But I’m a Mexican, and lemme say, the last thing I'm doing is taking American jobs. For real, I can’t land a single fucking interview.”
“Oh honey, we know. Also, hot take but not actually, it’s not taking American jobs if you live here? Latinos have every right to get jobs in America and it’s b-s to say otherwise!”
“Well, Luthor will just have to go through first grade geography class again,” Parker huffed “As you can all guess, the people of Gotham weren’t happy!”
“Bold of you to assume he even passed the first time, he probably had to use daddy’s money to pay off his little rich-kid school. Dude Lex Luthor is like, the ultimate nepo-baby isn’t he? Didn’t he inherit his company from his dad? Lionel Luthor or something.”
“Bold of you to assume I know anything about business.”
“Unfortunately, the only thing I know about business is from Twitter and Fina, so I’m limited on my knowledge. Hey- speaking of, we should get Fina on the show, yeah?”
Parker made a sound that could only be described as skeptical. “I’m having a hard internal battle about if that’s a good idea or not. On one hand, I love Fina, but on the other hand, you have a hard time functioning like, normally around her.”
“But consider: she could join in on the Talk-About-Whatever segment and then wow the audience with her vast knowledge of way-too-much! We could make her analyze Bruce Waynes business patterns again?” There was a pleading edge to Bristol's voice.
“Okay, true, or make her analyze Lex Luthor's business patterns, or Oliver Queens! Get her talking about how much she hates the goatee!”
“Yes! You see my vision!”
“I say we talk about it more after the show. There are some, uhm, other things we should discuss regarding that.”
“What? Ohhhh- yes yes, we need to make sure certain events don’t happen if she comes in here.”
“Well now we’re both being ominous, which I thought we were supposed to save for the Ominous Predictions segment. Anyways, do you want to say the music recommendation for the day? Or do you care?”
Bristol coughed and set down their glass, “I would love to, considering this is one of my favourite songs right now! The song recommendation for tonight is ‘ Layla ’ by Eric Clapton, specifically the live acoustic version! Great, great song, I love Eric Clapton so much.
“Alright well, with that out of the way, this concludes tonight's episode of the Got Ham Radio Show. Thank you all for listening and, as always, at us on Twitter with drinks, song recommendations, and things to talk about in the Talk-About-Whatever segment!”
Both hosts spoke in unison, “Thank you and goodnight!”
Once again, static and haunted whispers were the only things to be heard, before most everyone switched channels or turned off their radios.