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Language:
English
Series:
Part 3 of in which there is an anxious and gay talking car
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Published:
2022-05-08
Words:
400
Chapters:
1/1
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17
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501
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Three a.m. Snack

Summary:

Gas attendant meets the Batmobile and it can walk

It's a very polite car though

Notes:

  • Inspired by [Restricted Work] by (Log in to access.)

Pidgeapodge's hilarious fic is to blame for this drabble, please go give it a read. To be more specific it's inspired by Chapter 20, I just gave it a little spin in this AU

Also there's this extremely funny comic that perfectly illustrates his chapter

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Here is the thing in New Jersey: you cannot pump your own gas. A gas attendant has to do it. It isn’t the most exciting job, especially at three in the morning. But it is Alim’s turn for the night shift and he has to go through it, no matter how exhausted he is. When he comes back from his smoke break, rather quickly because he has heard a swear (probably from a grumpy night-owl customer), he stops dead in his tracks.

He squints.

He squints really hard.

The giant, black robot poking at the gas pump doesn’t disappear like a sleep-deprived hallucination.

When you live in Gotham, you get used to all kind of crazy shit. Clowns, speaking birds, horny plants, sentient shadows, fishes with human faces, people with fish faces, a few explosions a day and neon-coloured clouds are something the average citizen doesn’t bat an eye at, so a sheepish-looking robot with orange glasses is pretty mild, all things considered.

The robot (with a recognisable bat painted on its chest) notices Alim, freezes like a deer caught between headlights, then awkwardly motions to the pump.

“Um, I’m sorry, could you…?”

Alim shrugs to himself, gives the robot a thumbs-up and grabs the hose with practiced ease. 

“Regular or premium?” he asks as the robot unscrews the gas tank cap on his flank.

“Premium, please.”

God, even crouched the guy is massive. It must be twenty-five feet tall at least. But it’s the most polite customer Alim has had in months, so he isn’t complaining. When the pump finishes with a cheery ‘click’ (and Alim is surprised by how much fuel the engine has guzzled), the robot lets out a little burp that he covers with a giggle.

Alim won’t say it out loud, but it’s rather cute.

“Shukran, little man,” the robot grins with way too many teeth (and now he went from cute to mildly disturbing), before fishing from his torso four 100-dollar bills that look hilariously small between his fingers.

“Keep the change, and don’t breathe a word to B or he’ll be mad at me.”

Alim is too busy staring incredulously at the bills to notice the robot elegantly folding on himself, but he does recognise the car in his place before it quickly disappears into the night.

The Batmobile. He just pumped gas into the freaking Batmobile.

Alim can’t help but cackle hysterically.

Notes:

TIL something about the gas stations in the US lmao

Thanks for reading!