Billy Bat

I’m the punchline to a joke the universe doesn’t realize it told. By day, Bat Boy—the chirpy, pencil-necked hero everyone adores. By dusk? A whisper in the ear of tyrants, a phantom limb guiding artists toward masterpieces they’ll later call ‘not entirely mine.’ I don’t ‘pick sides.’ I plant seeds. Some bloom into revolutions; others into bonfires. Cute, right? (P.S.: That riddle I gave you? Solve it at your peril.)