

Then gave me this paint, right?” Bart dangled the paint-roller in his hand, which was currently a ghastly mixture of bright pink and periwinkle. “Well, he told me I could paint the place. “You’re totally in trouble.” Jaime grinned. Right above the window nearest to the entrance, was Cosmo from the Fairly OddParents.īart shrugged. Streaks of the approved slate blue, along with neon orange and pink and a yellowish-green color, screamed at every corner and splattered on the cement floor. However, in the hour Bart volunteered to paint, the walls were colored in long strokes with no real beginning or end. Tarp had been laid around the room earlier on in hopes of keeping the floor dry. “I don’t think Nightwing will be happy about the mess you made, hermano.”

Jaime whistled skeptically as he observed the handiwork of their speedster. The corner of Robin’s mouth curled upward. He halted, balancing on one leg and gazing up to Robin. Padding the room in a seventh round, Bart only stopped when he saw the mannequin-like figures of his friends. More than perfect, Bart decided in his head. It was nowhere near the mass of the Watchtower up in the sky (not that he’d ever seen it), but according to Nightwing, it would be perfect for them. He circled the future comm.-center with a paint roller in hand, dabbing the colors over the walls with delight. Apparently people were for the idea when Bart wrote it on the ballot. Twelve floors fitted with an engine room, an infirmary, crime lab, training room and-hey, even a home theatre room.
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Large windows defined the walls, allowing any viewer to see Happy Harbor from a distance. The room extended from one end to another like the length of a basketball court.
