The ball bounced to a landing four yards from the pin.

    “Nice shot,” commented Hatman as he shouldered his own bag of clubs.

    “Thank you,” replied the Paragon of Power as he replaced his nine iron. The pair set out for the green.

    “So how is it a man with your strength doesn’t put the ball on, or over, the green every time?” asked Hatman.

    “Special clubs,” replied Dominic. “They’re laced with vibratium.”

    “They absorb enough of the impact so you don’t put the ball in orbit.” Hatman tried to remember how much it was going to cost for the vibratium he’d requisitioned to soundproof the hangar bay. “Those must’ve cost a fortune.”

    “The government paid for a substantial portion of them. I wrote the rest off as a business expense,” admitted Mr. Epitome. He set his bag down after selecting his putter, the stand automatiically deploying to keep it upright. Hatman set his next to it after selecting his own putter.

    “That’s kind of underhanded for a government agent, isn’t it?” chastised Hatman as he lined up his putt. He tapped the ball gently into the hole.

    “You’re trying to tell me that Jack Niklaus cap you’re wearing wasn’t deducted on your income taxes?” pointed out Mr. Epitome. He set the flag down to take his own shot.

    “I told you, I stink at golf. You said you didn’t mind.”

    “I don’t mind. My original question stands.” The birdie putt sank into the hole.

    “Well, yes, it was, but I never know what situation will need what cap,” Hatman defended himself. The pair picked up their clubs and made their way to the next hole.

    “And I find that bureaucrats often prefer to conduct informal meetings on the golf course as opposed to my office.”

    “Point taken.” Hatman fell silent as Epitome took his tee shot.

    “Nice drive. Speaking of the office, there was something I wanted to ask you. How do you deal with all the paperwork?”

    Mr. Epitome waited for Hatman to replace his driver back in his bag. “I don’t know that my job requires that much more paperwork than yours.”

    “Do you have any idea how many forms the Librarian shoves my way so he has ‘proper documentation’ of everything the Lair Legion does.” The duo fell into step next to each other.

    “Touche.”

    “Anyway, I’m finding I’m falling behind lately. Between my duties as Emergency Services Liaison, Tactical Advisor, and my volunteer work at the Zero Street Mission, I have next to no time for myself. This is the first time I’ve taken off in the last three weeks, superheroing notwithstanding. You’re government, so you must have at least as much red tape to deal with as I do, plus you run your own division of the OPS. How do you do it?”

    “Superspeed.”

    “You do everything at superspeed?”

    Mr. Epitome continued to speak as he lined up his shot. “Not everything. I obviously cannot utilize my swiftness while dealing with other people, but when I lock myself in the office with nothing but ‘red tape’, as you put it, to deal with, I can use my full speed to get it done quickly.” He pulled back his five iron and fired the ball towards the green.

    “Don’t you find it difficult not to make mistakes moving that fast?” Hatman had tried a similar tactic with his Supersonics cap before but found he made too many errors for it to be worthwhile.

    “I proofread at superspeed as well.”

    “Hmm. That works.”

    “There’s something I wanted to ask you as well.”

    Hatman used his four iron to bounce his ball next to Epitome’s. “Shoot.”

    “How is it somebody like you, a reasonable, logical man, can actually be partners with an agent of chaos like CrazySugarFreakBoy!?" This was something that had always puzzled the Paragon of Power, and he hated puzzles.

    Hatman laughed. “Dream can be difficult to get along with at times, but there’s nobody who will fight harder for what is right and just. Once you realize that, you get along just fine.”

    “But who decides what is right.” It wasn’t a question.

    “I think that’s where you two have the most difficulty with each other. You’re strictly a law and order guy, whereas Dream goes with that he believes instinctually. I think that both approaches have merit, but there are flaws with both.”

    “You seem to go back and forth between the two yourself,” Dominic pointed out as they walked.

    Hatman frowned. “I do my very best to do things by the book. But if something written on paper fifty years ago tells me not to help somebody who needs help now, I’m not going to let that stop me from saving their life.”

    “I agree that not all of our laws necessarily apply by the letter in this day and age, but if we don’t do things the way we’re legally required those in power will never see that they need to be changed.” Hatman broke away from him to remove the flag from the hole for Mr. Epitome.

    “I agree with you in sentiment, but I’m not making somebody’s mother or sister out to be the example.” He set the flag down out of the way.

    “The needs of the many…” Mr. Epitome felt the sentence didn’t need completing as he made his putt.

    “I know you don’t mean that Dominic. I’ve seen you in action. As much as you pretend not to care about the needs of the individual, you do. Not everyone sees that, but I do. It’s one of the reasons I supported your entry into the Lair Legion.” Hatman squatted down to line up his own putt.

    “I’m not sure whether I should thank you or curse you for that.”

    “The mighty Mr. Epitome makes a joke? I’d best call the tabloids,” said Hatman after he tapped his own ball in.

    “I wasn’t joking.”

    “I know you had some good times in the Lair Legion, Dominic. And I hope someday you come back and join us. You could do a lot of good if you stopped letting immaterial chains hold you back.” Hatman was interrupted by the bleeping of his Communicard as he reached into the hole to retrieve their balls. “Excuse me a moment.”

    Hatman briefly conversed with Hallie while Epitome began to pack up his bag. If the Legion was calling Hatman on his first day off in weeks that would mean a crisis had arisen, one that would definitely call an end to their round.

    “I’m going to have to bail. It’s just the Frightful Four, but I’m by far the closest available Legionnaire. Care to lend a hand?”

    “After your rousing speech about rejoining the Lair Legion? That sounds like a set up to me.” Epitome paused for a moment. “You also don’t need my help to deal with those buffoons.”

    Hatman laughed. “Yeah, I know, but I thought you might like the workout. Mind dropping my clubs off at the clubhouse for me?”

    “Consider it done.”

    Hatman pulled some caps from his bag and affixed them to his belt. He put the Niklaus cap back in the bag and replaced it with his Winnipeg Jets cap. “See you later Dominic. Thanks for the game!” he called as he rocketed away.

    Mr. Epitome easily shouldered the extra bag and started back for the clubhouse. Hatman spoke with conviction, but there were inner workings within the government he just didn’t understand. Somebody had to look at the bigger picture. And that somebody was him.

~Hat~