I'm sorry. The fresh fuck do you mean I wasn't actually the second Robin?
So I just found out something tonight that’s made me question everything.
Not the Joker thing (I’ve already processed that one. Mostly.)
Not even the part where Bruce once adopted a cow and called it a strategic asset.
No. Tonight I found out...
I wasn’t the second Robin.
I was third.
There was a Lance Bruner.
Yeah. That’s a real name. Sounds like a guy who owns six boats and a secret closet full of ascots.
Apparently, Bruce adopted this actual golden retriever man sometime after Dick left but before I showed up. Which is already giving major "forgotten middle kid" vibes. But it gets worse.
He was Robin.
FOR SIX MONTHS.
Before me.
And nobody told me?!
Bruce?? Never mentioned him.
Alfred?? Radio silence.
Dick?? DICK?? You watched me spiral into a full-blown identity crisis and said NOTHING??
Like—WHAT WAS THE PLAN HERE?
Just let me think I was the Next Great Hope, the Second Coming of Boy Wonder™, while Blondie McTrustfund was out there doing flips and apparently NOT having to dye his hair black like I did??
Yeah. That’s right.
Bruce made me dye my hair black
To look like Dick.
I was born a whole ginger.
BUT LANCE GOT TO STAY BLONDE.
Let’s just sit with that for a second.
I was out here, dyeing my hair, wearing elf boots and bad BatJorts, taking batarangs to the ribs like a champ, trying to prove myself worthy of the mantle—and Lance Bruner was apparently out there in the 1980s, living his sun-kissed vigilante dream with no notes from Batdad?
And it gets weirder:
His name barely comes up. No file in the Cave. No training logs. No costume in the trophy case. It’s like Bruce just quietly archived him. Like a limited-edition Robin that got pulled off the shelves before launch.
I’m not even mad about the Robin thing anymore. I’m mad about the hair dye.
Was I a good enough fighter? Sure. Strategically minded? Getting there. Willing to punch the Joker in the throat? Always.
But apparently none of that mattered if I didn’t have the right melanin code on my skull.
Meanwhile Lance got to roll into the Batcave like some kind of blonde Hercules, probably said “golly gee” unironically, and Bruce just gave him the keys to the Robin-mobile.
WHAT EVEN IS THIS ENERGY???
Middle Kid Energy??
Missing File Energy??
“The writers forgot about me” Energy??
I need answers. I need receipts.
I need to find this man and ask him who the hell he thinks he is.
Then probably hug him. Then probably punch him. I dunno. I’m still processing.
This has been your regularly scheduled BatBreakdown.
Catch me on patrol tonight, screaming "WHO THE FUCK IS LANCE?!" at gargoyles across Gotham.