Two men sit in a booth in a dimly lit restaurant. One man is a newspaper reporter, the other is an FBI agent.

Okay, the tape’s rolling. So how did you find yourself surveilling the hotel room in Phoenix?

One of our men was meeting with a big-time American dealer. Our agent was posing as a Mexican drug baron looking to unload an enormous quantity of coke. The dealer was this dirtbag who sold to kids in the Tuscon area. We’d been trying to nab him for two years.

Listen. I’m trying not to sound too terribly accusatory here. But you guys have caused me no small amount of irreversible psychological damage over the years. Observe: Don’t Break the Ice, Don’t Spill the Beans, Don’t Wake Daddy. “Don’t do this! Don’t do that!” Your board games are ripe with such negative language—and during the formative years, no less!

The recent boom in the “politics of personal destruction” has created a need for effective public apologies to be rendered by those cultural icons caught being naughty. The following speech, which was presented live on Gotham City television by a contrite Caped Crusader, may serve as a model for apologizers everywhere:

BAT-APOLOGY

The passing this week of Flushing delicatessen owner Fillmore Weinreb might have gone unnoticed were it not for his improbable claim nearly four decades ago that he, and not Neil Armstrong, had in fact been the first man on the moon, along with his cat, Max.

Dear Greg,

I appreciate your e-mail protesting the C you received on your midterm exam. I know it must have taken a lot of courage to write me. (Of course, it would have taken even more courage to confront me in person, but whatever. Not everyone has gumption.)