MiSTed: Batman - Rebirth
Jeff Kirvin
written by yours truly about five years ago. (My writing
is much better now.) Enjoy!
Jeff Kirvin
lun...@us.net
---------------------------------------------------------
Rebirth
by Jeff Kirvin
"He's out there, Jim."
CROW: And he's ready to PARTY!
Gotham City Police Commissioner James Gordon
TOM: Has a secret. He's not like the other men...
took his
time lighting his pipe and looked at the man speaking to
him. Even though the man was a vigilante dressed in a blue
and grey costume designed to resemble a bat,
MIKE: He had still never been arrested and locked up.
Gordon
trusted him implicitly. Over the years, most of Gotham
City learned to trust and respect the man known as the
Dark Knight Detective.
CROW: So they trust Batman?
TOM: Pretty much.
Gordon inhaled some pipe smoke and
spoke.
MIKE: [coughs loudly]
"What do think he's going to do, Batman?"
TOM: He's going to put on a Broadway show!
MIKE: No, he's gonna win the Nobel prize!
CROW: No, no, no, he's gonna become an ambassador to the
United Nations!
The "he" in question was a white-skinned, green-haired
homicidal maniac known as the Joker, recently escaped from
the Arkam Asylum for the Criminally Insane.
CROW: In that case, he's probably just gonna kill people.
Gordon
immediately called Batman upon hearing the news,
MIKE: Because he just needed someone to listen.
simply
because Batman knew the Joker better than anyone else. It
often appeared to Gordon that Batman and the Joker seemed
to be reflections of each other, the superego and id of
the same mind.
TOM: Oooh, how deep... Does the author think he's _Freud_,
now?
MIKE: You know, you don't see many Freudian psychology
references in a Batman fanfic.
CROW: For good reason.
Batman stared out Gordon's office window into the
night sky a long time before answering. "I really don't
know, Jim. All these years that we've been fighting and I
still don't really know him.
TOM: I thought the author just said Batman knew the Joker
better than anyone else. Just what the heck's going on?
MIKE: Does anybody _really_ know anybody else?
Hell, for all I know, he may
even go right back to Arkam just to spite us.
CROW: And wouldn't that just be a hoot!
Are you
sure he didn't leave any clues, nothing to indicate where
he might turn up?"
"Well, if that poor guard saw anything, he didn't live
long enough to tell anyone. Who would have thought he
could mix that deadly smile gas out of cleaning products?"
TOM: Anyone expecting a bad plot device.
Batman exhaled a tired sigh. "Nothing he does
surprises me anymore."
CROW: Is it just me, or has there been NO ACTION so far
in this fanfic?
Gordon walked over and put his hand on his friend's
weary shoulder.
"Look, Batman, you've been trying to piece this together
non-stop for days.
TOM: WHOA! I though Gordon called him as soon as the Joker
escaped. Now we find out he's been out for days? What's going
on?
MIKE: I don't think the author knows either.
Why don't you head home and get some
sleep and let me contact you the moment something comes
up?"
"Maybe you're right, Jim." Batman began to crawl out
the window, but stopped and looked at Gordon halfway
through.
CROW: About at his pancreas.
"You know how to contact me," he said, and then
he was gone.
MIKE: Plummetting to his death to be dashed to bits on the
jagged rocks below.
TOM: Another senseless banana-peel-on-the-ledge accident.
Batman worried. Even as he pulled the Batmobile into
MIKE: traffic, narrowly avoiding being sideswiped by a
cabbie,
the seemingly endless cave that he used as a base of
operations, he couldn't shake the feeling that something
catastrophic was about to happen.
TOM: A plot point was coming up. He could just feel it.
Not that the Joker's
escape was something to take lightly,
CROW: A homicidal maniac who's caused hundreds of deaths
is running loose? Ah, call me when something _important_
happens.
but there was
something else troubling him, something that he couldn't
put his finger on.
TOM: He forgot to take the Batmobile in for periodic
maintenance.
He parked the Batmobile and changed into his civilian
garb.
MIKE: Hey! How come I don't have any garb? I just have
these stupid jumpsuits...
He liked to think that he helped Gotham City as
much as millionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne as he did
as the Batman.
TOM: But the truth was that he was an elitist snob, a
burden on society.
As he walked up a stone staircase to Wayne
Manor, he was greeted by Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's
butler, friend and confidant ever since Bruce was a child.
The slim, elderly man waited for Bruce to pass, and then
followed him upstairs.
"So, master Bruce, how did your conference with the
Commissioner go?"
CROW: Oh, same old thing. We're doing lunch next week.
Bruce adjusted a lever on the wall allowing him to
enter Wayne Manor from a secret passageway behind a
large grandfather clock.
"Not too well, Alfred. Jim doesn't have a clue to
what the
MIKE: Hell is going on here.
Joker has planned. I'm going to get some sleep.
If anything important happens, by all means wake me."
"As always, sir."
CROW: [as Alfred, under his breath] Stingy SOB. 30 years
without a raise...
Bruce Wayne slept restlessly until late the following
afternoon. Actually, Bruce hadn't slept soundly since he
was seven years old. Since then, every time Bruce Wayne
closed his eyes, he watched his parent die.
MIKE: Which parent?
It had started out as such an enjoyable night.
The young Bruce and his parents, Dr. Thomas and Martha
Wayne, had gone out to see Douglas Fairbanks in The Mark
of Zorro at the old Monarch Theater. While walking through
a part of town that would come to be known as Crime Alley,
MIKE: Well there you go. They were asking for it...
they were stopped unexpectedly by a small-time mugger
named Joe Chill.
TOM: OOOOOOO! Joe _CHILL_!
Bruce got a fleeting look at the Colt
45
ALL: WORKS EVERY TIME!
that took his parents' lives. He felt the shock in
his father's hand as the steeljacketed hollow-point bullet
exploded in his father's chest.
CROW: Hey! Nobody told me this was a Stanley Kubrick fanfic!
The man that took all
stability from his life was a cowardly sort, and he ran
off into the ebon night
TOM: "Ebon" night?
leaving young Bruce alone.
CROW: Because Bruce really just needed some time to himself.
When Bruce awoke,
TOM: Whoa! Is he still a kid or what?
MIKE: Apparently the author can use a phrase like "ebon
night" but hasn't mastered the art of paragraph breaks.
he silently dined with Alfred and then
adjourned to his study to do some research on the Joker's
diagnosed illness, hebephrenic schizophrenia.
TOM: "Hebephrenic schizophrenia"?
CROW: Well, this fanfic's giving me the hebee jebees...
He became so
totally absorbed in his findings that he didn't even
notice
MIKE: The seven space ninja enter the room.
Alfred enter the room
MIKE: Oh.
CROW: Hey, with this fanfic you could've been right.
until the butler laid a
gentle hand on Bruce's shoulder.
"I believe the Commissioner is attempting to contact
you, sir."
CROW: You putz.
Bruce stopped his reading and looked out the study
window, the same window shattered years before by the bat
that inspired his alter-ego. In the night sky, reflected
against the seemingly eternal smog, was a pale, yellow
circle encasing the stylized form of a bat: the Bat Signal.
MIKE: Man, Gotham City's a pretty depressing place...
Barely fifteen minutes later, the Batmobile screeched
to a halt in front of Police Headquarters.
CROW: Where he was given a ticket for reckless driving.
Gordon was
already waiting for Batman on the sidewalk.
Batman leapt from the car. "What is it, Jim?"
MIKE: [Leslie Neilson voice] It's the Batmobile, but that's
not important right now.
TOM: Ladies and gentlemen, the Airplane bit.
"The Joker has just shown himself.
CROW: To a group of preschoolers and nuns, the fiend!
He's managed to
take the entire Gotham Mall hostage. He told the press
that he would kill one person every hour until he thinks
of some demands, after which he will kill two people an
hour. He's managed to enlist enough goons so there's no
way we can get anywhere near the place undetected.
TOM: Effective cops in this town.
CROW: Hey, one shmuck in a cape does more than the whole
police force. What does that tell ya?
I
honestly believe that he's waiting for you to come and
get him. When is this maniac going to be stopped, Batman?"
MIKE: A week from Thursday!
Gordon was not sure, but he thought that in the two
seconds it took Batman to get in the car and drive away,
he heard the Dark Knight Detective whisper, "Tonight."
ALL: oooooo.
The Gotham Mall was a scene of complete and total
lunacy. This, of course, was exactly how it should be,
thought the Joker as he paced up and down the central
staircase. At the base of the stairs, the Joker paused at
a group of a dozen or so very upset looking people.
TOM: Kidnapped by a homicidal maniac and they're upset.
MIKE: Go figure.
"Hey, what's with all the long faces?
CROW: He's at a Mr. Ed lookalike convention!
[silence]
CROW: Cause... see, horses have these long faces and...
What're trying to
do, ruin my party?" He walked over to the one on the far
left (or is that the far right? The Joker always did have
such trouble with directions),
MIKE: Hey! I thought the Joker was supposed to be funny!
lifted his Uzi, and fired a
short burst into the man's chest. "See what happens
when you worry your life away? So in the words of the
immortal sage, don't worry, be happy! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA!"
TOM: Mike, make it stop!
This caused more screaming and crying
than before, and the Joker's perpetual, maniacal grin
faltered for just a moment. As he sighed in frustration
and stalked off, he mumbled to himself, "Some people just
don't know how to act at a party."
CROW: Some people just don't know how to write a fanfic...
Mark McClure
CROW: Hi, I'm Mark McClure. You might recognize me from this
horrible fanfic...
couldn't believe what he'd got himself
into. Sure, he thought, working for the Joker paid a lot
better than mugging and car theft,
MIKE: And his high school guidance counsellor said he'd
never amount to anything.
TOM: Yes, I'm here about the flunky position...
but even being anywhere
near that lunatic was dangerous. He remembered just six
or seven hours before, when the Joker shot Manny just
because Manny said that the Batman had a nice car.
MIKE: Oh, that Manny...
No,
Mark thought, I'm getting myself outta this mess as soon
as this job is done. Between Batman and the Joker, it's
getting to where it's not safe to be a crook in Gotham City
anymore.
ALL: [muted trumpet] Bwah bwah bwahhhh...
Just then Mark felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Excuse me."
When Mark turned around to see who was
talking to him, he barely managed to catch a glimpse of a
blue and grey batlike figure before a powerful right hook
knocked him unconscious.
CROW: And this scene existed because...
The Joker was getting impatient. "Come on,
Bat-brain," he mumbled, "how long are you going to make me
wait? Hey, Bill..." He looked around, a little surprised
to find that none of his henchmen were anywhere to be
seen. He picked up his walkie-talkie.
"Bill?" No answer.
"Mark?" Also no answer.
"Abduhl?" Also also no answer.
TOM: God no! He's doing the Holy Grail credits!
"Tom? Dick? Harry?" Now this was
starting to get annoying. What good were goons if they're
not around to scream at? "If they've gone out for coffee
and doughnuts and don't bring me some," the Joker said to
a terrified captive, I'll kill them before I kill you."
TOM: Huh? Is the narrator threatening us?
He paused a moment and then lifted his gun. "On second
thought... HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" The hostage
didn't even get time to scream.
MIKE: In the mall no one can hear you scream.
This is going far better than expected, thought the
Batman. Most of the Joker's goons didn't even know what
hit them. Now that I'm in position, capturing the Joker
himself shouldn't be too difficult. He's got no backup,
and I've got the element of surprise.
CROW: _Batman_ has to psych himself up?
Almost as if on cue, just then a woman in the crowd
turned around and yelled, "Thank God, we're saved! It's
Batman!"
The corners of Batman's mouth drooped heavily.
Thanks, lady, he thought, you've just made my job that
much more difficult.
CROW: You know, he just isn't enthused about this. Maybe he
needs some time off.
TOM: Yeah, it's real easy to get burnt out in that line of
work.
Batman saw the Joker turn to face him.
"Batman, darling! So glad you could come! Tell me what
do you think of my little shindig?" He raised his Uzi and
fired.
Batman dropped to the floor and rolled away
from the hail of bullets. "It's over tonight, Joker.
They've got a nice little maximum security isolated cell
waiting for you back at Arkam."
TOM: So you're saying he'll have his own room, then.
The Joker took on a look of shock and fear. "No!
I'm not ready to go back there! I've already subscribed
to Sports Illustrated!" He stopped at a family of three,
mother, father and young son. "Don't come any closer,
or I waste the kid!"
MIKE: Ah, the kid's probably already wasted...
The Dark Knight's eyes widened and he stopped
immediately.
"No!"
CROW: Did he need a dialog coach for that?
"Okey dokey." the Joker laughed as he blew away
the father and mother, leaving the child unharmed.
CROW: Well, at least we have some action now.
TOM: I'd rather go back to the insipid dialog.
As he watched the biggest trauma of his life played
out before his eyes, something snapped inside the Batman.
MIKE: His femur. He tripped over a chair.
With a scream of primal rage, he covered the twenty yards
between him and the Joker in the time that it took his foe
to turn around. He hit the Joker airborne, carrying them
both through the plate glass entry-way and out into the
parking lot.
MIKE: [Minnesotan voice] Ooh, he's gonna feel that in the
morning...
The parking lot was extremely well-lit,
not because of it's own lighting, but because of the
dozens of spotlights and flashbulbs belonging to
representatives from virtually every television station
and newspaper in the tri-state area.
TOM: That brings up a good point, Mike. Where exactly
_is_ Gotham City?
MIKE: Well, I always thought it was analagous to New
York City.
TOM: But in some stories, we see Batman _in_ New York!
CROW: Actually, Gotham City, Metropolis and New York
City are three independent parts of one huge metropolitan
area, like Minneapolis and St. Paul.
TOM & MIKE: Oh.
"You're dead, Joker!" screamed the Batman
TOM: More of that brilliant original dialog.
CROW: I think the author had a bunch of cliche stock
lines, and drew them out of a hat.
MIKE: No no no, this is an early draft no one talks about
of that infinite monkeys with typewriters expiriment.
as he pummeled the Joker with a well-executed haymaker,
CROW: As opposed to a shabby, run-of-the-mill haymaker.
sending his foe reeling out of control.
The Joker managed to compose himself far enough
from Batman's reach to speak. "Hey, what's the big
idea, Bats? You're supposed to be the good guy. You can't
really hurt me."
The Dark Knight grabbed the Joker with both hands
around the throat. He pulled the maniac within inches
of his face and snarled, "Wanna BET?"
MIKE: Place your bets! Place your bets!
The Batman flung the Joker powerfully by the neck onto
the pavement fifteen feet away.
The Joker wiped the blood off his face, the first
part of his anatomy to hit the ground. "You can't DO
this to me! It's not FAIR!"
CROW: This may well be the wordiest action sequence I've
ever _seen_!
"This is Bill Safford, here with the WGHT news crew.
We're standing in the parking lot of the Gotham Mall,
which has been held hostage for the past three hours by
the escaped lunatic known only as the Joker. Right now,
the Joker is being apprehended by Gotham's favorite son,
the costumed vigilante known as the Batman. We have
camera feed... now!
"We can see the Joker and Batman struggling...
CROW: So the rest of the fight will be _described_ to us?
Wake me when it's over.
MIKE: Crow, that's no way to act. Pay attention.
By the way, we apologize for the lack of sound. Most
of our sound equipment was disabled when the Joker crashed
into it. The Joker is screaming something about this not
being fair. Batman doesn't seem to be in the mood to
listen, and hey, who can blame him?
MIKE: If only more vigilantes had this kind of media support.
Dozens of gunshots and a bit of machine gun fire were heard
from within the mall in recent hours. It must be a blood-bath
in there.
"Wait, they're grappling in close quarters...
I can't believe it!
TOM: 'S not butter!
In an attempt to put
Batman in a headlock, the Joker has pulled Batman's mask
off! Larry, zoom in... My God! It's Bruce Wayne,
millionaire playboy and philanthropist! Yes, ladies and
gentlemen, The Batman is Bruce Wayne! I can't believe it.
But wait! Let's stick with the action and see what else
turns up...
MIKE: My God! Bruce Wayne was the other gunman in the JFK
assasination!
"Batm... I mean Bruce
TOM: Bruce Wayne and this shmuck reporter are on a first
name basis?
seems unphased by
his unmasking and is literally beating the Joker into the
ground. I think I see Gotham City Police Commissioner
James Gordon rushing to the scene ... The police are
pulling Wayne off the Joker's unconscious form... WHAT?
Turn off the cameras? You can't be serious. Hey, it's
called freedom of the press pal, it's in the Constitution!
What do mean, `special police investigation'? Hey! Get
away from that control panel! You can't d--"
ALL: YAY!!!
"Mister Wayne, do you have a statement?"
TOM: Yes. All Spiderman fans are godless communists.
Bruce couldn't believe this turn of events. It
had barely been five hours since his unmasking and every
reporter on the Eastern Seaboard wanted to know about his
life as Batman. "Yes I do. One of the things that made
Batman work was his anonymity. Now that that has been
stripped away, his activities as a crime-fighter would be
severely hampered and his vulnerabilities magnified.
CROW: Why is still referring to Batman in the third-person?
MIKE: To illustrate the depth of his multiple personality
disorder.
No, I'm afraid that in light of the present situation,
as the Batman, I am forced to retire, effective immediately."
"But Mister Wayne..."
"If I may continue, I would like to announ...
no that's not quite right. I don't like this at all, but
I'm doing it anyway. As proof of my retirement, next week
I will hold and auction for all of my paraphernalia. The
Batmobile, costumes, utility belts, I'm selling it all to
the highest bidder, and donating the proceeds to urban
renewal in the East Side. That's all I've got to say.
Good-bye."
TOM: So he has all this high-tech paramilitary equipment
that makes what the police use look like tinker toys, and
he's gonna sell it to any dweeb with cash?
"Bruce, you can't be serious."
"And just why not, Jim? The Batman is useless
without the element of surprise and fear that he inspires,
you know that."
CROW: Our primary weapon is fear. Fear and surprise. Our
_two_ primary weapons are surprise, fear and ruthless
efficiency...
"But Bruce..."
"Look, Jim, I'll make it real simple.
TOM: So that even you can understand.
Batman is dead. I am never putting on the cape and cowl
again. I don't like it any more than you do, but the
Batman's time has passed. I'm still going to help Gotham
as much as possible, but as a philanthropist, not as a
vigilante. You can always count on my financial support
for your police, Jim, but as Police Commissioner, you're
going to have to get by without the aid of a dead
crime-fighter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an entire
life to disassemble."
Gotham City was bathed in shadow.
ALL: [surprised] AAAGGGHHH!
MIKE: Nice transition there.
In the five months
since Batman's retirement, the crime rate in Gotham had
risen six-hundred percent.
CROW: Gotham's police force pretty much sucks.
The police were understaffed
and the hoods were more daring.
TOM: They were wearing stripes with plaid!
That was all about to change.
CROW: WARNING: Plot point to follow.
In the old section of Gotham City, many of the
buildings still had stone gargoyles, left over from a time
long past when the statues were supposed to protect the
young city from evil. Most of the gargoyles were really
grotesque,
MIKE: Modelled after Rush Limbaugh.
artfully endowed with sharply pointed ears and
large, leathery-looking wings. It had been raining in
Gotham that night, and in the brilliant illumination of
the past lightning storm, many of the gargoyles cast even
more grotesque shadows.
One of the shadows was moving.
MIKE: No, wait. That's a rat. Sorry. Nevermind.
As the shadow moved out on to a ledge, to be bathed in
the light of Gotham's night life far below, a golden oval
could be seen on its ebony chest. And within that oval,
the shape of a bat.
MIKE: I saw that coming a mile away. How about you guys.
CROW: Yep!
TOM: Pretty much.
"I don't know about this, Charlie. This don't feel
right ta me."
MIKE: I'm being scripted with a corny stock "hood" accent.
"Look, Sid, quit your gripin'. I know this is the
first time you've ripped off a car, but chill
the hell out, for Chrissakes! Ya ain't got nothin' ta
worry about."
CROW: We'll be outta this here fanfic inna minute.
The two hoods stood under a streetlight,
trying to break into a new Saab 9000.
MIKE: Ooh, they're cheap hoods with bad taste in cars...
Charlie, the older,
more experienced crook in his mid-twenties, was having
enough trouble getting past the security system on the
car. He didn't feel like having to calm this snivelling
teenage brat he brought along as a lookout.
MIKE: Isn't that always the way with teenage brats though?
"But Charlie, what about the cops?"
"Cops? Fer cryin' out loud, those stiffs got enough
heavy crime on their hands now that Wayne retired. They
ain't gonna worry 'bout us. Now clam up and calm down."
MIKE: He's so self assured about grand theft auto...
"No, Sid, don't calm down."
"What?" Charlie whirled around so fast he
almost gave himself whiplash. Behind him was a basically
man-shaped, jet-black apparition, complete with leathery
wings and pointed ears, different, but totally recognizable.
CROW: Truman Capote?
Once past the initial shock, Charlie pulled from his
belt the .357 Magnum that he always kept there for just
such an occasion. He aimed carefully at the creature.
"You made a big mistake comin' outta retirement, Wayne!"
he yelled as he fired the powerful weapon.
MIKE: Well, you know, pensions these days aren't really enough
to live on...
The bullet connected with its intended target,
sending the body flying into a brick wall.
TOM: BATMAN! The human bullet-stop!
Charlie turned to Sid, grinning from ear to ear.
"SEE? That wasn't so tough! I don't see what the big deal
was witHey! What're you gapin' at?"
TOM: Your jarring sentence structure.
Sid pointed a badly shaking finger behind Charlie,
back to where the body was. Charlie whirled again,
suddenly worried about more than whiplash.
MIKE: He just remembered he left his iron on.
The bat-creature had risen, and was walking
slowly towards them. When it spoke again, it spoke not so
much with a voice, but an unearthly growl.
"Judging from what I've seen, my predecessor went too
lightly on you punks. I should have expected this. After
all, Bruce Wayne was only human."
CROW: Pretty wordy for a growl.
TOM: Well, it was an _unearthly_ growl.
This was more than Sid could take. "An.. An...and you?"
The creature smiled, a malevolent grin straight from the
bowels of Hell itself. "I'm not."
TOM: Oh PLEASE! Could we have just a little _more_ melodrama?
CROW: Even Adam West's Batman is less campy than this...
Charlie grabbed the twelve gauge shotgun
that he brought along from Sid
MIKE: So did he bring it along, or did Sid?
and aimed it at the ebon
ALL: EBON!
demon before him. Before he could fire it, however, it was
snatched away by one of the thing's claws.
TOM: Claws? What the heck?
The creature snarled at Charlie as it effortlessly
snapped the shotgun over its knee. "These things cannot
harm me. You," he sneered as he grabbed Charlie, "should
fear me."
MIKE: No, really, you should, 'cause I'm so powerful and
scary and stuff.
Charlie took a wild swing
CROW: Wild swing, I think I love you.
at the creature, only to
acquire a broken arm and four fractured ribs when he
slammed into a lamppost. Sid soon joined him, possessing
similar injuries.
TOM: Every time the action picks up, the author goes clinical
on us.
MIKE: I've had dates like this.
The thing wrapped itself in its wings. "The time of
coddling you scum by my predecessor is long past. Tell your
friends and fear for your lives. No matter what you say,
no matter what you do, Gotham's criminals will never be
safe," the thing said as it spread its wings wide, "from
the Batman."
ALL: Ooooooo.
And then he was gone.
"Congratulations, Bruce!"
ALL: [surprised] Aaah!
TOM: Another smooth scene transition, there.
"Thanks, Jim, I think. What the hell are talking about?"
"Your comeback, of course! It's about bloody well time
that you made your reappearance as Batman!"
CROW: When did Commissioner Gordon become British?
"WHAT? There's another Batman out there now?"
"Oh, come on, Bruce, we both that it's you under that
mask."
CROW: Wink wink, nudge nudge, say no MORE!
Bruce sounded hesitant. "No, Jim. I swore that I'd
never put on the Batman uniform again and I meant it. If
there's another guy out there trying to pick up where I left
off, I wish him well. Maybe sometime he can come over and
we'll talk shop. Oh, and Jim, just to be on the safe side,
don't be lulled into complacency by memories of me. If this
new Batman steps out of line, then it's your job as a police
officer to stop him."
"Oh, Bruce, something that I forgot to mention. The
Joker jut escaped from Arkam again this morning."
MIKE: Change subjects much?
"It's not my problem any more, Jim. Excuse me." He paused.
"Jim, Alfred says that I've got a press conference on my front
lawn. Thanks for cluing me in on what it's about. I'll talk
to you later. Bye." James Gordon stared quizzically at the
phone.
TOM: Oh! They were on the phone! Nice of the author to explain that...
MIKE: Maybe it was inferred.
He had known Bruce, both as Bruce Wayne and the Batman,
for a long time. This just didn't seem like Bruce. Then again,
judging from the previous night's reports, this new Batman
was a lot tougher on the crooks than Bruce ever was.
CROW: This new Batman was a _man's_ Batman.
This
definitely warranted further investigation.
"Well, Mister Wayne, what do you have to say for
yourself?"
TOM: You know, just an extra carriage return would suffice.
With a curious sense of deja vu, Bruce stood on his
balcony and looked out over the reporters. "I just got off
the phone with Commissioner Gordon. Believe it or not, that
was the first I heard about this new `Batman'."
CROW: If that is his real name!
"Come now Mister Wayne, you don't honestly expect us to
buy that story."
TOM: Heck, they can't even afford enough commas!
Bruce held his hands out in front of him as if pushing
an immobile object. "I know that it sounds incredulous, but
it's the truth. Apparently, someone has decided to pick up
where I left off and carry on the legacy. I'll have to wait
and see if he's a concerned citizen, like me, or a deranged
lunatic, like the Joker, before I can say that I approve of
him. I can see that you're not convinced.
ALL: DUH!
I'll tell you what.
ALL: What?
I'm going to go out on a limb here and count on this new
guy being as dedicated as I was. All night tonight, I'll
be at the Syd Barrett Memorial Ball at the Fleugelheim
Museum of Art.
TOM: Oh, this is clever. A Pink Floyd reference and a ripoff
of the Batman movie all in one sentence.
Batman, if you can hear me,
MIKE: Raise your hand.
do something,
anything, tonight. Nobody, not even me, can be two places
at once."
TOM: Unless one of them's a double.
MIKE: You don't think he'd use that old cliche, do you?
TOM: I wouldn't bet against it.
"This is Jane Gilman, WGHT News. True to his word,
Bruce Wayne has arrived at the Syd Barrett Memorial Ball.
TOM: [groans]
The question on everybody's minds at this moment is:
CROW: 42!
MIKE: No, that's the answer. There's a difference.
Where is the Batman? Is he here, as Bruce Wayne? Or was
Wayne telling the truth this morning and the new Batman is
out there somewhere, fighting crime in his true legendary
fashion?
TOM: Does Batman have a publicist?
We'll go back to the station now, with more
bulletins as events warrant."
"Well, Bruce, do you think he'll show?"
TOM: Ugh.
"Mmmmm?" Bruce looked up from his lobster thermidore
and into the eyes of the woman next to him at the long dinner
table. Jennifer Thomas was manager of one of Gotham's leading
art galleries, and a long time acquaintance of Bruce Wayne.
"What are you talking about, Jen?"
"Why, the Batman, of course.
ALL: Ohhhh...
Do you think he'll show?"
Bruce wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned back
in his chair. "Well," he said, "if he's as committed
CROW: "Committed" being the operative word...
to the
job as I was, there shouldn't be a problem. Why are you
smirking like that?"
TOM: [Spanish accent] Because I know something you don't know.
_I_ am not left handed.
"That was an interesting choice of words, because that's
what a lot of people said about you."
"Excuse me?"
"That you should have been committed. Honestly, Bruce,
there were times you seemed as crazy as the Joker."
"Don't compare me to him. The man's psychotic."
"Well, how do we know that your's wasn't just a
benevolent psychosis? No offense, Bruce, but a normal person
does not dress up like a bat and beat up criminals.
I understand that you did it to avenge your parents, but look
at what you've started. What if this new Batman isn't as
benevolent as you were?"
"Then it's Jim's job to stop him."
MIKE: [ominous] By any means neccesary.
"Jim couldn't stop you. Don't you see that it's wrong
to act as judge and jury? Didn't ever once occur to you that
you may have been after a innocent man?"
MIKE: [singing] I aaaaammmmmm, an innocent maaaannnnn...
Bruce frowned grimly. "I didn't act as judge and jury.
I merely apprehended suspects. That is why Jim officially
deputized me years ago. I was a special police officer."
TOM: He had a little badge in his utility belt.
"I know that, Bruce, but your successor works outside
the law. What if he turns out to be a Joker in a Batsuit
after all?"
CRASH!
ALL: AAAHHH!
"Did someone mention my name?"
The Joker stood at the door to the kitchen, dressed as
a tacky, brightly colored chef and standing behind a desert
cart.
TOM: In a tacky, brightly colored fanfic.
He pushed the cart over to Bruce and pulled a
flame-thrower from underneath it. "Our special for desert
tonight, Bat Flambe! Come on, Brucie, put on your ears so
we can play!"
CROW: God no! He's rhyming!
MIKE: It'll be over soon.
"Jane Gilman, WGHT News. Major turn of events here at
the Syd Barrett Memorial Ball. The Joker has just
appeared and is demanding that Bruce Wayne become Batman
and confront him. We now join the action in progress."
TOM: But first, a word from our sponsor.
"You're mad Joker!" yelled Bruce at the insanely grinning
ghoul before him.
TOM: Is this a bad short story, or a bad poem?
"Why, thank you, Mister Wayne. How nice of you to notice."
MIKE: [Minnesotan voice] He's so pleasant and well mannered for
a psychotic killer...
Bruce looked frustrated. "You pallid, pasty-faced buffoon!
I couldn't become Batman now if I wanted to! I sold all of my
paraphernalia, remember? I'M NOT BATMAN!"
TOM: Mike, do humans _ever_ talk like this?
MIKE: Not in my neighborhood.
The Joker considered this, and then frowned deeply.
MIKE: I hate a shallow frown.
"Oh dear," he muttered, "this is rather depressing. I guess I'll
just have to kill everyone in this room, starting with your
lady-friend here." He leveled a gun at Jennifer and leaned down
to say to her, "I'm going to blow the back of your skull across
the room. Isn't that nice?" He turned to Bruce and cackled, "Talk
about a scatter-brained air-head! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA!"
TOM: MIKE, MAKE IT STOP!
The Joker's despicable deed was interrupted, however, by the
sound of breaking glass. All eyes in the room turned toward the
shattered skylight to see the pitch-black, batlike figure descend
to the floor and face the Joker.
"Drop the gun, Joker! Wayne isn't Batman anymore. If you
want trouble, have it with me!"
MIKE: Have it your way!
The Joker looked back and forth from Bruce Wayne to the
raven-clad
CROW: How many ways can the author say "black"?
figure claiming to be Batman. Finally he stomped on
the floor like a spoiled child. "What is this," he screamed,
"some kind of joke?"
The Batman smiled.
CROW: It's not a very good joke...
The Joker recovered quickly. He grabbed Jen and put his
gun to her head. "Not one more step, or I ventilate her!"
The Dark Knight didn't hesitate. He pulled out a strange
looking gun from his utility belt and fired a grappling hook
through the Joker's pants leg.
TOM: Good aim...
He yanked on the rope, bringing
the Joker down and sending the fiend's gun flying. Despite the
Joker's struggling, Batman pulled him in close. He gabbed his
enemy by the brightly colored lapels and said, "This is the end,
Joker. Here's the punchline."
CROW: Batman played by Arnold Swartzenegger.
Batman landed a left hook on the Joker's jaw that any
professional boxer would have envied.
TOM: Oooh, I want that left hook...
Before the Joker could
recover, a roundhouse kick sent him reeling into a wall.
He bounced off the wall onto Batman's fist. The Joker pulled
out a switchblade, only to have Batman twist his knife-hand
around and push his dumfounded face into the wall. Batman spun
the Joker around and brought his left knee up between the Joker's
legs. As the Joker keeled over, Batman brought his right
knee up into the Joker's face. Blissfully unconscious, the
Joker fell to the floor.
CROW: Ladies and gentlemen, an action sequence with all the
excitement and drama of a physics paper!
Ignoring the sudden round of applause, the Batman strode
over to Bruce Wayne. He extended his gloved hand. "It's an
honor to meet you, Mister Wayne."
"Call me Bruce. Very impressive show out there, Batman.
I have to admit I had my reservations about you. Now I see the
legend of the Dark Knight Detective is in good hands."
TOM: Because of one fistfight? What the heck is going on?
"Thank you, sir. I'd stay, but I don't share the same rapport
with the Gotham police that you enjoyed."
TOM: Gotham City: The Wordiest Place on Earth!
As if on cue, Commissioner Gordon and his men busted into the
room.
MIKE: [directing] OK, cue the commissioner.
Gordon was livid. "You! Freeze or I'll shoot!"
The Batman ignored the command and fired his grappling gun
up to the busted skylight. Hooking the gun onto his belt, he rose
up to the ceiling and vanished into the night.
CROW: As the cops stood there like idiots.
MIKE: They teach 'em that at the Academy.
Bruce Wayne drove home in silence. He entered Wayne Manor
without a sound. He walked to the old grandfather clock and
descended the stairs behind it with quiet dignity and grace.
Seconds later, a sleek, black, armored racer barreled into the
Batcave, filling the cavern with the roar from it's massive jet
turbine. Batman leapt from it's aircraft-like cockpit.
"Beautiful show, Alfred! If I didn't know better, I would
have believed you were me."
The butler smiled as he removed Bruce's face from his head.
"Thank you, sir. I did my best."
TOM: [to Mike] TOLD YOU!
Batman removed his cowl to reveal the visage of Bruce Wayne.
CROW: This fanfic has more five dollar words than some dictionaries...
TOM: Can we afford to read this?
"You best was more than sufficient. Now, if the press does what
I expect them to, Batman and Bruce Wayne will be undoubtedly
separate people again by morning. Everything's back to normal."
TOM: As if this was the first time Batman and "Bruce Wayne" had been
seen together. They do this all the time!
"Normal, sir?"
"You know what I mean."
"Aren't you forgetting something, sir?"
Bruce turned to look quizzically at his old friend. "What are you
driving at, Alfred?"
"Commissioner Gordon, sir?"
"Oh that. Actually, I
MIKE: Was planning to let the old bird stew in his own juices for a
while...
wasn't planning on telling him for a
few weeks, just to make it more convincing for the media."
"Surely the good Commissioner could pursue you halfheartedly
for a few weeks."
Bruce paused, as if weighing alternatives. "Maybe. I'll be back
later."
As the Batmobile thundered out of the cave, Alfred Pennyworth
thought about his employer and friend. When Batman's identity was
exposed, he thought master Bruce was ready to die. Now that the Caped
Crusader was once again free to pursue his holy war, it relieved
Alfred to see Bruce back to his old self, the Batman.
TOM: It's so nice when the people we care about are psychotic, multiple-
personality, violent maniacs.
Jim Gordon walked into his office with a thoroughly disgusted
look on his face. Keeping the overhead light off,
MIKE: For dramatic tension,
he marched over
to his desk and switched on his desk lamp. The first thing he saw
was a golden bat symbol on an ebony chest.
CROW: So he pulled out his gun and fired.
"Aaaaaggghhh!" In the blink of an eye, the aging cop had his
gun out and trained on Batman. "Don't move mister! You're under
arrest!"
Batman spoke in a reassuring tone while he slowly raised his
hands to his head. "Calm down, Jim. It's me." He removed his
cowl. "It's Bruce."
CROW: [Aussie accent] By the way, d'ya mind if we call you Bruce, just
to keep it straight?
Gordon slumped into his chair. "Bruce! For God's sake, don't
do that to me again!"
Bruce leaned against the desk, grinning slightly. "Sorry,
old friend. Nice to see you haven't slowed down."
TOM: Ha ha! Dance, old man!
"I'll slow you down!"
ALL: Huh?!?
Gordon puffed, still breathless from
the shock. "What's the meaning of all this? I can understand the
charade for the media, but why didn't you tell me?"
TOM: I did it for kicks.
"That's simple, Jim. I needed you at your best. The biggest
incentive I could think of was to make you think you had an outlaw
on your hands. I wasn't the only one that had to be convincing for
the media, you know."
Gordon, now over the initial shock, lounged in his chair.
"You think it worked?"
CROW: Doesn't it always?
"It will, Jim, if you keep your boys after me for a few weeks.
By then, the newshounds will be on to something more pressing, like a
spat between England's royal couple. Just make it convincing and
don't catch me." Bruce put the mask back on and headed for the window.
MIKE: Ever since he was a little kid, Batman's had a phobia about doors.
CROW: I heard he was attacked my Jim Morrison.
TOM: Ow! That was really bad, Crow.
Gordon stood up. "Bruce! Batman. It's good to have you back."
Thanks, Jim, Batman thought as swung out into Gotham's night sky.
As he heard the sounds of a crime in progress down below, he could only
think one thought.
CROW: I have to go to the bathroom.
MIKE: I'd really like a cheese sandwich.
TOM: Did I leave the oven on?
It's great to be back.
TOM: Finally! We're outta here!
[Mike & bots exit.]
______________________________________________________________________
Jeff Kirvin | Proud member of Team OS/2! | lun...@us.net
"This is the case where the loonies are running the asylum."
- J. Michael Straczynski