At the Batcave…

"You - have - Batmail."

Hearing the monotone voice, Robin the Boy Wonder races to the Bat Computer. Hastily he reads the missive, headed in bold capitals: URGENT. There is only one reason a message like this would be sent. Somewhere in Gotham, a perfidious plan is in progress.

"Jeepers, Batman. It's from the Commissioner!"

"What does it say?"

"Sometimes I feel like a secretary, not a sidekick," Robin says to himself. Then, to Batman, "He's forwarded an anonymous tip. It says, 'Riddle me this: Where is the hottest spot in Gotham?"

"It sounds like the Riddler's up to his old tricks again."

"He won't get far now that he's clued us in. The hottest spot in Gotham…? It must be the Gotham Steel Mill!"

"Good guess, Robin, but I wouldn't be so sure. The Riddler is never so straightforward. After all he is a crook."

"So we shouldn't take his clues literally?"

"Exactly," Batman affirms, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "The hottest spot in town is how people used to refer to the best disco or nightclub. And among criminals like the Riddler, that would mean the Iceberg Lounge."

"Holy irony, Batman. But surely people don't talk like that anymore?"

"When you lead a life of crime, Robin, you're always out of touch."