I do not own Batman or any other characters in this story – although I am interested in buying if the price ever gets low enough. Most characters were created by Bill Finger.

"The Abandoned Crossword Puzzle Building On The Outskirts Of Town! Once A Proud Purveyor Of Problematic Puzzlement, It Now Sits Dark And Forgotten – A Setting Ripe For Villainy! For Inside The Building, We Find The Riddler And His Scurrilous River Rat Gang, Receiving A Visit From A Familiar Figure!"

Garbed in her white toga mini-skirt, the Siren sat studying a crossword puzzle magazine. "A six-letter word for a female advisor," she read aloud.

"'Egeria'," replied the Riddler as he scoured over some paperwork. "You and I are going to be rich beyond our wildest dreams."

"You're certain your experience with the Penguin's personalized relic will enable you to handle a top-of-the-line model? Singlehandedly?" She glanced back at the magazine. "Nine-letter word for a painkiller."

"'Analgesic'. Singlehandedly - no doubt whatsoever. I can pilot any type of submersible sea-craft."

"Six-letter word meaning 'to ascribe'. And the missiles? "

"'Impute'. Missiles? You should have seen me. I was shooting off Polaris missiles like they were 3-cent bottle rockets!" he said, jabbing his fingers at the ceiling in imitation of missiles launching.

Dropping the crossword puzzle, the Siren clasped her hands. "It's so fortuitous that we've reteamed! Ever since I was a little girl, I've dreamed of owning my own fleet of submarines. Now, they're almost within my grasp! And to think - nuclear submarines! That's the best kind, isn't it?"

"Why, I wouldn't dream of owning any other kind!"

One of the River Rats stood up drunkenly and swaggered over to the Siren. "You look real nice when you get all excited, baby," said Whitey. "And I got a special welcome that'll get ya even more excited."

"My, my, aren't you the brazen one," said the Siren, appraising the henchman.

"Dat's right. I am when I sees a woman I likes."

"Come back here, you bold male, you," she said, standing and beckoning. "I have a secret I want to tell you."

She led the leering thug from the room. Seconds later, the Riddler heard the Siren's piercing scream reverberate through walls that were thankfully thick enough to spare him from any ill affects. The Siren and Whitey emerged shortly, the henchman shuffling as if he were in a trance.

"Now, why don't you do us a favor and go jump in the lake?" she said.

"Which lake, oh magnificent Siren?"

"Let's see, where's the dirtiest water source in Gotham?"

"Prob'ly off the west shore of Phony Island."

"That should do nicely. Just dogpaddle about for an hour or so."

"Yes, ma'am," said Whitey. He marched robot-like from the room.

"I hope you're done giving my minions swimming lessons, because we'll be needing all of them," said the Riddler. "Now, riddle me this: Where do you find roads without vehicles, forests without trees, and cities without houses?

"On a map?" asked the Siren

"Correct!" he said, whipping out a map of a military installation. "Why don't we look at this one? Observe...the first two guards you'll encounter will be here at the front gate. Once you get past them, you shouldn't see anyone for the next two hundred meters, allowing you to make your way here – and then here. Now, if my calculations are correct, there will be 37 sailors in all that you'll have to disable to give me clear access to the subs. Can your voice hit two octaves above high C 37 times with the same potency?"

"Not by itself, no. My voice is no longer quite capable of such operatic feats. But with my vocal enhancer implant, it'll be no trouble at all. Just make sure the sailors are all men."

"Men are all you'll find at the Gotham Naval Yards!" the Riddler whooped. "You're the perfect person to infiltrate this base; no man can resist your spell, least of all ones who've just returned from six months at sea!"

"And you're the perfect person to mastermind this plot, what with your extensive submarine experience. I'm afraid your assistants, on the other hand, do not inspire a great deal of confidence."

The Riddler held up a hand reassuringly. "Not to worry. They won't know where the submarines are being taken. The subs will just sit unmanned on the bottom of the ocean while we field offers from the highest bidders! The only two people in the world who'll know their whereabouts will be you...and me!" He began to giggle. "And if anyone else wants them, they'll have to pay, pay, pay!" The Riddler burst into a uncontrolled giggling fit, toppling over the desk lamp. He stopped abruptly and began writing furiously.

"What are you doing?" asked the Siren.

"Just taking care of a little business." He read out loud as he wrote. "'Riddle me this: What's loud and sticky and found with Chubby R. Buckle?'"

"And So It Is Several Days Later That We Find Police Commisioner Gordon's Morning Upset By Troubling News"

"Yes?" said Gordon as he picked up the insistently ringing phone. "What?! Gotham Naval Base? On red alert for the past three days? The Coast Guard has scrambled all available vessels?"

"Yes, sir," replied the switchboard operator. "All four of the submarines that were in port are missing and presumed stolen."

"All four of the submarines that were in port are missing and presumed stolen?"

The operator turned to her co-worker and whispered, "He's doing it again."

**********

At Stately Wayne Manor, Dick Grayson stood in the living room strumming a folk guitar. Bruce and Aunt Harriet sat on the couch in front of him, politely tapping their feet. They were being graced with a performance of Dick's unique interpretation of the Bob Dylan classic, "Like A Rolling Stone".

"Once upon a time!
You dressed so fine!
Threw the bums a dime!
In your prime!
Didn't yooou?"

He paused his shouting in mid-verse as Alfred strode between him and his audience. Leaning over to Bruce, the butler whispered, "The phone, sir."

"I'm sorry, Dick," said Bruce. "We'll have to listen to this song you learned at college another time. I need your help in the study."

Dick handed his folk guitar to Aunt Harriet, who appeared distrustful of the instrument. Dick trotted into the study just in time to hear Bruce say "Right away, Commisioner!"

As soon as the phone was back in it's cradle, the inevitable order was given. "To the Batpoles!"