"I need you at the docks Thursday…" Carmine Falcone slid a glass of whiskey over to Flass, the dead beat detective.
"Problems?" He asked, casually taking a sip. Falcone shrugged.
"I don't want any trouble..."
"You call this whiskey? I could do better at 7 eleven!"
"Quit yer whining!" Falcone snapped. Flass put on a pout as he drank the rest down.
"Are you sure that's all?" Flass asked after an extremely loud burp. Falcone lowered his head.
"Yeah, of course I'm sure! Just with the last shipment…"
"Surrre…" Flass kind of rolled his eyes. The mob boss sneered.
"Whatta ya mean 'sure'?
"Heard around that you miffed off the Scarecrow a couple a days ago."
"The what? Who the heck?"
"That's what we call 'im, that Jonathan Crane guy, heard you really cheesed him off…"
"But why the heck is he called a freakin' 'scarecrow'? Flass shrugged. Actually, as Falcone started to think about it, the guy was kind of a nut.
"Not my place to say…" Flass shrugged again, trying to be mysterious.
"Is that so." Falcone nodded with a hint of irritation.
"Yeah, another word I heard on the street is you got a beef with somebody in the DA's office."
"Geez, ya think anybody could mind their own bees wax once in a while in this town."
"...And that there's a fat prize waiting for anybody willing to do anything about it."
"So, what's your point, Mr. Flass?" Flass bobbed his head, blinking his eye lids. Flass sighed.
"Have you seen the girl?"
"Yeah, and she's a pain in the a*s!"
'I'll say...' Bruce muttered, listening to their conversation on the outside through one of his nifty gadgetry.
"It's a cute little assistant D A." Flass prodded.
"Not that cute." Falcone stated flatly. Flass paused to think about it, then nodded considerably. It was Bruce's time to sigh.
'Why they didn't give me Jessica Alba or Christina instead I'll never know…'
"Yeah…" Flass concluded, "But still, don't you think that's a little too much heat to bring down, maybe?" Falcone stirred his drink, "Even for this town?" He took his time before answering.
"Never underestimate Gotham City." The man stated matter-of-factly. He glanced up.
'Pretty soon ya gonna be sayin' that for me, Falco'…' Bruce rasped under his breath.
"People get mugged coming home from work every day of the week, Flass…"
"Yeah, even in an office… Hey, almost like what happened to yo…" Falcone picked up an ash tray and chucked it at his face.
"OOW! Holy… mother…AH! IT BURNS!"
'MMkkk!' Bruce held back a snort.
"You shut yer mouth wise guy! Or I'll rip ya throat out next time!"
"Jeez… That hurt!"
"It better have…"
"Jamn it!"
'These guys are gold. Man, I'm going to have fun with these guys…'
Falcone straightened himself up, Flass beginning to recover. The chair squeaked as he leaned forward.
"About the chick…it's like I say. Sometimes..." Bruce listened in closely, his face basically pressed all up against the window.
"…Things just go bad. Do get my drift?"
"Yeah…" Flass shook his head, trying to look like a bad a*s.
'Me too…' Bruce pronounced darkly. "Okay, enough of this, it's game on now!
"Who's that at the window?" Flass craned his neck.
"Oh crap…!"Bruce instantly dove into the trash.
"What? Who is it? Is it Crane?" Falcony almost turned completely in his seat. Flass chuckled.
"See, I knew you were worried 'bout him."
"You a*shole!" Falcone growled.
"That a*shole…!" Bruce muttered, as he was now covered head to toe with smelly and rotting garbage. Falcone was left beating the detective mercile, his body guards trying to pull them apart. Bruce Wayne slowly made his way to his car. After a long shower, his next move would be bringing injustice… to its knees!
[Back at the cave…]
Hiyyyyyaaaaaah!
SMASH!
Alfred Pennyworth had just taken a sledge hammer to one of Bruce's trial cowls, as pieces flew everywhere. He glanced back at the billionaire who was leaning back watching.
"You know, Master Bruce, you don't need to call out like that."
"Oh… yes I do, Alfred." Alfred rolled his eyes. They both stood to look at the damage.
"Seems like a problem with the graphite, sir." The butler observed. Bruce nodded his head, lifting his eyebrows.
"Yeah, ya think?"
"Let's not get cheeky, sir." He sighed. The billionaire screwed up his face.
"'Cheeky'", Alfred…?
"The next shipment will be up to specifications..." He checked off on a list. Bruce shrugged his shoulders, sighing himself.
"At least they gave us a discount…"
"'Discount', sir?" Alfred asked inquisitively. Bruce whipped his head to his butler, eyes going big.
"Heck no, you did NOT just tell my we didn't get a freakin' discount. I spent a couple thousand grand's on this sh*t! With coupons!"
"My mistake, sir… I believe we do, the receipt is actually right here…" Bruce's eye's narrowed.
"You were gonna roll with that one, weren't you?"
"Just keeping you on your toes, sir." He said wistfully.
"Enjoyed that, didn't you?"
"Just a little jest..."
"Almost gave me a heart attack!"
"You're rich, you can handle it." Bruce sighed heavily, crossing his arms while rubbing his face.
"In the meantime, sir…" Alfred picking up one of the shards, "May I suggest you try to avoid landing on your head? Hmm?" He grinned. Bruce straightened up.
"Quite right, dear chap, I do quite agree with you." Alfred frowned.
"I don't even sound like that…"
"Quite right, ol' boy, now, I do believe some tea is in order right now…"
"Of all the…That's not even close to how I sound!"
"QUICK! STEP LIVELY NOW! GET YOUR FANCY A*S UP THOSE STAIRS OL' BLOKE! WE NEED REFRESHMENTS! REFRESHMENTS! HURRY, MAN!"
"I have it sitting right here, sir…Nice and hot…" Alfred said with a slight bow of presentation to the stray seated next to him. Bruce bumped the stray with his elbow, the whole thing clattering to the damp floor. Alfred froze, then straightened up, looking into the dark eyes of his ward.
"Get up those stairs, old man." He growled.
It was the night of preparation. Bruce went to work on Fox's gadgets, getting all the "bugs" out so that there would be no mistakes. He clipped the strings on the belt to the Nomex suit for "splelunking" and smoothed it out. Yeah… it was going to be good. He tested out the memory cloth, long stringy fingers which he whipped about but then activating the electric glove making them long and ridged; turning it off making them limp again. Like I said, it was going to be good…
Bruce was at the grinder shaping a metal object, small but sharp. After a few moments he held it high to examine it. Alfred walked up in front of him.
"I call this baby, 'the Batarang!'"
"The… 'batarang', sir?" Alfred sounded quizzical.
"What, don't like it?"
"Rather corny name if you ask me; doesn't really strike the 'terror' that I was imagining."
"Well, I didn't ask you, did I Alfie..." Bruce responded testily.
"Well… you kinda did…"
"…Noo... I said 'what, you don't like it?' It's a 'yes' or 'no' question, answer it." Alfred had to sigh again over this troubled teenager with a teen-aged attitude.
"It'll have to grow on me I suppose, master Bruce."
"Great, good enough…" Bruce went back to studying his epic masterpiece.
"Isn't it beautiful, Alfred?"
"Why bats, Master Wayne?" The butler asked abruptly, interrupting his master's reverie.
"Bats frighten me…" Bruce simply stated; a moment of serious pause before he then looked up at the gray haired man, the man staring back at him. "It's time my enemies shared my dread..." Bruce hurled the batarang at the wall… the wall snapping it in two. The cave went dead quiet...
Alfred cleared his throat, dusting off his trousers.
"I think it's time I start tending to that tea now…" He "accidentally" knocked the full tray of tea to the floor, picking it up quickly and making for the stairs. A loud eruption could be heard from behind him.
"OMG! YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! HAHA…! I SPENT THREE FREAKIN' HOURS ON THIS! THREE FREAKIN' HOURS! HEH HEH, ON ONE! JUST ONE! 'UNO'! ONE! ALL I GOT IS ONE-HUNDRED TO GO, THAT'S ALL! THIS IS BULLSH# !" Alfred shut the gate with a clang as he ascended in the elevator to the manor.
Next chapter... The one our young billionaire has been waiting for for so long... Stay tuned! :)