40 YEARS LATER
"I don't understand it Bruce!"
"First of all DON'T call me Bruce. Second, neither do I why do you think I sent you
here?"
Terry steps out of the batmobile and into an old parking garage.
"Woe. Looks old."
"By my records 59 years old. That's not the point."
"Hey I call'm as I see'm."
"Look Terry, you're here to find someone not jabber forever!"
"Who'm I findin' anyway?"
"His name's..."
"Rupe't Tho'ne junio' at your service."
A tall man in a light blue designer suit and a grey overcoat steps from behind a
pillar.
He has a small black mustache and a thin tan face.
In his hand is a leather attaché` case and a pair of black sunglasses.
He extends a gloved hand.
"So'y 'bout the building, but I figured this should end where it sta'ted."
"End?" Terry asks without moving his hand to shake.
"Yes. My fathe' Rupe't Tho'ne the first sta'ted it all heea 43 yea's ago."
"Rupert Thorne? Wasn't he one of the last mobsters?"
"Mob lo'ds, boy, and not exactly."
The man smiles.
"I'm one too."
"Impossible! The mob's dead 'n gone."
"I'd believe him Terry," Bruce's voice cut's in.
"DEAD? You think you could kill off somthin' as pwe'ful as the mob!?!"
"Umm...Now I'm leaning t'wards no."
"HAHAHAHA!"
The man bends down slapping his knees.
"You'd be right."
He straightens up and opens it attaché` case.
"Heea, kid look at these."
"KID! Hey, now I resent that!"
"Fine...Juvenile, twe'p, squi't, d..."
"ENOUGH!"
"Heea."
The man hands Terry a stack of documents and photos.
Terry pushes a button on his belt and a vid-link comes on.
Bruce leans in to the computer as an image of the documents comes in.
Terry slowly shuffles through them letting the vid-link scan and photograph each
page and then gasps as his eye catches something on one page.
"Wha... These give you the rights to every law force in Gotham!"
"And pa't of the US FBI and CIA."
"They're bogus. They've gotta..."
Bruce's voice cuts in "They're all real."
Rupert grins as Terry's eyes bulge.
"Int'estin' in't it?"
"Woooooooe," Terry whistles, "sue`."
"TERRY!"
"I...I mean...You'll never get away with this!"
"Oh really? At this moment Ba'bra Go'don's being relieved of he' job as a'e most of
the leading officials.
Soon my name'll be bigge' then...I dunno...Bruce Wayne!"
"Don't count on it," Bruce's voice comes out over Terry's intercom."
Rupert laughs and then turns.
"Keep the papers Bats. They're only photocopies!"
Rupert turns and begins to leave.
"I'll call you in 3 days. That's when these papers take effect.
I hope you'll like our new heads of staff!"
"Yeah...? WELL..."
Rupert is gone.
"...Me too."
"I don't understand it Bruce!"
"First of all DON'T call me Bruce. Second, neither do I why do you think I sent you
here?"
Terry steps out of the batmobile and into an old parking garage.
"Woe. Looks old."
"By my records 59 years old. That's not the point."
"Hey I call'm as I see'm."
"Look Terry, you're here to find someone not jabber forever!"
"Who'm I findin' anyway?"
"His name's..."
"Rupe't Tho'ne junio' at your service."
A tall man in a light blue designer suit and a grey overcoat steps from behind a
pillar.
He has a small black mustache and a thin tan face.
In his hand is a leather attaché` case and a pair of black sunglasses.
He extends a gloved hand.
"So'y 'bout the building, but I figured this should end where it sta'ted."
"End?" Terry asks without moving his hand to shake.
"Yes. My fathe' Rupe't Tho'ne the first sta'ted it all heea 43 yea's ago."
"Rupert Thorne? Wasn't he one of the last mobsters?"
"Mob lo'ds, boy, and not exactly."
The man smiles.
"I'm one too."
"Impossible! The mob's dead 'n gone."
"I'd believe him Terry," Bruce's voice cut's in.
"DEAD? You think you could kill off somthin' as pwe'ful as the mob!?!"
"Umm...Now I'm leaning t'wards no."
"HAHAHAHA!"
The man bends down slapping his knees.
"You'd be right."
He straightens up and opens it attaché` case.
"Heea, kid look at these."
"KID! Hey, now I resent that!"
"Fine...Juvenile, twe'p, squi't, d..."
"ENOUGH!"
"Heea."
The man hands Terry a stack of documents and photos.
Terry pushes a button on his belt and a vid-link comes on.
Bruce leans in to the computer as an image of the documents comes in.
Terry slowly shuffles through them letting the vid-link scan and photograph each
page and then gasps as his eye catches something on one page.
"Wha... These give you the rights to every law force in Gotham!"
"And pa't of the US FBI and CIA."
"They're bogus. They've gotta..."
Bruce's voice cuts in "They're all real."
Rupert grins as Terry's eyes bulge.
"Int'estin' in't it?"
"Woooooooe," Terry whistles, "sue`."
"TERRY!"
"I...I mean...You'll never get away with this!"
"Oh really? At this moment Ba'bra Go'don's being relieved of he' job as a'e most of
the leading officials.
Soon my name'll be bigge' then...I dunno...Bruce Wayne!"
"Don't count on it," Bruce's voice comes out over Terry's intercom."
Rupert laughs and then turns.
"Keep the papers Bats. They're only photocopies!"
Rupert turns and begins to leave.
"I'll call you in 3 days. That's when these papers take effect.
I hope you'll like our new heads of staff!"
"Yeah...? WELL..."
Rupert is gone.
"...Me too."