Chapter 4: Plans

On the day before Halloween, Jack Skellington walked around town, smiling at everything he saw. The hearse incident was not as bad as the goo. Though some things were destroyed, mainly things were knocked over or pushed aside by the fugitive hearse. Once again, the decorations were up, making the twisted town look more disturbing than usual. The Mayor's hearse, however, would probably be out of commission until Christmas, seeing there were more important things to worry about.

It was a terrible mess of a car now. The entire front half bent in when it crashed into Town Hall. All of it windows were either broken or cracked (well...more than usual, anyway), and a new engine was a definite must. What was worse was the Mayor's hearse was the only car in such an otherwise small town, and as such, it also held the town's alarm, the big wailing cat hood ornament on the front. To make things even worse, the Mayor's hearse was also equipped with a huge black and white striped megaphone, for the town's announcements.

Jack sighed. Until the hearse was fixed, they would have to rely on their bell system---a literal bell, about as big as an old-fashioned school bell, which hung in the old bell tower, where naturally the town's hunchback lurked. Even then, not everyone would be able to hear it. Messengers, too, were going to be needed until the hearse was fixed.

He shook his head. Though Lock, Shock, and Barrel's joyriding was just meant for fun, they had also demolished the town's most efficient way of communication. Jack thought for a moment. Or was it just a meant-to-be-innocent-joyride? He shook his head. As wicked and clever as those three could be, he did not think they meant to put the town in such a state.

Almost immediately, Jack turned. The vampires were practicing their routine for Halloween night. He smiled as he watched them. Using a dummy for reference, they practiced the best blood-sucking routines they could imagine. Jack walked around town. Witches brewed special potions that created strangely shaped smokes and odd hissing sounds. The werewolves were on a street corner, howling at streetlights, as the moon had not yet risen. Ghouls and goblins were practicing tricks and disappearing acts. Jack's smile grew more and more as he watched the citizens of Halloween Town prepare for tomorrow night.

His thoughts somehow went back to Lock, Shock, and Barrel. There was a pang of guilt for not letting them go out on Halloween, but he pushed it away. Those three were out of control, and they would continue to be unless they were disciplined. He had warned them once, and they refused to heed that warning. If he let them go out on Halloween, it would only mean that the threesome would take it as, "I didn't really mean it, go ahead, pull another stunt like that." Jack sighed. He knew only too well how the little devils thought.

As Halloween was just around the corner, Bruce Wayne, otherwise known as Batman, was getting more wary. The Scarecrow had been out of Arkham for little more than two months. With the one night of fear coming up tomorrow, Bruce was sure he was up to something. Just what, he needed to figure out.

He walked into the living room, where Tim Drake, the current Robin, was battling a monster on some sort of video game. Bruce grabbed the clicker and changed the channel, thus changing from the video game to the news.

"Aww, Bruce," Tim whined. "Two more minutes and I would've beaten him!"

"You can play video games anytime," said Bruce. "The Scarecrow is loose and still at large. I want to see if tonight's news leaves any clues about finding him."

"Sure, Mr. Obsessive," Tim muttered, putting the game controller down.

Bruce sat down in his big red armchair, watching with interest as the current report came up. Summer Gleeson's face appeared on screen as usual, and she was interviewing a tall man with black hair and a thin mustache. He had a golden tan and small black eyes.

"---here with Mr. C. Gregory Kentworth, owner of the Phantasmical Toy company, creator of the new Rejectz toys. Mr. Kentworth, when you put these toys on the market, did you think they would sell out so well?"

"Actually, Miss Gleeson," Mr. Kentworth said, "I originally thought the idea absurd. But then one of my employees convinced me to test it out for about a week. The first few sold out quickly, and I arranged for more to be made."

"But why toys that like...well...rejects?" Summer asked. She held a cute little blonde doll wearing a blue dress and a blue apron. She seemed perfect, except for her head was purposely put on backwards with no way to turn it around. "Like little---'Alleys' here, is that that right?"

"It's pronounced, 'Alice'," said Mr. Kentworth. "Awkward spellings fit the theme, because most people reject giving a common name a funny spelling. Alice becomes 'A-l-y-s-e,' and so forth. To answer the original question, the idea came across when one of my employees looked inside one of the bins that house rejected toys, or toys with defects. He thought the idea was brilliant, and brought it up to me."

"I see," said Summer. "So these toys are purposely given defects, then sent for production?"

"Yes," said Mr. Kentworth. He looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Any plans for continuing the series?"

"We were planning on doing them at least until Halloween, and then we'll see if go from there." He quickly added, "Because ironically, they came out just in time for it."

Summer nodded.

"Are there any special Rejectz?"

"We have one or two that are limited edition. Those will be kept secret, but no doubt a quick look on the Internet will reveal them."

"I see. Well, there you have it," said Summer. "Rejectz are in, and selling fast. Thanks for your time, Mr. Kentworth."

"No problem," he replied.'

The TV blacked out as Bruce clicked the remote.

"I don't believe him."

"What do you mean?" asked Tim.

"Just the way he looked. As though he were uncomfortable being there. And he carefully worded a few things---as though someone he didn't want listening might hear them."

"Do you think it's Scarecrow?" asked Robin.

"It could be," said Bruce. "It's not like him to take over a toy company, but right now, options are options. If I knew any better, I'd say this would probably fit the Joker's persona a bit better. But why twisted toys?"

"Maybe it's a hint of what he wants to do to you," said Robin.

"Perhaps," said Bruce. "It would be just like him to try to turn me into one of the Rejectz. I think it's time we paid one of Gotham's toyshops a visit. Maybe one of those dolls has a lead."

"Gotcha," said Tim, getting up.

Alfred Pennyworth came in, holding a tray of milk and cookies.

"The snack you requested, Master Tim."

"No time," said Bruce, running out.

Tim grabbed two of the cookies on the way.

"Thanks, Alf," he said, dashing after Bruce.

Alfred sighed and began to take the tray back to the kitchen.

"Perhaps later, then."

"...So then when Jack comes for us, we'll pelt him with our new goo, push him into the tree and skedaddle!" Lock said with a grin, showing his siblings the sketches he drew as far as an escape plan.

Shock grabbed the plans, rolled them up, and smacked Lock upside the head with them.

"No you idiot!" she exclaimed. "That'll land us in even more trouble! We have to do it without Jack seeing us!"

"The you think of something!" Lock said, taking the plans back, wadding them up in a ball, and throwing them at Shock.

Shock held up an arm to deflect it. The paper ball fell on Barrel's head. He picked up the paper wad and carelessly tossed it over his shoulder into the ever-increasing pile of crumpled paper balls, airplanes, and spit wads.

"Maybe I will!" Shock exclaimed, smacking Lock for good measure.

"It was your idea to drive the hearse!" Lock whined.

"You went along with it!"

Shock tackled Lock and began to punch the little devil's face. Lock reached up and grabbed the little witch's frizzled hair and yanked.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Shock screamed!

"Get offa me!" Lock demanded.

"You started it!"

The fight progressed from punches and hair pulling to punches, hair pulling, kicking, biting, smacking, blunt objects, and, in Lock's case, tail pulling. ("Ouch! No fair, Shock! You don't have a tail to pull")

While they were fighting, Barrel calmly sat down and began to draw nonsense with the oily crayons Lock and Shock had been using for the last fifty schemes that would never work. He drew Lock and Shock standing next to each other, with X's for eyes and mouths that looked like stitches. He then began to doodle Jack with a question mark over his head. By now, Lock had Shock pinned face-first to the floor with his foot, and was pulling her arms back.

"Ouch! Ow! Okay, okay, you win, you win!" she cried.

Lock grinned triumphantly and let go. Shock punched him for good measure, the crossed her arms. She peeked over at Barrel's drawing.

"Idiot," she muttered---then looked again. "Wait a minute..."

She snatched the drawing. Barrel, who was coloring it, made a long red mark going down the bottom of the page, and then onto the floor.

"Hey!" he whined. "That's mine!"

"Shut up," said Shock. She looked at it---then smiled. "Barrel, you're a genius!"

"...I am?" Barrel grinned.

"No."

She pointed out what she saw.

"Lock and I look like dummies. Dummies might just work. Very early tomorrow, we slip them into Town Hall, make them look like they're working, and in the meantime, we slip off. The Mayor will probably be too stupid to notice. We can go, cause trouble, and be back long before midnight and fake like we were working the whole time!"

Lock grinned. He patted Barrel on the back. The threesome the shared a high-five. They then quickly ran to get some spare costumes and some straw...

"Kentworth was right! These things are selling like crazy!" Tim said as he and Bruce entered the Batcave. "Every toyshop in town---empty! We're very lucky Bergduffs had a few extra to spare."

"I know," said Bruce. He opened the bag and pulled out one of the figures---Drakulah---and examined it. Inside the box, he could tell that the figure's hands had no thumbs, and that his sleeves had been sewn on at awkward angles. Bruce examined the box. There were holes in the side, cut in a twisted design. They were big enough to be noticed, small enough so little fingers could not slip through and touch the merchandise. The plastic lid slipped off easily. The doll itself, however was held in place by the classic twist ties, and thread here and there. Even so, the ties came off easily---almost too easily.

Tim watched as Bruce did the examination. The figure bent moved easily, like a puppet in stop-motion animation. Bruce turned it around. He found a little switch and turned it on. The doll stretched out its hands and began to walk. Bruce set in on the table and it walked slowly, as though pursuing an innocent victim. He turned the switch off.

"Hmm..." he mused. He set it on a table and ran a scan. It showed a normal layout for such a toy---a small metal skeleton underneath, laced with more wires needed to make the doll move, and two AA batteries to help it run. Judging by the looks and make of the frame and wire, it ran on the lowest energy possible to allow the batteries to last as long as possible.

"It doesn't make sense," he said. "This looks as normal as anything."

"Maybe there isn't anything wrong with the Rejectz," said Tim.

"Maybe nothing we can pick out so far."

Maybe," said Bruce. He thought for a minute. "Suit up. We're paying Mr. C. Gregory Kentworth a little visit."

C. Gregory Kentworth was in his own living room at eleven o'clock that evening, propped up in his favorite armchair, wearing the finest silk pajamas and his most expensive and comfortable robe. His feet, clad in soft leather slippers, were propped on the footrest. A small red fez donned his had as he lied back to finish the newspaper after a long day at the office.

There was a rapping at the window. Kentworth perked up.

'Oh, no,' he thought. 'Not him. Not now.'

"Gregory..." came a soft, haunting voice.

Kentworth felt chills run down his spine. Behind him, he heard the window open. There was the cock of a gun.

"You know the routine. Don't turn around or else," came the soft, hissing voice.

Kentworth gulped and held still. He tried to show he was not afraid.

"What do you want?" he asked, in a normal tone.

"I want you to put extra security around the factory. I am sure the Batman will be trying to stop me. And you know what will happen if this plan fails."

Kentworth did not reply.

"...Well..?"

"All right," Kentworth replied. "I'll see what I can do."

"Good," the voice replied.

He fired. The gun made little sound, but a dart flew over and hit the wall. Kentworth jumped in surprise.

"What was that for?"

"Just a little something to be sure you don't go back on our deal."

Kentworth looked over at the dart. It seemed like a normal dart, but something told him to watch out. He waited. No explosions, no nothing. He went over and pulled it out. Nothing was wrong with it. He slipped it in his pocket and turned around and looked at the window. Something moved from it to a darkened corner.

Kentworth pulled a gun off the mantel of the fireplace and walked towards him. He was shaky, but he looked relieved and put the gun away. He then went to pick up the paper again.

"It was just my imagination. Just thank goodness he's gone," he said quietly, shuddering.

"Thank goodness who's gone?" came a voice in the shadows.

Kentworth froze and turned around. This voice was different, darker, harsher. In the shadows he saw two white eyes. The figure came closer, stepping into the light. It was none other than the infamous Batman. Kentworth's eyes went wide.

"Who was that?" Batman demanded.

"Who was who?" Kentworth asked, growing pale.

Batman grabbed his collar.

"Someone was here. I want answers. Talk!"

"I-I don't know, honest!" Kentworth cried. "He-he knows things! I h-had no choice! He's blackmailing me!"

"About what? What are you involved in?"

"I-I d-don't know his plan! H-he made me authorize the R-Rejectz; I d-don't know w-what he n-needs them for, that's all I know, I swear!"

Batman put him down.

"If you're holding back anything from me, you're going to be sorry."

He then went to the window and jumped out. Kentworth gulped.

"I don't know anything else," he said quietly. He felt his pockets. The dart was gone. He quickly went over to the phone. "But for now, more security is definitely needed."

"Anything?" Robin asked, waiting in the Batmobile.

"Not much," said Batman. "We were right, though. The Rejectz are definitely a part of the scheme, whoever's behind it."

"He didn't know," said Batman. "Someone's blackmailing him in secret, and whoever's behind it is doing a pretty good job. We have to go back to the lab and see what else we can find about these Rejectz."

(A/N: I know I said my goal was five reviews, but the three I recieved were enough to convince me that there are interested readers.

Thanataphobia: I nearly jumped for joy when I saw your review. You shall see what happens with Jack and Jonathan. It seemed only fitting to put two men fixated with fear in the same story. I adore the Rejectz as well. They are one of my better creations.

ZeKe: I plan to "keep it going."

Serb: Nightmare Before Christmas was my first (and still biggest) obsession. I am most pleased that you are enjoying the mix with Gotham City, andI hope you have further enjoyed this chapter.)