"I'll admit I never quite got used to this!" Gordon admitted, gripping the sides of the Tumbler's passenger seat as it screamed down the highway towards the barrier tolls at the edge of the city.

"It took me some time too. Hold on," he told the commissioner, pressing down harder on the accelerator. The Tumbler sped up towards the approaching barriers. The guards on duty opened fire, but the bullets bounced harmlessly off its metallic exterior. The vehicle crashed through the center gate, taking out part of the adjoining booths. "How long till you can get units out to get the rest of the police?" he asked Gordon, swerving hard down a side street. He had led the policemen that had been imprisoned in the Batcave out the shaft he'd come in, and all of them were now waiting by the road for someone to get them, presumably with no of them the wiser as to the Batcave's location.

"I'll have to see how else isn't brainwashed; assuming I can find somebody quick, maybe about a half hour," Gordon estimated, checking his watch, "If the city's about to be torn apart, though, we may not have that much time..."

"Look," his colleague pointed, noticing a squad of clowns looting shops all up the next street. He gunned the Tumbler right at them, sending them cartwheeling away from it. Braking to a stop, he leaped out and lunged at the clowns, swinging hard blows and kicks at them. Two went down right away; the others drew num-chuks, staffs, and other martial arts weapons and rushed at him. He parried their blows at best he could and battled back against them. The brawl went on for a good five minutes, but it ended with all the clowns lying groaning on the ground. "Not bad," Gordon commended him, rushing over and examining the clowns with a frown, "You know, I don't know why they work for the Penguin when they'd make more sense as the Joker's men..."

"I agree, but who knows?" he shrugged, "Anyway," he turned towards the commissioner, "After you get reinforcements, first check out Axis Chemicals and see what you can find there. Then go to Dozier Films. They've been filming the imposter's fake adventures; we can get evidence against them..."

"I know who else we can get to testify: Linseed the mayor, if we can find him," Gordon realized, "Maybe Crichton the warden too..."

"Leave them to me," he said, starting to draw his grappling hook from his utility belt, "I'll find them after I free the other prisoners."

"Just promise me," Gordon held up his hand, concerned, "Whatever you do, do it by the book, OK? We have to..."

"I know, Jim; we have to make sure everyone knows our way works. I'll do the best I can," he promised, "I'll keep in touch."

He fired the grappling hook up at the nearest building and ascended skyward, pausing in mid flight to turn downward and press the button on the device to lock the Tumbler. His next stop was to find the would-be Batgirl's lair, and judging by what he'd seen on TV, he had a good idea where it was.


Fifteen minutes later, as more explosions could be heard ringing out throughout Gotham, he inched along the ledge of an apartment building, the known address of one Yvonne Neale, now wholly having adapted the name Barbara Gordon. And from inside, harsh cracking sounds could be heard, signaling his hunch had been right. Agonized screams rose up after each crack. "Stop it, you'll kill her!" came a desperate cry from another woman.

"She's getting what she deserves for causing trouble!" shouted an angry, familiar woman's voice.

"We'll all keep screaming for help, Barbara; you've abused all of us for too long...!" another woman shouted defiantly.

"Yeah, go ahead and scream, but who's going to believe you!? I'm the princess of Gotham, and you're all nobodies! Everyone'll believe me over you! And if you don't shut up, I'll...!"

There now came a knock at the apartment door, making her stop her tirade. "Miss Gordon, Gotham P.D.," came the voice of a policeman-one likely shot up with Anderson's drugs to be made loyal to the fake commissioner, he knew. "I have orders from your father to bring you to Police Headquarters for your own safety immediately," the cop continued.

"Oh, uh, right, uh, give me a moment, I'll uh, be right there," the fake commissioner's daughter called back, trying to sound innocent. "Not a word out of any of you, or else!" he heard her threaten her prisoners before rushing out into the apartment. She threw a switch to close her prison, then activated another to cause a wall panel to spin around, revealing the Batgirl suit. "Miss Gordon, please, we have to hurry, this is an emergency," the policeman outside knocked again.

"Right, right, just getting a few last minute things together, please give me a minute," she told him, stuffing the costume into her purse.

"I'm afraid we don't have a minute, Miss Gordon; I need you to come now," the officer insisted.

"OK, here I come, here I come," she zipped her purse up and rushed out the door, locking it behind her. Out on the ledge, he waited a minute to make sure she wasn't coming back, then jumped through the open window into the apartment. He felt around on the wall where he was hearing the moaning. The switch did not seem readily available, so he drew an explosive star from his utility belt. "Everyone in there, stand clear if you can," he called inside before tossing the star at the wall, blowing a large hole in it. Several women sat languishing in several cells on the other side, as well as a whole family in one. "Who are you?" he asked them, approaching.

"The landlord," mumbled the father, squeezing his family close, "I heard reports of people screaming in here about a year ago. I came up to confront Barbara Gordon on it..."

"Her name's Yvonne Neale; you don't have to be afraid of calling her by who she really is anymore," he advised the man, blasting the lock off his cell with another explosive star and swinging the door open for he and his family, "Go on."

"I confronted her, and she gassed me unconscious. When I woke up, I was locked in here, and she'd grabbed my family too," the landlord lamented, "The apartment next to hers was empty when she moved in; she must have taken it over and made it into a dungeon without anyone noticing. She warned us we'd all be dead if we tried to escape. And she seemed like such a nice girl when she moved in too..."

"Looks aren't everything. Stand back," he blasted the locks off the other cell doors. "Who else have we here...Nellie Majors the reporter," he recognized her, looking malnourished, "How long have you been here?"

"A year and a half, I guess," the reporter told him, fighting back tears, "I suspected something was wrong after that encounter with Mr. Freeze and the princess. Everything had started to seem scripted in Batman's crimes to me. So I followed the Batmobile after it left Police Headquarters after the case was seemingly solved. They must have suspected I was following them, because another car ran mine off the road from behind. I woke up in a dungeon in the Batcave, where he and Robin told me I was a disgrace to the press and humanity to try and doubt them, and that nothing would ruin what they were doing to 'help' the city. After about six months, they gassed me and the other women they'd been holding as well, and we woke up again here, in Batgirl's custody. She's psychotic, depraved; she starved and beat us at will..."

"I heard. Did you hear them say specifically they'd set up all their crimes?"

"Yes, I overheard them planning numerous capers both here and in the Batcave. They grabbed people off the street and brainwashed them with chemicals to think they were the villains, programmed their minds to follow whatever the script they'd drawn up said, and had it filmed to look like they were the heroes. They kept all the loot afterwards; it's probably stashed in the Batcave somewhere."

"I know, I found it," he told her; he and Gordon had uncovered the hiding place, ever so conveniently labeled BAT LOOT DEPOSITORY, before they'd left the cave. "Would you be willing to testify in court to this?"

"Absolutely," Majors nodded, "Seeing what they've done to people...wait, you are the real Batman, right?" she raised an eyebrow at him, "This wouldn't be another trick..."

"No, I'm really him," he assured her, "All of you are safe now," he told the other women, "And..."

The sound of another loud explosion outside snapped his head around. He ran back into the apartment and glanced out the window. "Here they come," he muttered grimly, seeing an impromptu parade passing by below. And he wouldn't mistake the participants for anyone else...

"What going on out...oh my..." Majors exclaimed, joining him at the window and looking down at the parade. The Joker's float was first-apparently his Gotham 200th anniversary float repainted purple and green, and with a spinning Joker head at the front, and a few other frills added here and there. Behind him came the Penguin's float-a float decked out with a major circus theme. The birdman himself sat on a throne atop the float, with several missile-clad penguins standing around the throne, and several circus thugs standing guard on it. A circus train with more circus thugs followed that, follow by Catwoman's float, which had a heavy Egyptian theme. She herself lounged with her black cat on a throne flanked by large cat statues. Next came Two Face's float, one that was half flat white and half spiky red and black. Two molls stood beside him, and numerous members of his gang rode on board. The Riddler's green float, covered with question marks and with a large rotating Box on top of the rear, rolled along next. Then came Poison Ivy's, flush with tropical flowers and vines, include a large orchid bed on top which she herself reclined on-overall stupid-looking, he acknowledged, but still impressively thought out nonetheless. The fake Bane stood at the front of the float, posing down to the crowds for some reason or another. Freeze's, designed to like like a giant iceberg, was last. Two huge polar bears were chained at the front and roared angrily, clearly not happy with their captivity. Amid the crowd of thugs on the float, he could make out an large ice cannon protruding from amid the fake snow. The "Freezemobile," with its large array of rockets and ice cannon of its own, brought up the rear. And he had a strong idea where they were all going, and what lay ahead for anyone in their path...

"Call the police," he turned to the landlord, "Ask specifically for Jim Gordon; if you can't get through to him, call 555-1677, that should get you to him directly. Have him send units over here to help everyone out," he starting climbing out the window, "I've got to see if I can stop this..."


"Ladies and gentlemen, your regularly scheduled Batman parade will not be seen at this time," the Joker declared into a microphone atop his float at the front of the parade, "Instead, step forward and enjoy the brand new Gotham Cavalcades Parade, as they were, brought to you by Smilex, the product that gives you a grin again and again," he dug out a bottle of Smilex, unscrewed the lid, and tossed it into the face of a policeman standing nearby. "And as you can see, he's happier already," he laughed, seeing the cop fall to the ground and start laughing out of control. "And because we're such nice people, we're going to give all of you a special treat: Joker brand pineapple bombs, guaranteed to be a blast for you. Bob, if you please," he extended a hand to his main henchman, who gleefully handed over a large bag. The Joker pulled out a set of large metallic pineapples. "Pass them around, boys," he handed it to the rest of his top goons on the float, who activated them and tossed them towards the crowd, who had come expecting a Batman parade. They all screamed and tried to run, but many of them were caught in the subsequent explosions. "Now that's what I call going out with a bang, don't you?" the Joker laughed manically at the carnage. "I just have the best ideas, don't I, Oswald?" he turned back to ask the Penguin behind him, who was distributing several more pineapple bombs to his own gang.

"I'll admit it, Jack, sometimes you've got your moments," the Penguin called back, then rose up and flung one himself through the window of a laundromat, which exploded in a colossal fireball. "Here, take out that butcher shop," he pushed another live one into the mouth of the poodle lady's poodle next to him, then pointed at the shop in question a few doors down from the laundromat.

"Nikita, release," the poodle lady ordered her dog, which prompted it to leap off the float, rush over to the butcher shop, deposit the pineapple bomb in front of it, then bustle back to the Penguin's float. The butcher shop exploded the moment the it had returned to its mistress' arms. "That'll teach them to grind up animals for profit," the Penguin snickered,

"But what if they ask us to pay for the damage?" the poodle lady had to ask him.

"Well, we'd better make sure we have enough money then-and as luck would have it," her boss noticed they were passing a bank. He nodded to the organ grinder on his other side, who tossed two pineapple bombs at the bank's ATM machine. The resulting explosion blew the machine up and sent a wave of money flying back towards the float, which the organ grinder's monkey quickly tried to grab out of the air. "Ah, not enough. Brutto, Lolita, Zelda, Xavier?" he asked the strongman, snake lady, knife throwing dame, and sword swallower on the float with him. They leaped off and hurled a phalanx of pineapple bombs through the bank's front door, then ran back to the float. The doors blew off their hinges in the blast, after which numerous clowns rushed off the trailing circus train and swarmed into the bank to get more loot. It was at this point that the wail of sirens rose through the air. Three police cars skidded to a halt in front of the parade. "Freeze, stop your floats immediately!" shouted the leader of the half dozen or so cops that jumped out and trained their guns on the floats.

"Did I hear my name?" Freeze asked into his own microphone at the rear of the crowd, "Sorry, officers, but this party is for the cool people only, and you're not welcome."

He squeezed a trigger in his hand that repositioned his float's ice cannon, then fired it, freezing all the cops and their cruisers in blocks of ice. He then nodded at the Freezemobile, which fired several of its rockets at them, blowing them up and allowing the parade to continue onward unimpeded. "Great shot, Victor," the Joker gave him a thumbs-up from the front float, laughing as it ran over the wreckage, likely killing anyone who wasn't already dead. "How's everyone doing back there?" he called back to the other villains.

"Oops, looks like someone forgot to give me my own pineapple bombs," the Riddler glanced into his own sack in disappointment, "But no matter, because I still had a few riddle ducks left," he pulled out several green wind-up ducks, "Time for these birds to find a new habitat."

He wound them up and tossed them into the street. The ducks zipped around, then exploded underneath many of the cars lining the street, sending them flying onto the sidewalk and in some cases through the front of numerous buildings along the street. The bystanders screamed and ran, but those who ran backwards regretted it when the large Venus flytraps on Poison Ivy's float lunged forward, snatched them up, and ate them. "Poor stupid people," the villainess all but laughed atop the float, "Always making dumb decisions during a crisis. That's why plants will rule the world if I have my say...why are we stopping?" she leaned upwards, noticing the floats were sliding to a stop in front of the city's central park.

"Figured we could all use a selfie in front of the statues while they're still here," the Joker pointed at the Batman, Robin, and Batgirl statues looming over the park, "Lawrence, if you will," he handed the large, bald henchman on his float a camera. Lawrence obligingly stepped off the float, waited till everyone had leaned together and was smiling, then pushed the button. A rocket shot out of the camera and blew the heads off each of the statues, sending the debris falling down on the citizens in the park. The villains all laughed loudly at the destruction. "They'll never be the heads of the city anymore!" the Joker declared with an even louder laugh, "All right, onward to police headquarters...and since you've all been a great crowd so far," he turned to the people running down the street, trying to get away from the parade of death, "We have a few additional gifts for you, courtesy of your friends at Axis Chemicals."

He pressed another button, causing the Joker heads on the sides of the float to spray bystanders with plumes of acid. The parade lurched onward, not noticing the figure soaring through the air behind them. He watched the floats below him, his eyes locked in, trying to determine where best to come down. His gaze locked in on the Riddler's float. As the question-marked fiend was by himself on the float, he posed the least risk in a fight, he reasoned. He waited until he was right overhead, then released the charge in his cape and dropped right on top of the former Edward Nigma. "Hey, what...!?" the villain protested, before being hauled up and punched repeatedly. "At the risk of coming off like Napier, I'm raining on your parade!" he thundered, slugging Nigma off the float.

"It's him, the real him, shoot him!" the imposter Two Face roared, hefting a machine gun and firing at the float behind him. The Batman ducked the bullets and launched himself onto the rear of the next float. Two Face's goons rushed towards him, only to be met with hard haymakers and kicks. "Horace Dent, it's over," he started climbing up to the top of the float.

"It's Harvey Dent, thank you very much!" the fake Two Face snarled, "I should kill you for that alone!"

"You're Harvey's psycho brother Horace no matter what you think," he smacked the gun out of the real Harvey's brother's hands and hauled him up by the collar. "OK, stop this parade, all of you, or else!" he threatened the other villains.

"Let me think of an answer to that...ah, here it is..." he heard the Joker say, then saw the rocket launcher the villain was now holding on his float. Moments later, there came a blast, and a rocket soared right at him. He leaped in the air, activating his cape as a glider, and managed to avoid it-but saw too late out of the corner of his eye the fake Two Face heft his own rocket launcher and fire as well. And this missile nicked him in the side and sent him spiraling out of control towards several telephone lines, which burst open on impact, sending electricity jolting everywhere. "One Bat in the side pocket for an electrifying end!" the would-be Two Face exclaimed, dancing in delight, "And so, with that out of the way," he dropped back in his throne, "On to Police Headquarters for the grand finale!"


"Is the door barricaded as well as it can be, Captain Semple?" the fake Commissioner Gordon asked worriedly into his intercom inside Police Headquarters, jumping at the sound of explosions getting closer by the minute.

"As good as we can, Commissioner. No one's coming into the building if we can help it."

"Wonderful. Guard that door with your very lives, or Gotham City shall fall forever," the fake Gordon declared in a dead serious voice, then hung up. "Stand ready, gentlemen," he ordered the thirty or so policemen in his office with him, "You are the last line of defense against the forces of evil. Above all, let nothing happen to my darling daughter," he pointed to her over by the window. He walked over. "Is everything all right, my dear?" he asked, putting an arm around her.

"I think so, Daddy. I'm worried, though. Where are Batman and Robin? They'd usually stop something like this," she asked him with perhaps too much over the top fear in her voice.

"Now don't you worry about that, darling," her father failed to pick up on it, "Batman and Robin haven't let this city down once yet, and they're not going to start now when we need them the most. You're perfectly safe here with Chief O'Hara, myself, and the other top officers of the Gotham Police Department."

"Most surely you are, Miss Gordon," the would-be police chief nodded to her by his boss' desk. He now pressed the intercom button. "Bonnie, any word from Batman and Robin, any word at all?"

"No, Chief O'Hara, and if they did, I'd have to say...to say..." his secretary paused, then said nothing. "Bonnie, is everything all right out there?" the chief asked, frowning.

"Of course, chi-ha, Chief O'H-ha-ha...I've been feeling...ha-ha-ha...been feeling...ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" the secretary burst into hysterical laughter on the other end. "Saints preserve us," O'Hara's frown got deeper, "Sounds like she's been..."

"GAS!" screamed another policeman, pointing in horror at the air vents, out of which green gas was now streaming. "The fiends! They've tapped into the air ducts somehow! Break out of the gas masks, men!" the fake Gordon cried to the officers, who stumbled for his desk. "Barbara, quick, out the window, save yourself!" he threw open the window and pushed his daughter out, "Find Batman and Robin, quick!"

He raced for his desk, not noticing her nod and rush along the ledge outside behind him. "Give me one, give me one!" he tore a gas mask out of another cop's hands and slipped it on in a flash. The cop groped for it, but quickly fell to the floor and started laughing hard, his face twisting into a hideous grin. Numerous other cops who'd failed to get their own gas masks fell to the floor laughing maniacally as well. It was at this moment that a loud explosion rocked the building below. "They're coming in! Weapons at the ready, men!" the fake commissioner ordered his remaining men, who trained their guns on the office door with nervous expressions. Footsteps pounded closer and closer by the second. "OK Bane, this is it. Break the door down," Poison Ivy's voice commanded outside.

"BREEEEAAAAAKKKK!" the fake Bane roared. With a loud bang, the door exploded open, sending everyone inside diving for cover. With a loud roar, the organ grinder jumped into the doorway and opened fire on the policemen with his machine gun organ while his monkey clapped in delight on his shoulder. Numerous other goons from each gang joined him in blasting away, and soon the floor was littered with even more corpses. The last cop remaining besides the would-be commissioner and chief tried to rush for the window, only to have Catwoman leap into the doorway, crack her whip around his leg and pull him off his feet. He tried to get back up, but Bob rushed forward through the smoke, pistol-whipped him back down and shot him in the back of the head in a flash. "Anyone else?" the lead goon sneered, glancing around the office.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot!" the fake commissioner waved his arms frantically over his head, "What do you want!?"

"We've come to hail the king of Gotham, so: long live the king! Long live the king! Long live the king!" the Joker danced merrily into the office, throwing flower petals everywhere. The other villains followed suit, some looking more eager to do so than others.

"What is that supposed to mean!? I'm not a king!" the fake commissioner protested.

"Well you've sure been acting like it, buddy, living the high lifestyle since you took this job," the Penguin sneered at him, tossing a handful of petals in his face. "And confidentially," he leaned close to his ear, "You probably could have escaped out the window any time, so dumb move staying put here."

The would-be Gordon shuffled about uncomfortably. "So what if I've lived a good life!?" he shot back defiantly, "Crime fighters such as myself have earned the right to live good lives for our great services to society...!"

"Nonetheless, you have more control over Gotham right now than anyone else. So, if you'll just sign right here," the imposter Two Face shoved a form across the commissioner's desk, "This abdication notice will officially transfer control of the city to its new ruling junta, namely us, who will do so much better than you..."

Suddenly groans rang out from the hallway. "Nobody move!" demanded the figure in the suit and cape that charged into the office. "Hurray, Batgirl's here! We're saved, Commissioner!" O'Hara declared in delight.

"Ah yes, the ever so mighty Batgirl," Catwoman sneered coldly, striding towards the youth, "I've heard a lot about you. Holding yourself as a moral paragon of womanhood, yet you're so adamant that only men can be cops..."

"Well I'm different; crime fighters are naturally superior human beings," Batgirl snapped defensively, "And if the good Lord had intended women to be anything other than housewives and hostesses, he would have created them as such at the beginning of time."

"Touché, Batgirl!" O'Hara declared happily with a pump of his fist. "Such a bright girl, isn't she, Commissioner?" he asked the fake Gordon, "Always knowing the right thing to say at the right time."

"Indeed, Chief O'Hara," the fake Gordon beamed at her, "Take them, Batgirl," he commanded her. She immediately rushed forward toward the villains-who opened fire with a wide spray of bullets, sending her down to the ground in a flash. She stumbled to get back up, only to be set upon by Catwoman, who slashed her face with her "claws," drawing blood. The two of them brawled on the floor, pulling of slugging at each other, until one hard Catwoman tug on her foe's head pulled her cowl right off. "Barbara!?" stunned, her father stumbled forward, pulling off his gas mask in shock, "What...what is the meaning of this...?"

"Daddy, please don't be mad..." she pleaded.

"Oh I'm not mad, Barbara; I could never possibly be mad with a darling angel like you. You poor girl, pretending to be Batgirl to try and impress me..."

"What?" she frowned, rising up, "Um, Daddy, I...I am Batgirl, actually..."

Her father, however, burst into laughter. "You, Batgirl? You couldn't possibly be Batgirl, Barbara. You're too much of a darling to be Batgirl; Batgirl indeed..."

"Daddy, really, I have really been Batgirl for the last year..."

"Oh come now, Barbara. This joke is funny enough as it is; there's no need to try and stretch it further..."

"Joke!? You really think this is some big joke!?" frustrated, Catwoman cracked her whip at him, making him retreat, "No wonder that moron left you in charge of the city if you're this stupid! Anyway, what do we do with the wench?" she asked her colleagues, pointing at the now unmasked Batgirl.

"Well if you ask me, I think Daddy's little girl needs to be punished severely for lying to him," the Joker grinned darkly, "Bob, will you do the honors, please?" he asked his top henchman.

"With pleasure," a sick smile crossed Bob's face. He seized the now former Batgirl by the arm and dragged her kicking and screaming out the door. "No!" the commissioner tried to rush after them.

"Uh, uh, uh," Catwoman jumped into his path and held a sharp set of claws in his face, "If she's such a strong heroine as she insists she is, she should be able to help herself."

"Let me through, I'm her father...!"

"Bane, hold him," Poison Ivy ordered the large thug. With a loud yell of, "HOOOOOOLD!" the fake Bane grabbed the fake Gordon and held him tightly in place. "Let go of me, you, you...overgrown hedgerow!" was the best the commissioner could come up with.

"HOOOOOOOLLLD!" the fake Bane roared again, squeezing him tighter. From up the hall, a petrified cry could now be heard: "Daddy, please, help me!"

"I'm trying to help, Barbara; Chief O'Hara, do something!" the fake Gordon pleaded his adjutant. O'Hara, however, was cowering behind the desk, visibly terrified. "Chief O'Hara, help Barbara and me, or you're fired!" the commissioner shouted at him.

"DADDY, PLEASE!" came an even more terrified scream from up the hall. "You're doing great," Catwoman called mockingly at the door at her, "You're showing everyone what a wonderfully strong woman you are."

"HELP ME, PLEASE!" came another desperate shout. "I am ordering all of you, make that goon stop right now, or I'll...I'll..I'll charge every last one of you with every crime in the book!" the fake Gordon tried to threaten the villains. They all burst into laughter at the absurdity of the threat. "You really want him to stop?" the Joker approached his prisoner.

"As commissioner of Gotham City, I order you to order him to stop, right now!"

"Pretty please with sugar on it?"

"Yes, if I must, pretty please with sugar on it!"

"OK, I guess you mean it," the Joker shrugged. He walked to the doorway. "OK Bob, time to wrap it up," he called down the hall to his number one guy. Moments later, a pair of shots rang out, and everything went silent. "You...you...you inhuman animal!" the fake Gordon raged tearfully, "That wasn't what I meant...how could you!?" he tore into Bob as the goon reentered the office, now covered in blood, "How could you do something that horrific to such a sweet, innocent girl!?"

"Because I could. And it felt good. Real good," Bob told him with a twisted grin of satisfaction. Roaring, the fake Gordon squirmed around in the fake Bane's arms, trying to strangle Bob, but proved unable to get close enough to him. "I think, Jimmy, you're a little too wound up here," the would-be Two-Face smugly squeezed the commissioner's cheeks, "I think some time to yourself in Arkham Asylum would do you a world of good. We'll rule over the city while you're gone, since we're definitely better suited at it than you are. Take him down and lock him and cowardly cad," he gestured at the quivering O'Hara behind the desk, "in a paddy wagon and have someone take them to the asylum for some special treatment. Maybe they'll end up better, just like we all are."

"TAAAAAAAKKE!" the fake Bane dragged the kicking, howling fake Gordon out the door. The strongman of the circus gang, meanwhile, marched over to the desk and hauled O'Hara out. "All right, that's assaulting an officer of the law!" the chief weakly tried to threaten him and Lawrence the goon, who had seized his legs now, "That's life for both of you...!"

"Yeah, sure, we'll let you know how it turns out, bud," the Penguin cut him off, "Let me give you a parting gift, though, on the way out."

He whipped out a gray umbrella, aimed it at O'Hara's face, and pulled the trigger, spraying him with more acid. "That'll give you a new look on life-and a new look yourself," he snickered mockingly after him.

"Very good, Oswald, you're starting to embrace the lighter side of light," the Joker slapped him on the back with a laugh. "All right, ladies and gentlemen, we are in charge now," he told his accomplices, plopping down behind Gordon's desk and leaning back in his seat, "And so, let's secure the building and prepare to run this city permanently into the ground."

"The Final Joke at last?" Bob inquired eagerly.

"The Final Joke at last, Bob," his boss flashed him a thumbs-up, "It's time to pull out all the stops and wipe Gotham completely off the map."