Clayface oozes through a broken window pane. The clay slowly reconstitutes into the erect posture it originally was in.
He lumbers through the empty building 'till he reaches a certain room. One in there he starts up a portable power generator. The lights in the room flicker on & off until they sustain illumination and grow brightly, slowly.
His chest ripples slowly until an electronic device emerges from his mass.
He reaches for a screw driver from the other side of the room and once had, he starts unscrewing nails from the casing of the stolen item.
He hears a noise and stops to listen. Someone is approaching. He morphs his left hand into a long, sharp point and awaits.
The light he had started in the room masked the intruder's shadow. Another man of clay emerges from the darkness. Clayface relents on his stance. The broad shoulders of clay go back & forth as the mass approaches.
"Did you get it?" barks Clayface.
"I did, but…"
"Agh, enough with your butts! Do you want to stay like this forever?!"
The other clay man places the stolen object on the table and speaks, "But at what cost? Just taking what we want isn't right. You must know that."
Clayface turns around and his outer clay vibrates as he yells, "And this is?!"
"I'm not saying that, but sooner or later Batman will come into the picture. He could help. We need not go down this path. He's a man of his word. If he says he'll help, he'll will."
"Do you want to be indebted to that man? A man who won't even show himself for what he really is? How can he help us? He can't even help himself," he looks back down and continues taking out the last of the screws.
"Did you find the parts?" asks the other man of clay.
Clayface removes the casing and pulls out a circuit board. He holds it up for the other to see, "This is what freedom looks like. Get the mixture ready," his eyes wonder as he thinks, while disassembling the item he brought in.
Clayface's mind goes back in time; colors are faded and the imagery appeared in a soft glow.
"But … I've been with the studio for over ten years! My pictures have been some of the highest grossing you've ever had!"
"I'm sorry Matt; times are changing, and so are your looks. Other studios are casting younger actors and drawing in bigger crowds. We have to stay competitive," replies a man from a big, carved, wooden desk; name plate in gold.
Matt feels his face and puts his left hand out, open in an expression of helplessness, "They're just a couple of face lines. And when this next picture is done, I'll be able to get some sleep and the bags will dissipate. Don't do this to me – this is my career!"
"There's always plastic surgery," he reclines back, fiddling with papers, not giving Matt his full attention.
"You know that can cast a lot and the results can sometimes be damaging," replies Matt.
"The days of Audrey Hepburn and Dimitri Tiomkin are over. It's time to realize that. After your current picture is wrapped, we're releasing you from our contract."
"Please Mr. Lagonstein," says Matt.
The door to Lagonstein's office opens and the receptionist speaks, "Mr. Lagonstein, you have a 1:00 lunch meeting with Mr. Reeve."
"Ah, yes. Sorry, Matt, I got to go," he gets up, puts some papers in his briefcase, and heads out.
Matt turns around, "Please!!!"
He watches the door shut and focuses on the doorknob; it transforms into a button with the word "OFF" underneath it; his mind now back in the current.
"AHG!!!" Clayface throws the piece across the room violently.
…
Batman sits in his chair in front of the massive computer. He puts two circuit boards in a circle on the computer station to his right; red lighted grids appear and blue laser lights shine down, scanning the objects.
"Computer, analyze the electrical components; can the two be combined to form weapon circuitry?"
The computer makes some noises and clicks and buttons lights up and a blue glowing picture of the pieces flash across the screen, "Negative. Minimal tactical value," it replies in it's male voice.
"Hum," he puts a hand over his mouth while examining the screen.
"Problem, sir?" asks Alfred, pretending to dust, but really spying for interest.
"The pieces Clayface stole don't seem to be of any use."
"Maybe they are part of a bigger picture."
"Perhaps. Computer, total electrical current capacity of the combined units."
"Analyzing. Maximum tolerance, 50 volts."
"Would not the more perplexing question be how to find a man who can assume the appearance of anyone of his choosing?" asks Alfred.
"That's the easy one. Daggett ruined Matt Hagen's life permanently; Clayface will come to him."
"Bruce!" says Dick, who comes running out of the elevator, in his regular attire.
Batman gets up, "What is it, Dick?"
"Bat symbol's lit up."
Batman pulls the cowl over his head, "It would be nice if he assumed the form of an innocent man, for once."
Batman heads to get his belt while Dick retrieves his costume.
"Not so easy a form to take," comments Alfred.