By Dr. Dominator
The warm summer air rushes through her flowing red hair like powerful fingers as the athletic young woman swoops through the hot August night. As she nears the museum roof, at the peak of her arc, Batgirl releases the taught cable, executes a perfect mid-air somersault and lands gracefully on the hard, dark surface feet first. Landing with a firm thump, she stays in the low crouch that her momentum has brought her to and swings her head around searching for any lurking figures, any moving shadows behind the spinning air conditioning ducts. There are none. She hears no alarms and no shouts from the guards below. There is only the soft swish of her cowl as she turns her head to cover every point on the compass. That done, she smiles widely and stands up straight. Her bright teeth and the sheen of her slick costume catch the moonlight’s pale glow.
The lock on the roof door of the museum proves only slightly annoying as the sophisticated equipment used by the Heroine of the Night issues a soft high-pitched whine that finally disengages the electronic lock on the third try of its unlocking algorithm.
The lithe beauty quietly yet swiftly pads down the stairwell in her knee-high rubber-soled boots. Low-wattage night lamps on the walls throw pale shadows on the wall of her beautiful 5' 7" frame at each landing as she descends to the third floor. It is there where the lure of the famous Brimstone Diamond sits in its protective bulletproof display case.
She opens the door to the third floor and the hard concrete gives way to highly-polished oak flooring. The museum, closed for five hours by now, is quiet except for the low hum of air conditioners and de-humidifiers keeping the temperature and moisture of the room at perfect levels to retard any injurious effects on the valuable objects housed within the exhibits.
Striding forward through the dark halls, the lithe red-haired crimefighter recalls the map of the museum and turns a quick left through the ghostly Egyptian exhibit with its large sarcophagus, elaborate painted hieroglyphics and bejeweled death masks. There were plenty of treasures in Gotham’s Museum of World History, but only the Brimstone Diamond, it’s most recent acquisition, serves as the bait for the rumored heist that Batgirl was here to prevent.
She was here on a tip from a member of Dante Reardon’s gang. She had collared the young thug just yesterday during the robbery of a check cashing store in Low Town where the property values were pitiful and crime was rampant. He was boasting that even though he was caught, his boss was going to steal the new rare red diamond from the museum sometime in the next few days and that neither Batman, Robin, the police or some big-titted Bat-wanna-be would be able to stop it even if they wanted to. After angrily knocking the crude thud senseless with her batstick, Batgirl had informed the police of the planned heist but they just thought it was all hot air from a loser who’d been caught and was trying to make himself sound important enough to plea bargain his way to a lesser sentence. The commissioner had merely increased the guards at the museum by two of Gotham’s finest.
Of course Batman and Robin wouldn’t be able to prevent any attempted heist because they were out of the country following the Joker undercover on a South American drug deal that the arch criminal was arranging to fund his fiendish activities. That left Batgirl as the sole defender of fair Gotham for a week and she was thrilled to be able to take up the mantle as the heroine of choice.
Typical of the members of the bat persuasion, Batgirl had not informed the police that she would be part of the security team. Bat team members worked in the shadows and the less that people knew about them, the safer it was for them to operate. Hence, the stealthy approach, the triggered lock and the cautious approach as Batgirl keeps a keen eye out for the guards as well as for Dante Reardon and his group.
As the cowled beauty turns the corner from the Egyptian exhibit to the Hall of Historic Gems and Jewelry, her sharp ears catch the sound of a thud and a thump. Pressing against the near wall, Batgirl freezes in place to determine the source of the noise. It came from the next exhibit room, two away from the room where the Brimstone Diamond was located. She suspects it was the sound of a guard being taken out and rapidly makes her way along the wall until she comes to the archway of the room where the noise had emanated. Peering around the wall, she sees two men crouching over an inert figure. Both are clad in black clothing with black ski masks. One is a very large man. Even crouching, he looms hugely over his compatriot, a man of much less stature. They are zip-tying the downed man’s wrists behind his back. The buzzing of the zip-tie being pulled tight against the guard’s wrists floats across the gloomy room.
The smaller of the two men is doing the binding while the big fellow is gripping the inert figure’s shoulders. The smaller man’s movements are smooth, almost graceful and very quick.
Either he’s highly practiced or he’s got the metabolism of a jackrabbit. But I bet it must be hot as hell under those masks.
The dazed man lets out a groan of pain as the two figures turn him over. Then the gleam of a dim wall-sconce reflects off the badge of the helpless guard and Batgirl confirms that the two men are, in fact, the thieves she has come to thwart. The guard moans again and slumps into unconsciousness.
The brave heroine steps through the doorway, moving forward past a large replica of the Thinker statue by Rodan, with rapid, silent strides, hips swaying, breasts bobbing slightly under tight rubberized ultra-thin Kevlar. She is confident in her ability to handle these two thugs. She’s handled hundreds just like them.
“You two have quite a stupid accomplice. He told me you were planning to steal the Brimstone Diamond and here you are.”
Both men snap their heads around at the sound of her voice.
“Batgirl!” The big guy’s eyes go wide in the eye-holes of his mask. The smaller man’s eyes simply acknowledge her presence with cool detachment. Almost as if she were expected. Batgirl’s senses go on high alert but she hears nothing as she stares down the two men for several quiet seconds.
“So,” the red-haired Mistress of the Night says with quiet certitude, “you going to give up quietly or are you going to try to make my night interesting?”
“Oh, I think it’ll be much more interesting than you expect, Batgirl,” says the smaller man smugly. “Jo-Jo, why don’t you demonstrate some of your expertise on the little lady .”
“I’d love that, Mr. Reardon.” Jo-Jo stands up to his full 6' 7" height. A full foot taller than the cowled crimefighter, the big man must weigh in at over 300 pounds.
“Dante Reardon in the flesh. Well, this is a big night for both of us,” Batgirl announces as she watches Jo-Jo carefully, waiting for his move. “I get to take in a famous criminal and he gets to enjoy his first humiliating booking at a police station.
“We’ll see who gets humiliated tonight, you creepy rodent,” Dante says with calm certainty of his own.
Meanwhile, Jo-Jo begins to circle to the left and around the Rodan statue to put Batgirl between himself and Dante. Countering this move, Batgirl actually moves toward Jo-Jo which freezes him in shock for a second. Nobody ever headed toward him in a fight! He raises his fists in a strange stance, arms wide apart, thumbs down and begins once more to walk toward Batgirl. The two combatants close the space quickly, Batgirl still waiting for Jo-Jo’s first move. When they are six feet apart, Jo-Jo lunges forward and brings his fists together in a snapping thud of flesh on flesh precisely where the beautiful crimefighter’s head had been just one second before. She, of course, has vacated the space where the fists meet by dropping down, grabbing the big man’s belt and launching herself between his legs, her slick costumed butt sliding along the floor until she’s two feet behind him. She instantly turns over on her stomach, grabs his ankles and pulls them toward her with all her might. It’s a miscalculation. He’s too big and heavy to take down that way. She rolls away as the twisting Jo-Jo just misses clocking her on the side of the head with a wide-arcing backhand.
“Stay still, you flying mouse!” Jo-Jo spins around and strides forward faster than Batgirl had anticipated for a man of his size. His size-15 foot comes smashing down against the hard wood floor, just missing the chance to break her thigh bone by a mere foot as the lithe heroine leaps up and pirouettes out of range.
“Stay still and be turned into guacamole? No thanks, big guy. I’ll stay out of your way for now if it’s all the same to you.” She risks a quick glance at Reardon who’s stayed in place this entire time, just watching the twosome parry with each other. He actually seems amused by the show.
“I’d say that round was a draw, little girl,” Reardon calls out. “But you have to be fast to keep away from Jo-Jo, as you can see. And he’s pretty tireless. This would be fun to watch but I’m here for a diamond. I’ll be over there, Jo-Jo, when you finish with this flying rat.”
“Sure you won’t stay and watch me take out your friend, Dante,” Batgirl asks from the wall she’s standing beside. “It won’t be that long, Really,” she adds, trying to goad Jo-Jo into a rush move.
It works. The big man lunges forward, his fists once more coming to a shuddering smack exactly where Batgirl’s waist had been before she launched herself halfway up the wall. She flips over Jo-Jo with both hands on his shoulders, using him like a pommel horse. She lands behind him once again and this time, instead of trying to take him down with her own strength, she reaches into her utility belt for one of eight knock-out gas bomblets held within the small square compartment. She pulls her arm back to throw it at Jo-Jo’s feet, knowing that the pellet would have more chance exploding against the wood floor than the giant’s chest. The smoke would be better close to his face but it was fast-acting gas. She was pretty sure it would be effective enough.
She never gets to find out. There is a loud slurping sound behind her and her arm is suddenly restrained. She is awkwardly unbalanced and swings her head around to see what’s holding her. There’s nothing there but the Rodan statue. Completely confused, Batgirl loses focus for a moment, just long enough for Jo-Jo to turn and stride forward. This time he does connect. Batgirl hears the rush of air just as she turns her head and sees Jo-Jo’s fist come together at her left bicep.
“YEEAAGGHH!” Batgirl screams in shock and pain as her entire arm goes numb. Her other hand jerks open and the bomblet is flung off in the opposite direction, smashing against one of the walls. Thick plumes of pale green smoke pour out harmlessly into the air in the far end of the room. A dazed Batgirl sees Jo-Jo release her arm, take a step back into his attack stance with arms wide apart and swing his long arms forward again, this time at her head. The athletic heroine saves herself by cartwheeling to her right. Her good arm spins her in a neat circle off to the side but the momentum carries her onto her bad arm which gives way immediately. Batgirl flounders badly and spins hard into the wall leading back to the Egyptian exhibit before falling into a crumpled heap. She’s not unconscious but the pain breaks against her thoughts in waves that make her dizzy momentarily. She spots Jo-Jo walking across the floor at her, in his awkward but dangerous stance once more. His fists are spread wide as he advances rapidly.
Crouching and staring at her huge assailant, Batgirl doesn’t understand how she came to be in this position. Had her arm gotten caught in a crook of the statue? There was no more time left to ponder it as the looming Jo-Jo begins to swing his fists together, their contact point intended to be her right knee. At exactly the right moment, Batgirl reflexes kick in and she leaps left into the corner as Jo-Jo’s mighty fists crush nothing but air.
“You fuckin’ rodent! Stay still!” Jo-Jo shouts. Batgirl is pleased at the shout, hoping it brings guards to help her fight these two thieves. She dashes toward the statue and then around it, putting it between her and Jo-Joe to give her time to recover all her senses. Meanwhile, Dante Reardon is probably busy cutting into the Brimstone Diamond’s case. She had to dispatch Jo-Jo quickly and stop this heist somehow.
Jo-Jo circles around the statue and Batgirl does a much tighter one, still keeping the large black mass of ebony stone between herself and the huge thug stalking her.
“Can’t run forever, girlie,” Jo-Jo says, circling in the opposite direction now. “I’m fast and you’re running out of time. Dante’s probably got the stone already and then it’ll be two against one and you’re not doing so hot already!”
“That’s the sound of a desperate, frustrated blow-hard, Jo-Jo. What’s the matter? Can’t handle a girl half your size? Got performance issues, big fella?” Batgirl continues to keep the statue between them as she taunts the big man.
“You’ll see just how well I perform when I get my hands on you, bat-bitch!”
“Sticks and stones, Jo-Jo. Sticks and stones.” She watches as Jo-Jo dashes forward right toward the statue, she circles it immediately, putting it between them yet again but Jo-Jo’s quick inside dash has cut the circumference of his circle significantly. As he cuts left, Batgirl is forced to turn toward him with her back to the statue to prepare for her escape move. She studies his massive arms to see which way they’re tending, ready to leap in the opposite direction. She has a tingle of sensation in the fingertips of her left arm which was good news. She actually might be able to use it in a few minutes. She quickly takes another gas bomblet from her utility belt as Jo-Jo comes in from the right, fists flying together right toward her chest. Rearing back to throw the gas pellet, Batgirl hears the loud slurping sound again and feels her own fist held tightly shut, the bomblet held frozen against her palm. There’s no time left, Jo-Jo’s arms are swinging toward her bust when suddenly they stop in mid-swing. And then everything goes black. From behind her, a thick black ball of muck encompasses her entire head, blinding her completely and cutting off all her air. She can see nothing, hear nothing, and her nostrils and mouth are completely filled with something that tastes like mud.
“AAWWGKK!” Batgirl gags heavily, held immobile and unable to respond as precious seconds tick away. She then panics, trying in desperation to reach up with her bad arm to pull whatever this is off her head. But the arm won’t respond and the lack of air is making her lightheaded.
And then it’s gone as if it had never been there. There’s not even any residue on her cowl or her face. She stands there stunned, unable to process what just happened. Jo-Jo seems equally confused and immobile. Jerking her head around, Batgirl sees nothing but the statue. Then, remembering the last time she was thwarted with the gas pellet, she realizes she still has it in her hand and throws it immediately at Jo-Jo’s feet. It explodes with a huge plume of pale green gas that envelopes Jo-Jo’s lower body and drifts up toward his face. Lurching out of the cloud, Jo-Jo falls back on his hands and crab-walks away from the green gassy menace. He’d barely inhaled any of the gas but he was still slightly dizzy. That was powerful stuff!
Seeing her opportunity, Batgirl feels her arm is strong enough again so she does a double forward tumbling run right at Jo-Jo. She aims to kick his lights out with the heel of her boot. But coming out of the second tumbling flip, a sudden harsh buzzing in her left ear ruins her concentration and badly throws off her balance. The flying female lands awkwardly on her right leg and sprawls forward on her face, then slides helplessly along the smooth polished oak floor until she collides hard into the opposite wall, forehead first.
Seeing this, Jo-Jo stands up, quickly regaining the full use of his senses from the slight effect of the gas bomb. His size and constitution gave him a big advantage against Batgirl’s weapon and now he was going to crush her to pulp. He rushes at the sprawled heroine and takes a flying leap, planning to land with his feet right on her back. The dazed red-head turns her head and sees the hurtling behemoth coming at her with his soles aimed right at her back. She rolls to the side three, four, five times, Her tender arm sends shooting pains all the way up to her shoulder as she does, but there’s no other options in this case.
Jo-Jo lands on the wooden floor a mere five feet away. The guards downstairs have to have heard that! What the hell is going on here? Where is everyone?
A fuming Jo-Jo turns his head to where Batgirl has rolled and his eyes are wide with surprise at how fast this red-headed bimbo was. He was no slouch but she seemed to be operating on another plane of speed. She had endurance too. Even after taking a lump from that horrible spill, the little thing was back on her feet, even if she was swaying a bit.
Cautiously, Jo -Jo begins to stalk her again. Batgirl decides she has to cut this guy down to size by knocking him with a steady barrage of hard kicks while keeping away from those fists. And that was the trick wasn’t it. She also decided to stay away from the statue as well. She didn’t know if she was dealing with magic or drugs or what, but something kept attacking her whenever she got the upper hand and the statue was the only answer. And why would a smaller mock-up of Rodan’s Thinker be in the Hall of Gems and Jewelry anyway? That didn’t make....
“Clayface!” Batgirl blurts the name out even as she dodges away from a bull rush by Jo-Jo. He whiffs mightily, his arms swinging past each other as his fists fail to meet and he slams himself in the back.
“ARGGHH!” He howls.
“Now you know what it feels like, lardass!” Batgirl shouts, keeping away from Jo-Jo and the statue now at all costs. Watching in grim anger and a touch of fear, Batgirl watches as the statue makes a loud slurping sound and transforms quickly into a big, brown man-shaped figure of mud the same height and size as Jo-Jo.
“What’s the fuck is the problem with you, Jo-Jo? I stopped her twice from gassing you and you still couldn’t take out the girl!”
“Hey, Clayface. She’s fast. Can’t you see that?”
“Sure I can see that,” growls the Man of Muck. “I just thought you were better than her from all your bragging. Guess we were both wrong.”
“Don’t worry, Clay, I’ll get her.”
“And I’ll help you,” The monstrous Man of Muck replies.
“Me, too,” says Dante Reardon as he walks into the room holding the huge red Brimstone Diamond in his right hand, angling it back and forth to catch the dim lights from wall sconces. “Just as soon as I put my little prize away. I told you no one could stop me from taking it, Batgirl. Or at least my plant did. And now that you took the bait, it’s time to finish you off!”
“I think you’ll find it’s harder to finish me off than you think, Reardon,” Batgirl answers the smirking gang leader.
“It’s three against one, girlie, in case you haven’t noticed,” Jo-Jo chimes in.
“Just my kind of fight,” Batgirl says as she slowly retreats back into the Egyptian exhibit. “And what did you guys do to all the guards?”
“Free pizza for the night shift from the management, supposedly,” Reardon replies. “Laced with a very powerful sleep agent. Everyone enjoyed it except for Roger back there who turned down the free meal because he’s lactose intolerant. Fortunately for us, turns out that he’s also blackjack intolerant.”
“Nice work. And the bulletproof case for the diamond?” Batgirl continues to retreat from the nasty trio who follow her slowly into the Egyptian exhibit.
“Diamond-tipped drill and acid plastique. They’re the height of fashion for every well-dressed burglar.”
“You two expect to talk each other to death,” snarls Clayface. “Jo-Jo, cut her off from the exit archway there. Keep her pinned in this area. I like the atmosphere. Nice and dusty. Feels like home.”
“I guess all this dirt would feel comfy to a walking mud pie, wouldn’t it?” Batgirl says as she swings herself up and vaults onto the cover of the sarcophagus. She stands high in the room, surveying the surfaces she can use in the upcoming fight. There are sconces on the wall she can grip, display cases for cover and to use as high ground, and stone statues of varied sizes she can use for launching platforms if need be. It would be a challenge but the cowled crimefighter thought she could handle it.
Jo-Jo stands at the entrance to the exhibit, a mere 60 feet from the stairwell door that Batgirl used when she entered the public area of the museum. Dante is covering the archway leading to the Gemstones exhibit. It looked like Clayface would be the one pressing the attack while the two gang members would try to keep her in play like flippers in a pinball machine. Well, this pinball could pull off some highly surprising moves that would get her past these slow-minded flippers when she had to.
“Come on down, pretty hero. Let’s get to know each other,” Clayface says, moving toward the sarcophagus of an ancient Egyptian pharoah on which Batgirl stands.
“Why not come up here and play, Dirtman,” Batgirl responds, eyeing the mucky predator with some apprehension. He was a tricky and dangerous foe with whom she’d have to be extremely careful. “Or don’t you like heights?” From the high ground of the display case, she watches as Clayface walks forward.
“You talk too much, Batgirl. It’s time to fill your mouth with something more suitable than your stupid chatter,” Clayface replies coldly.
From her high ground on the sarcophagus, Batgirl sees Jo-Jo lightly knocking his fists together in eager anticipation while Dante takes out a switchblade and snaps it open with a loud swish and a click as the blade locks in place. Meanwhile Clayface has reached the sarcophagus. He suddenly snatches at Batgirl’s ankle but he’s too slow. Launching herself with a mighty kickoff away from the mummy’s case, Batgirl leaps to the left. She grabs the top of a display case as she flies past and uses it as a fulcrum to swing around it and land on the floor a dozen feet away from a frowning Clayface and not far from Dante Reardon. The gang leader swings his knife in a wide arc that misses a ducking Batgirl by half a foot. She drops to the floor backwards, landing on her palms, her elbows bent as she executes a neat leg sweep that catches Reardon in the calf and knocks him on his butt. His head bumps hard against the floor but the scowling man manages to keep a hold on his knife. Flipping over to her front, Batgirl swings her leg once more. The wide sweep knocks the knife out of Dante’s hand as the boot heel slams into his knuckles with a painful crunch.
“Yeeoww!” Dante barks in pain as the knife spins off into the dimly lit gem exhibit. “You’ll pay for that, bitch!” Dante shakes his bloody hand as he awkwardly rises back to a standing position using his good hand to push off the floor.
“You shouldn’t play with nasty toys, Reardon, if you can’t use them properly,” Batgirl taunts even as she takes out her miniature cable launcher and shoots it at the ceiling. The pointed anchor bolt embeds deep into the hard plaster 20 feet away and 16 feet up. Hitting the auto-retract control, Batgirl swiftly flies away from Reardon and over the head of a surprised Clayface. With her amazing speed and grace, Batgirl swings around a statue and comes to a stop, hanging just above the head of a shocked Jo-Jo. A sudden jerk of her knee brings her toe straight between the big man’s eyes and they cross in dazed confusion as he stumbles backward several steps from the sudden, hard kick in the face by Batgirl’s pointed boot.
“That’s for smashing my arm, you stupid bastard,” Batgirl hisses, pressing the release button that collapses the anchor bolt. She drops neatly to the floor even as she presses the retraction button that pulls coil of steel cable back into its housing with a whine. She quickly replaces the device in her utility belt as Jo-Jo recovers his balance and furiously rushes at the red-haired cowled crusader. Once again, Batgirl drops down and uses Jo-Jo’s belt to slide under the wide grasping arms and away behind his back.
“You damn sneaky cunt! Stop doing that!” Jo-Jo spins around only to have Batgirl’s boot slam between his legs in a crushing blow to his groin.
“GHUUUNHH!” The big man drops to his knees as his eyes roll up. He falls over on his side clutching his crotch with a hiss as loud as a broken steam valve.
“The bigger they are...and all that,” Batgirl says with a grin as she neatly pirouettes away from the disabled giant. She twirls over to a low, wide glass display case of ancient Egyptian burial objects. She sees a glowering Clayface starting toward her from across the room and a frowning Dante Reardon slowly massaging the raw and bleeding knuckles on one hand with the palm of his other hand.
"Not too bad, Babs," she thinks to herself. "You got ‘em on their heels."
Batgirl smiles at her adept handling of the situation so far. Now she had to hand Clayface some kind of punishment to keep him off balance.
She takes her razor-edged titanium batarang out of it’s special case on her belt and flings it with all her might directly at the angry, charging Clayface’s right arm. The spinning blur slices deeply into his form, carving a thick niche out of his arm and drawing a howl from the big, brown villain.
While in any particular static form he chose, Clayface could feel some pain. When changing between forms, his plasticity made him invulnerable to sensation. In his roughly human shape, he wouldn’t bleed but the removal of some of his muddy substance by sharp objects or explosives did deplete his energies. The greater the mass of his substance that you removed or disrupted, the greater the energy loss. The small chunk the batarang cut off him was akin to stabbing someone in the arm with a salad fork. It would hurt like hell. And Clayface’s mouth opened wide as his howl filled the room.
The batarang was already back in Batgirl’s kevlar glove and she threw it again, this time hard at Clayface’s other arm. This throw he was more prepared for and ducked away from the spinning device before it could do more damage. It spun right back to Batgirl’s outstretched arm and she replaced the deadly tool back in her belt case to have both hands free for her escape from Clayface. He was now rushing toward the waist-high display case she stood behind.
“I am so going to enjoy breaking you down and knocking that smug little smirk off your pasty face, Batgirl,” growls the looming Man of Muck as he plows directly at her.
“Have to catch me first, Clay-doh,” chuckles Batgirl as does a quick backflip away from the oozing brown form and lands beside an exhibit wall. Seeing Jo-Jo still moaning on the floor curled up in a fetal position, the cowled beauty quickly dashes right, heading back towards a scowling Dante Reardon. She is going to get that diamond back and get out of this place. She was doing well for now, but this trap was a bit nasty for her to try to subdue all three foes at once. At least she can prevent the theft.
Racing forward toward Dante, she places two hands out before her, ready to vault over a four-foot high stone statue of a greyhound; a prized dog during the heyday of Egyptian culture. Just then the disturbing buzzing she felt in her ear before returns. Louder and deeper within her head than last time, the inner ear disturbance completely disrupts Batgirl’s balance and spatial orientation. Her left hand slips off the dog’s head as she’s vaulting it, her shin bangs against the stone head of the statue, and the once graceful leap turns into an ungainly flailing back flop onto the hard oak floor.
“HUUNGHH!” A blast of air is forced out of the grunting Batgirl as all the wind is knocked out of her. She lies there, momentarily stunned, one knee up, her cowl over her face and her arms spread out wide in opposite directions. She never sees Reardon rushing over to her. She hears his thumping footsteps but is struggling weakly to get the cowl off her face and get her breath back when his fist slams into her stomach.
“OOOOMMPHH!” Batgirl doubles up around the fist, lying on her side and pinning it in place even as she tries desperately to recover the air she so desperately needs. Reardon can’t pull his hand away from the loudly wheezing red-head who has now clamped her hands around his wrist as she fights to prevail against this unexpected set-back.
With his free hand, he grabs Batgirl’s cowl and jerks it hard. This pulls the top of the unwary heroine’s head fiercely hard against the base of the stone dog statue.
“HUUGHHNN!” This stuns Batgirl so badly that she releases her grip on Dante’s wrist and sags limply to the floor moaning in pain. Her cowl is still draped loosely over her head and the Mistress of the Night fights against the blackness of her cowl and the looming unconsciousness that threatens to overwhelm her.
“That’s for kicking me in the hand, bitch!” Reardon barks. “Now I’m gonna’ tear you limb from limb.” Hauling the dazed, bruised and blinded champion to her feet, Reardon swings the stumbling red-head in a half circle until she crashes into a low display case filled with Egyptian scrolls and ink drawings.
“OOOONHH.” Batgirl’s pelvis is flat against the front of the case, she is draped over the glass top, her hands dangle over the other side and her cowl drapes off to the side revealing a grimacing face gone pasty white.
Reardon comes at her from behind while Clayface stalks forward toward her from the front, far across the room. The Man of Muck waves off Jo-Jo with his hand who is finally standing up and angrily starting to come towards the sprawled heroine.
“Stay there, Jo-Jo,” Clayface shouts. “I don’t want her slipping out of here. You’ll get your chance at her.”
“I fuckin’ better!” Jo-Jo retreats to the entrance he was guarding. Dante, distracted while watching this exchange, goes to grab Batgirl and flip her on her back when he realizes that the dazed red-head has slipped off the case and is kneeling on the floor, facing away from him and swaying in place. Leaning down, Reardon seizes her elbow to lift her up off the floor when the limp female suddenly turns into him and buries her fist into his gut.
She starts to launch a follow-up uppercut from mid-crouch but a sudden buzzing in her ears and an overwhelming wave of dizziness completely confuses Batgirl and her awkward, flailing punch misses Reardon completely while pulling the champion off balance and leaving her belly badly exposed. Dante takes full advantage of this. Shaking off her punch to his abdomen, Reardon rears back and drives his left fist into Batgirl’s belly with savage ferocity.
“GGHHHOOONFFFF!” Even through the Kevlar, Batgirl has all her wind punched right out of her. She collapses to her knees before Dante Reardon, wheezing and doubled over. He takes her chin in his left hand and delivers and crushing jab to the right side of her face, toppling the stunned girl over in a defenseless, slack-jawed sprawl.
“....uuuhhhhhhnnnnnn....” Completely out of it, Batgirl is lifted up under the armpits by Dante and laid out onto her back so that her spreadeagled thighs now dangle off the front edge of display table, her head rests on the back edge and her arms lie loosely at her side on the glass of the case. The gang leader positions his hips between Batgirl’s thighs so his crotch directly presses against hers. One of his hands begins to maul her breasts while the other grips her throat, tight under her chin, pushing her face back so she’s looking straight up as her airway is compressed within the strong man’s palm.
“EHHLGHHKK!” A choking, befuddled Batgirl reaches up with both hands to grab the wrist of the hand holding her throat, pulling at it with desperation. She was badly out-leveraged in this position. Her weight was probably 30 pounds less than Dante’s at least and her dangling feet gave her no strength to fight his bulky frame pinning her to the table. The fact that she could feel the thick roll of his penis pressing against the think rubberized Kevlar covering her groin only served to frustrate the outmaneuvered heroine.
“I’m gettin’ me some genuine Bat pussy tonight!” Reardon smiles down at the grimacing girl he’s crudely rubbing himself against. This part of his plan was coming together exactly as he’d hoped. Hiring Clayface for this was a stroke of genius. He was willing to give up 40 percent of what this rock would fetch, especially for the chance to fuck this haughty, tight-assed bitch hero! “Cause the famous Batgirl is not getting out of this trap!”
Dante squeezes even harder on Batgirl’s throat and the wide green pupils begin to helplessly drift back up under the green eye-shadowed lids.
“HHHHSSSSSGGKKKKK!” Gasping through the choke-hold, Batgirl does the unthinkable. She takes her hands off Dante’s wrist and tries to push him away by pressing her palms against his chest. Her position affords no help there whatsoever, something Batgirl knew before she even tried. But she had to do it in order to slide her hands down and hold onto Reardon’s waist so he can’t shift away. Bringing her legs up behind him, the dazed but dangerous heroine jabs her boot heels with all her remaining strength deep into Reardon’s sides, right where his kidneys are located.
“YEOWWW!” Dante Reardon is badly hurt. Both hands instantly release as the grimacing hoodlum reaches back to grip his lower torso in agony. He tries to stumble back but, held in check by the splayed hands of the red-headed champion, only gets a foot away before Batgirl brings her knee up and knocks his nuts back to pre-puberty.
“GUUNHHH!” Ghostly white, the gang leader drops to the floor in a heap and curls up in gut-wrenching, hissing torment. And Batgirl pulls herself off the table a mere second before Clayface brings two square hammers that he’s formed his hands into down on the display case. Glass flies everywhere as Batgirl drops to a squat and raises her cowl to protect herself from shards of glass hurling in all directions. Wheezing hard and fast to fill her lungs and clear her head as quickly as possible, Batgirl readies herself for another go at Clayface. And then she spots the large bulge in Dante Reardon’s jacket pocket. She scurries over, reaches into the defenseless man’s sports jacket and pulls out a purple velvet bag that holds the Brimstone Diamond.
"Yes! Score one for the good guys. Now to get out of here," Batgirl grins.
Nearby, the huge Man of Muck smashes his hands once again into the depths of the display case and rips through the ancient parchment scrolls and the mahogany wood support frame like a baggie full of crackers. Splinters, torn parchment and fresh sawdust create a large spreading beige cloud that Clayface strides through with grim determination, stalking Batgirl.
Mostly recovered, the athletic figure has just darted off toward one of the wall sconces that she intends to use as a handhold to launch herself onto a taller display case and survey her escape scenarios
Leaping halfway up the wall, Batgirl grabs hold of the wall-mounted lamp and pushes off hard, flying through mid-air with her back arched and her hands spread-eagled ready to grab the top of the tall case housing a priceless green and gold death mask of a long-gone pharaoh. She will hoist herself out of danger for a breather and a place to reconnoiter the area. She never makes it to the top of the case. Yet again, while in mid-flight, harsh buzzing once more fills her head and disrupts her balance to such a degree that Batgirl feels a wave of nausea sweep through her.
Inadvertently lowering her head in a dizzy swoon, Batgirl completely misses grabbing the top of the display case. Her hands slide along the adjoining sides of the corner of the case and she crashes head-first into the steel support frame. The top of Batgirl’s head strikes the steel upright and only the Kevlar in her cowl stops her from receiving a fatal gash there. Nevertheless, the red-headed gymnast is knocked completely senseless and takes one of the worst falls of her professional career. Her head recoils away and her eyes roll up into her head until nothing but white shows as the inert heroine bounces off the case and lands in a devastating jumble of arms and legs on the hardwood floor. Batgirl’s sprawls on her back with her left arm twisted underneath her. Her ass is raised up in the air and her legs are spread over her head, her knees touching the hard oak. The beautiful face of the Mistress of the Night, her left cheek flush against the floor, is slack and pale, her breathing shallow and slow. Blood slides down out of the corner of her mouth from badly biting her tongue as she hit the glass case. She’s very lucky the glass didn’t break and shear her skin like razors. As it is, Batgirl still has a small concussion and is limp and unresponsive as Clayface walks up to the twisted wreckage of her beautiful gray and yellow clad body.
“You dumb cunt. You never figured out that I put a little bit of myself in your ears when I first covered your head.” Clayface reaches down and the tiniest drizzle of brown ooze slips out of Batgirl’s right ear and slides onto Clayface’s waiting palm. He repeats the process with her other ear.
“You of all people should know how the inner ear controls your balance and sense of vertigo, you pathetic bimbo. I had you in my sights the second you walked onto this floor, Batgirl. I took away the main thing you’re good at and turned you into a pathetic, bumbling loser. You’re lucky I didn’t make you puke your guts out right from the start. I could have. But I have to admit, this was a lot more fun,” Clayface wide mouth spreads into a huge smile. “And now it’s time for even more fun. Okay, boys, come on over. Bat bitch here is toast!”
When Batgirl comes back to the watery realm of unconsciousness, she feels hands all over her. From the chill she feels, she concludes that someone has sliced open her costume from her neck to her crotch, revealing her see-through black mesh bra and panties. Her arms and legs are stretched wide apart, bound to the legs of a display case she surmises by the feel of cool glass against her back through yet another tear in her costume. Continuous coils of what feels like thick cotton rope keep her efficiently spreadeagled in place. Her head dangles over the back edge of the table. Wiggling her toes, Batgirl realizes that her boots have been removed and she is wearing only thin black knee high hose.
Opening her eyes, the groggy Mistress of the Night sees Dante Reardon standing behind her, looming over her head. His hands are on her breasts, fondling them slowly inside and outside the fine black mesh bra. His penis is out lying right next to her right cheek.
“Hello, sunshine. Perfect timing. Glad you could join us for the festivities,” Clayface says from in front of her. That just left Jo-Jo. Batgirl was sure he wouldn’t miss this party. Maybe he was off somewhere getting streamers and party hats. Right.
“...don’t s’pose....i..can talk you out of this....”
“Wouldn’t bother if I were you. It’s happening right now, sweetcheeks.”
With only that much warning, Batgirl feels her tight nylon mesh panties pulled off her hips until they tightly stretch around her widely-spread thighs. Cool air surrounds her neat mound of curly red pubic hair. Then cool wet fingers pull apart her exposed labia and a cold probe is pushed between her nether lips. It is thin and long and easily slides deep into her vagina, not even touching its walls.
“Taking readings of some kind, Lord High Mucky Muck?” Batgirl tries a flashy show of bravado to bolster her self-confidence which is nowhere near what she’s portraying.
“Just relax and accept what’s happening, red. You can’t do anything about it anyway, little lady,” Clayface purrs from in front of her. She can feel his big cold slippery hands move onto her hips. And then a second probe slyly slips into her anus. Even thinner and more greasy than the one in her vagina, this probe centers within her rear and slowly moves forward.
“You realize when I get out of this, you three won’t see actual sunlight until you’re crusty and o..oh...OOOHHHHH!”
Within Batgirl, the probes suddenly expand into large fat rods of cold slimy mud. And they both begin to move back and forth. Rapidly.
“Surprise, Batgirl. Not probes, just what passes for my dicks. Except now that they’re deep inside you, I made ‘em nice and fat. Plural. I made two of them. Just for you. Like ‘em?”
The famous red-headed heroine is speechless. The dual fat hard slippery cocks are thrusting in and out of her pussy and rear at surreal speed. Not to mention some sort of flipping lip-like flap that is twittering away at her clit. In under twenty seconds, the famous Mistress of the Night is wet and delirious with sexual pleasure. Her thighs quiver and jerk against the cool glass case. Her toes curl and uncurl within her sheer hose in pure delight. Batgirl licks her lips and asks breathily, “Ohhh....what....do...you...want...from me...?”
Clayface leans forward, his drippy brown face mere inches from her own. His smile beaming as he savors the feeling of his double cocks plowing in and out of his helpless captive.
“We want everything you have to give, Batgirl. Every treasure you got! But for starters, Mr. Reardon here would like you to suck his cock. I’m just here to make sure you don’t mind doing that. You don’t mind doing that do you, sweetheart? Cause if you do, you know, these penises of mine can just as easily turn into very sharp spears. That would fuck up your insides for good.”
“Aaahh...no....duuhn’t...mind....” Batgirl slurs. The overwhelming pleasure, her evaporating willpower and the cold reasoned fear of the truth behind Clayface’s statements ensure Batgirl’s complete submission to the request. She opens her mouth and Dante Reardon quickly puts his cock into it. It lays on her tongue for just a moment before she begins sucking on it compliantly. The full fat member fills her mouth and sends an erotic thrill down her spine even as Clayface manipulates her clit and both orifices with masterful precision. In and out. Thrust and withdraw. Up and down. Deep and shallow. Dante meanwhile continues to fondle her breasts, squeeze one nipples while he rolls the other one rapidly between his thumb and forefinger. It all comes together in the center of Batgirl’s brain with unrelenting repetitiveness that fills her with mindless joy. She slurps on Dante’s cock, gobbling it deep. Thrilling to the heady sensation of all her orifices filled to the brim, her breasts fondled with surprising skill that makes her head swim.
With no hands to work with and only her throat and lips and tongue, Batgirl still manages to work Dante’s cock with skill and finesse; sucking, licking and curling her tongue all around the slick penis as she is pleasured like never before.
But he can’t match her finesse with his own. Driven to a frenzy of lust by her cheeks sucking powerful draws on the length of his penis, Dante grabs Batgirl’s cowl by its pointed ears and begins thrusting his hips back and forth, in and out of the heroine’s face at a frenetic pace. She opens her throat and spreads her mouth as wide as possible to handle the engorged prick, but there’s still friction there as the rod passes in and out of her mouth over and over.
Batgirl’s brain is in full overload from Clayface’s dual penises thrusting in and out of her vagina and ass with relentless repetition. Along with her breasts being delightfully manhandled and the slippery flipping flap of skin Clayface has got vibrating like a tuning fork against her clit, it’s far too much for the delirious red-headed heroine to bear.
“Ehhmmmm” she moans. “Muummm...ummmmh....ehhhhh.....EEEEEEE!!......” Her ecstatic orgasmic whining throughout her mouth and throat pushes Dante over the edge as well. He can’t handle the pleasure one second longer. He grabs the back of Batgirl’s dark cowled head even as his body freezes in place. The famous Batgirl’s famous white face is pushed tightly into the gang leader’s groin, his wiry black pubic hair jutting up her nostrils while her eyes are rolled up into her head in orgasmic joy. Reardon’s thick cock suddenly erupts with a river of cum in the redhead’s soft mouth. It rushes down her gaping throat into her stomach. Then a second heavy spurt of this white cum fills her mouth with such force and volume that thick beads of it splurge out from its corners. Pulling his dick out of her mouth, Dante shoots smaller third and fourth jets of jism all over Batgirl’s face and chest. It runs in rivulets down her cleavage and smears across the black mesh of her bra.
“That’s how a real heroine should look,” says Clayface with a long, taunting laugh. His huge form continues to lean against her bound and splayed body but the Man of Muck has stopped thrusting his hips for now.
“...absolutely....” mumbles a crookedly-smiling, dizzily satisfied Dante Reardon, his first goal accomplished for the evening.
Batgirl’s head drops weakly sideways onto the surface of the case and a thick glob of semen drains out of the dazed beauty’s lips onto the glass display case top. Her eyes flutter in the aftermath of her pleasure. A moan escapes her lips.
Reardon backs away from the display case, putting a foot or so between himself and the dazed heroine bound across its top as he puts his dick back in his pants. After his breathing slows down after half a minute, the smug gang leader says. “Well, what do you say we take a look under the mask and see exactly it is who we’re fucking this evening,”
“....nuhhhhh....dun’t....pleazzze....dun’t.....” Batgirl mutters in breathless fear. Defeat, rape and my secret identity too! Oh noohhh! Helpless to prevent it, she feels her mask pulled upward. The cool air surrounds her now exposed face.
“Hey! I know this bitch!” Clayface announces with delight. “She’s Barbara Gordon, the police commissioner’s daughter. I seen her picture in a paper. Somethin’ about a charity dance or other bullshit function that only rich people get invited to. She works at Gotham Library, I remember.”
“Hey, Dante,” Jo-Jo chuckles deeply, “you just spunked all over the police commissioner’s daughter. He ain’t gonna like that.”
“Maybe not, but his whore of a daughter sure did,” Reardon replies. “Didn’t you, Babs?”
“Don’t lie to me, Bat bitch. I felt you climax through my prick. You loved having all three holes stuffed to the max! Don’t try to deny it.”
“....wasn’t you....Reardon....” murmurs Barbara softly. “...anybody.... would...have...felt that...way...with all that....going on...”
“Well, I’m glad you liked the sensation, Batgirl,” Clayface growls, “...‘cause we’re goin’ around again.”
“Yeah, it’s my turn now!” Jo-Jo says “Your ass is mine, Bat broad!”
“No! You’re too big,” Batgirl whimpers loudly. “You’ll split me in two!”
“Nah,” Jo-Jo responds quickly as he steps up to the table and Clayface pulls out of the draped heroine with a small sucking pop noise. “Give yourself more credit, Batgirl. You’re ass is plenty wide enough. It just has to be encouraged. I done smaller girls than you.”
“...please no...” whines Barbara. “...I’ll suck you or fuck you. Any way you want. Really. Just don’t sodomize me...I’ve never....HHUUUNFFFF!” A stiff straight punch to her gut from Jo-Jo’s rock hard fist blasts all the air out of the stunned beauty. She writhes in gasping anguish on the table while the cords surrounding her arms and legs are quickly untied and uncoiled by Reardon and Clayface. That done, Jo-Jo lifts the wheezing heroine up until she’s swaying groggily on the display case with her legs dangling down trying desperately to catch her breath.
With one big gentle hand brushing away the dangling swirl of red hair drooping over her drawn and pained face, Jo-Jo waits for half a minute before he asks,” Feeling a little better now?’
“...a....little....” wheezes Batgirl, who looks up past the big caressing paw into the cold brown eyes looking down at her.
“That’s what I thought,” Jo-Jo says quietly. And his caressing hand grabs a fistful of red hair and yanks her head back harshly. His other hand drives a second smashing blow into Batgirl’s abdomen
The shocked crimefighter collapses forward over the fist and then feels herself dragged off the display case on the hard oak floor. Her knees hit first and she sprawls head over heels until she’s flat on her back, her knees in the air, her black mesh panties still stretched between her thighs.
“...HEEEZZZZ...HEEEZZZZ....HEEEZZZZ.” Batgirl wheezes loudly, her lungs screaming for oxygen as she lies on the museum floor, dizzy with nausea, totally exposed to attack.
“Don’t like surprise attacks, do you, cunt?” Jo-Jo’s spittle from a face that’s bent over her a mere five inches away sprays into the gasping redhead’s face. “Well neither do I. So it sucks to be you right now!”
The big powerful brute grabs Batgirl’s panties and strips them off her in seconds. He then takes both her ankles in his meaty palms and flips the defenseless, groggy heroine onto her stomach.
Finally, with at least some oxygen back in her lungs, a frantic Batgirl puts both palms on the floor to try to push off and achieve some kind of fighting stance. Before she can push even a foot away from the floor, Jo-Jo’s hand grasps the dark cowl, coils it around his fist with a twist and slams Batgirl’s forehead against the hard oak flooring.
“DHUUGGH...” The famous cowled beauty’s elbows turn to jelly as her eyes fill with blinding sparkles and she collapses onto the floor in a confused, drooling daze.
“Don’t even think about crawling off before I’m done buttfucking you, Batgirl. I earned this and I’m taking it! Clayface, can you get in position like we planned, please.”
“Happy to help, Jo-Jo,” grins the large Man of Muck. Sliding beneath the senseless redhead, Clayface is on his back, making himself paper thin in order to get between the limp athletic figure of the drooling Batgirl and the floor. This accomplished, he begins to thicken up again. Once again, a befuddled and helpless Batgirl feels the thin probe that is Clayface’s prick slide effortlessly into her exposed pussy.
“....uuuuggghhhhhh....” moaning from the pain of her bleeding knees, her throbbing head and the nausea of her mild concussion, Batgirl is incapable of putting up any resistance. She looks down at Clayface with unfocused, blank green eyes as he takes her cheeks in his palms and pulls her face down to his. His large mouth opens and three thin waving brown tendrils seek out her own drooling mouth. His lips seal against hers and the tendrils go to work, entwining her tongue, massaging it, playing with it in erotic ways that have Batgirl’s eyes widen in surprise and pleasure. And then the muddy hard cock in her loins engorges even larger than before and begins to thrum and vibrate with her filled pussy in a way that draws Batgirl back to a heady consciousness that dazzles the muddled beauty with a wave of unexpected pleasure. Then, yet once more, the flittering, flapping caressing lips at her clitoris start their intense massage of her most sensitive spot of erotic joy and Batgirl’s body responds with a shudder of helpless delight. Beneath her, Clayface’s hands surround the soft pendulous tits and gently ply them, tickle her nipples and encompass her bobbling breasts with soft, succulent, undivided attention.
Behind her, Jo-Jo spits on his hand, smooths it over his stiff prick and then slowly separates Batgirl’s buttocks with his powerful palms.
“...eemmmphhhhh....” Clayfaces twisting tongues pull a pleasured moan from the captured mouth of the Mistress of the Night. And Jo-Jo’s spit-lathered penis presses between Batgirl’s pulled open cheeks and prods heavily against the ring of her exposed anus.With her body being satisfied in every imaginable way, the dazed and drifting mind of the keen, intelligent heroine is battered with pleasure that stupifies her completely. All orifices are wet, all are eager, all are being filled to their utmost.
Clayface’s massive thick, slippery penis plunges in and out of her vagina with a steady rhythm that’s impossible to block out. Jo-Jo’s large, thick member also drives deeply into Batgirl’s trembling, excited body, filling her rear end again and again and again with heat and pressure and friction.
“Mmmhhhh!” Her pleasured body accepts him as easily as he knew it would. No woman could withstand all the attention that Clayface’s appendages are paying to her. All the thrusting, and flittering and rubbing and tweaking was far too much arousal to try to ignore. One had to give in to it. Completely. And the feel of Jo-Jo’s member thrusting deeply within her rear is yet another new delight that Batgirl cannot resist. Blinded by lust, the sagging, murmuring figure immerses herself in the myriad pleasures battering at her senses. Her mouth is numb with pleasure, her eyes unseeing. Her knees tremble against the wood floor as Jo-Jo’s hips slap against her buttocks in constant heavy thrusts that take her breath away. Between her loins, nothing but ecstacy exists. And once more, now stretched out on the museum floor in helpless ecstacy, Batgirl lets out a keening wail of orgasmic pleasure from her fully-filled mouth even as her body quivers and shakes in an absolute blinding climax that shakes her from her head to her curling toes.
Her spasming, ecstatic body pulls and twists at Jo-Jo’s rock hard cock. The plunging and withdrawing rod responds to the tight, jerking anal passage around it with its ultimate purpose, sending thick ropey streams of viscous cum into Batgirl’s pumping, twisting rear end.
“GUUHHNNNN!” Jo-Jo’s face is drawn tight in a grimace of pure pleasure as his palms pull on Batgirl’s thighs and pull her body closer to him, feeling the heat of her inner cavity spasm as he fills her with his seed.
“....ehhhhnnnnn....” The over-pleasured beauty slumps breathlessly in place, held aloft by Clayface’s and Jo-Jo’s arms in limp, dazed bewilderment.
“This....bitch...sure knows how.....to have a good time....” mutters Jo-Jo as he leans over and hugs Batgirl’s waist, milking the last of his erection in the tight cavity as his dick quivers in its last throes of delight. All three rest in place in delighted exhaustion as Dante Reardon looks on with envy, anxious to have his turn once again at the beautiful redhead.
Finally Jo-Jo pulls out, slowly withdrawing his huge member from the limp heroine’s ass with a soft plop of resistance. A thick stream of white cum drains out of the supine beauty’s ass as he does, spreading slowly over her engorged pussy lips and down her inner thighs until it drips onto the wood floor beneath Batgirl. The once-magnificent lithe red-headed beauty is now a study in heroic debasement, her precious treasure defiled and draining semen, her eyes milky and confused with erotic pleasure, her pretty smile now a leer of lusty satisfaction that confirms the deeply soiled innocence of her prim and righteous character.
The good times continue repeatedly throughout the small wee hours of the morning. Over and over again the famous Mistress of the Night is raped, abused and forced to please the seemingly tireless threesome in ways that both delight and disgust her.
At one point, it’s a threesome with Clayface’s hard brown mucky dick filling her mouth while Jo-Jo fills her pussy with his cock from above while Dante lies beneath her, plowing her ass while he grips her tits and pumps away with eager abandon.
Another time, Dante enjoys the beleaguered and bewildered heroine alone, spreading her legs wide apart over her head until her knees touch her ears while he buries himself in her silken treasures over and over until the cum fills her with warmth and then slowly drains out of her wet, weary pussy.
At 4:45 a.m., the party is finally over. Batgirl’s famous uniform is torn and ragged. Her breasts are exposed through the tattered strips of Kevlar ripped asunder by the very edge of her own titanium Batarang. The unconscious beauty is absolutely covered in white sticky cum and dark brown stains from her face to her calves. The abuse that the three criminals who have had their way with the comely champion in every way imaginable is clearly evident. Her humiliation is absolute.
At 5:15 a.m., the morning shift of the museum walks through the front door of the museum laughing and joking as they carry their morning coffee. As they unlock the door and push into the lobby of the museum, they are stunned to see a limp body hanging from the ceiling in the main entryway. It is Batgirl! And she’s in the remaining tatters of her costume, hanging unconscious in her own thin steel cable harness. Her breasts poke through the flapping strips of leather and kevlar, clearly bruised for all to see. Her vagina oozes with thin white cum, her thighs sticky with large brown stains. And around her neck there is a crudely hand-lettered sign that simply says
PROPERTY OF DANTE REARDON. KINDLY RETURN TO OWNER AFTER ABUSE!!
Back in his hideout, Dante is savoring a scotch and a cigar. He looks over at a Jo-Jo who’s enjoying the same.
“You know, Jo-Jo. I think I should pay a visit to the Gotham library and see if Miss Gordon couldn’t help me find a book I need. “The Care and Feeding of Bats.”
And the gang leader tilts his head back and laughs for a good long time.