Crime’s Next Generation

The Joker sang: "Hi, ho! Hi, ho! It’s off to work we go!" Instead of whistling, he laughed in tune with the classic Disney ditty as guards brought to guard him and his fellow prisoners cast dark glances his way. Of course, the attention only made him laugh more, but not in tune.

"Why don’t you shut up and do some work?" Chickadee demanded. The Bronx-born brunette was shackled to the Clown Prince of Crime’s leg.

"What?! I’m no productive citizen," Joker protested with yet another laugh. "Besides, I love watching you bend over to pick up trash." He pointed at an example close to her foot. "Hey! There’s a piece. Do it again."

"Do you know what I’d like to do to you?" she asked ominously.

"Sure," Joker replied blithely. "But tell me anyway. I get so excited." Her face turned red while he laughed. "You know," he went on mercilessly, "you really do look beautiful when you’re mad."

Chickadee became exponentially more lovely as their conversation continued.

The notorious Clown Prince of Crime, a very noticeable figure in his own right, was just part of the reason the morning traffic slowed to a bare crawl along the stretch of road they were working. Chickadee was only one petite, yet pretty, part of what might have been the main reason for the gawking and wolf whistles which seemed, for the most part, to entertain the prisoners and annoy their guards.

Warden Crichton had recently begun this penologically progressive program of prisoner performed public penitence. Today, he volunteered his charges for roadside beautification in the hopes of eventually growing them into more service-minded, more productive citizens. Unintentionally, however, the policy seemed primarily to provide passing traffic with an unusual, yet eye-catching spectacle, of which Chickadee was a well-proportioned part.

Appropriately, the work crew was also constantly being assailed by catcalls, complimenting the pulchritudinous criminal princess whose presence punctuated the panorama of largely voluptuous villainy, The Catwoman.

An approaching van drew only casual attention until it pulled to a stop beside the road. One guard approached cautiously. "Can I help you ladies?" he asked as he halted two paces from the passenger door, glancing inside and smiling pleasantly at the visions seated inside.

To the guard’s delight, the sunroof opened and a woman with honey blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail fastened with a pale blue ribbon stood. She regarded the guard admiring her impressive upper body and rewarded him with a winning smile. "As a matter of fact you can, handsome," the young woman said. As the guard stared, entranced, she raised her arms to bring a machine gun into view. She let her hands caress the weapon as the business end turned to cover her admirer. "Stick ‘em up!" she ordered.

"Who are you?" the guard asked hesitantly.

"For you information, my name is Parker, Legs Parker. Now, I told you to raise your hands. So, do it!"

The guard hesitated. Legs cleared her throat, prompting the van doors to open, revealing three other blondes and a brunette driver. The women in the van smiled, aiming their own machine guns at the guard. He wisely raised his arms and kept his open hands in sight.

"Guards!" Joker shouted, laughing and moderating his tone. "I’d like you to meet Legs Parker and the rest of my new staff. Now, check out those typewriters. Are those girls equipped or what?" The Harlequin of Hate treated everyone to a laugh exuding genuine humor. He turned to take command of the vehicle in which he intended to escape, but stopped suddenly, as recognition dawned upon him. He observed a tall, statuesque blonde seated in the van wearing a white pair of slacks molded as tightly and artistically to her lower body as her half top was molded to her chest. Joker laughed and extended his arms to greet his old henchwoman. "Hey! Undine!" he cried jubilantly.

"Joker!" Undine responded, exchanging her gun for a pair of sacks and sliding from the van.

She raced to the Jesting Jackanapes and hurled herself into his arms. "Get me out of these leg irons," Joker ordered when their embrace concluded.

"Sure thing, Joker," she said, moving to the hapless guard and dropping his valuables into one of her sacks with professional efficiency. She slipped his gun into her waistband at the small of her back and used his keys to free her old boss.

"Baby," the villain said, "you’re the greatest." A moment later, he took his former beach babe in his arms again.

Many of the prisoners enjoyed the show, as Undine handed the keys to Chickadee. The Bronx bimbo freed herself and took the guard’s stolen gun. Once Catwoman, who had been shackled to Chickadee’s other ankle, took the keys, Chickadee began to hold up the remaining guards, filling one of the fallen sacks with their valuables and the other with their weapons. Once finished, she returned to the involved couple.

"Thanks for all the help," Chickadee said, clearing her throat.

"Wanna take a ride?" Undine asked, disengaging herself.

"Sure. There’s one thing I need to do first."

"Hurry."

"No problem." Chickadee handed the bag of loot to Undine and caught Legs Parker’s eye. Chickadee glanced at Joker questioningly and saw the woman shake her head, which was still sticking out of the top of the van. Chickadee nodded, grinned, added her gun to the others in the weapon filled bag, and gripped it with both hands. "Joker," she said softly, swinging it hard at the Clown Prince of Crime. .As the Mad Mountebank of Mockery turned, Chickadee’s heavy bag connected audibly. "I’m all set. Let’s go," she said with a laugh as the villain crumpled.

"What did you do that for?"

"He insulted me. Now, relax. I could have always have shot him, you know."

"True."

"Nice going, girls," Catwoman complimented. "I never could stand his green hair. Do you have room for one more?"

Legs regarded the tall, blonde villainess.

"Boss," the driver said, "she’ll fit in with your gang better than Joker would have."

"Is that you, Eenie?" Catwoman asked.

"Yes, Catwoman." Eenie’s former mistress apparently still influenced her. She wore a pair of gold pants and a leopard spotted gold pullover.

“To you, it’s still Boss," the feline felon told her old henchkitten.

"Catwoman," Legs Parker said, lowering her gun. "With all due respect, my gang and I are involved in a carefully planned venture today. I’d love to give you a lift, but we haven’t the time. Besides, if you can’t get a ride from some guy driving past, there are no real men left in Gotham City. Wouldn’t that be a shame?"

Chickadee and Undine stepped into the van, suppressing laughter.

"Can I look you up?" Eenie asked.

"Purrhaps. I’ll be at the most deeply catacombed of my lairs." Catwoman had noticed another of Legs Parker’s companions whom she had previously employed. "Vixen knows where it is. Don’t you?"

"Sure. I can find it." The curly haired blonde said. She wore a red leather skirt with matching, thigh-high boots and the deep v-neck of her black, silk blouse showcased her upper body to good advantage. "It’s good to see you again., Boss.”

"Likewise," Catwoman purred.

"Hey!" another liberated prisoner called. "What about the rest of us?"

"Hey! Be glad we cut you loose," Legs Parker called back. "Now, you’re on your own. Bye bye." She lowered herself into a sitting position behind the closing van doors. "Let’s go, Eenie," she ordered. The brunette driver pulled away seconds later.

Traffic had begun to move more quickly as the well-armed, leggy criminal and her gang had all disappeared back inside the vehicle. Legs had just overseen the greatest jailbreak since the one orchestrated by Nora Clavicle and Bane. Motorists likely appreciated neither the magnitude of the crime taking place before their eyes, nor how well armed the young gang pulling it off really were. For Legs Parker, it was important for the public to know she had been in charge.

Catwoman quickly took charge of the escapees. She ordered them to retrieve car keys from the small army of formerly well-armed, shackled overseers who had been assigned to watch over them. The Feline Felon then selected a henchman to drive her away in a police car.

Catwoman and Joker were the only arch-criminals among the day’s work detail. Most of the remaining prisoners roared away from the roadside work area in stolen police vehicles. One African-American female, however, slipped away, alone and unnoticed, into the nearby woods. The still-unconscious Joker remained behind, being left to his own devices.

Shortly thereafter, Frank Nitty Gritty returned to the card table with drinks. He handed a tall glass of iced lemonade to his partner, Little Al. "Ready to try it again?" he asked.

"Sure. Why not?" Little Al said, gathering cards and rifling through them theatrically.

"Ladies first," Black Widow protested. "Show Mrs. Parker, my partner and the reason we are winning, the respect she deserves."

"You’re always so kind, Mrs. Black," Mrs. Parker said.

"Hey, just because we’re all retired gangsters here at the Old Criminals’ Home doesn’t mean we can’t have a little class," Mr. Nitty Gritty said.

"Some of us always had class," Little Al said, dealing cards.

"Okay, whose bet is it?" Mr. Nitty Gritty asked.

"Mine, you handsome devil," Black Widow told him before she bet, added funds to the pile in the center of the table, and sipped her lemonade.

Mr. Nitty Gritty glanced at his cards and bet, building the kitty.

"Hey! It’s Legs," Little Al said delightedly.

"Mrs. Parker’s lovely daughter is here," Mr. Nitty Gritty responded enthusiastically.

Everyone turned toward the young woman who had quietly entered the room.

"Hi, Honey," Mrs. Parker said, standing up. The two women hugged.

"You lucky men," Black Widow said. "She brought some of her friends."

Legs Parker was indeed accompanied by a trio of temptresses. Their leader had slid her namesake into a pair of belted blue denim shorts, with a red and white patterned work shirt tucked into them. She had pulled the ribbon from her hair and let it cascade magnificently over her shoulders. On either side of her, Undine and Vixen were still dressed as they had been at the jailbreak. Standing just behind them wheeling a golf bag, Chickadee had changed from her prison stripes to a short white jacket she wore over a red, long-sleeved, one piece garment which resembled a heart plunging from her breasts across her abdomen and waist to terminate between her legs. White lace fringe at the end of each sleeve. along the bustline, and at the leg holes drew attention to the perfection of her hourglass figure. She had slid her legs into a pair of fishnet hose which put them on display nicely. The four young women regarded the old folks and grinned. They knew they were being admired. They liked it.

"So, Legs, darling, why did you and your lovely friends come to visit your Ma and her old friends without letting us know first?" the Black Widow asked. "I know the boys would have gotten all dolled up for you and been just exquisitely gorgeous."

"Well," Legs said. "I came for two reasons. First I want to formally announce I am a mother now myself."

"Congratulations!" Mr. Nitty Gritty said.

"Oh, Legs. I’m so happy for you," Mrs. Parker said, hugging her again.

"Well, that makes you the new Ma Parker," Little Al observed, smiling.

"And my partner would then be Grandma Parker," Black Widow remarked happily. "Isn’t that lovely?"

"I think so, Black Widow. That brings me to my second item. I’m busting my mom out of here so she can help with the baby. Come on, Grandma. We’re leaving," Legs said.

Grandma Parker moved to join her daughter, but was stopped by Black Widow’s pleading voice.

"Take me with you, darling."

"That would be great!" Grandma Parker enthused. "Mrs. Black is a criminal mastermind from the old school. She could be a tremendous help."

"That old bag?" Chickadee asked dubiously.

"I think spiders are creepy," Undine objected.

"I’m sorry, Mrs. Black," Legs said, favoring the senior citizen super-criminal with a dazzling smile, "I’m going to put my family back in control of Gotham City’s underworld. While I have the greatest respect for you personally, I don’t really see you as part of the new beginning I have planned." She gently drew her mother among her friends.

"I understand, dear," Black Widow said, slipping her hand into a knitting bag beside her chair. "Once I teach your young friends to respect their elders, I’m certain you’ll change your mind."

"Look out!" Vixen warned.

Chickadee quickly begun to extract machine guns from the golf bag and distribute them.

"What’s the problem, Vixen?" Legs asked.

"She could be pulling out some of her paralyzing spider venom or her little brain short circuiting machine," Vixen responded.

"I told you spiders were creepy," Undine said.

"Girls, cover them," Legs ordered.

The quartet of young criminals aimed the weapons at the old gangsters and drew back the bolts. They gestured with the guns to indicate the gangsters should raise their hands. Everyone did. Black Widow decided to go on living, clearly showing her hand was empty as it emerged from the bag.

"What did we do?" Mr. Nitty Gritty protested.

"Nothing, Frank," Chickadee said. "And we want to keep it that way."

"How did you know about my weapons, young lady?" Black Widow asked Vixen.

"Your nephew, Archie Arcane, told me about them one night. He whispered all the details in my ear, trying to impress me."

"A woman like you would impress him," Black Widow said disapprovingly.

"Oh, I was impressed, by the generosity of the gratuity he left me. I’m sure your late husband, Max, would understand."

"Why you little——"

"That’s enough!" Legs said, stepping between the woman. "Sit down, Mrs. Black. Little Al, would you move her bag over there and dump it out, please." The old folks hesitated. "I mean it! And I won’t ask again!"

Everyone remained still for a moment before Legs gestured with her gun to compel her elders to obey. "Thank you," she said, releasing a breath she had not realized she was holding. Her eyes lit up when she noticed the greenbacks among the weapons Little Al had spilled from Black Widow’s bag.

Legs then organized she, her mother, and her armed escorts’ escape. "Right. I don’t want any of you to even try to follow us. If they do, let them have it." She touched Vixen on the shoulder, signaling her to clear the hall.

Legs then passed her mother the machine gun she had been using.

"Ready, Mom?"

"Yes. And congratulations."

"Good. I have just one more little chore." She stepped to the golf bag and extracted an empty sack. "Undine, cover our elders while I get their money."

"You got it, Boss."

"What do you think you’re doing, young lady?" Little Al demanded.

"What I have to in order to support my struggling family."

"Show some respect.”

"She is, old man," Undine told him. "She hasn’t told me to blow you away." The white-clad blonde stepped forward and pressed her weapon into his neck. "At least, not yet." Little Al gave Legs his money.

"This is just like old times," Mr. Nitty Gritty remarked, doing likewise.

"Shut up, Frank," Black Widow ordered crossly as Ma Parker gathered the cash spilled from her bag.

"I’d have won it all eventually anyway," Grandma Parker said, unsuccessfully trying to console her colleagues as she scooped up the kitty from the table.

"It’s beautiful," Legs said. Grandma Parker poured the proceeds of her labor into her daughter’s bag. Legs waved to the retired gangsters. "Thank you all for everything . Let’s go." Her armed escorts followed her into the hall as she rejoined Vixen.

"I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Modern criminals just ain’t genteel," Little Al mused philosophically once they had gone.

The women made their way to the office, where a baby-faced blonde bombshell held another machine gun on an understandably nervous orderly. His attention was divided almost equally by her gun and the body seemingly poured into her purple body-suit. The ravishing revelation of the woman’s fabulous figure was augmented by a see-through lavender cape clipped to her neck and elbows. .He was relived to see her step to a nearby table and put her gun away into an open violin case.

"What’s the situation?" Grandma Parker asked.

"Thanks, Mom. I’ll handle this," Legs, the new Ma Parker said. "Well, Moth, what’s the situation?"

"I had this twerp set up the gizmo just like you told me, Boss," Moth answered. "He got all righteous on me and refused at first." She gestured at the orderly. "But, I persuaded him. Didn’t I?"

"With all due respect, Ma’am," the frightened orderly said, "you threatened me."

"Of course I did," Moth said sweetly, as though such an event should be commonplace.

"Will it work?" Ma Parker asked.

"Handsome here better hope it does," the blonde in the body suit said, "because if it doesn’t, he’ll be hit with four times the lead I would have blasted in to him and be dead even faster!"

"Hit it," Ma Parker interrupted.

Vixen pulled a tiny transmitter from a pocket of the golf bag and pressed a button on it. Purple bolts of electricity surged over the PBX system.

"I know you told me this," Moth said, "but, what did that thing do again?"

"It jammed up the phone system to keep our operation from being reported," Vixen explained.

"Additionally," Ma Parker interjected, "We’ll fill anyone who tries to follow us full of lead!"

"Right," Moth agreed. She leaned forward so her lips were a mere inch from the orderly’s ear. "Despite this, I don’t want you to forget what I said I would do to you if you even try to have us followed. Nod if you understand." The man only quivered. "Nod!" she shouted. Her victim nodded and went on quivering.

"Are we finished here?" Undine asked.

"Maybe," Moth said. "Do any of the rest of you think he is at all cute?"

"A little," Undine admitted.

"Kinda," Chickadee agreed.

"Yeah," Vixen said. "The question is, will he live long enough for his good looks to benefit our gender?"

"The answer is yes," Moth announced. The endowed evildoer extracted an aerosol can, bent, and sprayed the orderly’s feet and the floor around them liberally. "There. That ought to hold you," she said with a triumphant laugh.

"Don’t aerosol cans harm the environment?" the orderly asked hesitantly.

"Why does everyone say that?" Moth asked.

"It happens to be true!" the orderly said, courageously trying to step toward his attacker. He discovered he was stuck in place. "I can’t move my feet! What was that stuff?"

"Doctor Riddler’s Instant Forever Stick Invisible Wax Emulsion, a little present from my old boss. Come on, girls. Our friend here will be sticking around for awhile. I hope you don’t mind, Boss. He’s just too cute to kill."

"Nice work, Moth," the second coming of Ma Parker complimented. “Shall we go?" The young gang leader paused in the office door and glanced at Moth’s victim. "Bye, handsome. Moth is right about you."

Eenie started the van as the sweet looking sextet emerged from the building. Undine opened the side door and Chickadee helped Grandma Parker inside. The rest were inside a moment later, waiting as Ma Parker dashed across the parking lot while security scrambled to their cars. The getaway van pulled away from the curb, accelerating.

"I warned them," Legs said, moving to open the rear doors.

"Don’t, Boss," the driver said. "If you open up on them, you’ll upset the baby. Besides, I made sure they wouldn’t follow us any time soon."

"What do you mean, Eenie?"

"Watch," the driver purred.

The cruisers’ engines turned over and the cars lurched forward. Then, all their tires blew out simultaneously!

"Put the guns away, girls," Ma Parker II ordered with a laugh. "Now, what did you do to them?"

"I slid a Kitty Claw under each of their tires. We’ll be long gone before their repairs are finished."

Once they pulled away, laughter echoed through the van - until an infantile cry interrupted.

"Mom," Legs said, reaching for the child and starting to sway as she continued talking, "Let me introduce you to your grandchild. I broke you out to become the primary care giver while I’m busy reestablishing our family’s criminal empire.” The baby became quiet as Legs went on rocking. "Yes. You are the future. Yes you are. And we are all going to be so rich." Ma Parker giggled happily and made the baby coo.

"What do you mean about a criminal empire, Legs?" Grandma Parker demanded. "You can’t just decide to run a criminal gang by yourself."

"I don’t plan to, Mom. The baby was only my first surprise. I have decided to get married."

"To the father?"

"I don’t know who the father is. He probably doesn’t even know he’s a father."

" In that case, I’d say you have some explaining to do, young lady!" Grandma Parker said ominously.

As the young mother’s explanation would presently prove, she had not gotten herself pregnant by getting knocked up, but by knocking over one of the most unusual banks in Gotham City.

"I was more of a lady about it than you are probably thinking. I was getting bored with the latest in a long string of dull boyfriends when I decided to have a baby. When I told the last one, he readily agreed to help and was surprised, and very disappointed, when I told him we would be robbing the wealthiest sperm bank in Gotham City," the young gangster explained with a wide, wicked grin.

"What are we doing here again, Legs?" he had asked.

"I already told you. Now, if you want to help, shut up and make yourself useful. Otherwise, get out of here and I’ll take care of it myself."

"What do you want me to do?"

"A guard will be coming around that corner in a moment. Put him out of our misery," she said pointing.

"You want me to kill him?"

"God, no! Just wait for him and hit him over the head."

"Oh, right. Okay."

Legs had peeked around the corner of the building. "Here he comes. Get him. Now!" Her man had stepped around the corner and initiated a certain amount of commotion. When Legs had taken a second look, her man was going toe to toe with the guard. She had stared heavenward and sighed. "He’s even more of an idiot than I thought. Then again, I wasn’t dating him for his mind," she muttered.

She had pulled a small device from her pocket with one gloved hand and advanced on the combatants. Deftly, she had touched the device to the guard’s back and stepped back as her boyfriend landed a blow to his jaw. The guard had fallen. Quickly, Legs had gone through the fallen man’s pockets to retrieve a number of keys, a ring, a watch, and a thin wallet.

"Your reward," she had said, turning everything but the keys over to her boyfriend.

"Thanks. Um. I had some other ideas though."

"Tell me later. Let’s move."

"Shouldn’t I tie him up?"

"If you want to. Bring him inside first, though." He had hefted their captive and waited while she unlocked the outside door.

"How did you do that?"

"I have magic fingers, too," she had lied.

"Oh, you know, I thought you were quite a sorceress last night."

"Can you open the safe?" she asked, ignoring his insinuation.

"Sure."

"Then do it. I’ll be in the big vault."

She had moved to the refrigerated vault and opened it with another key. Once inside, she had begun to examine test tubes and to decipher the manner of their arrangement. Her selection had taken fifteen minutes. Carefully, she had settled the test tube she desired in an insulated, protective case and pocketed it.

"I got it all. Legs," her companion had then announced, entering the vault behind her.

"Show me." He had handed over a pair of canvas bags with black dollar signs on them. Legs had dipped a hand in one and examined a handful of bills. "Such large, lovely denominations. Kiss me."

He had obeyed happily. As her mouth explored his, she had slid the keys taken from the guard into his pocket. Then the device she had used on the guard earlier had touched the small of his back and she took his weight. "What was that for?" he had asked, gasping.

"Someone has to take the fall for this operation, darling. I’m afraid you’re elected." Then, she had pushed him gently and let him topple. He shattered several test tubes as he fell. Legs turned away as the crash echoed.

"I’ll get your for this, Legs."

His threat had made her turn back and regard him with hands on hips. "First of all, you’ve had me! More importantly, if you do rat me out, I want you to know all of my brothers, Mad Dog; Pretty Boy; and Machine Gun, are inside. If both of us join them, I’ll say the word and they will express my displeasure for me. What’s left of you, I’m quite certain, will be easily washed away down the shower drains. I sincerely hope we understand one another! If you want to express your anger, feel free to smash everything in this vault. Oh, by the way, last night you were magnificent. So long, lover."

Legs had then picked up the money, stepped from the vault, and closed the door behind her. The lock had clicked as she departed. The bound guard had heard an engine grow softer seconds after the shattering glass and the ringing alarm had rudely returned him to awareness.

"Okay. Then, who are you going to marry?" Grandma Parker demanded.

"I haven’t decided yet."

"But you have decided to get married.”

"Oh, yes."

"Yet, you don’t know whom you plan to marry?"

"That’s right."

"Do you have suitors?"

"Well, I’ve asked each of the girls to introduce a candidate suitable as a husband and as a partner in crime."

"These gentlemen——" Grandma Parker began pointedly.

"I hope not!" her daughter interrupted. All the younger women giggled.

Grandma Parker cleared her throat. The van went silent and she continued, "These men know what you have in mind?"

"Each candidate gets the opportunity to help raise a family of criminals with his new wife, namely me."

"I see. Now, is your new husband really going to be an equal?"

"He’ll be an almost equal." She paused and considered the question and completed her answer. "Maybe." Everyone laughed at that decision. "I’ll meet my suitors this evening and we’ll begin their evaluation."

Later, Commissioner James Gordon leaned over and took a phone call from his secretary. "Yes, Bonnie." He listened. "What?" he demanded.

"What’s happened," Chief O’Hara asked.

"Ma Parker was taken from the Old Criminals’ Home. When?" Commissioner Gordon asked sharply. He listened. "This afternoon."

"Saints preserve us."

"Who?" Commissioner Gordon demanded, listening again. "I’d like any evidence gathered from the crime scene brought here." He hung up and leaned back in his chair. "The perpetrator was Ma Parker’s daughter, Legs."

"Do you think we should call in some help?" Chief O’Hara asked.

"I certainly do, Chief," Gordon said, crossing the room and uncovering the Batphone. "I don’t know who Batman is behind that mask of his. I do know he’s helped us dozens of times over. We need him again, now."

At stately Wayne Manor, Alfred, the faithful butler, responded to the call with grave news. "I’m afraid he’s abroad, sir."

Indeed, Superintendent Watson, the bulldog of Londinium’s venerable Ireland Yard, had recently been plagued by the machinations of a madwoman bent on terrorizing well-to-do American tourists. He had chanced to mention his plight to his cousin, Sir Sterling Habits of Gotham City's British Consulate. The diplomat had persuaded the detective to ask The Batman to investigate. The Dark Knight had readily agreed.

Bruce Wayne had decided to take a well-publicized vacation in England to attract the criminal. His plan had worked. The madwoman, Britannia, had led her red-coated rogues to Mr. Wayne’s suite at the Savoy Hotel, where Batman had beaten them senseless. The beautiful Brit, however, had turned the tables with a knockout gas bomb launched from the spout of a teapot they had delivered as a ruse to gain admission to the suite.

When he revived, Batman realized he had been bound to the oversized gears of a British national treasure, Big Ben. "I see your realize your time has come, Batman," Britannia said.

"Britannia, you don’t have to do this. Think back to your days as an eminent Oxford professor of British history. Surely you realize if you do this, you’ll get little peace for now or any future time."

"On the contrary, Batman. Our finest hour is at hand. Within the next sixty minutes the great gears of Big Ben will turn, grinding your magnificent body into bloody pudding. With our act we enable ourselves to pursue our royal goals of peacefully restoring our empire’s wealth for all time. You traitorous colonials stole your heritage from us through force of arms centuries ago. Know now, Batman, we shall not allow your treason to stand."

"But you have no connection to the Crown whatsoever. Please, let me help you."

"On the contrary, we are the Crown. We will not hear sedition in our presence. Winston, Oliver, it is time for us to go." The quasi-queen had turned from her victim with a laugh.

"Hail, Britannia!" her men had said, saluting simultaneously.

"Batman, fare thee well."

Back in Gotham City, Alfred had more dire news to report. "I’m afraid Robin is also unavailable."

In the hallowed lecture halls of Gotham State University, Robin, in his guise as Dick Grayson, faced perils of his own.

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Professor Lou," the class responded in unison.

"As you know, this is Intermediate Economics. Welcome back. Today, I can guarantee management knows less than you about the stock market. Next time, I’ll go back to explaining why this is not at all unusual. Right now, I need you all to open your blue books and answer a few questions using the glorious English language. Please resist, as best you can, the urge to respond in Greenspanish, the native tongue of bond ghouls."

Dick Grayson took the paper his distinguished economics guru distributed, read the essay questions about methods of quantifying and analyzing the stock market, joined the collective moan sweeping the class, and began to write.

Commissioner Gordon hung up the Batphone and turned to his lieutenant. "Chief O’Hara, we need to send Batgirl an email about this crime. Communications at the Old Criminals’ Home have been blacked out, so she won’t hear about it through the media."

Just then the phone rang again. "Yes, Bonnie?" Commissioner Gordon said.

"I’ll start writing that e-mail to Batgirl," Chief O’Hara reported as he turned the Commissioner’s monitor and keyboard around.

"What?" Gordon asked sharply after listening on the phone for a moment. "A holdup and jailbreak, you say?" He went on listening. "When?"

"More bad news?" Chief O’Hara asked.

"Who?" Commissioner Gordon asked after a pause. "Joker, Catwoman, Chickadee, and several others released this morning before Legs Parker took her mother from the Old Criminals’ Home.

O’Hara’s fingers were flying over the keyboard as he tried to piece the story together based on the half of the conversation he could hear. "I wonder what idiot let the Joker go?" he mused.

The Commissioner seemed to be pondering what O’Hara was pondering. "By whom?" the executive asked. Gordon went on listening. "Legs Parker? Keep me apprised as more details come in." He seemed stunned as he hung up the phone.

"What happened?" O’Hara asked.

"Legs Parker broke several criminals out of a chain gang this morning. The Dynamic Duo is unavailable. We may need more help than just Batgirl," Commissioner Gordon observed.

"How about calling Batwoman and Flamebird on their cell phone?"

"Good thinking, Chief. While you finish Batgirl’s e-mail, I’ll contact Batwoman."

Unfortunately, the Distaff Duo had been busy tracking a criminal gang employing illusions and magic tricks to commit crimes. Concerned Zelda the Great had resumed her evil ways and taken charge, they had anticipated the criminals' next target and waited there. When the villains arrived, the heroines attacked. Batwoman and Flamebird fought them back at first, but fell to plumes of knockout gas, apparently appearing from nowhere.

The ladies revived to find their body weight carefully distributed over a large mirror, centered on the floor of a domed chamber.

"If I were you, I wouldn’t move a muscle," their captor whispered.

"Who are you?" Batwoman demanded softly, careful not to move. Their hooded, caped captor, seemed to glide around the sides of the chamber while inspecting their predicament. The whisper and the shadow cast over the villain’s face made it impossible for the heroines to identify their enemy, or even to identify the figure’s gender.

"My name is not important, Batwoman. Besides you have bigger problems. You’ve both been arranged atop an ordinary mirror in such a way that the slightest movement by either of you will shatter it.”

"We’d noticed that," Flamebird admitted in hushed tones.

"I’m sure you have, Flamebird, but you don’t know how deep the shaft beneath you descends. Nor do you know how long you can lay perfectly still to avoid finding out." Their captor chuckled and went on. "When you do, of course, it won’t be the fall that kills you, but the sudden stop at the end. You bodies will eventually be smashed like rotten tomatoes. Regrettably, however, I am unwilling to wait for one of you to twitch."

"So you’ve made arrangements to speed up the process?" Batwoman guessed.

"Precisely." Our heroines heard two sharp claps and a light, misty spray began drifting down to envelope them from above.

"Diabolical."

"Thank you, Flamebird. The spray will not be delivered with enough force to break the mirror beneath you, but as your costumes soak through, and the puddle already forming beneath you grows, the load the mirror must bear will be inexorably increased. Soon, your combined body weight and that of the water will become too great. At that point, the mirror will buckle, break, and let you both down."

"We won’t die like this," Batwoman said.

"Not in a million years," Flamebird agreed.

"Oh, but you will. And it won’t take nearly that long. Soon, you’ll both be going down, once and forever. Goodnight, ladies." Their would-be killer chuckled again and disappeared behind a curtain, leaving them alone.

Barbara Gordon checked Batgirl’s email before lunch and warned her assistant, Myrtle, she might be back late. She hurried to her Midtown apartment, activated her spinning wall, and underwent her tantalizing transformation to become Batgirl. Shortly thereafter, she was ushered into her father’s office.

"Thank goodness you’re here, Batgirl. It seems one of my worst fears has been realized," Commissioner Gordon said.

"What exactly happened?" Batgirl asked.

"Ma Parker’s daughter, Legs, took her mother from the Old Criminals’ Home and that’s only the latest. Earlier, she and four companions held up a prison work gang and enabled everyone to escape, including The Joker and Catwoman. Reportedly, one prisoner left with Legs and her gang."

"So, not only are The Joker and Catwoman on the lose again, Ma Parker is back and up to her old tricks. I can see why you are concerned," Batgirl said.

"Begorra," Chief O’Hara agreed. "There is one odd thing, though. People we interviewed at the Old Criminals’ Home are unsure whether Ma Parker was broken out or kidnaped."

"Either way, it’s clear the doting daughter is following further in her mother’s felonious footsteps," Batgirl observed.

"Indeed," Commissioner Gordon confirmed. "She was just part of the gang when Ma Parker and her family took over the penitentiary, but today she seemed to be calling the shots. Three blondes and a pair of brunettes helped her with the crime. They were all armed to the teeth."

Batgirl’s face paled. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Thankfully, no. Chief O’Hara, show Batgirl the evidence we gathered." The Chief indicated a number of Kitty Claws and the device used to disrupt the phones.

"This is interesting," Batgirl said, indicating the device.

"Yes," Commissioner Gordon said, flipping through some documents. "According to our information, that small device disrupted the Old Criminals’ Home’s phone system to keep the crime from being promptly reported."

"Did Legs install it?"

"No, the orderly did after one of the blondes threatened him. I understand she consulted one of the other blondes to make sure it worked."

"It’s hard to be sure who may be who,” Batgirl said, thinking out loud. “The second blonde wasn’t Legs, though?"

"The security video arrived just before you did, Batgirl. We haven’t had a chance to watch it yet, but I know it doesn’t have sound, " Chief O’Hara said.

"It may be helpful, Chief," Batgirl said.

The Chief inserted the video cassette into the office VCR, turned on the monitor, and pushed “Play.”

"That’s Chickadee!" Commissioner Gordon said, pointing. "It looks like she’s the one Legs broke out of jail to help with the second crime."

“Chickadee was part of the prison work gang Legs set loose before she took her mother,” Chief O’Hara revealed.

“Chickadee worked for Egghead most recently," Chief O’Hara recalled. "Could he have escaped from jail? You put him away when he tried to sabotage the power plant."

"I don’t see Egghead fitting in with Legs," Batgirl said.

"Chickadee entered the world of Gotham’s super-criminals when she served as Penguin’s hat check girl, back when he ran his restaurant, The Penguin’s Nest. He’s still in Canada, facing charges for kidnaping and torturing Professor Syun-Ichi Akasofu, the doctor of geophysics, and his granddaughter, Jenny," Commissioner Gordon said.

“She also helped Madame DeBase with a couple of her schemes,” Batgirl remembered. “But this doesn’t seem like the Mad Madame’s style.”

Suddenly, Chief O’Hara pointed at the security video. "Hey! I recognize her. Isn’t that Moth?"

"That’s Moth, all right." Commissioner Gordon confirmed. "She worked for The Riddler when he smuggled a ring of wax solvent into Gotham City in order to pursue the Lost Treasure of the Incas. We haven’t seen him since the mass arch-criminal escape.”

Batgirl asked, "Have you received any riddles?"

"Sure and we haven’t."

"Riddler may not be behind this, but Moth clearly had that device installed," Commissioner Gordon said.

"It looks like Moth is consulting that blonde with the long, curly hair," Chief O’’Hara said, pointing.

"Vixen," Batgirl responded grimly. "I’ll bet she’s the one who made the device that knocked out the phones."

Vixen, the long-haired piece of arm-candy who had come to Gotham City to mingle with its underworld elite, had started at the top with The Joker. Subsequently, she had kept her hair and eyebrows shaved while in Egghead’s employ and guarded Catwoman’s body, impressing the Feline Felon enough to be groomed as a possible replacement. Between her stints as a henchwoman, she had taken advantage of a professional relationship developed with Madame DeBase to market the vast array of her pricey services. Her smarter clients had allowed her to demonstrate more of her varied talents than most would initially have considered obvious.

"If Vixen designed and built this, I must admit I’m a little surprised."

"Don’t underestimate Vixen, Commissioner. She may know more about the psychology of Gotham City’s underworld than anyone, including Batman. She is a talented computer hacker; she can practically ignore locks; and she can fight. If fact, the last time I ran into her she was Catwoman’s only associate, and the two of them nearly killed me.”

"Why, then, does she spend most of her time on the arms of Gotham’s criminal elite?" Chief O’Hara asked.

"Because she likes them and they can afford her. Do you recognize the tall blonde in white?"

"It’s Undine," Chief O’Hara said. “She worked for The Joker when he challenged Batman to that surfing contest.”

"Until this morning, Joker was still in jail because of his Christmas crime spree last year," Commissioner Gordon remarked.

"The Joker usually takes some time to set up his schemes. I don’t think he knew this break-out was coming. Let’s focus on the kidnaping at the Old Criminals’ Home. We have more to go on there," Batgirl advised. "For example, aren’t these Kitty Claws?" Batgirl gestured toward the remaining physical evidence.

"They disabled security vehicles before pursuit could be mounted," Chief O’Hara reported.

"They are Kitty Claws and they suggest Catwoman’s involvement. Until her escape this morning, she had been in jail since she got out of your body, Batgirl," Commissioner Gordon said.

"Isn’t that Eenie, of Catwoman and the Kittens," Chief O’Hara asked, watching the video. "They never did perform at the Police Benevolent Society Ball.”

The young brunette had worked with Catwoman when the villainess terrorized Gotham City with her voice eraser. Eenie had maintained a low profile in Gotham City’s underworld since then, but she had come into Ma Parker’s circle of friends through Madame DeBase.

"Catwoman has worked with Joker a couple of times," Chief O’Hara said speculatively.

"Wouldn’t she have left with The Joker if they were working together?" Commissioner Gordon said, thinking aloud. "The guards said Legs Parker and her entourage left The Joker unconscious."

"Good," Batgirl said. She vividly recalled how he had left her as a toy for his men after they had bound her to his gigantic, deadly jack-in-the-box. Subsequently, she had taken their punishment for that unwanted attention upon herself in the course of their capture, but left The Joker to the more benign justice system.

"Catwoman had some thug drive her away in a squad car, which we later found abandoned. Joker also subsequently escaped. We don’t have many details yet," O’Hara said darkly. "You know, getting Joker, Catwoman, and the others out may not have been the purpose of the operation at all.”

"Well, that accounts for everyone," Commissioner Gordon said, shutting off the video. "Why are they all running around with Legs Parker?"

"I don’t know," Batgirl admitted, "at least not yet."

"Could Ma Parker be organizing the underworld?" Commissioner Gordon asked.

"I don’t think so. Though, I can see how the former henchwomen running with her daughter might make you think that. We need to keep a close eye on young Ms. Parker’s activities."

"How will we know what she’s up to?" Chief O’Hara asked.

"If I could borrow the transcripts of the interviews you have so far, I may be able to find a clue."

"Of course, Batgirl."

"Thank you for your trust. I’ll call you when I come up with something."

Barbara Gordon was only a few minutes late returning from lunch and retired to her office, where she plowed through her remaining workload in record time, thus giving herself plenty of opportunity to study the transcripts of the police interviews.

Just before leaving for the day, she called her father from her private office. Although she trusted her father completely, she did take the precaution of blocking any Caller ID function. "Commissioner, this is Batgirl. I think I know what Legs Parker will try next."

"Did I miss that part of the transcripts?"

"It’s more of an inference than something I read. It’s clear Legs is a new single mother."

"Really? If so, what does that mean?"

"Well, that suggests to me she will probably try to commit crimes aimed at getting things she will need to take care of her baby!"

"What do you think she’s planning?"

"She’ll hit places like baby superstores, toy stores, and specialty retailers who sell things like baby clothes."

"I’ll compile a list and have Chief O’Hara increase the police presence at appropriate establishments."

"Good idea. I may be able to narrow the list of her initial targets. Something tells me Legs will use her next crime as an opportunity to make a statement. That means she’ll hit the biggest target possible first.”

"That makes sense. Do you have an idea what it might be?"

"Probably the largest collection of retailers in Gotham City."

"You mean——!"

"Yes, Commissioner. I think Legs will hit America’s Mall at the Crystal Castle."

"Batgirl, you’ve done it again! I’ll alert Chief O’Hara and have him send some men to cover the place."

"That may not be such a good idea. I think I can cover the mall and take on Legs and her gang without putting innocent bystanders at risk."

"As you wish, Batgirl."

"Thank you, Commissioner. I’ll let you know what happens."

Later, on the way to America’s Mall at the Crystal Castle, Batgirl made arrangements to return the transcripts to the police through a blind messenger service.

Meanwhile, at Legs Parker’s Park Row pad, her friends’ referred recruits had arrived. Ma Parker let them cool their heels in her converted parlor while they gathered. Once all her daughter’s suitors had arrived, Grandma Parker prepared to usher them into the posh audience chamber the ladies had set up.

"Good evening, boys," she said cordially.

"Good evening, ma’am," they said.

"Good," she said, nodding. "As all of you are probably aware, I am now Grandma Parker. My daughter, Legs, has brought you in as recruits for her new gang and possibly our family. I want to stress that she is a mother. So, anyone who thinks she’s bringing you in strictly for fun and games can pretty much go away right now. In case our reputation does not precede us, your potential wife dumped her last lover by arranging for him to be arrested. You are all vying for great responsibilities. I’d advise each of you not to make any of us angry."

"Hurry up, Mom!" Ma Parker called from her audience chamber.

"Okay. You may now join your sponsors. Remember what I said. I don’t want to have to remind you I said it!"

The five men followed her into an extensively remodeled room where a sextet of comely criminals lounged decoratively. Ma Parker sat like a queen atop a dais, a cradle between her chair and a second empty one. The baby slept peacefully as Legs rocked the cradle, waiting for her suitors to sit in uncomfortable, straight-backed chairs near their sponsors. Grandma Parker ascended to her seat and watched her daughter look over the gang they had assembled. "Let’s get on with it," Grandma Parker said.

Vixen sat on the edge of the dais swinging one long leg absently.

Her candidate wore a gray turtleneck and matching slacks. "This is French Freddy Touche the Fence. He is athletic, exotic, and offers an outlet for items this gang will steal. He has taste and can afford the finer things. Personally, I think he’s a catch.”

"Bon soir, Madame Parker," Freddy said, nodding to Grandma Parker. Mrs. Parker acknowledged his courtesy. "I am looking forward to working with you, Legs."

Ma Parker stared at him, holding his gaze until he blinked. "You broke a rule, Freddy."

French Freddy stared at her uncomprehendingly. "I am sorry," he apologized.

"You will be if you do it again. And let’s get something straight right now. Until I say otherwise, you work for me. Got it?"

"Oui."

"Oui, what?" she asked sharply.

French Freddy squirmed. "Oui, Le——"

Vixen kicked him hard, eliciting a grunt.

Freddy recovered his wits and cleared his throat. "Pardon moi, I meant to say, ‘Oui, Mademoiselle.’"

Ma Parker stared at him until she was satisfied he had squirmed enough. Then she nodded. French Freddy sat and let out a breath gratefully.

"Tell me about Freddy’s experience, Vixen."

"He worked with Catwoman when she stole the famous Batagonian Cat’s Eye Opals from the Forever Jewel Company. He spotted the swag as paste planted by Batman. On another occasion, he tried to smuggle the diamonds from the Wayne Foundation out of Gotham City for Minerva. The only reason that didn’t work was Batman discovered she had stolen them before he got them out of town.

"Bad luck, Freddy?" Ma Parker asked.

French Freddy shrugged. "It is not easy to fence famous diamonds."

"Why do they call you French Freddy?"

"I am most anxious to demonstrate for you, Boss."

Legs grinned at him and chuckled. "Me, too. Now, what is behind your nickname, Touche?"

"I run a fencing school as a front."

"I see. Is your weapon as impressive as your other credentials?"

"Well, Vixen did sponsor me."

"True. Did you make Catwoman purr as well?’’

"She made me aware of no complaints."

"Touche, Freddy. Undine, who do you have for me?"

She sprawled in a lounge chair. Her man wore tan slacks, a gray pullover vest, and a red shirt. A white painter’s cap crowned his head. "This is Bolt," Undine said. "He was a key member of the gang when Joker tried to poison Gotham City’s water supply and use his tiny time control box to hold the city hostage. I have found him to be one of the most loyal men I’ve ever met."

"Good evening, Ma Parker," Bolt greeted his intended. "I’d like to say what a pleasure it is to have been brought into your employ."

"Very good, Bolt," Ma Parker said, glancing back at French Freddy. "I love a man who pays attention."

"Thank you, Ma Parker," the tall thug said.

"Sit down, Bolt." Bolt sat. "What is your opinion of The Joker?"

"The Joker is one of the most dedicated employers I’ve had the pleasure of working for. He really takes care of his people, kidnaping entire juries for them and that sort of thing."

"Undine, do you think The Joker would remember Bolt?"

"Well, he remembered me."

"I’d noticed. Okay, Chickadee. Show me what you’ve got."

The brunette from the Bronx had leaned her hips against the sideboard where her candidate had busied himself.
"This is Maty Dee. He worked with me at the Penguin’s Nest and is excellent when it comes to taking care of the little things. I’ll tell you from personal experience he handles all of them very well."

Maty Dee adjusted his bow tie in the mirror, tugged his red jacket lapels unnecessarily, and put two glasses on a tray. He moved to the foot of the dais and handed a glass to Grandma Parker.

Mrs. Parker sipped the drink and smiled. "It’s ambrosia. Thank you. I like him, honey."

Maty Dee offered Ma Parker the other glass. She sipped it and smiled. "This is a Love Cocktail and a promising beginning. You’re very thoughtful."

"It is my pleasure to serve," he said.

"How, specifically?"

"In any manner required, Ma’am."

Ma Parker took a long pull at her drink and nodded as Maty Dee returned to Chickadee.

"Excellent. Moth, tell me about the fine fellow you’ve brought."

Moth had been lying on her side along the hearth resting her head in a hand propped up on her elbow. She rolled into a sitting position. "I’d like to introduce CB. He worked with Mr. Riddler when he tried to steal Mr. Van Jones’ silent film collection. He ran the camera to make a silent epic starring the unwitting Dynamic Dingbats. It’s very funny and enabled Mr. Riddler to get into Van Jones’ house. CB can do marvelous thing with a camera. Such things fire the imagination. He also has a very good eye." Moth’s eyes sparkled as she spoke.

"I might be able to use a good eye," Ma Parker remarked.

"If I may make an observation, some of you have more than one," he said.

"Flatterer," Ma Parker accused, grinning.

CB glanced at Moth and smiled. She nodded encouragingly before addressing her boss, "As you can see, he has an eye for fashion as well as beauty."

CB slouched as comfortably as he could in his chair crossing his ankles so his polished shoes gleamed. He wore gray, belted slacks; a white collared shirt with a string tie knotted into a bow at his neck; and an open vest which matched his slacks.

"I take it you have an extensive wardrobe?"

"Yes, Ma’am. I like to look good. And, if I may say, you inspire me to dress with extra care."

"Thank you. It won’t be necessary all the time, however."

"I’m delighted."

Ma Parker grinned impishly. "Oh, you will be. I promise. Okay, Eenie," Ma Parker said to the woman curled comfortably on a couch. The man with her had on a yellow and black striped pullover, black slacks, a matching neckcloth, and a funny black hat with two triangular ears.

"I'd like to nominate Spade," the former henchkitten said.

"How do you spell that?"

"S-P-A-D-E. Why do you ask?"

Legs laughed and explained, "Oh, good! I have no interest in a husband who's been spayed!"

Eenie paled, horrified. "What a dreadful thought!" The she brightened. "Not to worry, once you've heard his voice, it will remove any doubt about that!"

"Okay, Eenie. Why are you nominating Mr. Spade?’’ Ma Parker asked as Spade’s succulent sponsor smiled, trying to suppress her laughter.

"He is quite possibly the most exciting man I know. He worked for Catwoman when she tried to knock over the mint."

"What makes you so exciting, Spade?" Ma Parker asked.

"If you’ll permit me, I’ll show you ," he said suavely, approaching her with devils dancing in his blue eyes. The women nodded at one another, thus approvingly the deep, masculine timbre of Spade’s voice.

"Down, boy. There’s work to be done."

"I just thought we might get down to business," Spade said, sounding innocent. "Later, perhaps?" Eenie hit him.

"Is he always like this?"

"He’s a walking adventure."

"How very exciting." Ma Parker said, pausing as a smile played at the corners of her mouth. She sighed, cleared her throat, and continued. "Good. Business first, though. So, pay attention, boys and girls. Momma wants to go shopping. We’ll hit America’s Mall at the Crystal Castle. We’re after anything and everything you think would be of use to me or this gang. Your sponsors and I will be evaluating your selections and your performance as you acquire them. We’ll leave in fifteen minutes. I’ll answer your questions on the way. Move it. Now!"

The men scrambled to their feet. Fifteen minutes later, everyone was in the van.

"I have a question," Bolt announced. Perhaps unwisely, he plowed ahead, asking, "What if Batman interferes with your plans, Boss?"

"Yeah," CB chimed in, "and what about Robin?"

"Or Batgirl?" Spade added.

"There are also those newer crime fighters to consider. Batwoman, I think the one calls herself," French Freddy remarked.

"Her partner is called Flamebird. What about any of them, Boss?" Maty Dee asked.

"Don’t worry about them, boys," Ma Parker said confidently. "Mother and I are prepared to warn off any or all of them. And if they persist in pestering us, we’ll have to take sterner measures." She laughed. "Oh, yes. Much sterner measures indeed!"

Seconds after Ma Parker stopped chuckling over her answers to her suitors’ questions, her family van was on its way——packed with people and headed for trouble.

Batgirl waited, watching monitors showing the perspective of parking lot cameras, from the security room of America’s Mall at the Crystal Castle, until a crowd disembarked from a van.

"Is that them?" a guard asked. Batgirl’s gaze followed his finger and she nodded. "Oh, my God,” the guard blurted, “they’re armed——with machine guns!"

"What do you suggest?" the head of security asked the Curvaceous Crimefightress.

"The safest thing would be to give them what they want. We have to keep the public out of harm’s way. How close are we to them right now?"

"They’re coming toward the nearest entrance to our location," the guard reported.

"Good. I’ll try to deal with them before they cause any trouble. If things don’t work out, though, I want your people to play it safe and cooperate."

"What about our duty to protect our merchants’ property?"

"Our primary duty is to people’s lives. We need to keep both merchants and customers safe."

"Whatever you say, Batgirl. Good luck."

Gotham City’s Dark Angel dashed to intercept the gorgeous gang.

Ma Parker and her many minions paused as Batgirl faced them on the sidewalk before the mall entrance. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," the heroine said. "I’m here to escort all of you back to jail."

Grandma Parker laughed. "Batgirl, you and what army?" she asked.

"Just me."

"You’ve got to be kidding. There are more of us than there are of you——a lot more. And we’re armed."

Half a dozen gun muzzles aimed at Batgirl.

"I know. But I also know you are all cowards hiding behind an infant." Batgirl indicated the baby in the stroller Grandma Parker was pushing.

"Oh, I haven’t introduced myself, or my baby," Ma Parker said.

"I know who you are, Legs,” Batgirl answered. “You’re despicable."

"I’m Ma Parker now, Batgirl, and I’m trying to instill some family values in my child——Parker family values. To do that, I want to make a point. All right, put up the guns."

"What? Why don’t we just perforate her?" Bolt asked.

"Because I told you not to. Put ‘em away. Now!"

The gang aimed their machine guns skyward and clicked on the safeties.

"I’m glad you see things my way. Now if you will all just raise your hands——"

"Fat chance! Batgirl, you’re a purple prude," Ma Parker said. "Boys, ignore Batgirl and get on with the job."

"Hold it!" Batgirl ordered.

"Take care of her, Grandma!" Ma Parker ordered.

Batgirl watched as Grandma Parker took a baby bottle from the stroller and began to shake it vigorously.

"Last chance to surrender, ladies!" Batgirl warned, stepping toward the Parkers.

Grandma Parker aimed the nipple of the bottle at Batgirl and eased the seal upward with her thumbnail. Suddenly, an audible “pop” propelled the pacifier into Batgirl’ forehead! It struck her right between the eyes. The Svelte Sentinel first swayed, then slid to the ground, unconscious.

"Once this is shaken, she won’t stir," Grandma Parker explained. "The pacifier is lined with lead."

"You mean it knocked her out?" CB asked.

"Precisely," Ma Parker said.

"How long will she be out?" Spade asked.

"Long enough, if you get busy!" Ma Parker said. "Get going!”

Ma Parker advanced her gang with a gesture. As she passed Batgirl, Moth asked, "Where should we set up shop while we’re here?"

"Let’s wait for the boys at the Planet Krypton by the food court," Chickadee suggested. "I’m hungry.”

"Good idea," Ma Parker approved. The rest of the gang stepped around Batgirl, ignoring their unconscious, outwitted opponent. "I want to look at a few things while we’re here."

"So do I," Undine said.

Shoppers’ terrified screams echoed from inside America’s Mall at the Crystal Castle. Batgirl heard them after some time passed and moaned. It took her several minutes to regain her feet and rub the pain from her throbbing temples. A moment later she was ready. "Time to get that gang," she said and began to make her way rapidly through the mall, seeking her quarry. She first encountered her female foes dining at the Planet Krypton eatery.

The comely criminals had been busy. In addition to acquiring their food, Ma Parker and Undine now carried designer handbags. Batgirl deduced these contained shoes and an entire outfit respectively.
The basis for Batgirl’s deductions were the pale blue knee high boots Ma Parker sported and Undine’s entire new outfit, a white bikini.

Undine either had an aversion to clothes or just liked to show off her beautiful body. The top of the bikini encased her breasts completely, appearing almost like an inverted heart with the tip bitten off where her neck emerged.

"Look who’s coming!" Undine said, pointing.

"It’s Batgirl!" Moth said.

"Batgirl!" Grandma Parker repeated. "She recovered faster than I expected."

"I’m going to send all you back to jail where you belong," the Dark Knight Damsel declared.

"Spread out," Ma Parker ordered. Her glamorous goons dispersed among the tables, as the citizenry fled the impending violence.

Legs, you’ve put this rotten gang together and I’m going to smash it once and for all. " Batgirl announced, approaching and watching her enemies out of the corners of her eyes. "Your crime wave is over. Right here and right now! I want you!

"You want me, Batgirl? Sorry, you’re not my type.” Batgirl gave Legs a withering look. Ma Parker laughed and continued, “You’ll leave me alone, if you know what’s good for you."

"That’s not likely, Legs. Your mother may have knocked me down, but I’m far from having been taken out."

"That’s Ma Parker to you! And I was reserving that pleasure for myself. Now, if anyone is going to do any smashing around here it’s going to be me. Girls, proceed!"

Batgirl had been aware of Undine creeping up on her since the women had dispersed. Suddenly she slid toward the blonde and raised her arm sharply to slam the back of her fist into Undine’s chin. As Undine collapsed, Batgirl spun toward the remaining blondes and assumed a fighting stance, motioning for them to come to her. Moth obliged, charging. Batgirl sidestepped and hit her in the side with two fists, causing Moth to crumple and lay gasping for air.

"Your turn, Vixen," Batgirl said.

Vixen grinned. "I’ve been looking forward to this," she said, setting herself for combat.

Behind Batgirl, the brunettes were creeping forward.

Vixen spun and shot a shapely leg at Batgirl. The heroine pushed Vixen’s foot aside and slid forward to score a blow to her enemy’s ribs with a lightning fast foot. She glimpsed Vixen begin to double over as she felt her plant foot swept from beneath her by one of Chickadee’s legs.

Seconds after Batgirl hit the floor, Eenie was upon her, holding a Kitty Claw to her throat, pressing just hard enough to dimple the flesh over her windpipe. "Move and I’ll slice a smile from one ear to the other, Batgirl," the former henchkitten threatened. "From here it will only take two strokes."

Batgirl was inclined to struggle, but knew the brunette could wield her weapon with vicious efficiency.

"You didn’t expect us to fight fair, did you?" Chickadee asked with a wicked laugh as she leaned a shapely hip against a table.

Batgirl dared not shake her head.

"Get her up," Ma Parker ordered.

Vixen, who had recovered her breath, and a recovered Undine hauled Batgirl roughly to her feet. Eenie maintained the pressure of her Kitty Claw. "What are we going to do with her?" Moth asked as she regained her feet.

"You’ll see soon enough. You three, take her outside. Chickadee, come with me. Moth, get something to bind her with."

Moth hurried off and spotted Bolt and French Freddy the Fence. "Boys," she said, "I need shoe laces." Bolt knelt and reached for his shoes.

French Freddy pulled him up by the shoulder and indicated a nearby shoe store. They moved off while Moth waited.

When Moth and the men rejoined the gang at the exit, Chickadee and Ma Parker were motioning everyone to join them at a wooden enclosure beside the building. "I was hoping a mall this size would have one of these," Ma Parker said when the rest of the women joined her. "Boys, tell the others time is up. Then help load the van and bring it around here to wait for us. If we need more vehicles to escape in, help yourselves," Ma Parker said, gesturing to indicate the parking lot. Once they had gone, she ushered everyone into the unsheltered enclosure.

Batgirl’s eyes widened with horror as she was shoved toward a trash compactor. "You’re sick, Legs. You’re going to make your baby watch you murder me?"

"I told you to call me Ma Parker! Bind her!" Moth began tearing at the shoe lace packages she had told the men to steal. Soon Chickadee drew Batgirl’s wrists behind her and tightly bound them, along with the heroine’s ankles. Once she was secure, Eenie removed the Kitty Claw from her captive’s throat.

"Shall we initiate her crushing finish?" Undine asked hopefully with a mischievous laugh. "Dusk is such a good time for such events."

"Not just yet. Moth has been adding to the trash heap, making a demonstration more potentially interesting. Vixen, hit the button."

The curly-haired call girl moved to the starter with one stride and pressed it. Slowly a motor began to hum as two walls of the trash-filled chamber came slowly together. Everyone heard metal crumple and glass shatter, until the walls retracted and the top and bottom of the chamber repeated the procedure. Seconds later, a cube of crushed refuse emerged from the machine.

"Not much left, is there?" Undine asked, chuckling wickedly and gesturing at the cube of refuse silhouetted in the hellish light of dusk.

"The baby is getting restless," Grandma Parker announced.

"We’re almost finished," Ma Parker responded. "Well, some of us are."

Batgirl had renewed her struggles with her tight bonds, but was making little headway.

"Next!" Vixen said, laughing.

"In you go, Batgirl," Chickadee said, pushing their intended victim into Undine’s arms so the two of them could toss her into the death chamber.

"Wait," Ma Parker ordered. She began to laugh. "Spin her first."

Eenie stepped forward to assist Chickadee with the torturous chore after Undine balanced their victim once again. Once Batgirl had begun to noticeably wobble, her executioners toppled her into the crusher.

Down and dizzy, Batgirl rolled onto her back, trying to focus on her captors once again.

"Any last words?" Moth asked with mock interest.

"Yes! As long as I am breathing, I’ll fight you all!" First, of course, she would have to win the battle with her bonds. She renewed her struggles.

"Hmm," Undine said, "Maybe we should do something about that before we leave. Do we have any shoelaces left?"

"Quite a few," Moth said.

"Vixen, do you know anything about knots?" she asked, winking.

"A little," her companion responded, returning the wink.

"Well, I’ve entertained a few sailors myself. And I have an idea. Listen." She drew Ma Parker and Vixen into a small huddle.

Ma Parker disengaged herself from the other women. "Yes," she said, brightening as a smile illuminated her face and her hands settled on her shapely hips. "By all means, do it. Make Batgirl uncomfortable. Oh, this is going to be good. The rest of you, start tying shoe laces together." With breathless anticipation, she watched her gang begin to carry out her orders.

The two blondes moved into the crusher and cradled Batgirl’s neck with one of the lengthening laces. Vixen wound the shorter end of the lace around the longer and tied it into a knot. She smiled as Batgirl ceased her struggles, once the blonde jerked the lace, causing her knot drawn into position against her victim’s throat. Undine, meanwhile, stretched out the trailing end of the strand, running it through the cleft between Batgirl’s breasts.

"Exquisite," Chickadee commented.

"We’re just getting started," Undine announced. "Let’s roll her over."

As Batgirl’s captors did so, Undine took up the slack. She slid the lace between her victim’s legs and cinched it through the crack bisecting the bound woman’s buttocks. Vixen pulled Batgirl’s arms downward, stretching her enemy’s sinews to their limits, before tying the loose end off among Batgirl’s wrist bindings.

"Now she’s getting tight!" Eenie said, chuckling gleefully.

"You fiends!" Batgirl shouted.

"Ain’t that the truth?" Chickadee asked absently.

"Oh, this is just the beginning," Vixen taunted. "Time to do her legs.”

Undine slipped a second loop around Batgirl’s throat, tautening it as her partner had. Then she threaded the trailing end under Batgirl’s bound wrists. Vixen bent Batgirl’s knees and leaned weight on them, pressing the victim’s heels toward her butt until the body parts touched. To maintain Batgirl’s painful positioning, Undine wound the trailing lace into the victim’s ankle bindings. The miniscule amount of slack in the lace was taken up when Vixen stood. Batgirl’s feet rose slightly until the laces restrained them. Batgirl gasped as the loops at her throat tightened, not quite imperceptibly. Undine’s finishing touch was a bow prettily encircling both the wrist and ankle bindings.

"There," Undine said smugly. "Now if you twitch even slightly, you’re dead."

"Happy strangling," Vixen agreed, leading the way from the death chamber.

"Shall we finish her off now?" Moth asked.

"That won’t be necessary, Moth," Ma Parker said.

"What? Are you kidding?"

"She’s right," Grandma Parker agreed. "The crusher has ceased to be the instrument of her execution and become a means of tidying up afterwards."

"The way we tied her, any movement of any kind will put her life at risk. She’ll try to remain still, of course, but the position we chose for her should already be quite excruciating," Vixen began.

"And it isn’t getting any more comfortable," Undine added gleefully.

"Even if she remains perfectly still, her muscles will start cramping very soon," Ma Parker explained. "Once again, over time, that situation will only get worse." Vixen, Undine, and the adult Parkers shared a laugh.

"You mean Batgirl won’t be able to help taking herself out automatically?" Chickadee asked.

"Involuntarily," Ma Parker corrected, "but, you are precisely correct."

"The deed won’t be traced to us and cleanup will likely be handled by some dim-witted teenager who won’t even notice the body," Grandma Parker predicted with wicked glee.

"That’s not very likely, ladies," Batgirl said defiantly.

"She’s right. Batgirl will just warn a passing employee she’s in there and get herself rescued," Eenie said.

"Good point, Eenie," Ma Parker said, after considering her friend’s objection for a moment. "Can you help us fix it, Mom?"

"This should help," Grandma Parker said, pulling a clean cloth from the baby’s diaper bag and handing it to Moth.

The baby-faced bombshell took the cloth and shoved it into Batgirl’s mouth, securing the gag with yet another shoe lace. I would have used a dirty diaper, myself,Moth thought. Then, out loud, she said, "Hey, why don’t you keep her belt as a trophy, Boss? She won’t be needing it where she’s going."

"Good idea, Moth. Chickadee, Eenie, lift the body." The henchwomen carried out Ma Parker’s orders. Moth unbuckled the belt, tugged it gently from Batgirl’s waist, and handed it to Ma Parker with a mocking bow.

"It suits me. Don’t you think?" Ma Parker asked, modeling the belt "Thank you, Moth." They heard a horn sound from the lot outside the enclosure. "Put her down, carefully."

Batgirl felt the henchwoman obey. She would never be certain what motivated their final act of cruelty. It may have been the perverse pleasure they took in torturing her or, perhaps, Eenie was more catlike than any of them knew. As Chickadee settled Batgirl’s shoulders on the ground, Eenie lifted the crime fightress’ knees ever so slightly, so all of Batgirl’s weight rested momentarily on her crumpling breasts. After setting her down, Eenie was rewarded with a painful gasp as the former kitten stepped back from the victim.

"Well," Ma Parker said, "it seems my warning has evolved into a more serious send-off for you. Oh, well. I’d love to stay and watch your final movements coincide with your final moments, but our schedule is somewhat restrictive. You know the feeling, I’m sure." She paused to laugh at her small joke. "Besides, I have many other pressing engagements to consider. If you find your tight execution schedule is too much to bear, I would urge you simply to relax. All your troubles will fade away with your last labored breath. Goodbye, Batgirl. Forever." Ma Legs Parker concluded her speech with a mischievous laugh and led her family from the enclosure. Once away from her victim, she dashed to inspect the haul her suitors had stolen for her.

"You’ll be finished before it’s fully dark, I think. Good night," Grandma Parker said, favoring Batgirl with a dismissive nod and a gesture at the fiery sky. She stepped away pushing the baby carriage and responding to a small sound the infant made. Batgirl’s eyes had been adjusting to the coming darkness as her predicament was slowly shrouded in shadow.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking better, Batgirl," Chickadee said, moving away from her victim’s bound body. As she left the enclosure, she glanced over her shoulder. "Bye bye."

"See ya," Moth said, striding from the death chamber. "I sure wouldn’t want to be ya. It looks like that really hurts." She chuckled and departed.

"Don’t move, Batgirl," Undine advised quietly before leaving the area.

Vixen settled her hands on her shapely hips and spread her legs to shoulder width, mocking one of Batgirl’s favorite poses. "I never paid you back for what you did to me when we talked about Catwoman in that alley a couple years ago."

Batgirl’s gag prevented her from apologizing. She recalled how she had used a static pistol to interrogate the Princess of Plunder’s bodyguard. Afterward, she had decided the force employed had been excessive and put the weapon away for good. Batgirl tried to communicate her genuine sorrow for how she had handled the encounter with her eyes.

Vixen, however, was uninterested. She gave Batgirl’s prone body a powerful kick in the side. Batgirl took the blow with a grunt. "Does that hurt?" the evil escort asked. "I see that it did. Unlucky you. I seem to recall you shocking me twice." Vixen stepped over her prone victim and turned to deliver an identical blow to Batgirl’s other side. Again Batgirl grunted. "There, that evens the score I think." She paused. "Wait a minute. I just remembered. You slapped me!"

Batgirl felt herself cringe inwardly. She wasn’t surprised the vengeful woman recalled the encounter as vividly as she did. Vixen had been on the receiving end, after all. Apprehension welled within Batgirl as she listened to Vixen walk ominously around her. The blonde woman crouched before her head and turned her face to expose a cheek.

Batgirl shuddered as Vixen laid a warm hand against her face. The chords around her throat cinched more snuggly. "Do you know what I’m going to do?" As Batgirl stared helplessly at her captor, Vixen chuckled. "I’m going to leave you." Vixen patted Batgirl’s cheek gently and straightened. "You’re one of the most strong-willed do-gooders in the world, Batgirl. Thus, your pride will keep you alive in this situation longer than even exceptionally iron-willed heroes like Batman would last." She laughed wickedly and went on, "You’ll soon discover how indescribably excruciating this death really is. Then it will continue, seeming to go on endlessly. I want you to enjoy every intolerable instant of it, with my compliments. Ta ta." Vixen loomed over her a moment longer, before turning on her heel and leaving.

Eenie had watched the pain register on Batgirl’s face with detached interest. "Interesting," the former henchkitten observed. "After watching Vixen, it seems it’s true what they say about revenge, Batgirl. I’m interested in your thoughts, but——." She laughed briefly. "For myself, I think we’ve toyed with you long enough. Fare well." She blew Batgirl a parting kiss and was gone in two sexy strides. Her former mistress, Catwoman, had taught her very well.

Once the echoes from the Parker gang’s getaway vehicles died away, Batgirl knew she was alone and had nothing to rely on to escape except her wits. For a trap devised on the spot, Ma Parker’s evil minions’ machinations were proving remarkably effective. She could already feel her legs beginning to cramp. Despite Vixen’s observations about her willpower, Batgirl estimated she would be dead long before dawn. The shadows falling across her prone, perilously positioned body were slowly fading as the sun set overhead, ushering the dark of night to herald the darkness of the death looming ahead for Batgirl.

Back to the Batgirl Bat-Trap Homepage!

You are visitor number to read this week's story.