THE WORST IS YET TO COME!

Batgirl Pursues Every Telltale Trace

Batgirl had been laid face down on Vixen’s waterbed and glumly considered the thoroughness with which she had been rendered helpless and the simplicity of the death her captors had devised for her.

Eenie had found a positively fiendish function for duct tape, a use of which Secretary of Homeland Security Tom Ridge had never dreamed. Batgirl’s joints were wrapped in makeshift splints so that her limbs were utterly immobilized. The hench-kittens had also evenly distributed Batgirl’s weight over the bed, preventing the Svelte Sentinel from using the muscles in her shoulders and waist to maneuver around the surface of the mattress.

Normally, Batgirl would have fallen back on her arsenal of miraculous devices. She carried blades that would have made short work of the tape immobilizing her limbs. She also had a tracer that could summon the police in extremely dire circumstances. This time, however, Vixen had covered her miraculous belt with tape. In addition, the Criminal Call-Girl had the foresight to have sealed the gaps between Batgirl’s boots and legs, as well as her gloves and arms. These precautions had made the backup items she carried, which she usually used when her utility belt was taken away, unavailable.

Perhaps two minds were better than one for devising inescapable perils for Batgirl and Gotham City’s crime fighting duos. Eenie and Vixen’s arrangement was simple. Their supercriminal superiors would typically invent gigantic machines to somehow go to work on the heroes or subject them to lengthy, lethal, and exotic processes. Immobilized on the waterbed, Batgirl realized she was likely to be killed using everyday, household items. The trap’s brilliance could not be denied.

Both of Batgirl’s captors had been present when young Ma “Legs” Parker had splayed her atop a gelatin filled hot tub to drown when its contents liquefied through the fiendish application of heat. This deathtrap that the hench-kittens had devised shared two characteristics with Ma Parkers’s gelatin filled whirlpool.

Both used the proportions of Batgirl’s beautiful body against her. Turned on her chest, Batgirl’s breasts thrust more deeply into the perforated mattress, thus hastening her designed death. Most other villains would have left Gotham's Gorgeous Guardian on her back.

In addition, gravity was the key element of the sinister scenario. Batgirl could do nothing to change the laws of physics.

As in most of her perilous predicaments, Batgirl would have to think her way out of this deadly situation. Eenie and Vixen had overlooked something. In Batgirl’s experience, villains always did, but unless she could determine what the flaw in the trap was, Batgirl was doomed!

Eenie and Vixen’s plans for her demise were proceeding according to their satanic schedule. Soon, very soon, in fact, the job would be finished, and so would Batgirl!

The front of her costume was already drenched. Water touched the tip of her nose and she raised her head, the only mobile part of her body. She felt a breath of air touch her cheek and glanced in the direction from whence it had come. Moonlight beamed through the bedroom window, and there was something else. The window was open.

One of her assassins must have thrown it open to cool her off all the more quickly. The significance of the observation might not have been apparent, if she had not seen the glint of metal lying beside her on the bed. Batgirl blinked and focused on the reflection. As she stared, a breeze blew through the open window, causing tiny ripples to distort the surface of the water in which she had been laid.

As the surface of the puddle returned to its crystal stillness, Batgirl realized three things. Her body would float naturally; one of the needles Vixen and Eenie had used to puncture the waterbed’s mattress had been left beside her; and the tape that bound her, as well as her costume, was not only wet – it was slowly becoming saturated.

Experimentally, Batgirl reviewed her limited range of movement. She found she could slightly bend the fingers of her left hand. She began to concentrate on wiggling her fingers as vigorously as possible, trying to separate them from the sticky surface of the tape.

As she worked, she stretched her arm and realized the footboard was just beyond her reach. She imagined herself getting a grip on it and pulling herself free, but knew her current position would not allow that plan to be successful.

Batgirl relaxed and twisted her hand slightly to examine the tape that bound her wrist. Her eyes widened as she spotted part of the sticky surface that had somehow been turned outward. She raised her arm the inch the tape on her wrist allowed it to move and slapped the sticky corner of the tape against the mattress. Praying the tape would stick, she wrenched her hand upward and pulled a little more of the tape away. When she repeated the movement, the tape on her shoulder allowed her to raise her arm higher. She was able to stick more tape to the mattress and slowly tore additional tape from her hand and wrist. Repeating this process over and over ultimately enabled her to free her left hand.

With one hand free, Batgirl was closer to freedom, but still very much an imperiled prisoner. Her shoulder and elbow were still heavily wrapped. Reaching the tape on her mouth or other hand would be utterly impossible.

Batgirl felt a rush of excitement when she noticed she could see her bound self in the dresser mirror. ‘I’m sure Vixen has it positioned that way for . . . other reasons’ Whatever Vixen’s motives, a glance in the mirror told Batgirl that the tape on her shoulders was drenched and she would soon be in position to risk greater movement. Now, however, she could not move her shoulders, despite the tape surrounding them becoming softer as the water continued to saturate it.

As Batgirl moved, she felt the water soak a previously dry part of her costume. The edge of the puddle was lapping the tape surrounding her elbows.

Batgirl HAD to go on breathing. She realized the puddle was about to become what her captors had intended – a drowning pool.

Batgirl exhaled and reconsidered her predicament. ‘Why am I concentrating on freeing my arms?’ Her legs had descended deeper into the puddle. ‘The tape around my knees should be weaker than the tape around my shoulders and the tape around my hips should be weaker yet!’

Bending her knees, she could feel the strips of tape begin to separate. This accomplished two goals. It moved the edge of the puddle further away from her face and allowed the thick wrapping of tape around her hips to become further soaked and softer.

Could she reach the headboard behind her? Another glance at the mirror made her think it was worth a try. She tried to straighten her legs and made some progress.

Batgirl drew her arms together as far as they would move and then tried to pull them in toward her. She exhaled through her nose and felt the saturated, softened tape around her shoulders begin to separate. She pushed herself back and flattened her feet against the headboard.

With all her strength, the World’s Greatest Female Escape Artist pushed back and bent her legs. She felt her knees bend, their sodden bindings shred, and the tape encasing her hips bunch simultaneously. Before she let herself collapse, she inhaled deeply through her nose.

Batgirl landed with a splash. She would have a few moments to recover her strength before the puddle in which she lay returned. She turned her head so that she could continue breathing and waited.

When the water reached her nose, Batgirl gathered herself. She prepared to fling herself toward the footboard, buoyed on the surface of the puddle and powered by muscle. She straightened and exhaled, feeling her body thrust forward, plowing through and displacing the puddle on the bed until her hands hit the footboard.

Now the bulk of her weight was in the center of the bed and the puddle no longer threatened to drown her. She moved her outstretched hands together and pulled at the sodden tape that still bound her right hand.

Once both of her hands were free from the tape, she gripped the footboard and pulled herself from the bed to safety.

Batgirl tore the tape from her mouth, breathed gratefully, and began extricating herself from the remaining tape, assisted by the occasional poke from the needle one of her captors had left on the bed.

Before leaving Vixen’s apartment, she reviewed Catwoman’s summons on the answering machine. Then she roared toward Axis Chemicals on her Batgirlcycle, chilled as her costume was blown dry.

Meanwhile, at Axis Chemicals, a devilish demonstration was about to be performed.

“Get on with it, Catwoman,” the Joker said. The mind of Selina Kyle was now indeed back in its original, blonde, Amazonian body.

“You want the drug, Joker?” the Fiendish Feline asked. The Clown Prince of Crime bobbed his head vigorously. “Then be patient! Eenie and Vixen, fetch the subject!”

The hench-kittens vanished and returned pushing a wheelchair to which the young resident doctor, now conscious, was bound with stout ropes.

“What are you doing with her?”

“I wanted to use someone you know, Joker. This way, you’ll know the drug really works.”

“You’re going to change her personality?”

“Cataphrenic will transform her as soon as you administer the measured dose I am about to purr-scribe. Now, for the sake of the demonstration, describe this woman.”

“Well, she’s smart and has a killer body–”

“Joker!” Catwoman said, exasperated. “Her personality is what’s relevant here.”

The Joker laughed. “Oh. Of course,” he said. “She’s a medical school graduate, studying psychiatry as a resident at Gotham State Penitentiary. She’s polite, kinda quiet and a bit mousy.” The Joker made a show of putting his hand next to his face, but continued to speak in his normally loud voice. “I think she is trying to cure me of my madness and make me a productive citizen.”

The Joker then swung his arms to encompass the entire room. “Don’t you all think her goals are noble? Isn’t she the sweetest thing ever?” He paused and laughed before summarizing, “In other words, she’s a disgustingly benevolent, sappily weak, do-gooder.”

“Her goals are awful, Joker. You wouldn’t be the same!” Vixen said, stricken with horror. Eenie glanced quizzically at her.

“It is a rather silly idea, isn’t it?” the Joker said. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. ‘Honesty does not pay!’” He laughed uproariously.

“You think you can cure the Joker?” Eenie asked the prisoner.

“Well,” the young woman said, “with time, study, and application of certain psychiatric techniques, I can find the seeds of compassion buried deep in the Joker’s psyche and nourish them until they blossom and transform him.”

“Eeeewwww!” said the Joker with disgust.

“How do you know these ‘seeds of compassion’ even exist?” Eenie asked.

“Well, if you study the Joker’s file, you’ll notice he takes his time when trying to commit murder. I cannot imagine him attempting to kill Batman in a way that did not involve a lengthy delay before the end.”

“Couldn’t this ‘delay’ you speak of be nothing more than psychological torture?” Vixen asked incredulously.

“Huh!” sniffed the doctor. “That’s what simpletons who have not tried to understand the Joker would say!”

“You know,” the Joker interjected with a whimsical laugh, “I think she’s nuttier than I am!”

“Enough!” Catwoman shouted, her arms straight at her sides and looking up at the ceiling. “All this psychobabble is making my head hurt. So, Joker, you’ll trade me your new robots for a batch of the Cataphrenic?”

“Yes,” he replied, “provided it works.”

“Oh, it will work,” Catwoman said. “Eenie, purr-form the injection.”

“I have a question,” the Joker announced, as Eenie prepared. “Must the drug be delivered by injection?”

“No,” Catwoman answered. “It can also be ingested or administered through contact with the skin. That contact would, however, have to be quite prolonged. Eenie, proceed.”

Eenie advanced on the doctor, who struggled helplessly in her chair. “Don’t worry,” she purred, “you might even like it.”

“Don’t any of you move!” an authoritative voice said.

“We’ve got you red-handed!” a more youthful voice chimed in.

“Batman and Robin!” Vixen said.

“How did they find out about this deal?” Eenie asked.

“It doesn’t matter, kittens,” their mistress declared. “Pulling a job without Batman interfering would rob crime of its piquancy.”

“Your vehicles are very distinctive!” Robin explained.

“Right,” Batman agreed. “You foolishly made absolutely no attempt to hide them when you parked outside.”

“The Jokermobile,” the Joker said thoughtfully.

“My Kitty Car,” Catwoman said, stroking her chin.

“We easily spotted them during a routine patrol,” Robin added.

“So,” the Joker said with a laugh, “the Dynamic Dunderheads have arrived to once again try to thwart us. Unfortunately for them, we have a second demonstration to perform! Meet my new and improved creations!“ He produced his microphone with a merry laugh. “Robots, remove Batman and Robin from existence! Pound them into utterly primordial Bat-Stuff!”

Eenie pulled her needle from the doctor’s arm and cast a questioning glance at the colorful criminal. She turned to Catwoman and rolled her eyes. Catwoman shrugged.

The green-haired gargoyle continued laughing as his robots, Chuckles; Ms. Glee; and Madame Titter, marched into the room with mechanical precision and took up fighting stances. They wore brown vests over blue mechanics’ uniforms. White painters caps perched on their heads at rakish angles.

Batman and Robin threw Bat-ropes to the overhead catwalks and swung at their waiting opponents. Their boots collided with the robots chests, toppling the automatons like bowling pins. As the heroes dropped to the floor, the robots picked themselves up, and a fierce battle began.

The Dynamic Duo realized the robots were immensely strong as they teamed up on their first opponent. The robot ignored the impact of their fists. Batman and Robin glanced at one another with wide eyes before charging simultaneously and slamming Chuckles into a wall.

Ms Glee and Madam Titter were approaching from behind and wrapped their arms around the heroes when they arrived. Chuckles, apparently unaffected by his collision with the wall, moved toward Robin and swung at the struggling Boy Wonder. Robin ducked his head and Chuckles clobbered Ms. Glee. Batman set his feet as Madam Titter approached him and took her jabbing fist in both hands to pivot into a judo throw and fling her across the room.

The observers moved away from the battle zone and the Joker was distracted from the fight by the young resident, who had begun thrashing in her bonds. “Hey! @#$! Let me loose right now or I’ll–” Her Brooklyn accent had become several shades more pronounced.

The Joker regarded her with bemused interest. “Well, Catwoman, I’m satisfied it works. Can I talk you out of the recipe?”

“It’s a formula, Joker, but you can have it. I’d hate for us to have to keep having these meetings whenever you want more. It will, however, cost you and you’ll get no help loading the chemicals.”

“No problem, Catwoman. It’s a deal.”

“Purr-fect. Vixen, give him the formula.” The curly-haired call girl raised one leg to rest her foot on the captive’s wheelchair. She drew back the hem of her skirt to reveal a laminated page wrapped around her thigh with a pink ribbon.

Vixen untied the ribbon and presented the document. “With my compliments,” she said. As the Joker reached for the document, Vixen stepped forward into his arms and pressed her body against his. She bent her mouth to his and kissed him slowly. The kiss went on and the Joker felt her hands begin sliding down his chest.

The passionate scene served to further incense the woman doctor. She continued to strain against the ropes and shouted, “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?! %^&*! Get me out of this damn chair!!”

The Joker and Vixen both ignored the commotion. “Thank you,” the Joker said as Vixen released him.

“You’re most welcome, Joker.”

These negotiations and the doctor’s colorful interjections had distracted the villains from the Batfight.

The strength and durability of the robots had largely dictated the Dynamic Duo’s tactics. Robin had retreated up a staircase and used his arms to support himself on the railings while he launched both of his feet at Chuckles’ head. The robot toppled and rolled down the stairs.

Batman, meanwhile, found himself between Ms. Glee and Madam Titter. The robots approached and telegraphed their blows. Batman dodged and got them to hit one another with bone-shattering force.

Batman stopped Chuckles from climbing to his feet and saw Robin balancing to leap at him. The Caped Crusader rushed toward the robot and dove at him as Robin leaped. Together, the Dynamic Duo collapsed Chuckles.

“Holy Hardbodies, Batman! Here they come again!” Robin said, breathing heavily. “They don’t weaken or get tired!”

“Yes, but I have a Bat-chemical in my utility belt that increases the weight of metal twenty times. It may be effective.”

“That same trick you used when we exchanged Frontier Fanny for Batgirl!”

“Precisely. I see the Bat-ropes on which we swung in are still hanging where we left them. Let’s maneuver our transistorized opponents in that direction.” Robin nodded and followed his mentor.

Chuckles, Ms. Glee, and Madam Titter followed the Dynamic Duo. Batman and Robin climbed their ropes to the overhead catwalks. When the robots were gathered beneath them, Batman dropped a capsule. When it hit the floor, a plume of smoke was released.

“Now!” Batman said. The Caped Crusaders dropped on the robots and hammered them with the sides of their fists until the mechanical creations collapsed. Stepping back, the heroes shook hands, as the robots found it impossible to stand again.

“We got ‘em, Batman!” Robin enthused.

“Remember, old chum, that the effects of the chemical are only temporary and the robots are quite strong.”

“Yes, Batman, but we should have plenty of time to clean up the human debris.”

The Dynamic Duo turned toward the criminals and began to approach them.

“Now that we’ve dispensed with your ‘men,’ Joker,” Batman said, “it’s your turn.”

“Get me out of here first!” the resident screamed hysterically, “before he tries to use me as a hostage or somethin’!” Robin moved to release her from the wheelchair.

Catwoman caught her hench-kittens’ eyes and began to slowly back from the room, passing Vixen as she retreated. Batman advanced on the green-haired villain and Robin helped the young doctor to her feet.

Vixen handed a control to Catwoman as the voluptuous, villainous trio reached the door.

“Robots,” Catwoman said, “rise and cover our retreat!”

“They’re getting away, Batman!” Robin said.

Very slowly, Ms. Glee and Madam Titter stood on either side of Chuckles and positioned themselves between Catwoman’s entourage and the others.

“Vixen, you stole my robot control microphone!”

“If you want me to steal for you, Joker, you know my rates,” Vixen said.

“Catwoman, won’t you take me with you?” the Joker pleaded.

“I think not. There are three of us, and one of you. The needs of the many are more important than the needs of the one – unless, of course, that one is me. Besides, along with the prisoner, you’re of more interest to our enemies. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you. Au revoir.”

She and her companions turned. “Come on, kittens. Let’s shake a paw. This place offers more than mere chemicals.” Seconds later, they were gone.

As the Dynamic Duo was distracted by Catwoman’s departure, Joker stepped behind the now-freed resident.

“You’ll not harm a hair on her head, Joker,” Batman declared, returning his attention to the young lady’s plight.

“Thank you, Batman,” she said. She stepped away from the Joker, toward the Caped Crusader, and would have collapsed if Batman had not come forward and caught her.

“Are you all right, miss?”

“I’m fine, Batman,” she said as the Dark Knight supported her. Then, her voice took on an edge. “You and Robin are in trouble, though!” She flung a handful of tiny pellets at the floor. Batman and Robin stared at the plume of purple smoke that rose to envelope both of them. They began to laugh. ”I borrowed those from Mr. J, Dynamic Dummies!”

“Quick, Robin,” Batman said between guffaws, “use the Bat-lungs!”

The Joker was also laughing as Robin’s hands frantically searched his utility belt. “Laughing gas!” Robin exclaimed, as he felt his chest begin to quake.

“Our Bat-lungs are gone!” Batman said, through peals of laughter.

“Lookin’ for these?” The former captive presented a Bat-lung to the Green-haired Gargoyle and put one over her own nose and mouth. She was laughing now, too, but not from the nitrous oxide. Her body was quaking with genuine unrestrained mirth. As she laughed, she backed toward the Clown Prince of Crime and felt his arms encircle her. The appropriated Bat-lungs enabled the Joker and the doctor to watch in safely as the laughing gas pellets rendered Batman and Robin utterly helpless.

When it was safe, the girl removed their masks, took the Joker in her arms, and kissed him hard and very slowly. “The Dynamic Duo, Puddin’ – with my compliments.”

“Baby,” the Joker said. “you’re the greatest. Uh, err, what was your name again?”

“Harleen Quinzel. Doctor Harleen Quinzel,” she said proudly. Then she paused and scowled, “But no ‘Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,’ jokes puhlease!”

The Joker and Harleen looked at each other in silence for a beat. Then Quinzel started laughing again, her eyes flashing with manic delight.

The Joker danced her around the room to music only he could hear, then he stopped to unleash a cacophonic crescendo of laughter. When he paused to take a breath, he became suddenly aware his new girl was standing with her head down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked sympathetically.

“Catwoman stole your robots before they could load the chemicals you want. That means we will have to do all that work.”

“Not to worry, my dear doctor,” the Joker said with a delighted laugh. “I had a pretty good idea of what chemicals would be necessary and I knew Catwoman would like my robots . . . so, I had them load up what I thought I would need before the demonstration!” The Joker consulted the laminated piece of paper. “I see I was right! And this gives me the correct proportions!

“Then the joke is on Catwoman!” the beautiful blonde burbled. “You are so smart, Mr. J.” She threw herself into his arms again.

“I know,” he agreed before she was kissing him. When the celebration of the Joker’s intelligence ended, the Mad Mountebank of Mockery looked down into the girl’s sparkling blue eyes and smiled. “It only gets better, you know.”

“It does?” she asked, squeezing him tentatively.

“Yes. Back at my headquarters, I have the master robot control! Once we return there, I can use it to reprogram and retrieve my robots any time I want!” She felt his body quiver with laughter against hers.

“Will you take me back to your headquarters?” she asked hopefully.

“Why, I’d be delighted!”

“Will you take me now?”

“Another delightful suggestion, Harleen. First, however, we have to decide how to employ all these tremendously toxic liquids – to do away with the Dynamic Duo once and for all!”

“Wicked!” He released her and watched her glance around the room. When her gaze returned to him, she shrugged. “What should we do to ‘em?”

He described the required preparations for the Dynamic Duo’s doom with malicious mirth, then enthused, “Come on!”

Shortly thereafter, Batman and Robin hung suspended above a bubbling vat of acid. The Joker surveyed the scene delightedly with his hands on his hips, while his pretty partner in crime stood looking on with her arms around him.

“Comfy, boys?” the Joker asked, laughing.

Neither Batman nor Robin responded.

“It won’t matter for much longer, regardless. Before we leave, I’ll retract the ropes keeping your bodies hanging above this lethal liquid. For a while, you’ll be stretched and racked, but don’t worry. I’ve wound a test tube of acid into the pulleys along with your ropes. As the bindings are drawn tighter, the test tubes will shatter and release their contents. Once released, this acid will begin to eat away at your bonds. It won’t take long for them to be devoured and – then you’ll be free.

“Unfortunately, Newton’s Law will drop you right into the middle of more of the stuff! The two of you will take much longer to be devoured, but you’ll be just as gone afterwards!” The girl joined his malevolent mirth this time. “Farewell, Batman. Goodbye, Robin!”

“Hang in there, you two,” Harleen Quinzel called, “while you can.”

“Miss,” Batman said, “I know you would not be a part of these murderous machinations without the influence of that infernal drug. I urge you to fight its effects!”

“I suppose I should thank you guys,” she said.

“For what?” Robin asked incredulously.

“Well, I’ve been admirin’ Mr. J here from afar for some time now. Why do you think I chose to become a resident at the Gotham State Penitentiary? To study Warden Crichton’s advanced penal theories?”

The Joker laughed uncontrollably. “Now, that is funny!”

“Anyway,” Dr. Quinzel continued, “after I arrived, every now and then he ran away from me to commit more crimes. Most recently, he went out and recruited a bunch of his old girlfriends to help him.” The doctor gave an exaggerated sniff and blew her nose. “None of you have any idea how that escape made me feel. Puddin’, I was so lonely and cold.” The Joker fell silent. Harleen composed herself. “It was all okay, though. Batman and Robin always brought my Puddin’ back to me.”

“Don’t you see your betraying your professional responsibilities?” Batman asked. “Joker needs your help, miss. You may be the one person in the world who is capable of curing him.”

“I know what you’re going through,” Robin explained sympathetically. “I’ve had experience with Cataphrenic. Think about what that drug did to you.”

“Oh, shut up, Boy Blather! I know exactly what that drug did to me! It freed me to be myself!" Robin opened his mouth and closed it again as the Doctor continued.

“My id was out of balance with my superego. The Cataphrenic weakened my superego, finally putting my mind in balance!” The three men looked at the blonde woman, dumbfounded.

“You see, bipolarism runs in my family. My maternal grandmother was the poster child for electroshock therapy in the late 1940s and early 1950s. My mom has been on more medication than a pharmacy and in and out of mental institutions. That’s how I became interested in psychiatry in the first place.

She let out a laugh so wild it even took the Joker aback. “I’ve been able to keep my manic/depressiveness in check, but now, thanks to Cataphrenic, I can be manic all the time!!” Dr. Harleen Quinzel turned to the Joker and grinned wickedly. “Just put yourself in my hands, Puddin’,” she offered. “As soon as we’ve taken care of ‘em, I’ll take good care of you.”

“Promise?” the Joker asked, a little warily.

“Cross my heart.”

“Then, it’s time to make clear to these Dynamic Dumb-Dumbs that we’re up to no good!”

The Joker threw a switch and Dynamic Duo felt their bodies being pulled upward. The sound of shattering glass preceded a shower of shards into the acid beneath the Joker’s victims. The broken pieces of test tube dissolved almost instantly. Twin wisps of smoke began to rise from the ropes above them.

“Holy Whitewash!“ Robin exclaimed.

“Precisely, Boy Blunder,” the Joker taunted, laughing maniacally. “When the acid is finished with the two of you, there’ll be nothing left but bleached bones! Not a shank of your hair will remain!”

“You’ll pay for this, Joker!”

The Joker tore his eyes from his caped captives and regarded his new girl. “I think I’ll be collecting some delightful dividends long before your prediction comes true."

“Puddin’, shouldn’t we back up a little? I’d hate for us to accidentally get splashed by the acid ourselves.”

“My dear, you probably won’t want to see their big splash. It will probably look icky when they dissolve.”

“Are you kiddin’, Mr. J?” Quinzel asked, surprise in her voice. “Cuttin’ up the cadavers was my favorite part of medical school!”

Once again the Joker was surprised by his new moll. “Oh . . . well . . . it’s not a good idea to hang around once a deathtrap has been set into motion. It’s better to have an alibi, or at least not be present at the time of the murder.”

“Then, we have to go?”

“Well, you and I do. Batman and Robin will be staying . . . forever! Say, with luck, we might be able to find their teeth after the acid is finished with them. With their chompers, maybe I can use dental records to unlock their secret identities! Perhaps I could then deduce the identities of the female bats!”

“With that knowledge, you’ll have no difficulty exposing them.”

“What a delightful idea!” the Joker enthused. His blonde companion elbowed him in the ribs. “Oh, I was only kidding, my dear Harleen!”

Dr. Quinzel looked at the suffering crimefighters contemplatively. Suddenly, she brightened. “Hey, that’s it! Ya’ know, boys, in your final moments, you can contemplate what we’re goin’ to do to your girlfriends!” She and the Joker laughed uproariously as he guided her from the room with an arm around her waist and his fingers dancing playfully against her thigh.

Outside, Batgirl hid the Batgirlcycle close to the Axis Chemicals factory. She spotted the Jokermobile parked beside a truck. She felt her lips twitch into a smile as she took a homing device from her belt. She was about to place it beneath the back bumper, when a raucous laughed heralded the arrival of the Jesting Jackanapes. “I’m going to get you, clown,” Batgirl muttered as she melted into a shadow.

The villain pulled his car into the back of the truck and joined the girl who had climbed into the cab. “Soon, Harleen, we’ll have to reconsider that name of yours, but first, the demise of Batman and Robin calls for a celebration!”

“Next time,” Batgirl muttered. The sound of the engine mingled with the criminal couple’s laughter as Batgirl slipped into the factory. “Batman and Robin need help first.”

The smell of the factory gave her no clue as to where the endangered duo was imperiled. She let the lights guide her as she listened for telltale sounds that would lead her to the scene of the attempted murder. She froze when she heard a repetitive creak. The sound continued and Batgirl began to race toward it.

“Swing, Robin! It’s our only chance!” When Batgirl found the Dynamic Duo, they were swinging back and forth like pendulums from a pulley above a bubbling vat of acid.

“Batgirl!” Robin cried.

“Batgirl?” Batman asked.

“Where are the controls, Batman?”

He indicated an elevated platform. “Hurry, Batgirl!” She raced to the foot of a ladder leading to the platform and began to climb. Batman and Robin continued swinging as the arcs of their motions increased. The smoke rising from the pulleys grew darker.

Suddenly, Batman and Robin’s ropes burned through!

Batgirl’s ascent to the controls was now meaningless. She did the only thing that could possibly save her colleagues. She leapt into space above the acid as Batman and Robin plunged toward their bubbling doom.

In midair, her shoulder hit Robin and thrust him into Batman. Their only hope was for Batgirl’s momentum to carry them over the edge of the bubbling vat. She held her breath.

She landed on top of the Dynamic Duo on the floor a split second later.

“Thank you, Batgirl!” Robin said. “You really saved our bacon this time!”

“It’s my pleasure, Robin.”

“You’ve arrived in the nick of time, Batgirl,” Batman praised. “Do you have any idea what Joker is planning?”

“I think he and his companion were off to celebrate your fate. They left in a truck just as I arrived.”

As the Terrific Trio spoke, they got to their feet. Batman and Robin pulled bindings away from their wrists.

Robin pounded his fist into his palm. “I’ll bet he stole the chemicals he’ll need to make more Cataphrenic!”

“Cataphrenic?!” Batgirl cried. “Oh, no!” The drug, in combination with the Psyche-Eggchange Machine and the hypnotic power of the Cat's Eye Jade, had once turned Batgirl into Catwoman.

“Yes, Batgirl, I’m afraid so,” Batman said.

“Did Joker use it on the girl?”

“Catwoman did, as a means of demonstration,” Robin explained.

“There’s no telling what Joker will do with that drug,” Batgirl said tersely.

“Catwoman exchanged it for the robots Joker used to escape from prison,” Batman said. “Her plans are of equal and perhaps greater concern.”

“Doesn’t Axis Chemicals give its employees cash bonuses tomorrow?” Batgirl asked.

“Holy Hurried Heist!” Robin exclaimed. “With those robots under her command, the robbery will be like taking candy from a baby for a thief like Catwoman.”

“Don’t forget Vixen,” Batgirl reminded them. “She could crack the security measures they installed here like an eggshell.”

“Gosh yes,” Robin agreed, “and speaking of eggshells, Egghead is on the loose, too!”

“As are many others, Robin. Let’s concentrate on the matters at hand,” Batman admonished. “Catwoman said this place offered more than just chemicals. Let’s go!” They raced toward the loading docks and encountered a large, circular door opening where a thick, metal door hung at an awkward angle from hinges twisted like pretzels.

Batgirl stepped inside and shined her tiny Batlight around the interior of the vault. “It’s empty,” she reported. “That’s impossible!”

“What’s that?” Robin pointed to something on the floor Batgirl’s light had chanced to illuminate.

Batgirl crouched and carefully drew her fingers over the things Robin had noticed. “Good question, Robin. I’m not sure.”

“I found the lights,” Batman reported as he flicked them on. He glanced at the metal bumps Batgirl was examining. “They’re broken bolts.”

“Three sets of four,” Robin said thoughtfully. “Three things were bolted to the floor here.”

“There could have been safes inside this vault,” Batgirl said.

“How could they have been ripped off of these bolts?” Robin asked. Then he hit himself on the forehead with his palm. “The robots!”

“Exactly, Robin,” Batman agreed. “The inner safes were probably too strong for even the robots to break into . . . so Catwoman simply stole them! The robots tore each safe from the floor so the crooks could open it later, at their leisure.”

“Not only does she get the money,” Batgirl observed, “but also a chance to instruct Eenie in safecracking.”

“Holy Headmistress!” Robin exclaimed. “Catwoman’s crime school is back in session! She took the robots to pull this job.”

“Doesn’t this, though, seem like a crime of opportunity?” Batman asked. “Joker and Catwoman came here to make their evil exchange. The accident of the meeting place gave Catwoman the chance to do this.”

“Unless, of course, Catwoman chose the location. Do you imagine Joker would choose to come back here?”

“You may be right, Batgirl,” Batman mused.

“Maybe a session with the Batcomputer will help us make sense of all this,” Robin suggested.

“Good thinking, old chum! To the Batcycle!”

“What exactly happened to the Batmobile?” the Caped Cutie asked. “The Commissioner mentioned you had some sort of car trouble.”

“Joker had his robots pull the wheels off the Batmobile. They did extensive damage to the axles in the process. We managed to drive to the Batcave with the help of the Bat-Automatically-Deploying-Spare-Tires, but had to ship the car to George Barris, the Kustom Car King, to have the undercarriage rebuilt.”

“Wow!” Batgirl exclaimed. “The Bat-Rolodex is even more impressive than I thought!” Batman shrugged modestly. “Well, I’ll go on patrol and see what I can sniff out. Keep in touch.” The crimefighters nodded to one another, then went their separate ways.

At that very moment, the scent of crime was on the wind at the Gotham City Zoo.

“The Gotham City Historical Society,” Catwoman began, “is touting the display of several Persian items around town. I’ve decided to explore the value of these items by stealing them and trying to sell them back to the Society, its more filthy rich individual members, or to unscrupulous collectors I learned about when I was working with Sandman.”

“So, what’s on display here at the zoo, boss?” Eenie asked.

“White Persian tigers,” the Feline Fiend responded.

“I’ll bet they’re worth a pretty penny,” Vixen ventured.

“They are, and they’ll do a job on certain rodents, should they try to interfere with my plans. Do you have your tranquilizers?”

“Won’t Joker have dealt with Batman and Robin?” Vixen asked.

“I’ve seen him try to deal with them before. Don’t hold your breath.”

“You know,” the curly haired call girl mused, “so have I.”

“I’ve prepared the tranquilizers,” Eenie announced.

“Good. Use only one dart for each tiger. Let’s get them.” Eenie and Vixen nodded. Catwoman and her hench-kittens crept toward the tiger cage and aimed at its occupants carefully. The darts fired softly and impaled the tigers. “Purr-fect,” the black-clad, blonde lawbreaker purred as the great cats lay still. “Eenie, start the van. Vixen, open the back.”

As the hench-kittens obeyed, Catwoman took the robot control microphone Vixen had taken from the Joker and spoke into it. “Robots, report to the cage.”

With mechanical precision, Chuckles, Ms. Glee, and Madam Titter approached.

“Bend these bars apart and take the tigers to the van.” The robots obeyed and Catwoman followed them. She and Vixen closed the van doors on the robots, the great cats, and the enormous metal boxes the robots had literally ripped from the floor of Axis Chemicals’ vault.

“Anything else, boss?” Vixen asked.

“No. You’ll drive me in the Kitty Car back to the Catlair. I’ll join you in a moment.” She walked to the driver’s side door of the van. Eenie saw her coming and lowered the window. “Take the robot control microphone in case we get separated in town.”

“Sure, boss.”

“In that event, I want the lair prepared when I arrive. Have the robots help you set things up.” The Conniving Kitten explained the preparations at length. “Got it?”

“Yes, boss. Leave it to me.”

“Purr-fect,” Catwoman said. She turned to join her delectable driver in the Kitty Car as Eenie pulled away in the van.

Batgirl cruised the streets of Gotham City in the familiar patrol pattern developed over the years. Batgirl smiled as a young woman who had bent toward a car straightened and walked away, drawing her coat more closely around her. A few blocks away, the Purple Paragon watched a group of young men enter a convenience store. The one who had lingered outside stepped through the door as Batgirl appeared. A minute later, the group dispersed.

Not too long ago, her presence would not have caused the fear that kept citizens safe from petty crime. The Dark Knight Damsel, though, had delivered a series of object lessons that earned her respect and sent waves of quivering terror through the ranks of petty criminals, rendering them utterly impotent and making the public safer.

Batgirl did not take the time to bask in the pleasure of watching her presence act as a deterrent to crime. She was hunting the Joker and Catwoman, alert for the slightest sign of the villains or their distinctive vehicles.

Suddenly, a van pulled around a corner in front of her and the Kitty Car followed almost immediately. Batgirl sped forward.

“Batgirl is behind us,” Vixen reported.

“Get away from the van!” Catwoman ordered. The vehicles in front of Batgirl separated and the Angelic Avenger continued pursuing the Kitty Car. “Purr-fect. Let her follow us into Robinson Park. Then, get her!”

“You got it, boss.” Vixen accelerated and smiled as Batgirl maintained the distance behind them. “I don’t understand,” Vixen said quietly. She shrugged. “It’s impossible, but undeniably true.”

Suddenly, Catwoman made it clear Vixen had not been as quiet as the hench-kitten might have thought. “What are you muttering about?” Catwoman demanded, glancing at the Batgirlcycle in the rearview mirror.

“Before the exchange, Batgirl paid a call on Eenie and me. We made arrangements to detain her, permanently.”

“Apparently,” Catwoman said, deadpan, “they didn’t work.”

“Apparently.” Vixen turned into Robinson Park, with Batgirl still following. “The plan was mostly Eenie’s. Still, I didn’t see any reason it shouldn’t have worked.”

“The bats can be like that,” Catwoman said philosophically. Then she laughed. “For some time now, I’ve had in mind a little game I’d like to play with Batgirl.” The Feline Felon stretched her arms and contentedly purred. Anticipating. ‘In the end, Batgirl will lose.’

The Kitty Car roared along a winding, tree-lined road and turned down a lane Vixen quickly realized ended in a cul-de-sac. The hench-kitten braked, spun the wheel, and deftly skidded the Kitty Car around one hundred, eighty degrees.

“Now, I’ve got you,” Batgirl said when the Kitty Car turned down the blind alley. The screech of rubber on asphalt sounded ahead of Batgirl, who soon found she was hurtling at the oncoming Kitty Car as a grinning Vixen accelerated toward her. 'I’d been wondering why Vixen left her lights on,' Batgirl chided herself. 'This is a trap!' There was no room to swerve out of the way. Batgirl wrenched her handlebars upward and felt the Batgirlcycle drawn over the hood of the Kitty Car.

“Now, we’ve got her,” Vixen said, flashing her boss a wicked grin. As the back wheel of the Batgirlcycle climbed onto the hood of the Kitty Car, Vixen wrenched the wheel viciously and sent the bike and its ravishing rider hurtling into the trees beside the road. The car stopped, the roof and its attached doors raised and the voluptuous visions of villainy climbed out onto the street.

A dazed Batgirl was slowly extricating herself from the wreckage her Batgirlcycle had made of the foliage. “Take her, Vixen!”

“With pleasure!” The younger criminal advanced on the emerging heroine and sank into a fighting crouch. The combatants waited, their eyes adjusting to indirect light the Kitty Car’s headlights provided. Batgirl inhaled, let out a breath, and leaped at her opponent. Vixen seized Batgirl’s wrist as her opponent launched a punch and spun, sending her adversary to the ground hard. “This is going to be fun,” the wanton warrior said as Batgirl gasped. She approached the fallen vigilante and launched a vicious kick at Batgirl’s jaw.

Batgirl suddenly whipped her leg at Vixen’s ankle, felling Vixen and eliciting a surprised, dismayed cry. Batgirl sprang on top of the criminal call girl and slammed the hench-kitten’s head into the pavement.

Vixen groaned as the hardened side of her hand connected with the side of Batgirl’s neck. Both combatants slumped. They recovered almost simultaneously, but Vixen reached her feet first. “We fought evenly again, Batgirl,” she said. Then she jumped, spun, and brought her heel into the side of Batgirl’s head with bone-shattering force. The stunned heroine moaned. The Curved Crusader’s rising body collapsed, slumping unconscious and remaining still. “Well, almost.” As the victorious combatant gazed balefully at her victim, Catwoman clapped her hands spontaneously.

“Well done, Vixen. Now, make sure.” Vixen glanced at her leader and saw the tranquilizer gun in her extended hand. The hench-kitten took the weapon, aimed, and fired. Batgirl would now remain unconscious for hours.

“Put her in the car,” Catwoman ordered. The Feline Felon entered the tattered foliage and emerged, seated regally on the Batgirlcycle. “Follow me back to the lair.”

Vixen unceremoniously dumped Batgirl into the passenger seat of the Kitty Car and followed her leader.

When Batgirl revived, she was alone. Her head hurt. When she opened her eyes, she found she was looking up into the lens of a camera. She sat up and rubbed her head gingerly. Inspecting her surroundings, she realized she was seated on the floor of an empty room. A closed door seemed to be the only thing standing between her and freedom.

“That’s odd,” she murmured. She was not bound and had not been deprived of her utility belt or anything else. “What’s your game, Catwoman?”

“Don’t you want to find out, Batgirl?” Catwoman’s voice purred from a hidden speaker. “Open the door and we’ll play.” The Fiendish Feline began to laugh.

“I’ll play your game, Catwoman, and you will lose.”

“You forget, Batgirl, that you are the mouse and I am the cat.” Catwoman’s voice dropped into a low chuckle.

“In that case, the hunter is about to become the hunted.”

“I beg to differ,” Catwoman purred. “Come out and play with me and we shall see what happens."

“As you wish,” Batgirl said and cautiously opened the door, which oddly had not been locked. Carefully, she stepped into a long, dimly lighted corridor with no visible doors.

Suddenly, a bang behind her made Batgirl whirl. She found the door she had just used had slammed. Testing it, she discovered it was now locked. As she turned back, a black sphere from which a lit fuse protruded was flying toward her. Instinctively, Batgirl dove to the ground and covered her head.

Nothing happened.

Batgirl looked and saw no shrapnel, carbon smudges, rubble, or any other signs of the explosion she had expected. She turned her head and spotted a wisp of smoke rising from the black sphere beside her on the floor. She reached for the sphere and froze. It was soft.

She could smell the smoke as she removed her cape and used it to smother the burning ball. “Black yarn, Catwoman?”

“It was the purr-fect illusion. I launched it with a catapult; and it gives me the first point,” the voluptuous villainess said. “Now, it’s time to earn the second. Bombs away!”

The floor fell away beneath Batgirl, sending her sliding along a steeply sloped passage. Catwoman’s laughter echoed in the chute that deposited Batgirl on her backside in a cage, the bottom of which was suspended some four feet in the air. Outside the cage, the Princess of Plunder waited, watching her prey with wicked glee.

“Your sense of humor leaves me cold, Catwoman!” Batgirl said, reaching up and touching the top of the cage. It was barely tall enough to allow the captive crimefighter to kneel.

“Nevertheless, it was nice of you to drop in.”

“You still aren’t funny!”

“You’re a tough audience. It’s just as well you’re in the heart of my catacombs, having literally fallen into my trap! Well, kittens, what do you think?”

“I think it’s hilarious, boss,” Eenie said.

“I’d like to see Batgirl laugh this situation off,” Vixen agreed.

Catwoman let out a yowl while her hench-kittens laughed.

“What are you going to do with me, Catwoman?”

“You and I have things to settle, Batgirl,” the Princess of Plunder proclaimed.

“If you think for one minute I’m going to declare you the winner of that stupid contest–-”

“La Esclavage Reine, the Bondage Queen,” Catwoman purred dreamily. “I imagined you had been reluctant to bestow the title upon me since I’d not given you the opportunity to experience my latest techniques. I think the time we spent together in the Gotham State Penitentiary should have convinced you of my supremacy.”

Catwoman smiled as Batgirl’s face darkened. They both recalled how Catwoman had arranged for the Dominoed Daredoll to be smuggled into her prison cell . . . confined inside a mattress!

“I’ve added that experience to your list of offenses, which begins with the cowardly way you planned to have me cut into a purrfect pinafore in order to keep Batman from stopping one of your robberies. I recall being bound in your Cat’s Whiskers--twice. You and Vixen left me in the St. Bartholomew’s Cathedral reliquary to be entombed in wax. You tried to have your giant, black cat tear out my heart. You’ve threatened to flay me alive. Oh, and we mustn’t forget. You stole my body! Whatever I may have done to upset you, you deserved it . . . and much more.”

“Shall we examine the other side of the ledger?”

“In front of your kittens?”

Catwoman glared and hissed at her curvaceous captive. “To open my catalog, you once delivered me to the police, hogtied with my own whip.”

“You should have heard what the police were saying about that for the next few weeks,” Batgirl said with a mischievous smile.

“I can imagine. There is also the small matter of making my pet cat, Hecate, charge into a telephone pole at top speed.”

“She wasn’t herself at the time. It wouldn’t have been necessary if you hadn’t turned her into a giant and had her trying to kill me.”

“Hecate charged into that pole headfirst!” Catwoman complained plaintively.

“I didn’t train her to chase your laser pointer with murderous intent,” Batgirl pointed out.

“I haven’t finished!” Catwoman cut in. “Following your handling of Hecate, you arranged for me to sleep on the cold, hard floor of my cell for the majority of my imprisonment!”

Batgirl decided arguing would be pointless. “It’s clear we’re unhappy with one another. The question is, what are you going to try to do about it?”

“I’ll answer that, since you ask,” the black-clad, blonde beauty said. “You hardly sound apologetic, Batgirl!”

“Why should I?” Batgirl demanded.

Catwoman leaned close to the cage. “I’m going to give you a few pointers. Look up.”

“At what?” Instead of answering, the Feline Fiend made a gesture and Batgirl’s eyes widened seconds later.

The whine of a motor sounded as several sharp, pointy claws deployed above Batgirl with an ominous click. She immediately dropped to her back. “You’re an itch I intend to scratch, Batgirl. The relief will be purr-menant.” As the Pulchritudinous Predator purred, Batgirl felt the platform upon which she lay begin to slowly rise.

“This is hardly original.”

“Who cares? I want results. You will remain here forever, Batgirl, or at least, bits of you will!”

“You’ve tried that before!” As Batgirl spoke, Catwoman grinned at her, noting how her body was pressed against the bottom of the cage. Batgirl had flattened herself and was taking extremely shallow breaths to keep the tips of the sharp claws from impaling her.

The platform rose inexorably and Batgirl held her breath as the sharp talons grew closer and closer. Light glinted from the curved, cruel claws, as Batgirl felt she could hold her breath no longer. She exhaled as slowly as possible, trying to wrest every atom of oxygen from the air within her lungs. The platform stopped rising as Batgirl’s last breath emptied, leaving her chest less than a millimeter beneath the deadly tips of the claws.

“Now,” Catwoman purred delightedly. "As soon as you inhale–”

“No,” Batgirl managed to croak with her last vestiges of wind. She reached up and tried to spread her fingers around the claws and push herself away. Intellectually, she knew it would never work. Her tremendous-looking torturer would win. Catwoman’s cruel claws were about to rend her into a bloody mess. As soon as she breathed in, the claws would tear through her costume and rip into her flesh.

Vixen and Eenie were laughing delightedly, but quietly, unable to contain their mirth as they anticipated Batgirl’s end. Catwoman stood on her tip-toes and let her lips brush the heroine’s ear. “Breathe,” the villainess whispered.

Batgirl held out for a minute . . . then two. A person usually holds one’s breath with the lungs full. Batgirl’s were devoid of air. Finally, her iron will cracked. Her body’s need for oxygen overwhelmed her self-discipline. She inhaled.

The claws bent as Batgirl’s breasts pressed against them!

“They’re made of rubber!”

“Scary, weren’t they?” Catwoman asked. “You know, you really should have compared crimefighing notes with the boys. Now, of course, it’s much too late.” The Happy Hellcat was purring with pleasure as she gloated and made a noise that might have been a meow.

Batgirl glared at her captors. She seemed about to say something, but remained silent.

“You’re no fun, Batgirl,” Catwoman declared. “Let’s go on to the next phase!”

Suddenly, Batgirl felt the bottom of the cage drop away. The some six foot drop onto a short rectangular platform below caused Batgirl to yelp involuntarily before she landed with a painful smack and an agonized groan. Before Batgirl could move, Vixen and Eenie stepped forward with aerosol cans and liberally sprayed Batgirl’s body and the surface upon which it lay.

“Is nothing sacred to you devils?” Batgirl demanded, once the spray had subsided.

“Not a thing, Batgirl,” Vixen admitted.

“Why do you ask?” posed Eenie.

“I thought that you, Catwoman, fancied yourself something of a conservationist. Aerosol cans have been demonstrably proven to harm the environment!”

“On your behalf, Batgirl, I’m willing to make the sacrifice,” Catwoman replied. Then she gestured to her lovely lackeys. “Kittens.”

“That’s liquid cement, Batgirl,” Vixen revealed.

“The boss wants you to stick around . . . purr-manently,” Eenie added.

The hench-kittens laughed with malicious glee as the Princess of Plunder inspected their handiwork. “Purr-fect,” Catwoman praised, “but I’ve changed my mind. Forever is a long time to keep anyone around. Kittens, release Tinkerbell.”

Vixen and Eenie went to the nearest wall and pulled up a panel. They then flattened themselves against the wall as a tiger leapt at Batgirl with a roar and outstretched forepaws!

The liquid cement held Batgirl in position. Her muscles tensed as she stared at the great cat in open-mouthed horror. Miraculously, the tiger remained poised above her. It was waiting . . . eying her like a piece of meat.

Seconds crawled by as Batgirl stared into the great cat’s eyes. The villains watched her in delighted, silent anticipation as she slowly realized how long Tinkerbell had remained rigidly immobile in midair. Batgirl risked exhaling and kept her gaze locked on Tinkerbell. Then, she took another breath and, with the loudest shout she could produce, yelled, “BOO!”

Nothing happened!

“It’s stuffed!” Batgirl exclaimed. Then she swore and her face grew red as Eenie and Vixen joined Catwoman in a fresh burst of uproarious laughter. “The roar was a recording!”

“Tsk, tsk, Batgirl,” Catwoman admonished. “What would all the little girls and their parents who hold you up as a role model – to say nothing of Batman – think of such language?”

“Enough, Catwoman!” Batgirl raged.

“You know, I once almost fed Robin to Tinkerbell and some of her friends,” Catwoman said wistfully. Her voice became distant, almost melancholy. “It’s rather a pity, no matter how well you take care of them, pets don’t last forever.”

Batgirl was unimpressed by Catwoman’s show of sentimentality. “If you’re going to kill me, get on with it!”

The spell broken, Catwoman returned to her confident, dominating self. “Your wish, Batgirl, is my command.” She laughed and suddenly spun toward her minions. “Vixen! Throw the switch!” A motor hummed softly as the platform to which Batgirl was stuck began to slowly descend.

“Did you hear about my latest crime?” Catwoman asked cagily.

“You stole safes from the vault at Axis Chemicals,” Batgirl declared.

“You’re a crime behind,” Catwoman revealed. “I stole the Gotham City Zoo’s three white, Persian tigers. Unlike poor Tinkerbell here, they are quite alive and I’m about to give you a unique opportunity to examine the merchandise very, very closely.”

“Thank you for confessing to the crimes.”

“My confession will be of little use to you. I’m afraid these tigers will treat you like a chew toy or purr-haps breakfast when that platform’s descent is complete. Eenie, release the cats!”

Batgirl turned her attention from the voluptuous villainess to the white tigers milling around beneath her after their cages opened. She stared at them fearfully.

“Batgirl is served,” Eenie said, giggling. “I’m sure they’ll find Batgirl tartare delicious.”

“You’re so right, Eenie,” Vixen agreed with a delighted laugh. Then the call girl frowned and turned to Catwoman. “You know, boss, back when we hid out at that church, we tried to preserved Batgirl in wax forever. Won’t the cement do the same job and protect her?”

“No, Vixen. Batgirl hasn’t been sprayed with enough cement for that. She remains quite vulnerable to the tigers’ claws and teeth. Part of me wishes we could stay and watch them play with their food, but another wants to remember Batgirl just as she is.” Catwoman turned from the doomed damsel, paused, looked back over her shoulder, and touched her fingertips to her lips. “Goodbye, my little mouse,” she said, blowing a kiss at Batgirl.

Eenie and Vixen remained, transfixed by the sight of the helpless heroine descending toward certain death.

“Come, kittens. More Persian treasures await and I want Eenie to learn the art of practical safecracking, since we have those three lucrative specimens upon which she can practice.”

“I can’t decide which is more tasty,” Eenie remarked, imbuing her voice with a dreamy quality. “Soon, I’ll get my paws on a ton of money and learn how to purr-loin so much more that I won’t need anyone to take care of me. Alternatively, Batgirl is about to become a human delicacy that will never be served again.”

Vixen laughed. “Batgirl, bon appetite.” She favored Batgirl with a nod and Eenie let her lips curl into a genuine smile before the perfidious pair stepped out of Batgirl’s sight.

The motor went on humming as the platform on which the tigers’ meal waited to die continued its slow, inexorable descent.

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