Ma Parker’s Coronation

Batgirl had won the brief verbal battle, but had to admit the inevitability of her eventual entombment troubled her.

Every inch of the front of her costume was wet now. She was sinking far too rapidly.

The young Ma Parker was one of the few evildoers to have captured Batgirl and proceeded to use the proportions of her beautiful body against her. Most would have left her lying on her back, but, on her chest, her breasts thrust more deeply into the gelatin than her shoulders would have. Thus, she would die all the more quickly.

Also, her own dead weight would drag her into the depths of the whirlpool, where she was intended to drown. Gravity was the key to this sinister scenario and she could not fight the laws of physics.. She turned her head to one side and lowered it to the surface of the gelatin in despair. Soon, Ma Parker’s plans for her would be complete--very soon.

Batgirl was doomed!

Just as the resigned breath left her mouth, she saw something that revived her spirits and rekindled a spark of hope inside her.

The utility belt Ma Parker had left near her hand moved.

Impossible.

It couldn’t be. Realization struck Batgirl with the force of a thunderbolt. Ma Parker’s hot lights had liquefied the gelatin near them, thus creating semisolid islands closer to Batgirl’s body. Her belt with the precious capsules it held rested on one such island.

Now, her task was to move the island and the belt to within reach.

The prize lay a bare inch from her extended fingers. Batgirl’s arm was still very heavy. Her breasts were totally immersed now. If she were to move her belt, she had to do so immediately. Failure would mean death.

She inhaled, raised her head, and slammed it downward violently. She heard the soft splash as her face descended into the gelatin. Fortunately, her outstretched, immobilized arms prevented her head from sinking as deeply into the semisolid redness as it might have otherwise. She pulled her head back and inhaled desperately. The belt had moved, but stopped at her elbow.

In one way, her belt was now further out of reach, however, Batgirl didn’t imagine she would be able to use her hand to retrieve the capsules. She would have to use her teeth. For that, the belt would need to be closer. It was half way there.

As she craned her neck to look at where the belt lay in relation to her head and arm, she felt her hips sink deeper into the gelatin. "No!" she said fearfully and tried to bend her knees. Her legs twitched spasmodically and she felt her thighs sink lower. "Oh, God," she muttered as she realized friction would also heat the gelatin and hasten her doom.

She looked directly at her belt and again threw her head into the gelatin With her head submerged, Batgirl wondered if it would be possible to cause her pelvis to sink lower in the gelatin than her shoulders. To this end, she whipped her head back, inhaling deeply as she came up for air. Simultaneously, she felt her head brush against something metallic. She was distracted momentarily as she felt the backs of her thighs descend into the gelatin. "It at least half worked," Batgirl said, letting herself breathe more normally. She glanced down and saw it was possible to reach her belt with her mouth. "Yes!"

Batgirl bent her neck and took the belt in her mouth. She rotated it and let it settle into place on the gelatin. Now, she could open the compartment holding the capsules Ma Parker had predicted she would employ. Two pills fell onto the surface of the gelatin and Batgirl slurped them up. Now it was time to wait and let the capsules she had taken weaken the muscle relaxants the men had used to turn every muscle in each of her limbs into unresponsive putty. If she didn’t drown in the meantime, there was hope she would go on living. She would have to remain very still.

As she waited for the effects of the antidote to become apparent, she considered the two unstoppable forces she was battling: gravity and time.

Gravity was frequently the means to villains’ deadly ends in these perilous predicaments. Batgirl recalled how she and Daily Planet reporter Lois Lane had been about to be served to a batch of flesh-eating bacteria beneath the retracting floor of a special room at the Hexagon by Iraqi terrorist Ayesha Ladula; how Albanian genius Eivol Ekdal had tried to bury she, Batwoman, and Batman with mud in freshly dug graves; how Simon the Pieman had encased her in a pumpkin shell in preparation for dropping her down a well, and left her under intense pressure intended to generate piezoelectricity; how Shame, the Conniving Cowboy of Crime, had bound her as a flatbed wagon’s only passenger on a one-way trip half-way across a ruined bridge; how King Tut and his capable Chief Torturer had tried to drive her insane using the ancient Theban pebble torture; and how Catwoman and Vixen had arranged for her to be entombed in wax melted from an enormous candle in the reliquary of Saint Bartholomew Cathedral. These were only a few of the examples that flashed through her mind. The cat-trap nearly led to her entombment and she realized a similar fate was unfolding for her now in Ma Parker’s gelatin-filled whirlpool. Her legs had now entirely submerged.

Time had most memorably been her enemy when Clock King had compelled her to circle a gigantic clock face in time with the passing seconds, to supposedly prevent a bomb from blowing she and the Dynamic Duo to bits. Joker had enabled her to watch what he had intended to be her final moments tick away second by precious second as she waited to be pulled apart by his gigantic jack-in-the-box. Other actions the Clown Prince of Crime had taken on that occasion still angered Batgirl. She felt her fingers curl into a fist as she remembered the treatment she had literally received at his thugs’ hands. Then she stared at her clenched fist.

The shock of the realization she had just curled her helplessly splayed fingers into a fist entranced her, until she felt the warmth of Ma Parker’s liquefied gelatin envelope her calves and glutes. Only her arms, head, shoulders, and the soles of her feet remained above the level of the crimson pool!

As she began to recall how her capsules had enabled her to begin to experience the lingering pain of the torture she had endured at Ma Parker’s henchwomen’s hands, the implications of the warmth surrounding her body began to impress themselves upon her.

With the majority of her body weight below the surface of the gelatin, the danger of drowning quickly had been minimized. Batgirl, however, knew her legs would eventually descend to the bottom and the rest of her body would settle on top of them. In this process, her head would become submerged and the death Ma Parker had planned for her would proceed.

She had begun to notice the effects of the capsules she had taken. By now the muscle relaxants were punishing her periodic experimental movements with lingering numbness and an occasional ache. Batgirl welcomed these sensations, because they told her both movement and, by extension, escape were now possible.

"Time to go," she said, stretching and gripping the edge of the whirlpool. She felt the adrenaline the danger of her predicament had generated kick in as she surged from the whirlpool like a purple wave. As her body tumbled to the floor and came to rest, she realized how essential the adrenaline had been to her escape.

Her muscles were far from ready to support her body weight. Worse, she was exhausted. Safe, but still quite helpless, she remained motionless as sleep claimed her.

Batgirl’s recuperative powers might, if the media were allowed to know how much damage she took fighting crime on occasions like those chronicled here, be considered extraordinary, or, at the very least, amazing. As it was, she was widely reported to be in wonderful shape, which was obviously noticeable.

Much later she moaned, as she began to become aware of how awful she felt. "Oh, God, I must be a mess." She opened her eyes and slowly tried to stand. She winced as she crawled on her hands and knees to the now liquid-filled whirlpool. With a deep breath, she reached up and pulled herself to her knees. She waited for the pounding in her head to stop before putting one foot flat on the floor. "Okay," she said after a pause and stood.

She blinked as she stared into the crimson contents of the whirlpool and spotted her belt. She bent, paused, blinked several times until her head cleared, then reached in to retrieve the belt. "Right," she said. "Take it slow, girl." After a confidence building pause, Batgirl walked to a sink at the sideboard and began to clean the sticky goop off of her belt. When she finished, she slipped the second belt around her waist and took a drink of water. She then retrieved her cape and fastened it around her neck.

Feeling much better, she allowed herself about fifteen minutes to stretch out. Her routine was efficient, yet thorough, and when she had finished, she felt comparatively marvelous.

"Now, to get the film from that camera as evidence and look around," Batgirl said. She searched the premises swiftly, missing nothing. Half an hour later, she had learned where Ma Parker planned to get married. The timing of the ceremony would, of course, depend on how quickly she and her gang could make their preparations. "I’ll have to hurry if I’m going to stop the ceremony." On her way to her Batgirl cycle, the Curvy Crimefighter was dialing her cell phone.

The uniquely appropriate setting Ma Parker had chosen for her wedding proved to be a medieval-looking castle, several miles north of Gotham City.

Batgirl pulled to a stop outside the outer wall. "I’ll have to remember to upgrade the shocks." Riding away after escaping certain death was becoming more and more uncomfortably bumpy. She dismounted and threw her Batrope to the top of the wall. After a short Batclimb, she was looking critically at the deserted parade grounds between the inner and outer walls. "It’s just as well the people who built this place didn’t bother with a moat," Batgirl remarked as she sent her rope to the top of the second wall and slid across.

She repeated the maneuver and crouched behind a gargoyle on the roof of the castle itself. "Better hurry." Soundlessly, she slipped across the rooftop, verifying the wedding would take place in an open, central courtyard. She positioned herself on her stomach and crawled forward so she could observe the criminals’ preparations without casting a shadow into the courtyard or being seen from below.

She looked down and across the courtyard into a set of open double stained-glass doors, which gave access to the altar area of a chapel. Stone steps led down to the courtyard where wooden benches were arranged facing the altar. A podium had been placed on one side of the dais.

Batgirl heard footsteps below, before two female voices she recognized drifted up to her.

"You’ve been here before?" Undine was asking.

"Oh, many times," Vixen said with a low chuckle. "This mysterious Swiss group had this place built very recently. I think they were a cult or something. Anyway, the men hired out professionals like me to entertain them. There were a few women in the group, but they had several muscular, Aryan-looking workmen to cherry-pick from."

"How nice for them. So, what happened after construction was finished?"

"I guess whoever was in charge showed up, because business dropped off."

"And this cult just abandoned it?"

"Apparently. Though, I can’t imagine why. It has everything we’ll need for awhile. That’s why I suggested it to Ma Parker and her mother."

"Speaking of Ma Parker, I have a question. Why do you suppose she asked us to pick henchmen for her husband? You could have introduced her to The Joker or some other arch criminal," Undine said.

"You were standing right there when Chickadee slugged The Joker. If she had wanted him, Legs would have put a stop to that. The idea of Joker getting married is almost as outrageous as . . . ." Vixen paused and laughed.

"If it's outrageous, The Joker might just do it for a laugh," Undine said.

"Okay, would you marry him?"

"No, would you?"

"No way! He'd make me retire. I'm not even thirty!" Vixen said.

"What about The Penguin?"

"I’ve never been able to find The Penguin. I haven't worked for him, yet."

"Vixen, why do you want to work for every arch criminal in Gotham City?"

"It's fun. Who said anything about just Gotham City? Can you imagine how well Lex Luthor pays?"

"I suppose there would be other fringe benefits as well. Okay, let's say I had a choice between Egghead and The Riddler."

Vixen laughed. "It all depends on whether you want the questions or the answers. Which of them do you think Legs would choose?"

"I think she'd crack Egghead on their wedding night. He seems so fragile and there are only so many times The Riddler could ask her to riddle him something before she'd pull out one of her choppers and oblige him.” Undine flashed a wry smile. “She's too young to be a black widow. Besides, spiders are creepy."

"You're probably right, Undine. Can you think of a major villain around town who would willingly take a back seat to Legs?"

"Well, Grandma Parker did."

"Besides her," Vixen said, grinning.

"Not really."

"Neither can I."

The rest of their conversation was lost to Batgirl. Undine, still wearing her trademark white bikini, seemed bent on flaunting her body in front of Vixen, a known switch-hitter. Whatever the circumstances, it appeared certain Undine and Vixen had become fast friends.

Eventually, Vixen left, while Undine lingered in the courtyard, leaning with her back against a castle wall, her eyes closed, smiling. Whether she was reliving some past experience or fantasizing about a future encounter, Batgirl couldn’t say.

Batgirl considered dropping into the courtyard to begin quietly dispatching gang members, one by one, however, Batgirl immediately rejected that course of action. Despite Undine's lack of fighting prowess, Batgirl realized she would be unlikely to take Undine down quickly or quietly enough to prevent an alarm from being raised.

Carefully, she backed up and stood where she would not be detected from below. She began seeking a route to the interior of the castle. The lock of the door Batgirl found yielded quickly to her tiny tool. She descended the stone staircase beyond it soundlessly to begin exploring.

The hall Batgirl traversed was lined with small rooms with rude bunks and footlockers. "Like a monastery," she murmured and moved on. She stepped through a door at the end of the hall as quietly as a wraith and froze. Voices echoed from nearby corridors.

"I hope the work is to your liking," a woman said with a French accent.

"You’ve done very well, Madame," Ma Legs Parker said. "I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name."

"Her name is Marie," the young mother’s mother, Grandma Parker, said.

"Oh, yes. Of course."

"Please," Marie said, hesitantly, "now that I have made the alterations for you; your bridesmaids; the groom; his groomsmen; and your mother, may I go?"

"You don’t want to stay for my wedding? Your work will be admired."

"I do not approve of the manner in which I was brought here," Marie said, matter of factly. "You robbed my employer’s shop; stole dresses, material, tools, money, and some more personal items; kidnaped me; kept me awake working; and continue to hold me against my will after I’ve finished."

"Perhaps you’re right. You have worked very hard, after all." Ma Parker’s words made the hapless woman inhale expectantly. Hope was building within her. "Moth, take Marie back to her cell where she can get some rest."

"Let’s go!" Moth said, heartlessly. Marie’s shoulders were quivering as the blonde bombshell practically dragged her by the arm past Batgirl’s hiding place. Gotham’s Dark Angel flitted after them.

Once Moth had locked Marie away and departed, Batgirl moved to the door of the cell and opened it with her miniature lock pick. "I’m a friend," she whispered, stepping into the cell with a finger to her lips.

Marie was sobbing quietly, not looking at the new arrival. "Who? Who are you?" she asked, wiping tears from her eyes with her fingers. When she was able to focus on the voluptuous vision approaching her, Marie’s eyes widened and her voice fell to an awed whisper. "Batgirl." The hope Ma Parker had shattered was beginning to rebuild itself.

"I came to tell you this will all be over, very soon."

"Will you take me away from here?"

"Yes, but not right now. I need to find the other people Ma Parker kidnaped first. Okay?" Batgirl had sat down beside the woman and put her arms around the seamstress. As she held Ma Parker’s victim, she let her lips curl into a friendly smile. Batgirl went on holding Marie until the trembling stopped. Marie stared at her after being released. Then the prisoner sniffed and nodded. "Good," Batgirl said quietly. She went on encouragingly. "You’re very brave, Marie. I’ll be back soon. I promise. Until then, take it easy. Everything is going to be okay."

Marie nodded. Batgirl smiled in response and got up. She had almost closed the door when she heard the frightened woman whisper, "Thank you."

As Batgirl emerged from the hall of monastic cells, she spotted Eenie moving toward her. Batgirl shrank back, waiting until the former henchkitten’s footsteps had mostly faded. Then, she followed to the ground level where Eenie joined Jack O’Shea on a sofa in a secluded alcove off the castle’s great hall.

"Hello, Jack. I heard you wanted to see me."

"I wanted to tell you how excited meeting you made me, Eenie. Ever since I heard Catwoman first hired a woman, I wanted to meet her."

"Why?"

"I’m interested in Catwoman and everything with which she surrounds herself."

"There’s a surprise."

"Look. Let’s get past Catwoman."

"Very well, she was only a pretext to talk to me anyway, right? What did you want to say to me, Jack?"

"Eenie, I’m really glad you decided to come and talk. This wedding could be great for everyone.

"You’re lucky I had time between getting dressed and the start of the wedding. So, tell me. How do I look?" Eenie asked.

O’Shea moved closer to her and smiled conspiratorially. She leaned forward expectantly. "You look marvelous."

"I’ll bet you say that to all the girls now that you’re a big important newsman. I’m just a lowly henchwoman, trying to eke out a living in this dog eat dog world."

"I don’t, you know. I only say it to the ones with which I think I have something in common."

"I see," she said. "We’re back to Catwoman."

"I’d like to think you and I have more in common than just her."

"Are you nervous, Jack?" Eenie asked, playfully, mercilessly.

O’Shea smiled and leaned closer to her. "I’m just trying to do my job."

"Oh, okay, " she replied with an enigmatic smile. "I’ll play. When was the last time you saw Catwoman?"

"I haven’t spoken to her in several years. How about you?"

"Other than when we picked up Chickadee, it’s been awhile. I’ve been out of circulation for some time."

"Inside?’’

"Out of town. I moved back in with my mother. When she insisted I get a real job, I moved back to Gotham."

"I’m glad you’re back."

"You’re a liar! The only reason we’ve even met is CB and I kidnaped you."

"I mean it," O’Shea protested, putting on a hurt look. "You didn’t need the machine gun. You could have taken me with a smile and a wave of your hand."

"Really? Do you respond to such invitations often?"

O’Shea grinned. "Too often, kitten, but I’d love to have a chance to make you purr.’’

"You really think you could?"

"I’ve had a little experience."

"I’ll bet you have! How should I feel about that? I wonder."

"You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?"

‘‘Why should I? You’re trying to talk me into becoming the latest in a long line of--"

O’Shea held up a hand. "You’ve been out of circulation."

"I didn’t say I joined a convent!"

He swallowed. The line of conversation had taken a turn for the worse. "Who do you think Ma Parker will marry?"

"You’re the gossip columnist. Who do you think it should be?"

"Batman."

"Batman! Why on Earth would Ma Parker marry him?"

O'Shea's ploy had worked. He had managed to change the subject. Now he had to regain control of the conversation. "It would be a great story," he explained.

"Ma Parker wants to create a criminal empire. Her husband will somehow help her run it. What makes you think Batman would be interested in the job?"

"You don't think he'd go for the fringe benefits?"

"Jack, this is BATMAN we're talking about. He didn't exactly pounce on Catwoman."

"Do you think there's something wrong with him?"

"Not that I've noticed."

"You and Marsha, Queen of Diamonds. Did you know she tried to marry Batman?"

"How did she make him agree to that? Wouldn't drugs be grounds for divorce if she used them?"

"Marsha threatened Robin. It didn't work. It's really kind of an interesting story. Batman was apparently right in the middle of saying 'I do' when this woman came in with her lawyer and presented a wedding certificate. Her lawyer announced she was suing the Caped Crusader for a million bucks. I checked into all of this. The lawyer was bogus. There was no lawsuit and I could never figure out who the woman was. Also, I could never find a copy of anything anywhere that says Batman is married. The Caped Crusader is single and always was. Marsha stormed off anyway and later ordered her sword wielding guardians to dispatch both Batman and Robin. Of course, she had already ordered her men to carve the heroes into camel food before the aborted wedding. What does that tell you?"

Suddenly, Jack realized Eenie was not enthralled by his story. "If a girl were going to bag Batman, she might have to marry him first. Oh god! Would that be messy afterwards?" Eenie started to laugh.

Jack laughed nervously with her. He needed to retrieve her attention. "Okay Eenie, what about Robin?"

Eenie smiled. "When I worked for Catwoman, she said the only thing he was interested in was baseball. That's probably changed. Still, Robin's pretty straight-laced. He wouldn't be nearly as much fun as a guy like you."

"Let's get back to the choices Ma Parker was given," O'Shea suggested. "Suppose it’s Spade. Won’t you get lonely?’’

"Not for very long, if you’re telling the truth about my power over men."

"Why would I lie to you?"

"Well, you are hitting on me. Aren’t you supposed to?"

"Oh, God!"

Batgirl felt she had time to locate the other kidnap victims before alerting Mr. O’Shea to her presence. Neither he nor Eenie seemed to be in any particular danger at the moment. Batgirl moved on.

The smell of freshly baked bread and other cooking drew Batgirl to the kitchen. She could easily overhear what was transpiring inside from quite a distance.

"This is an outrage!" a man declared loudly.

"This is how it’s gonna be," Chickadee responded. Batgirl maneuvered into a position from which she could see Chickadee.

“You presume to tell the great Vincent Trivisano his Italian wedding soup needs salt!"

"You got it, pal."

"I cannot work under these conditions! I won’t! The Trivisano family has been making this soup for countless generations! I know the correct amount of salt! This recipe you have given me is superfluous! Are you hearing me, woman? I, Vincent Trivisano, have spoken!”

"I don’t care how loudly you shout, Vinny," Chickadee responded, ratcheting up the volume. "The meal you are preparing is for the bride. If she doesn’t like the soup, I will hear about it. If I hear about it, I will come back in here after dessert and shove your ugly face into that oversized pot. I will then hold your head inside that pot until you have eaten every last drop of your family’s soup!"

"You’re insane!"

"And you’re stupid."

"How dare you! You are stupid!"

"I’m not the one who can’t follow a recipe. You are stupid!"

"No. You’re stupid!"

"I am not. You’re stupid!"

"You’re stupid!" The danger of their argument degenerating further was palpable.

"I’m not finished! The only way you will avoid eating the leftover soup, in the likely event it is not a colossal hit, is the not unlikely scenario in which I happen to drown you in it!"

"I have not been spoken to in such a manner since I was a little boy! How dare you?"

"I will speak to you in whatever manner I choose. I will tell you exactly what you need to hear. I don’t care how insulted, bullied, harassed, and annoyed it all makes you. You will make the soup according to the recipe I gave you. I don’t care what you think of it. Now get on with making dinner! Now!"

Batgirl heard Chickadee turn on her heels as her last orders echoed from the kitchen. The Dark Angel of Gotham melded into a shadow and moved in the direction Chickadee had come from after the Bronx-born bridesmaid passed.

"Oh, God, is she beautiful," Batgirl heard Vincent Trivisano say as she slipped soundlessly into the kitchen.

"Excuse me, Mr. Trivisano,’’ Batgirl said.

"Back for more, are you?" the chef asked more softly without looking at her, as he quickly set a container of salt on the counter.

"No, Mr. Trivisano."

The chef seemed to realize the woman who had entered the room was not shouting at him, but politely trying to get his attention with quiet, measured tones. "What?" he asked. He glanced at her and froze. After a second he turned toward her. "Aren’t you Batgirl?"

"I am," Batgirl admitted, shaking his offered hand. "Ma Parker doesn’t know it yet, but her wedding is off. Once things start happening, you should be ready to leave."

"I understand, Batgirl. I’ll be ready." He turned from her and dipped a spoon into the soup. He tasted it and set the spoon aside. "It does need salt." He realized Batgirl had not yet left and had likely heard the earlier argument. After all, the exchange could have awakened Rip Van Winkle. Quickly he added, "Just a dash of salt."

Batgirl nodded; waved at the chef, who was now once again absorbed in the task of cooking; and continued exploring.

The strains of an organ next attracted Batgirl’s attention. She moved unseen to the other side of the courtyard and found a place where she could listen to the musician practice the wedding march and other traditional favorites.

"That was lovely, Professor Kingsfield," Grandma Parker said.

"Thank you, dear lady," a distinguished voice said, enunciating each word carefully and placing emphasis on the latter parts of his sentences.

"Are you familiar with all the music in the program?"

"I believe so," the professor said, shuffling papers. "Yes. You’ve made some excellent choices."

"You’re very kind. Well, I’ll leave you to practice."

Grandma Parker passed Batgirl without being aware of her presence. The Dominoed Dare Doll stepped into the alcove where the man was still arranging the sheets of music.

"Professor?" Batgirl asked.

"Yes, young lady?" As he regarded her, Batgirl felt like a student who had not done her homework.

"I’m here to let you know the wedding will be called off."

"Oh?" The professor stared at her for a moment, scrutinizing her coldly. "I gather from your colorful attire you believe what you are saying, however, I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth."

"I assure you, Professor, the criminals who kidnaped you will be brought to justice. We’ll take them during the ceremony and see you are brought safely home."

"Kidnaped, young lady? I have not been kidnaped. I received a telephone call earlier today explaining the organist for this ceremony fell ill at the last moment. The young woman asked if I could fill in. As I had no pressing appointments, I readily agreed. The wedding party was quite prompt picking me up."

"I’m glad to hear you were able to accept. If you had not——"

"Young lady, don’t you think you should let me practice. We’ll be getting started soon and I know you will want to change. Weddings are solemn ceremonies in which deep, lifelong commitments are established, not sorority costume parties. Good day!"

"Professor, " Batgirl said, "I really had no idea you were a musician."

"Indeed," he responded. Having already dismissed Batgirl, the professor bent over his portable keyboard and began to play.

Batgirl resigned herself to the need to do more public appearances and moved off.

The last person Batgirl wanted to check on ironically proved to be Reverend Hazlitt, Bruce Wayne’s minister, who had nearly been kidnaped to marry her to The Penguin. When she found him, he made her smile.

"I will not perform this ceremony and there is nothing you can do to me that will make me change my mind!" he shouted.

"Is that so?" Vixen asked.

"It most certainly is!"

‘‘What do you want us to do to him first, boss?" Moth asked.

"Nothing," Ma Parker replied.

"Nothing?" Reverend Hazlitt and the henchwomen asked simultaneously.

Ma Parker chuckled. "We won’t lay a finger on you, Reverend. But, you will perform my wedding ceremony. And you will do it of your own free will."

"I think you are quite mistaken!"

Ma Parker ignored his comment and continued as casually as if discussing the weather. "This castle is of interest to historians and others, due to the detail that went into its construction. I’m sure you will find the dungeon quite authentic. It is dank, dark, cold , and generally miserable. Vixen tells me it has a fantastically crude torture chamber, equipped with all those hideous medieval devices you read about. When we’ve finished this interview, Moth and Vixen will take you on a tour of those facilities and leave you to reconsider your decision."

"Do your worst. I won’t change my mind!"

"I sincerely hope you reconsider," Ma Parker warned, "because if you don’t, I will treat you to a front row seat as I make a young woman in my care suffer unspeakable pain. She is totally innocent in all of this and I know your soul would be torn into tiny pieces if she were to suffer for your bad decision. And that is precisely how I plan to persuade you to make the right decision. Think about it, Reverend. Girls, take him downstairs!"

Batgirl felt a chill go up and down her spine as the ashen-faced clergyman was led past her. Batgirl turned to the chamber where the villainess remained. Batgirl was angry. Ma Parker was prepared to torture Marie, the frightened seamstress, to persuade Reverend Hazlitt to conduct the wedding. Legs needed to be stopped before the innocent woman could be harmed. Besides, Batgirl had some personal issues to settle with the malevolent matriarch.

She was just about to take out the gorgeous gang leader, when another horrifying thought struck her. Moth and Vixen would have no qualms whatsoever about carrying out Ma Parker’s wishes if the plans started to go awry. Until Batgirl could assure all the potential hostages’ safety, things would have to appear to be going according to schedule. As long as Moth and Vixen were busy scaring the minister, Marie would be safe. Batgirl had to follow them to the dungeon.

Ma Parker had one final card to play. "Oh, Reverend," she called sweetly, getting his attention. Moth and Vixen, with the man of the cloth between them, stopped. As Legs went on, her voice transformed to match her manner. Her tone developed a hard, steely edge, commanding respect and leaving no doubt as to the truth of her words. "I want you to understand the woman I spoke of is only one of the innocents I’m holding. If her suffering doesn’t persuade you, I have other potential victims as well."

Reverend Hazlitt’s face paled even more visibly. "You horrible woman," he declared.

"Quite. I’m glad we understand one another. Take him away!"

The dungeon lived up to its billing. It was indeed dank, dark, cold, and quite miserable, however, the setting enabled Batgirl to follow the minister and his captors more closely than she otherwise could have. She forced herself to watch as the two blondes chained Reverend Hazlitt to the stone wall and continued the assault on his psyche.

"The Riddler once described to me exactly how each of these fiendish devices are employed," Moth explained in loving tones. She moved to each, identified it, and provided their captive with a graphic description of its use. She seemed to be enjoying herself.

"Just think," Vixen said, "you'll get to experience every aspect of the poor woman's torment. You'll hear her scream, watch her bleed, see every facial expression, and shudder along with her as her body is wracked by unspeakable pain she can do nothing to stop. Her fate is in your hands. We'll be back for your answer shortly, after we change."

"Do the right thing," Moth concluded. The blond henchwomen left with their laughter echoing throughout the torture chamber.

Reverend Hazlitt was staring at the instruments of torture arrayed before him as Batgirl entered the chamber. "Reverend, are you all right?"

"Batgirl! It’s a miracle! I’m fine, well, I am now that you’re here. They have a woman captive. They plan to make me watch them torture her unless I perform some mad female mobster’s wedding!"

"Don’t worry. I know all about it. The woman under threat is fine. I’ve seen her."

"You’re as wonderful as I’d imagined. I almost met you once before."

Batgirl knew what he would say, but played along. "Really?"

"Yes. A few years back, The Penguin tried to make me marry him to Commissioner Gordon’s daughter, Barbara. I was discussing a church supper with a Mr. Alfred Pennyworth who works for Bruce Wayne. Mr. Pennyworth took my place and generously kept me out of the criminal’s hands."

"I recall the case. Mr. Pennyworth is an honorable man and an exemplary citizen."

"I agree completely. He refused any public recognition for his bravery. Of course, I let Mr. Wayne know. I’m sorry. I’m babbling."

He seemed to be starting to feel better. Batgirl smiled and held his gaze. "You’ve been through a lot and are showing remarkable bravery, Reverend. Will you help me keep that woman safe?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to play along with Ma Parker."

"I’d rather not complete her wedding ceremony."

"You won’t have to. At the appropriate time in the ceremony, I will have a little surprise for her."

Reverend Hazlitt smiled as understanding dawned on him. "That could work."

"Then you agree?"

"Certainly. I can’t allow anything to happen to that woman on my account."

"If these filthy crooks harm her, the crime will be on their heads, not yours, and in that eventuality, they will be punished severely. But, we won’t let them harm her, will we?"

"No. We won’t."

"I have to go. They’ll be back for your answer soon."

"I’m not going anywhere." Reverend Hazlitt shook his chain and grinned at Batgirl. She stepped away and heard him whisper, "Thank you."

She had additional preparations to make, but knew everything she needed to know before the ceremony began.

Later, as the professor played the Wedding March, the front benches were filled with bridesmaids, groomsmen and the Parker family. Jack O’Shea stood in the background behind a camera mounted on a tripod. Reverend Hazlitt stood atop the dais beside Legs’ choice, French Freddy Touche the Fence, and his best man, Maty Dee.

Reverend Hazzlitt wore a white vestment with a knee length cape over his black suit with its clerical collar. The other men wore tuxedos with black bow ties.

Grandma Parker had chosen to wear a long, sleeveless, black, silk dress, with her hair piled intricately atop her head so her shoulders, neck, and most of her head were bare. She used makeup sparingly, but to good effect. The bridesmaids wore satin, fully sleeved dresses of pale yellow which rose to their necks and fell to their heels to show the light matching yellow pumps. The wide lace edging around the neck and wrists made the dresses quite eye-catching.

The bride herself had had her hair specially styled so that a puff of hair went up and back from her forehead, as well as straight out and down on the sides. The tops of her ears were covered, but her lobes were visible to display large silver hoops symbolizing the rings the couple would soon wear. The moderate amount of makeup she wore made her face glow appropriately and contrast with her cheeks, which had been touched with a hint of blush. She had used a light silvery blue eye shadow and lengthened her eyelashes with soft brown mascara. Finally, a shade of coral pink set off her lips.

Her silky, snow-white gown was strapless with sleeves that left her shoulders bare and attached to the dress under her armpits, looking almost like long white gloves extending to her wrists. Her bodice hooked in the back to be drawn tightly to her chest and waist, casting her elegant torso in what looked almost like a white corset. Lace trim edged the top of the gown and the built-in cups surrounding the bottoms and outer sides of her breasts, lent them separation and lift which made her cleavage appear very impressive. Going back from the cups, the gown angled down to form a shallow V on her back, the hooks which held it together were hidden by a flap of material.

Below Legs' waist, the material changed to a few layers of diaphanous white broad weave which gave only a hint of the nicely tanned flesh of her thighs and legs. Immediately below her waist, the material was gathered closely enough to conceal her white silk panties. Below her hips the gown spread lending it an airy look enhanced by the long cut up the left side of this billowing skirt. The ensemble lent her companions occasional glimpses of her beautiful legs sheathed in sexy nude silk hose with an interwoven rose pattern. These hose were held up by rose-colored lacy garters. The special garter she would toss to her bridesmaids was worn lower on her right thigh. It was white and featured bright red roses.

The gown was long enough to allow Legs’ feet, shod in medium-heeled white fabric pumps, to be seen at all times. Of course, with the height of these heels, around three inches, the gown would hover above the floor until she kicked off her shoes. Then it would drag.

Finally, Legs wore a long, removable veil which fell down and dragged a bit behind her. It appeared to be a mere wisp of the material from which the skirt of her gown had been sewn.

As the music played, Ma Legs Parker moved slowly toward the waiting men. When she reached her place she nodded to Reverend Hazlitt, who began the ceremony, "Dearly beloved." He paused to cough before continuing, "We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in the bonds of matrimony." The ceremony proceeded with its music and the clergyman’s lengthy remarks.

Ma Parker began frowning as the remarks took on the tone of a lecture. She was glaring at her private audience with well-honed daggers behind her eyes before the Reverend had finished.

"Get on with it, NOW!" she ordered quietly.

Reverend Hazlitt favored her with a smile that brought a red flush to her face. "And now for the moment for which we have all been waiting." As Ma Parker exhaled, he proceeded. "Legs Parker, do you take this man, Frederic Touche, to be your husband? " He paused to begin a lengthy list of circumstances in which the couple’s union would have to persist, but thought better of it when Ma Parker glanced at him sharply. Instead, he waited.

"I do," Ma Parker said confidently.

Reverend Hazlitt went on. "Frederic Touche, do you take this woman, Legs Parker, to be your wife?"

French Freddy gulped as the implications of his victory became apparent in a blinding flash of realization. ‘No more “business trips” to the Riviera or Montmartre.’ He inhaled and turned to see her staring at him expectantly. "I do," he said.

Ma Parker grinned at Reverend Hazlitt, confident she had achieved everything she had wanted. He responded with a smile, which widened as she wondered why he was smiling and frowned.

"Before I make the pronouncement for which I know you are all waiting, I am required by law and good conscience to ask if anyone present objects to the union of Legs Parker and Frederic Touche on any grounds whatsoever. If so, please speak now or forever hold your peace."

"I have a whole laundry list of objections,” Batgirl announced, striding into the courtyard and placing her hands on her shapely hips and letting her legs spread to shoulder width, “the main one being I am placing most of the wedding party under arrest immediately!"

Legs whirled back to face the Reverend. "Finish it!" she ordered.

"I want to hear Batgirl’s objections first," Reverend Hazlitt said quietly, letting himself smile.

"Batgirl," the professor at the keyboard said, enunciating carefully, "the real Batgirl? Extraordinary."

"It’s a living Bat-doll!" Bolt said fearfully.

"Batgirl should be a pretty Bat-corpse by now!" Undine objected.

"Batgirl," French Freddy said wistfully. "What an incredible woman!"

Ma Parker glared at the man she was seven words away from possessing. She turned to the new arrival, speaking loudly enough to be heard by everyone. "Batgirl, it seems we’ll have a funeral here today as well as a wedding! Mother!"

Grandma Parker began to bring a machine gun muzzle to bear on Gotham City’s Svelte Sentinel. She dropped her weapon with a sharp cry as a Batarang disarmed her.

"It’s rude to attend a wedding unaccompanied," Batgirl said, striding forward and placing a foot decisively on the fallen gun. "I believe you all know my date, Robin, the Boy Wonder?"

"Robin," Moth said.

"Robin?" Maty Dee echoed.

"Robin!" Jack O’Shea repeated.

"Do something!" Ma Parker demanded of French Freddy. As he began to obey, the Teen Thunderbolt swung in on a Batrope and hit him with both feet, sending him sprawling from the dais.

"All right," Ma Parker said. "Get them!"

"Hold it!" a new voice boomed. Commissioner James Gordon stepped into view on the roof, flanked by Chief O’Hara and Policewoman Mooney. A squad of armed officers also became visible, aiming at the courtyard from the roof.

"I have hostages down here, copper!" Ma Parker shouted. "If we don’t get out of here, they all die!"

"Don’t throw your life away, Ms. Parker!" Commissioner Gordon shouted. "We don’t want to hurt you!"

"You won’t take any of us alive, pig!"

"Legs," Batgirl said. "Please listen to me."

"What do you want?" the villainess demanded.

"You have more to live for than just yourself, you know. This situation doesn’t have to get out of hand." As Batgirl finished speaking the infant began to cry. "Listen."

Ma Parker’s face paled. "My baby!" she said, exhaling as the horror of the blood-bath waiting to happen struck her.

"Let the innocents go. You can’t win. No matter how many of us you kill, it won’t matter in the end," Batgirl said.

"What will happen to my baby?"

"Die, Batgirl!" French Freddy said, charging the healthy heroine. Batgirl half turned and shot her leg into the oncoming man’s throat. He collapsed, coughing, and remained retching on the ground. At the same time, Maty Dee swung at Robin. The Boy Wonder blocked, hit him in the ribs and sent him tumbling down the dais with an adroitly executed step, pivot and judo throw.

"Stop!" Ma Parker shouted, holding up her hands. She looked at her gang and realized they were itching to fight it out. She inhaled. "Bring the rest of the hostages here." Her people hesitated. "Now!" she shouted. Her gang moved to comply. "That should keep them occupied for a few minutes. Batgirl, what about my baby?"

"Warden Crichton runs one of the most comprehensive and progressive penological programs in the country. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he were to launch some kind of in-house program for your child. If you give yourself up now, there are good people who will make it their business to see your baby is given the best of care."

"Thank you, Batgirl," Ma Parker said, offering her wrists for Batcuffs. ‘‘You and Robin should get the innocents out of here."

Vixen, the maid of honor, had discreetly slipped off the dias unnoticed. She now stood next to Undine.

From the proverbial sidelines, Undine looked on and frowned. "She’s cracking.’’

"You’re right," Vixen agreed. "Time to go. Follow me."

"Where can we hide, once we get away from here?"

"I’m sure we can persuade The Joker to put us up for awhile."

"That may work for you. I stood there and watched Chickadee clock him. He’ll remember that."

"I’ll tell him we’re a package deal. He can take it or leave it."

"I appreciate that. Of course, you do realize he might just take it."

"So?"

"Good point. Let’s go."

Without another word, the Comely Call Girl led them through a labyrinth of corridors. Finally, they entered a sumptuous bedroom. Without sparing their luxurious surroundings a glance, they stepped through a secret door Vixen had opened and vanished. Seconds later, the secret door closed behind them.

Shortly thereafter, Batgirl and Robin escorted the former captives through the chapel.

"Just a moment," Reverend Hazlitt said. He was examining a mural depicting a battle scene from the Crusades.

"We should keep moving, Reverend," Robin said. "It still isn’t completely safe here."

"The church knights’ standard is wrong."

"What?" Batgirl asked.

"I’m sorry. The Crusades are a hobby of mine. The Church at that time had various orders of knights who fought for God against the Saracens. The most famous of these knights were called Templars, or knights of the Temple. These figures in white satin are Templars," he explained, pointing them out in the mural.

"The Temple is the Temple of Solomon, isn’t it?" Robin asked.

"That’s right."

"Weren’t the Templars thrown out of the Church?" Batgirl asked.

"Yes. Much later their order had become rich and rumors of their corruption were widely circulated throughout the Christian world. There may have been some basis for the rumors, but both politics and greed were also behind the order’s excommunication. Of course, when the French authorities came to their Paris headquarters, they found no fabulous treasure. Thus, Templars were rumored to have gone into hiding and are at the center of a number of conspiracy theories today."

"Why did you say their standard is wrong?"

"The Templars’ most famous symbol is a red cross on a white background. The standard that knight is holding has the red cross, but it also features that flaming sword. It doesn’t belong," the Reverend said, pointing.

"I see what you mean," Robin said. "Could these knights be from a subgroup, or a faction of the Templars?"

"If that were true," Batgirl murmured, "perhaps this castle wasn’t built by a cult."

"What?" Reverend Hazlitt asked.

"Nothing," Batgirl said quickly. "We should get going."

"Just a second," Robin said. "Who is that?’’ He pointed to a green-cloaked figure pictured in mortal combat with two Saracens. The man’s head was shaped like an inverted pear. Unlike the knights he fought with, he was clean shaven, even lacking eyebrows . His jet black hair contrasted with lines of white hair just above each ear, and his cat-green eyes and deeply lined face all combined to give him a vaguely demonic appearance.

"I don’t know," Reverend Hazlitt said. "He is very striking, though, isn’t he?"

"Yes," Robin agreed. "It’s the kind of face you’d never forget."

"In a way, he appears out of place fighting for either side," Batgirl remarked. "I can’t place his ethnicity. Can you?"

"No," Robin admitted. He and Batgirl then finished leading the hostages to safety.

Later, as Batgirl mounted her motorcycle, preparing to leave vicinity of the castle, Robin returned to the subject of the strange man in the mural. "Batgirl, this may sound impossible, but I’ve seen the man in that mural before."

"It isn’t impossible, Robin. He could have appeared on tapestries or pottery from the period, or maybe a monk copied a sketch of him illuminating a manuscript."

"I’ve been considering those possibilities myself since I recognized him, but it’s weird . I didn’t see him on an item of historical source material. He’s in Batman’s criminal files!"

"What? How can a centuries-old warrior from the Dark Ages be in Batman’s files? Why would he be?"

Robin stared at her and shrugged. "I don’t know."

The next morning, Barbara Gordon watched a rebroadcast of Jack O’Shea being interviewed by Walter Klondike. O’Shea related how the police had swarmed in and escorted the hostages to safety. They had arrested all the remaining villains. By this time, both Batgirl and Robin had disappeared.

Barbara was very dubious of his account of how he had been taken hostage and subsequently been traumatized as Ma Parker’s prisoner. His speculation about the baby being placed in temporary foster care was likely more on-target, since Warden Crichton would need time to develop a program to accommodate Ma Parker and her child.

Grandma Parker was, at the insistence of her lawyer, being treated more like a hostage than a member of the gang. She had, he argued, been kidnaped from the Old Criminals’ Home. She faced the possibility of some community service. When the interview ended, Barbara turned off the television.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I wish to officially thank Steve Z, Special Bat-Consultant for this episode, for the invaluable help he gave me in designing Ms. Parker and her bridesmaids’ dresses. Everything about all of them is lovely.

Back to Batgirl Bat-Trap stories

Back to the Batgirl Bat-Trap Homepage!

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