Batman Page #26

VICKI:

Oh, Bruce. Don't tell me you carry

it around with you.

BRUCE:

I feel naked without it.

He takes out a tiny ULTRASOUND SCANNER -- rather like a

stethoscope, with a miniature sonar display where the

earpieces should be -- and runs it over the package.

BRUCE (cont.)

Not a bomb. But it could be rigged.

Wait in the next room.

He takes a small GAS MASK from his belt, puts it on, then

SLITS THE WRAPPING with a steak knife.

Nothing. Cautiously, he pulls back the flaps. The box is

full of STYROFOAM POPCORN. BRUCE shoves a hand down into

the popcorn... and extracts a HUMAN EAR.

In the doorway behind him, VICKI lets out a squeal.

BRUCE grabs the box and dumps TWO DOZEN EARS on the

counter.

BRUCE:

... They're wax.

VICKI finds a hand-scrawled NOTE among the ears.

VICKI:

"It worked for Van Gogh. Let's make

up. I'll need you soon." -- Whew.

BRUCE:

(lost in thought)

That does it. It's going to be this

weekend.

The KITCHEN PHONE rings. VICKI reaches for the receiver.

Her eyes go wide and she gestures him over.

INT. ALICIA HUNT'S APARTMENT - THAT MOMENT

ALICIA, in her porcelain mask, on the phone.

ALICIA:

I thought you ought to know -- he's

coming for you...

ON BRUCE AND VICKI

Faces pressed together as they listen in. BRUCE covers the

mouthpiece with one hand.

BRUCE:

Keep her on the line!

VICKI:

... Where are you calling from?

As VICKI struggles to keep the conversation alive, BRUCE

rushes into the living room and crouches beside his LAPTOP

COMPUTER. He plugs it in, flips open the screen, punches up

a telecommunications program.

A moment later VICKI enters from the kitchen.

VICKI:

I'm sorry, she hung up. What are --

BRUCE:

Finding out where she is.

VICKI:

How can you do that if she's already

off the line?

BRUCE:

I've had an automatic tracer on this

number ever since he tracked you to

the museum.

INT. BATCAVE - THAT MOMENT

MASSIVE COMPUTERS click and whir. At BRUCE's prodding,

INFORMATION comes up on the monitor: a number, a name --

ALICIA HUNT -- and an East Side address.

INT. VICKI'S APARTMENT - THAT MOMENT - EVENING

THE SAME INFORMATION scrolls across BRUCE's screen.

BRUCE:

Got it!

VICKI:

What now!

BRUCE:

Hang on. I have to leave a message.

HE FREEZES. He's heard something in the hallway outside.

INT. HALLWAY - THAT MOMENT

ELEVATOR DOORS open on THREE THUGS. One of them uses a key

to lock the car in place on VICKI's floor. The key is on

the end of a ring which contains dozens of other keys.

The KEY RING belongs to a DOORMAN, who's riding in the

elevator with the JOKER's trio of thugs. He's dead, alas.

The THUGS dump him unceremoniously on the floor of the hall

and march toward VICKI's apartment.

INT. VICKI'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER

BRUCE is nowhere in sight. VICKI is at the sink washing

dishes, acting nonchalant. She pretends not to hear the

DOOR unlocking behind her.

She turns -- and faces the THREE ADVANCING THUGS.

THUG I:

Hi, Miss Vale. Let's not put up a

fight, huh? 'Cause we'd hate to have

to --

BRUCE steps into the doorway behind them. With a single

sweep of the arm, he flings THREE DRUG-TIPPED NINJA WHEELS

at the thugs, catching one in the neck, one in the

shoulder, one in the hip. They COLLAPSE in quick

succession.

BRUCE:

There's a garage in this building?

VICKI nods yes. BRUCE -- all business now that he's in his

element -- disappears into VICKI's bedroom.

She peeks around the corner. He reemerges carrying a BLACK

NYLON STOCKING, which he stuffs into his pocket. VICKI is

full of question, but he shushes her before she can speak.

BRUCE (cont.)

I've got to take him out now.

He stoops down beside the THUGS and pulls the elevator key

off the key ring -- which he then tosses to VICKI.

BRUCE (cont.)

Pick an apartment and stay there.

And listen:
call the police. Give

them that address. Every available

man.

He starts out the door, stops just long enough to take a

dumbfounded VICKI in his arms for a kiss.

INT. UNDERGROUND GARAGE - A MOMENT LATER - EVENING

THE JOKER'S VAN, bearing the Monarch Playing Card logo. TWO

ARMED GOONS lean against the hood. They watch as the

elevator opens and an ordinary fellow in a suit steps out.

BRUCE pulls car keys from his pocket and strolls past the

thugs, head down, whistling. As he walks around the van,

his hand brushes against it -- leaving a MAGNETIZED HOMING

DEVICE, almost too tiny to notice, stuck to the fender.

He walks another six paces, then stops short. He feels

around in all his pockets, making a big show of having

forgotten something.

BRUCE:

Oh, hell!

The GOONS eye him curiously as he strides back toward the

elevator. The doors are closing before it strikes them that

something is amiss.

GOON:

Hey, boss, something's up. The

elevator's working.

INT. VAN - ON JOKER

Frustrated, snarling, ready to throw a tantrum.

JOKER:

DAMMIT! You can't get good help

these days. -- Let's move out.

EXT. STREET - EVENING - OVERHEAD ANGLE

From high above the street we see the JOKER'S VAN pulling

out of VICKI's building. We're up on the roof, with BRUCE.

He hits a button on his utility belt, and a RED SIGNAL

LIGHT begins to flash.

BRUCE clamps the utility belt around his waist. Pulls the

BLACK NYLON STOCKING over his head. And suddenly, he's

BOUNDING ACROSS THE ROOFTOPS in pursuit of the JOKER.

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