Batman Page #30

Familiar faces all around -- the major players of the

Gotham underworld. But despite the enormous twisted grins,

no one here is laughing or applauding. No one here is

living. The JOKER is playing to a roomful of smiling

corpses.

One of them topples out of his chair and lands with a plop.

JOKER:

Look at that, folks. We got 'em

rolling in the aisles!

CUT TO:

INT. BRUCE'S BEDROOM - TOWARD DUSK

VICKI lies in BRUCE's bed, under the covers, propped up on

the pillows. BRUCE is in his robe over by the window,

looking out at his estate.

BRUCE:

All this apparatus, Vicki... this

house, and the money, and the

power... it was never mine. It was

something I inherited. Bruce Wayne

was something I inherited.

(pause)

All I ever hoped for was someone who

could see through Bruce -- who could

see me -- and not be frightened.

VICKI:

I'm not frightened of you, Bruce.

I'm frightened for you.

BRUCE:

In all these years... why couldn't I

see how it would turn out?

He turns toward her. His face is ravaged with guilt. Now

she's truly afraid.

BRUCE (cont.)

I'm responsible, Vicki. If it wasn't

for me, there'd be no Joker.

CUT TO:

INT. BATCAVE - EVENING

TIGHT ON a tiny electronic device: two cylindrical steel

casings bracketed together, topped by a DIGITAL TIMER.

BRUCE makes a few adjustments with a jeweler's screwdriver,

hits a trigger, and watches the TIMER tick off seconds. 30.

29. 28. At 25 seconds, BRUCE kills the

countdown and CLAMPS THE DEVICE into an empty packet on his

utility belt.

He stands up wearily. He's in his bat-suit, minus the cape

and cowl. Behind him, hanging back discreetly in the

shadows, is his loyal butler ALFRED.

BRUCE:

Where's the boy?

ALFRED:

Upstairs. He's quite docile.

BRUCE:

I know that feeling. It won't last.

BRUCE takes a moment to survey the Batcave as ALFRED looks

on tremulously.

BRUCE (cont.)

He's a long way ahead of where I was

at his age.

(taking ALFRED's

shoulders)

I want you to treat him just as if

he were me. Promise.

ALFRED:

Yes, sir.

BRUCE:

He'll be taken care of financially.

Beyond that... you know what to do.

Don't let all this go to waste.

Their eyes lock for a long moment. ALFRED is unable to

speak. Finally BRUCE turns and starts slowly up the long

circular stairway which leads from the Batcave to Wayne

Manor. On the third step he pauses:

BRUCE (cont.)

Alfred? -- Thank you.

As BRUCE disappears up the stairs, a shaken ALFRED steadies

himself against a lab table, fighting back tears.

INT. BRUCE'S BEDROOM - EVENING

BRUCE draws the curtains, sets an alarm clock. The current

time is 7:
09 PM.

He sits cross-legged on the floor, slumps forward slightly,

and closes his eyes. He inhales, exhales, taking deep,

regular breaths. His muscles relax. Ten seconds later,

BRUCE has plunged into DEEP SLEEP.

Time passes. The clock shows 7:19, 7:32.

At 7:
44 we TRACK IN on BRUCE's unconscious face, drawing

closer and closer until HIS EYELIDS FILL THE FRAME,

twitching with the irregular movement characteristic of

R.E.M. sleep. Without warning his EYES SNAP OPEN.

HOLD ON BRUCE'S GAZE -- grim, alert, determined -- as the

clock hits 7:
45. An ALARM SOUNDS, BREAKING THE SILENCE with

its grating electronic WHINE.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. ACE CHEMICAL - AERIAL SHOT - NIGHT

The trademark ace on the illuminated sign. From our vantage

point high above, we can see THREE CARGO TRUCKS rolling out

the main gates. A half-mile away, THE BATMOBILE cruises up

the waterfront, approaching soundlessly, its headlights

off... preparing for a final showdown with the JOKER's

forces.

INT. ACE CHEMICAL - THAT MOMENT - NIGHT

The JOKER'S MINIONS, working late, readying a huge

shipment. At an open loading bay, we find a DISPATCHER with

a clipboard, directing MORE UNMARKED TRUCKS in the lot

outside.

DISPATCHER:

Boston, Philly:
loading bay one.

EXT. ACE CHEMICAL - THAT MOMENT - NIGHT

The BATMOBILE stops short of the main gate. ENGINES ROAR

and the supercar ACCELERATES, SMASHING THROUGH THE GATE and

taking half the chain-link fence with it.

In the guard's booth, ARMED GOONS pull guns as the

BATMOBILE streaks across the parking lot and LAUNCHES A

ROCKET at the corrugated metal door which opens on the

factory floor. A THUNDEROUS EXPLOSION tears a gaping hole

in the door.

INT. ACE CHEMICAL - THAT MOMENT - NIGHT

The BATMOBILE cruises through the flaming wreckage and

SKIDS TO A HALT on the refinery floor. The JOKER'S MEN are

everywhere. They take one look at the BATMOBILE, PANIC, and

PELT THE CAR with a barrage of MACHINE-GUN FIRE.

CRACKS begin to spread across the Batmobile's plexiglass

dome. Within moments, the windshield SHATTERS -- and

COLLAPSES ALTOGETHER.

INT. BATMOBILE - THAT MOMENT

BULLETS rip through the upholstered passenger seats. It

doesn't matter. The car is empty. No one's driving.

TRACK IN on the computer console -- where a familiar tinny

voice calmly repeats its pre-programmed command:

COMPUTER:

... Detonate.

A beat. Then:
BLAM.

INT. POLICE CAR - THAT MOMENT - NIGHT

A CONVOY approaches Ace Chemical -- GORDON's team preparing

to raid the plant. Inside each car: SPECIAL UNIT COPS

dressed in asbestos suits, gas masks in their laps.

All at once, a BRILLIANT RED GLARE suffuses the sky.

COP:

Good Lord!

EXT. ACE CHEMICAL - THAT MOMENT - NIGHT

THE JOKER'S MEN running for their lives across the parking

lot, KNOCKED FLAT by the force of SIX DEAFENING EXPLOSIONS.

For a few seconds everything is flame and fury. And then --

Rate this script:3.5 / 6 votes