The Shadow of the Bat
I own nothing, nobody paid me for this, I just really, really wanted to write it.
A/N: I love Batman, I love the Christopher Nolan "Real World" style Batman. So being the kind of guy I am, I wrote what I think should be scenes in a new Batman movie. I wasn't sure about the script format style and the FF.N rules so if this breaks a rule let me know. The scenes are in chronological order but they jump around. Why write the movie when I can just write the best bits? It's not a story per say, just a fingers crossed 'hope-this-is-how-they-do-it' kind of thing.
The Penguin's Prologue:
THE SHADOW OF THE BAT
A cloud of shapeless smoke across a gray sky. Slowly the clouds coalesce into a single image: A bat.
FADE TO BLACK
CUT TO-INT. CRUMMY APARTMENT-DAY
JIMMY opens the door to his apartment and goes white as a sheet.
Standing on his door step in the rain are four tough looking guys and one man holding an expensive black umbrella over his head.
Guys…hey. H-how's it goin'?
The little man steps inside and lowers the umbrella to reveal a small fat face, narrow shoulders, and a slight gut: THE PENGUIN. He smiles.
James, so nice to see you again. Are you well?
I-I'm good Mr. Cobblepot. Real good. I just sent my guy over to check on the shipment and he said-
PENGUIN (still smiling)
I'm not here about the drugs, James.
JIMMY's terrified but he starts inviting his guests to have a seat on the couch. Only the PENGUIN accepts, the other men stand in a semi circle behind him.
I heard a very interesting story earlier today, so interesting that I had to cancel my plans at the opera and drive all the way over here. Do you know what I heard?
JIMMY'S scared speechless. He stutters for a moment but the PENGUIN keeps talking.
I heard that you put sixty five million dollars of our money, excuse me, my money in an account with Sal Maroni and then you hired this…clown person…is that true?
I don't…I thought-
Is that true?
JIMMY can't look him in the eye.
So what happened to the money?
…he torched it. It's gone.
Ah well…then that's the end of that. (a pause) A shame really, but que sera sera, eh?
JIMMY stares at the PENGUIN, dumbfounded.
Y-you're not mad?
Mad? That's an emotion I'm not capable of. I don't get mad, James, I get even.
The PENGUIN motions to one of the GOONS, who reaches into his suit and pulls out a silenced pistol…
…a bullet wound blossoms in JIMMY'S forehead. He slumps over dead.
PENGUIN rises from the couch as the GOONS start grabbing JIMMY'S body, wrapping it up in a big plastic tarp. The biggest GOON, TERRANCE, stands next to the PENGUIN, watching his men do their job.
Unbelievable. One rogue employee and we lose most of our operating capitol for the year.
We can recoup, sir.
Of course we can recoup, I'm not concerned about the bottom line Terrance. I'm more worried about the message this will send. (To GOONS) Make sure he's weighed down when you drop him in the river, police problems are the last thing I need right now.
Whatever you say Penguin-
Everyone freezes. The GOON looks terrified.
What did you call me?
GOON 1 (nervous)
Whatever you say Mr. Cobblepot.
The PENGUIN glares at the goon, and then goes back to his conversation with TERRANCE.
When my own people are more afraid of getting caught by the police or a mythical vigilante then they are of me, that tells me something. It tells me that the time of traditional crime has officially entered a decline. We can earn back the money but the reputation…the fear. We're not going to get that back unless we do something drastic.
Do you want me to call in a specialist? Like Maroni did?
Don't be ridiculous, Maroni got into bed with that moronic clown because HE'S a moronic clown and liked the company. We need to call some one controllable, logical. Intelligent.
What do we do about Batman?
PENGUIN (makes a dismissive gesture)
What about him? He's one man, not an army and I prefer not to dwell on insignificant matters.
The PENGUIN reaches into his coat and pulls out a small card.
He hands it to TERRANCE.
I've used this man before. He's good.
The PENGUIN walks away
TERRANCE turns over the card to reveal a name: EDWARD NIGMA.
The Riddler Introduces Himself:
EXT STREET CORNER-DAY
RAMIREZ walks her beat in full uniform, her shoulders heavy
She looks down at a news stand, there's a picture of her on the front page
Headline: "Case Dismissed: Disgraced Cop Keeps Job"
RAMIREZ sighs, tries not to look the news vendor in the eye
She crosses the street, eyes on her shoes
When she looks up there's a tall, thin man standing in front of her wearing a bowler. Question marks on his tie and his hat
THE RIDDLER (tips hat)
Good afternoon, are you Ana Ramirez?
RAMIREZ looks around for a moment, embarrassed.
Yes you are. It is you. That's lovely. Excellent. (pulls out a little book, thumbs through the pages a moment. Puts the book away) Maybe you can help me answer a question: "I have no teeth but I bite down hard, I have no legs but I run quite fast, you never see me but everyone meets me. Who am I?"
RAMIREZ stares at the man, confused.
She opens her mouth to answer-
-THE RIDDLER pulls out a gun and shoots her in the throat
RAMIREZ grabs her throat as blood gushes down her chest. She wheezes and gasps for air, then falls to the street in a heap
THE RIDDLER sits down, Indian style, and sets the gun beside RAMIREZ'S body
The view moves over head to show RAMIREZ'S is lying on her side in a curved position, and THE RIDDLER is sitting at her feet…
It looks like a question mark.
INT. INTERROGATION ROOM- DAY
THE RIDDLER sits across from MONTOYA and BULLOCK; he smiles arrogantly but says nothing.
BULLOCK rolls his eyes, they've been there forever.
You gotta talk to us some time.
THE RIDDLER shifts in his seat for a moment, acts like he's going to say something…
…BULLOCK and MONTOYA lean forward…
…then he leans back smiling, saying nothing.
BULLOCK slams his fist on the table.
God damn it!
Harvey, take it easy.
This guy shot a cop!
BULLOCK (pointing at RIDDLER)
TALK GOD DAMN IT!
THE RIDDLER smirks, checks his watch, looks up at BULLOCK with a smile
Wanna hear a riddle?
"What fastens two people together but only touches one of them?"
What the fu-
THE RIDDLER rolls his eyes
Don't you even want to guess? The Metropolis Police would've at least guessed by now.
I want your name, scumbag!
RIDDLER (ignores him)
Fine, here's an easier one: "Until I am measured, I am not known, yet how you miss me when I have flown. Who am I?"
BULLOCK and MONTOYA look at each other, confused
Sir, I'm afraid-
RIDDLER (getting annoyed)
I'm afraid you're an idiot. Last chance: "How many three cent stamps in a dozen?"
BULLOCK jumps on this one
BULLOCK (thinks a moment)
A dozen, moron. There are a dozen stamps in a dozen. (sighs) Wow…pathetic. (leans forward) Okay, playtime's over: "If you have it, you want to share it. If you share it, you don't have it. What is it?"
RIDDLER (tilts head, slightly impressed)
Good girl. I have a secret, I want to share it. Do you remember that little green box I had with me? (waits for MONTOYA to pull out his personal effects, waits for her to get a little green box out of an evidence bag, smiles) Open it.
The two cops exchange another look, and then look over at the mirrored observation window
It's not a bomb.
MONTOYA reaches down and opens the box
Inside is a little container with a yellow powder inside
THE RIDDLER smiles
That, my friends, is Uranium-233, an enriched form of nuclear fuel used in creating rods for reactors. I have about 2 pounds of the stuff attached to a small two-point linear implosion device, commonly referred to as a "suitcase nuke".
BULLOCK and MONTOYA are utterly speechless.
BULLOCK regains his senses.
You have my sample. Test it, I dare you, and when it comes back positive, please stop acting like buffoons and let me speak to someone moderately intelligent.
The cops stare at the RIDDLER, totally dumb founded.
What do you want?
I told you, I want to speak to someone with at least half a brain.
Nobody moves, nobody says anything. THE RIDDLER leans back in his chair and puts his feet up
Finally, MONTOYA gets up from her chair and pulls out her cell phone
MONTOYA (into phone)
Yeah it's Montoya, get me Jim Gordon's home number please…