A/N: On one of the tumblrs I run, Twinings and I offered ourselves up for one full week of filling fic prompts for our readers, varying in length from a hundred to a thousand-plus words. The project has been dubbed the Free For All Fic For All—or FFAFFA for short. This is one of those stories—and this is the boilerplate author's note you'll see on all of 'em.

Prompt: Batman is stone dead; how do the Riddler and Scarecrow respond?

"I can't believe he's really…" the Riddler hiccupped and sniffled quietly into his fifth gin martini.

The Scarecrow swirled the straw in his club soda, shifting the naked lady ice cubes around. He looked pointedly at the conga line that Kite Man was leading around the Iceberg Lounge. "Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

"You don't understand," Nygma wailed, "Batman is dead!"

Crane took a sip of his drink. "He'll most likely be back. They never stay dead."

Nygma dropped his glass and grabbed Jonathan by the lapels, shaking him. "You don't understand! What am I going to do? Who am I going to leave Riddles for? Who's going to chase me? Who's going to catch me? Who's going to fall into my traps?"

Crane didn't respond right away, just looked down at the hands grasping his jacket, then back up at his companion. Nygma took the hint and let him go. Meanwhile, Harley Quinn put a lampshade on her head and did a little dance on the bar.

"You act as though there isn't an entire Justice League," Crane said dispassionately.

"You can't understand. What Batman and I had was…" —the tears started in earnest now— "…special."

"How thrilling for you."

"Don't you care at all that he's gone?"

"No," the Scarecrow answered, finishing his club soda. "Can't say that I do."