Batman Reborn

Identity
Crisis
It was yet another bleak evening in Gotham City, the cesspool of crime
and corruption, in an uncertain future. Hover cars populated the skies of the
citys highest levels, home to the richest and privileges citizens, while the
lower levels, the underbelly, were home to the less fortunate citizens. The
sky was orange, already polluted from the gases of industry. Buildings
skyrocketed to the top like mountains, towering over the citizens below.
In one of the eastern train stations, a large vertical train, like an
elevator, was about to begin its ascent to the higher reaches. Its a single
car, filled with enough seats to fit twenty, with a vertical railing attached to it
to pull it up, like a pulley.
A panting businessman, short and stocky, was running towards a train.
Wait, hold the doors, he called out, as the doors were closing. A
single hand propped one of the doors back, as he rushed in. The doors
closed, and the train began its ascent up.
Thanks, I thought I was going to miss my train, he thanked, while
panting. Then, he looked up.
Oh no, he gasped, backing against the doors.
Standing before him, were the Jokerz, one of the most dangerous and
prominent gangs in the city, modeled after the original Joker himself. They
were, essentially, teenagers whose anger at the world could only be
expressed by violence and personal antics. They model themselves after
him, by dressing like him, and using jokes as a crutch for their acts of
violence and antics. There were three of them.
You hear that, Terminal, he thinks this is his train, said the African
American, talking to the teen in the middle. They all laughed in unison. The
teen in the middle was obviously the leader.
He was tall and had a medium build, with a totally Gothic look. He was
wearing a gray straitjacket with the sleeves coming down all the way to his
wrists. Even his fingernails were painted. He was dressed in all black pants
and shoes, except for his face, which was painted in black and white

makeup. His outer sides of his face were painted black and his face was
painted gray. Black colored in circles surrounded his eyes. Blades of his hair
fell down his forehead. He wore long, black hair that stopped at his
shoulders.
Among his gang was a tall African American who was wearing clown
boots that widened where his toes were. He was wearing brown pants, along
with a black T-Shirt that read Class of 2030 with the word FLUNK! spraypainted over it. He had a trash bag slung over his shoulder. His face was
painted white like a clown.
The third member was a teenaged girl, with white makeup completely
covering her face. She wore a pink prom dress that had been cut at the
knees, along with shoes. The sleeves were cut off as well. Her blond hair was
loosely tied together in a single ponytail. Her face was also painted white like
a clown.
You should really label the things you own, pops. I do, he smiled with
that ice cold voice. He snapped his fingers, and the girl handed him a spray
can.
He shook up the can some and sprayed a wiggly red pattern across the
mans expensive suit, and then tossed the can aside.
Please, dont hurt me, he whimpered.
Trey, Terminal said. The African American grabbed him by his tie and
threw him into one of the empty seats. Terminal casually sat beside him. He
looked at the mans nametag that read Harold.
You know Harold; its occurred to me that people nowadays arent
having any good jokes. Nothing, no one gets a good laugh. No whoopee
cushions, no nails on a seat, not even a simple knock-knock joke. That may
be the reason for Gothams economic crisis, if you ask me. Too much serious
talk, and no whoopee cushions. Its not right, Harold, wouldnt you agree?
he grinned.
P-P-P-Please dont hurt me. Ive got a family, he whimpered, with
every bone in his body shaking like an earthquake.
Now, being the good-natured citizens we are, we take it as a
responsibility to put smiles on every citizen in this joint. Dead, or alive,
anyway. Isnt that right, Dottie? he chided, ignoring his pleas.
Just as it was our founders vision, Mr. J, Dottie said, saluting, and
then pretending to shed a few tears. There was then a moment of silence.
But, no one pays attention to us anymore. All that happens on the
news is the Apocalypse Punks, flying cars, andBatman. But, have no fear,
Harry, a jokes on the way, he promised.
Ill pay you whatever you want. Just, please, Im begging you, he
whimpered.
If you say so, Terminal shrugged, cocking his blaster. Harold
squeaked and covered his eyes. Instead of aiming towards the pedestrian, he
instead fired it straight into the emergency stop button. The train
immediately stopped in mid-ascent, as the lights flickered off, and then back
on.

Trey, I think our client needs a joke, ASAP, Terminal ordered.

Chill, Harold, my friend, were not going to hurt you. Were just going
to give you a laugh, he replied calmly, patting him on the back.
This is what I get for taking the train again, he grumbled.
Hey Harold, what happened to the business man when he walked into
a train? Trey asked.
Arent you going to ask what happened, Harry? This is the funny part,
Terminal smiled.
He got chewed out, Trey finished, laughing out loud, dropping the
bag out. Harold now curled up in his chair, his heart pounding at what could
be in the bag.
Suddenly, razor sharp teeth jumped out of it. There were at least twenty sets
of them. They were mechanical, sharp teeth, modeled almost exactly out of
dentures. The two rows of mechanical teeth snapped shut every second and
then widened to repeat the same process. Instead of square humanlike
teeth, the gums were filled with shark like teeth. The gag teeth bounced up
and down and seemed to be set upon the businessman.
Dottie was doubled over in her seat laughing, and so was Trey. One of
the teeth landed on the spray can and sank its teeth into it. The chemicals
squirted out of the metal can.
Isnt that funny? Terminal grinned, playfully jabbing Harold in the
ribs.
Terminal rose to his feet, and snapped his fingers. Instantly, the rest of
his gang stopped laughing.
Well, crew, looks like weve brightened the life of just one more bored
citizen. Lets blow this stand, he said, walking towards the double doors. He
pulled them open without too much straining, revealing the city below.
Dottie mockingly blew him a kiss and skipped to the other side of the
train to join the others.
Keep smiling, Harold, Terminal saluted, drawing a grapple gun from
his belt.
You cant leave me here, Harold begged.
Sure we can, pop, were the Jokerz, remember? he answered, firing
the gun. A thin black cable shot out of the muzzle and knifed through the air.
It eventually speared through the head of a stone gargoyle, and stayed hook.
The gargoyle was sitting on a chimney on a rooftop, about fifty feet away.
Terminal took the other side of the cable out and tied it around a pole meant
for holding on too. One of the teeth bounced up to Harolds level and
snapped at him. It barely missed his face but managed to bite his tie. He
threw the tie off him and backed into the wall with nowhere else to go.
Terminal grabbed on to the cable first and dropped down. He slid down to
safety with his hands holding on to the line. He soon landed on the rooftop,
and the others followed suit, grabbing onto the cable and dropping down.
Now, lets end this with a final cut, shall we? Terminal chided, taking
out a knife and cutting the cable in half. The wire was now dangling from the
car, cutting off his means of escape. They all burst out laughing even louder.

Back in the train, Harold was curled out in a corner, too scared to get
up.
Please someone, help me, he murmured, as the first pair of teeth
bounced towards his face.
Suddenly, a Batarang shot through the air and speared the pair of
teeth in half with a single clean thrust. Harold then glanced to the side to see
a familiar figure crash through the window and land in front of Harold. He
was dressed in black with a single red bat-shaped object in the center. He is
Batman.
Jokerz, he grumbled angrily.
Batman drew four more Batarangs out of his belt, each fitting between
his fingers and threw them. They speared the closest four more sets of teeth
to him, but more were still bouncing towards them. He drew four more on his
other hand and threw them, destroying four more sets of teeth.
More sets of teeth appeared out of the bag and bounced towards them.
Hang on, he ordered, grabbing the man by the coat.
Were going to die, Harold whimpered.
Not on my watch, Batman assured, kicking open the doors on their
side. He picked Harold up on his right shoulder and lifted one of his arms out.
A retractable red bat-shaped wing folded out. He sprung out of the car, and
ignited his rocket thrusters on the bottom of his shoes. They flew out of
there.
Batman pulled up some so they could land roughly on a nearby
rooftop. He placed the man back down and turned back to the train car.
Thank you, whoever you are. For a second there, I thought we were
dead, he thanked.
Batman turned back to him, and glanced back at the chemical painted
around Harolds suit. He scooped up enough to fit his finger and held it up to
his face. The smell was all too familiar. He tasted it with his tongue.
Barbecue sauce, that is funny, Batman stated, taking another glance
at the man, extending his wings and springing off the rooftop. He glided
away.
Terminal watched all of this with a bitter expression on his face.
Leave it to Batman to spoil a good joke, Dottie sighed.
Dont worry, well spread more joy to more citizens, right, Terminal?
Trey asked.
Nah, Im crashing for the night. Later, Terminal said, walking along
the rooftop. He stopped at the edge and dropped down to another rooftop
only three feet below. His gang followed, confused.
But, we havent even gotten started yet. Theres still a whole city out
there that needs a smile and we still got time, Dottie insisted.
I said later, alright! he snapped suddenly.
Whats the matter, fearless leader? Need your beauty sleep? Trey
mocked.
That joke stopped Terminal dead in his tracks. He turned back to Trey
with that same sadistic smile.

The leader grabbed him by his collar and swung him off the edge of
the building. Treys feet were barely touching the ground.
Dont make fun of me, Terminal warned coldly.
Okay, okay, Trey quickly responded, looking down below.
Good, he smiled, letting go of his shirt.
Trey lost his balance and fell over. He only dropped a couple of feet
before barely managing to cling to a flagpole.
Terminal turned away without saying another word and walked away.
Before you knew it, school was in full gear the next day. The second
bell of the day signaled the transition from 1st Block to 2nd Block with a
transition travel time of four minutes, before the tardy bell rings. Teenagers
flooded the hallways, each heading towards a different destination. The mass
majority of teens moved to the side to give way to a group of peppy
cheerleaders heading their way. The girls performed some minor chants to
get the crowd excited.
Bruce Wayne and his best friend, Tommy Jensen, were just exiting from
their homeroom classroom. Bruce was dressed in his usual pants and black
shirt. He had combed back some of the thick strands of hair that came down
at his face like vines, but his eyes were still genuinely sleepy. Tom, on the
other hand, was well-rested and dressed in casual clothing.
Tommy, my man, after several hours of studying this book of Algebra,
I have come to the single conclusion, that this book is boring, Bruce
concluded, closing the Algebra book.
And, youve just found that out after reading the Table of Contents?
Tom replied, annoyed.
It was a boring Table of Contents, alright?
Dude, youve got to study this stuff if you even want to borderline
pass the GATs, Tom pressed.
Speaking of that, arent the results for the Mock GATS in by now?
Tommy recalled.
Dont remind me. I didnt finish last week thanks to that stupid
hostage being tied to a bomb. Jeez, how come the cops cant do anything in
this time except yell in a microphone and try to arrest me? Bruce replied.
I hate to break it to you, Bruce, but that was two days ago. You just
skipped class that day to take one of your vacations. Now, if you dont
mind, I cant wait to see my name at the top, Tom bragged.
They walked up to the results computer. By simply tying in your
Student I.D Number, you could see what score you achieved on a test, and
what rank it was placed at on the board of all graded student test papers.
They lined up behind a freckled redhead girl who just finished typing
in her I.D Number.
It took the computer about ten seconds to finalize and show her test
results on the screen.
Please be a Pass. Please be a Pass, she prayed softly. Her score
pulled up on the screen, with a PASS.

The girl scored 3500 out of the possible 5000 points, in numerical
values, scoring a 70%. She placed 400 out of the 429 kids.
YES! Moms going to be so proud! she exclaimed, impressed. A
plastic card with the numbers printed on it popped out of the card slot. She
picked it up and walked away.
Now, stand back, my friend, because there is a weather prediction of
a storm heading this way, and his name, is Hurricane Jensen. You might want
to leave, because its about to get hot in here! Tom bragged.
Tom, Bruce started.
Hold on a second bro, Im getting in my groove, he smiled.
You dont have a groove, dude. Just last week, you kept on saying you
had a math mojo, Bruce said.
How much do you want to bet that I got a perfect score? Tom added.
Just punch the numbers in, Jensen. We all know you passed, Bruce
stated, rolling his eyes.
Tom dramatically dialed in his I.D Number and crossed his fingers as
his score pulled up on the screen.
It was a near perfect score! Tom had scored 4900 out of 5000 points.
He ranked #3 out of the 429 student body, with an excellent score of 98%.
Great job, Tom, you did better than last time, Bruce congratulated.
Tom only looked at his numerical score, not his actual ranking though.
Oh yeah! Tom shouted, and then threw his fists up in the air. He then
started to dance in the hallway, twisting his arms and legs into different
combos.
Yeah, Tommy gun? Bruce said, after closely looking at the data on
the screen.
Yeah? Tom replied, still doing his weird dance.
You ranked #3 on the board, Bruce told him simply.
Say what? Tom responded, immediately stopping. He looked at the
screen again with a closer look.
But, who couldve score higher? he demanded.
Hey guys, came a female voice from behind them.
They turned around to see Maxine Gibson.
Max was an African American girl who was in their homeroom. Her skin
was a light caramel complexion and she had black eyes. Unlike most girls,
she didnt have that extreme hair or facial style that many girls had. She had
short dyed pink hair that stopped just at her neck. She was of average height
and was very light.
She was wearing a yellow shirt that ended at her shoulders, with an
armband wrapped around each of her elbows. Black pants ran all the way
down to her ankles, and sneakers on booth feet finished it off. She had a very
simple outfit, and look, unlike the hip style of the future. She was really one
of the smartest girls in school, a straight A student.
Hey Max, Bruce greeted.
Hey, Tom greeted as well, feeling a little nervous.

I just came by to check up on my GAT scores. No big deal, right? she

shrugged, with a very mature and not girlish or high-pitched tone.
Hey, whats your I.D Number? Ill punch it in for you, Bruce offered.
The last prime number before my birth year, she told him.
There was silence for a couple of seconds.
Wait, what did you just say? Bruce asked dumbfounded.
She smiled and typed in the numbers herself. Her score pulled up on
screen.
No big deal? Max, you got a perfect score, Bruce said, looking at the
results.
Wait, what? Tom gasped. She scored 5000 out of 5000 points,
making her #1 on the board.
Thats cold, bro. You just got smoked at your game, Bruce joked,
patting the shocked Tom on the shoulder.
But, thats impossible, Tom stammered.
Well, I do dabble in a little studying after school, she admitted
modestly.
Dont beat yourself over it, Jensen, I guess I just got lucky, Max
smiled.
Youd have to be more than lucky if you wanted to beat Carter
Grayson, Bruce pointed out, looking at the overall leaderboard. Carter
placed #2 in the rankings.
A few yards away from them, Carter himself and his posse were
examining a leaderboard of the Mock GATs.
Carter was a tall and athletic student, probably one of the most
popular kids in the high school. With red hair, smooth white skin, blue eyes,
and a strong build, he was a dream boat to most cheerleaders. He was
wearing a sports jacket and pants to match it.
In fact, now a blonde cheerleader was standing near him as one of his
colleagues, a fellow jock, typed in Carters I.D number and pulled up his
score.
A near-perfect score, Carter! Way to go, his friend congratulated.
Yeah well, the future class valedictorian has to set an example, he
said, brushing the achievement away.
With scores like that, youre a shoe-in for valedictorian, the female
added, leaning against his right shoulder as they started to walk away.
Yeah, a shoe-in. So what if you didnt get the top score, his friend
smirked.
What? he murmured dismayed. He turned around and walked back
to the score board. His name was right under Max Gibsons rank, a perfect
score.
Im sure youve still got the spot, the cheerleader assured.
For a second there, boiling anger could be seen in his eyes.
Then, he turned around to see Bruce, Tom, and Max walking towards
him, and the angry expression vanished off his face.

Hey Max, congrats on the top score, he smiled, extending his hand
towards Max. His smile seemed forced.
No big whoop. Its just a test, she said, lightly slapping his palm.
Dont be so modest, Max. Judging by your scores, Id say you could
give Carter here a run for valedictorian, Bruce pointed out.
What about me? Tom interrupted.
You know the old saying, theres always next year, Bruce jeered.
Well, you never know what could happen between then and now,
Max, he smiled, walking past them, along with his posse.
So, done anything interesting lately? Bruce asked.
Well, just a little hobby Im been working on, she admitted, stopping
by her locker and typing in the digits on the built in key pad. The locker
automatically opened, and she reached in for something.
If you must know, Im doing a little research on Batman, she told
them, much to Bruces surprise. The smile quickly vanished from his face.
Tom started to scratch his head.
She pulled out a blueprint of Batman. It was a complete photo of his
suit, probably taken from a camera. He was in a standing position. There
were lines pointing to his mask, gauntlet, utility belt, and boots. It also had a
bunch of notes up there.
I needed a hobby, and it sure beat Math Club. I recently invented this
new computer program, Identity Crisis, to help me out. It searches the net for
specific information about Batman, based on his public appearances. Then, I
use various computer programs to figure out his physical descriptions, she
explained confidently, handing the diagram to Tom.
Hes between Five Foot Seven and Six Feet, between 16 and 30, a
citizen in Gotham City, preferably someone rich or innovative enough to
have such an impressive array of gadgets at his disposal, Tom read.
Im trying to figure out his secret identity, she revealed.
Bruce was stunned, at this announcement.
Lets be realistic here, Max. The guys been around for decades now.
How could he possibly be that young? Tom pointed out, trying to catch her
off guard too.
Ive figured out that this a new Bat. Probably the son of the original
Batman, or something, she replied simply.
Max, dont you think that theres a reason why this guy wears the
mask? I mean, I, personally dont think he wants anyone to know who he, or
she, really is, Bruce pointed out as well.
The way I see it, the more people who know who he is, the better well
understand him and why he protects us, she said.
But, those descriptions could fit anyone in this city, Tom pointed out
one last time.
Dont worry; Ive already mapped that part out. Every single day
every piece of data narrows it down. Soon, Ill have the guy cornered, Max
exclaimed, as Tom handed her back the blueprints.

Heres another interesting fact! I know hes connected to this very

high school, she whispered. Bruce gulped.
Yep, based on security footage Ive acquired, Batman seems to fly to
the back of the school almost every single morning, and just in time for the
bell. My guess is that he changes into his civilian clothes first, and blends
into the crowd, she predicted.
That sure is a good guess, Bruce murmured.
The bell rang.
Well, Id better get to my computer programming class. See you! she
smiled, putting the blueprint in her locker and taking out a textbook. She
then closed her locker and walked away.
You dont think? Tom started, talking softly so she wouldnt hear.
Lets hope Im wrong, but all her data, everything, is pointing to me. If
shes as smart as I think she is, by the end of this week, shell know, Bruce
whispered back.
So, what are we going to do? We cant just sabotage her project. What
kind of friends would we be? Tom pointed out.
We have to do something, before its too late, Bruce concluded, as
they walked to class.
Later that evening afterschool, the news of the GAT score was hitting
yet another student.
Carter Grayson was sitting on his bed, looking at his SAT score on the
printed plastic card. It labeled his name, numerical score, and ranking on the
board. He was #2. Frustration and anger could clearly be seen on his facial
expression.
The door creaked open, and he briefly glanced in that direction to see
his mother.
She was a middle-aged woman with dim blond hair with shades of gray.
She had very frail and wrinkled skin, a sign of old age. She wore a simple
buttoned shirt and a skirt, along with expensive high heels. She had black
lipstick and some blush.
He handed her the card without speaking. She glanced at it only once
and sat with him on the bed.
Honey, how could you of done so poorly on the GATs, she told him.
But mom, I almost got a perfect score, he replied.
Almost. Almost doesnt get you almost anyway, dearest, she
snapped.
Im sorry, Ill try harder next time, he vowed.
Carter dear, Im your mother, and I love you like anything else, but
this is unacceptable. You should know better than this. I thought I trained you
better, she nagged.
I blame those scrawny little cheerleaders youre always with. Theyre
getting in the way of your studying, and Ill see to it that they never come by
this house again, she promised.

Come on, mom, I beat the entire school on the board. Only one person
scored higher, he pointed out.
Well, then, thats different then, honey, she replied, with an
immediate tone of voice. Now, it was joyful and proud.
Really? he said, bringing his head up to face his mother.
Yes dear, I suppose that makes you the winning loser, she responded
coldly.
Oh, he murmured, dropping his head back down in shame.
And, if my opinion doesnt matter than you, than I cant see why you
need me anymore to help you, she declared, standing up and giving him the
slip.
But, mom, he started.
No buts, you need to study to be the best. To truly be the best, you
have to squash the competition dead under your feet, to be the best. But,
you arent the best, Carter, not yet at least, she told him, before leaving the
room and pulling the door shut.
You arent the best, Carter. His mothers harsh words rang through
his mind like bells, constantly reminding him of his GAT score.
He ripped the plastic card in half and stood up, with a different look on
his face.
He walked to the other side of his room and sat down at the desk. He
looked behind him to make sure she was gone and then pulled a dusty brown
box from under his desk out. He gently placed it on his desk, and opened the
lid.
Not the best, eh? Well just see about that, he grinned, licking his lips
at the contents. There were several cans of Halloween make-up inside each
one, and a loaded blaster in it too.
He popped the lids of them, and gently scooped some out on his
palms.
He pressed the ON button on his video phone. It was a tablet sized
phone with a screen large enough to fit the person talking on the other line.
You could clearly see the person whos talking to you in high definition. It was
also voice-activated.
He then started to rub each of the colors on his face in a different
pattern.
Vid phone, speed dial 6, he commanded, still coloring his face with
make-up.
Ringing sounds could be heard, and then someone picked up the
phone.
An image finally pulled up on screen. It was the same African American
Joker from last night. He was wearing the same outfit, and was leaning
against a flagpole. This was obviously a vid phone from outside the city. It
was Trey.
Whats up, boss? he greeted.

Get the whole gang together by midnight, and have them meet at the
high school. I have a little business to take care of there, he said, doing the
finishing touches on his makeover.
Well be there, Trey promised.
Carter grabbed a towel and washed the remaining drips off. He
grabbed a wig with very familiar black hair and put it over his natural red
hair. Finally, he turned around.
Terminal, Trey finished. The same Jokerz leaders facial appearance
appeared on Carter Graysons face. Carter was Terminal.
Later that night, in another part of Gotham City, yet another crime was
taking place. And, it was taking place on the ground level at an old alley that
reeks of old-fashioned structure. It was one of the few districts left in Gotham
that still carried on the old values of a 20th Century city.
A chair suddenly broke through the window from inside a jewelry shop.
The jewelry shop was closed for business at night, but evidently somebody
didnt care.
A thief jumped through the window and kept on running. He was a
desperate young man with black clothing on. A mask with small holes cut out
for his eyes, nose, and mouth covered his eyes to avoid identification. He
was carrying a small bag full with jewels and carried a crowbar on the other
hand for defense.
His head was constantly looking back for any signs of a pursuer.
But, a hidden pursuer was already trailing him, from above.
Batman was tailing him silently, without him even knowing. His wings
shot out from beneath his arms, acting as a glider to give him flight
capabilities. He was flying right above the masked robber, keeping silent.
The wings retracted back into his suit as he somersaulted in the open
air before landing on a fire-escape exit on the back of an apartment. Instead,
of jumping right into the action, he pulled out a peculiar device. It was a
modified Bat-Claw, one of the original Batmans most potent weapons.
It was a small grappling gun, small enough to fold into his utility belt.
Instead of holding ammo clips, at the muzzle was a small red bat-shaped
claw, capable of extending and grabbing a nearby target. It was had a threelegged claw at the front, for grabbing an object.
He aimed it at the unsuspecting thief and pressed the trigger. Instantly,
the bat-shaped claw shot out of the muzzle. A thin metallic wire was
attached to the end of it.
It shot towards the thief silently, and the three-legged claw grabbed his
left ankle, causing him to fall. Swept off his feet, he dropped the bag of loot
and the crowbar. Batman took the other end of the wire out from inside of
the muzzle. It had a small leather box at the tip for him to grab. He put the
weapon away and reeled the wire in, taking the man in as well.
Soon, he was dangling about ten feet from the ground; the only thing
holding him up was the claw. Batman tied the other end around the railing,
and made sure it was tied tight.

It wasnt long before the thief was hanging limp in the air, probably
unconscious.
Hey, Tom, this new Bat-Claw works like a charm. Much easier than
having to actually beat him up down there, Batman commented.
You can thank your dad for that. He left a bunch of gadgets down here
for you. It wasnt that hard to figure out how to use that thing, Tom said
modestly.
His rocket thrusters ignited, sending him high into the air. He spread
his wings out and glided along the underbelly of the city. Another quick
rocket boost sent him flying even higher up. He reached the second level of
the city and glided along the massive display of futuristic buildings, each
designed in its own unique shape and size. He glided just above the sea of
hover cars below him. They were flying to their own destinations while
staying within the narrow, highway like areas.
His wings folded back and he jumped on a rooftop. He ran all the way
to the edge before vaulting over the railing. He dived headfirst into a rooftop
below. One hand grabbed the radio pole, and launched his whole body off of
it. He somersaulted in the air before landing on a fire-escape.
He backed against the wall, as a patrol GPD helipad flew by.
I still cant believe Max and her program are about to find out whos
really behind this suit, Batman said.
Hey, shes smart, but not Tom Jensen smart, alright. I wouldnt be
surprised if she thinks its Ernie Day, that kid with the pretzels from BioClass, Tom smirked.
Thats the whole point, man. Ive only been Batman for like a month
now, and I feel like Im making a difference in this messed up joint. If Max
finds out the deeds, then shell probably blurt it out to every single news
station in town. Ill be stuck in a media cloud, and then all my lovable little
playmates will know exactly where to find me when Im not Batman,
Batman said, scratching the back of his head.
Then, do what you normally do when youre Batman. Punch her in the
mouth, send a Batarang into the computer, and study when you get back.
Its so obvious, Tom said simply.
Yeah, usually Im the one who comes up with the crazy ideas, and
even I know thats a bad one, Batman denied.
Hit her with a textbook, he suggested.
Tom, youre not helping, Batman said.
Sure, when I come up with the crazy idea, you have to blow it off,
Tom mumbled.
Suddenly, a police siren rang from down below. There were a few
gunshots.
Uh oh, looks like my phones ringing. Id better go answer it, for the
hundredth time in a row, he sighed, as his wings retracted out. His boot
thrusters ignited, and he flew away.

But, down below, another costumed menace would be pondering about

the same person, Maxine Gibson.
A couple of miles south of Batmans current location stood Hamilton
Hill High School. Four whole floors of classrooms filled its hallways. Only the
outside street lights were still on, the school was closed, but not for long.
Three motorcycles pulled up outside, right at the entrance. The riders
deactivated the bikes and dismounted.
They were Jokerz, the same gang.
Terminal rode the first bike solo, still dressed in the straitjacket and
make-up. Trey and Dottie rode the second bike, each dressed in the same
outfit.
This place gives me the creeps, Terminal. I havent been to a school
since the sixth grade! Trey complained.
Tell me about it, I havent been since the fourth grade! Dottie
laughed.
The fourth gang member dismounted and accompanied them.
Alright, Weasel, glad you could join us, Terminal acknowledged.
Weasel was dressed in very unusual and tacky clothing. First, he had
on tight brown leather pants, and a T-Shirt that read Jokerz with the letters
being scribbled. He wore a pink jacket and also had white make-up covering
his whole entire face, like a clown. There were even blush dots on his cheeks.
He carried a can of spray paint on one hand and a baseball bat on the other.
You know me, boss, whenever theres vandalism to be done, Im
there, he assured.
Alright, gang, listen up. This old schools been in need for a serious
make-over for years now. Its been too serious, with its tests and teachers,
andstudents. So, its our natural responsibility to turn that frown outside
down right? he smiled.
They all sloppily saluted like army privates.
Good, now lets get started, shall we? he proposed.
Whoops and cheers went up from his gang of Jokerz.
Five minutes later, the school did undergo a make-over.
There was a poster of an upcoming homecoming dance taped on the
wall between lockers. It was a picture of a couple dancing along to some
music.
Weasel spray painted the words SCHOOLS OUT on it, before running
down the hallways dropping water balloons after him. They splattered on the
ground, releasing the water from inside. The whole gang was at work.
Spray paint was covering whole rows of lockers. A rotten orange was
slipping off of a picture of the principal, Mr. Erwin. Toilet paper rolls came
down the flights of stairs like red carpets. The air smelled of rotten fruit.
Water fountains were busted open, letting loose gallons of water on the
floors. Whole hallways became mini-lakes, as the water seeped through
cracks in the bathroom doors, from sink leaks. The water was at least half an
inch tall, while running through the hallways.
Dottie burst through a classroom door on a wheel-operated chair.

WHEEEEEEEEE! she exclaimed while on the chair.

Trey was dropping practical whoopee cushions on classroom desks and
chairs, leaving an unexpected surprise for kids the next day.
And, Terminal was at work as well. He looked at the leaderboard posted
on the wall. He grabbed the giant poster and dropped it on the ground.
Weasel was hurling confetti in the air like it was a party and spray
painting lockers at the same time.
After five minutes of vandalizing the school, the gang was gathered in
the computer room. Terminal was sitting down at a disk, examining the GAT
scores. He was mostly staring at one particular students score that was
above his. Maxs score.
Boys, and girls, theres just one more workaholic we need to smile on,
and this is her, Terminal instructed, pulling up a picture of Max Gibson.
Lookie here, shes pretty, Weasel remarked.
Not for long, Weasel. You see, little Miss Max insulted my intelligence
on the GATs. You know what that means dont you? he told them.
No chocolate kisses for her, Dottie giggled.
You see, Max has gotta know what happens when you mess with the
Jokerz. And, we need to get her a crash course, Terminal said.
Fine by me, Trey added.
Were going to have some fun putting a smile on her face, Terminal
grinned, drawing his blaster. He fired a shot. It went right through her face.
Scratch one nerd, he smiled, as the rest of his gang cackled.
The next day in Hamilton High came faster than you would expect,
with the facility and authorities still pondering about the gangs vicious
attack on the school.
In a hallway, Bruce, Tom, and Max were walking through the carnage of
the Jokerz. Custodians were washing out the spray paint with water hoses.
Electricians were trying to fix the student access computers that had bullet
holes in the screens. GPD officers were walking through the hallways as well,
keeping an eye out for any suspects.
Jokerz, the low-life scum, Max snarled, after looking at the damage.
Dont worry, Max, its just another one of their pranks. I doubt your
score was affected at all, Bruce assured.
Dont be so sure about that. Look, Tom said, pointing ahead.
In front of them, was the giant computer system that told them their
GAT scores. A chair was sticking out of the very center of the screen. Several
other cracks had formed, due to the force it was thrown at. Even now, the
janitors who were on the top of a ladder were struggling to remove the chair
gently without the glass shards being spread everywhere.
Jokerz and school. It doesnt add up, if you ask me. I doubt half of
them have ever seen the inside of one, Bruce pointed out.
Ill tell you what doesnt add up. Those punks targeting me. Just today
when I was walking past my portrait of winning that computer science award,
I saw a pig drawn over my face, she told them.

Dont let them get to you, Max. Theyll only bring you down to their
level, Bruce advised.
Huh, and here I am taking advice from the guy who makes passing
hard and failing a blast, she joked, walking to her locker.
Hey, I didnt fail every class this semester, Bruce argued.
Look, Wayne, even a rich boy like you could use even my help
sometimes. Think about it, alright? she smiled, typing in the combination on
the pad. When she finished, the locker creaked open a little.
You know what; Im starting to forget about that Batman project. Dont
be surprised if I start a search on whos a Joker at this school. See how funny
it is when theyre the ones behind bars, she said.
If anything, someone needs to tell those Jokerz how to spell. Ive seen
elephants who can spell better, Tom remarked, nodding at some writing on
the wall that was misspelled.
Suddenly, a click was heard from inside of Maxs locker.
What the, she started, before barely managing to throw herself to
the right.
Suddenly, a huge projectile shot out of her locker at top speed. Bruce
pulled Tom back as it narrowly missed the very tip of their noses. It crashed
on the wall, and the teens recovered enough to make out what it was.
No way! Tom exclaimed.
It was a steel pan, which held a very familiar food that was now
dripping out. It was a blueberry pie, straight from the oven. Its probably
been sitting in her locker all night. Pie crumbs and the liquid were dripping
down to the floor.
Yep, Im definitely staying over tonight. Im sidelining my Batman
thing for now, but those smirking little punks are about to get a piece of my
mind, and computer. Now, its personal, she snarled, storming away.
You know, maybe Max was on to something. What if someone in this
school is targeting her? Tom asked.
Tom, cancel our little study date at the library. I got me a stakeout to
get ready for, Bruce grinned, ready for action.
But, I already rented our study room, Tom complained.
Saving the day comes first, remember? Bruce said, walking away.
Shouldve seen that one coming, Tom grumbled, before going to
class.
Carter Grayson was listening on the whole conversation a couple of
feet away.
He grinned and cracked his knuckles, before joining his posse.
Later on that night, Batman was sitting on top of a stone gargoyle. He
was atop a building overlooking Hamilton High. He could see the American
flag on top and the schools sign on the lawn, but no suspicious activity.
He looked at his wrist and pressed a button on his gauntlet. The time
appeared in bright red numbers. It was 10:47 with no activity.
Tom, Im beginning to hate this job, he yawned.

You, Ive been sitting here for hours, listening to you moan and groan
about how you hate this job. You know, I have a life outside this stinking cave
too, Tom argued.
A life of what? Studying stuff all day. You know, I have a girlfriend,
Bruce replied.
No, you dont. You havent had one in weeks, Tom said.
Yeah, but usually that excuse gets me out of class, Bruce smiled.
Really? Tom yawned.
Yeah, and I dont even get a decent thank-you from anybody except
when I actually rescue them. But before I rescue them, the only thing good
they can say about me is that I havent blown up the city yet. Seriously,
wheres the appreciation? Bruce complained.
Im just guessing here, but the appreciation is gone mainly because
you abandoned them for twenty years, and let the crime rate shoot up, Tom
told him.
Being Batman when youre still 16 doesnt really make you that cool,
Tom. This suit is itching, Ive got just about every crook in town after my
long-eared mask, and Im barely passing high school. Man, Ive got issues,
Bruce said, after hearing what he just said.
Wait, a second, I think Ive figured out something, Tom said.
What, that you have no social life or a girlfriend? Bruce smiled
sarcastically.
No, besides me, who got the second highest score on the Mock GATs?
Tom asked.
Carter, why? Bruce told him.
Yeah, Carter, whos been second rate to Max ever since middle school.
Shes won almost every single award, while Carters only gotten Honorable
Mention. Dont you think all those years of built-up anger towards Max would
explode if he was one of the Jokerz? Tom explained.
Tommy gun, you know I respect your opinions, but now youre just
making up stuff. I mean, Carters a jock, but not stupid. Mason is both stupid
and a jock, but not Carter. Why would he waste his life being a clown when
hes got everything going for him? he laughed.
Its a start, compared to the detective work youve done lately, Tom
countered.
Hey, Ive done some detective work, Bruce argued.
Finally, three motorcycles entering through the school gates. They
circled around the giant fountain in the center twice before stopping. They
were Jokerz. Oblivious to Batman, one of their members got off a bike and
ran inside the school. That one was Terminal. The others, Dottie, Weasel, and
Trey got off their bikes along with some items.
Wait a second; theyre that same gang from that train routine a while
back. Why are they here? Bruce said.
Dont know, probably one of their pranks again, Tom suggested.
Why am I getting the feeling that theyre here for Max? Bruce sighed,
rising to his feet.

Well, I guess I might as well give them a good old Hamilton Hill High
welcome, Batman smiled, extending his wings out. He dived down, heading
straight towards them.
Back in the entrance, the Jokerz were already at work vandalizing the
entrance. Trey shook up a can of spray paint and sprayed a beard on the
statue of Robert Hamilton, the founder of the school. He sprayed some other
facial hair on the statues head, cackling all the way.
Hey, guys, check out the founder of this joint after his makeover,
Trey smiled.
The rest of the gang laughed to his antics.
Dottie grabbed a confetti cannon from a bike and popped out the lid
releasing the contents. A multitude of ribbons and strips of paper shot into
the air once released. The contents soared in the air before exploding,
literally. Each strip of paper blew up.
Weasel was busy running around and hurling water balloons
everywhere. The balloons exploded once it hit the walls.
Trey was about to throw a rotten egg at the statue when Batman
suddenly landed in front of them, his wings folding back into his suit. They all
stopped what they were doing and backed up. Weasel dropped his last
balloons, and Trey tossed the egg aside.
Sorry, kids, I dont see any hall passes, so Im going to have to ask
you to leave, Batman smiled.
Who died and made you hall monitor? Dottie said, sticking her
tongue out at him.
Yeah Bats, cant you let us have any fun? Weasel smiled.
Trey was slowly backing towards his bike.
Last time I checked, destroying private property isnt in the book for
having fun, Batman replied.
Trey grabbed something from his bike.
FOOD FIGHT! he yelled, throwing something at Batman. It was a
blueberry pie.
Batman easily dodged it, but thanks to that distraction, the other two
Jokerz ran to their bikes and grabbed metallic pans full of pie.
Great, he murmured.
They hurled the pans straight at him. He rolled out of the way and took
cover behind the school sign as the avalanche of pie continued to whistle
over his head.
After a few more pies that landed on the ground beside him, the
barrage stopped. They were out of ammo to throw at him.
Later, Bats, Weasel said, as they hopped on their bikes. Trey started
up his bike while Dottie hopped on Weasels bike.
With a cackle, they were racing away from the school.
I dont think so, Batman said, standing up and extending his wings.
He ignited his rocket thrusters, which sent him high in the air. Another boost
propelled him towards the delinquents.

Back at the school entrance, the Joker they left behind peered out of a
door. It was Terminal. He saw Batman leaving the campus to chase his crew
and smiled. He then backed into the doors.
The Jokerz below Batmans position were racing to lose Batman. They
narrowly avoiding approaching cars, missed bystanders, but still couldnt
lose him.
Trey, Batmans on our tail. What do we do? Dottie called to Trey.
They all looked up briefly to see that the hero was descending on
them.
Lets see how he likes this, Weasel snarled, producing a gun and
firing it above.
The shots, aimed at him, narrowly missed him by inches. Batman
maneuvered left and right to avoid the bullets.
Finally, he pulled up and went another direction.
We lost him, Weasel exclaimed.
Thatll show him, Trey bragged.
But, what they didnt know was that Batman wasnt done yet. He flew
ahead of them, just out of their prime sight.
He landed on a street about two blocks ahead of them. He took cover
in an empty alleyway, and produced his Bat-Claw. He grabbed a claw
attachment from his belt and fastened it to the muzzle of the gun.
He fired it straight ahead of him. The claw shot through the air, while
attached to a thin line of cable and finally attached to a brick wall on the
opposite alley. It dug straight into the brick wall by about an inch. The cable
was still sticking straight out on the street. He pulled the other end out and
after sheathing the gun tied it around a fence. The cable stood straight up
without touching the ground at about five feet.
By this moment, he could clearly hear the engines of the bikes getting
louder and closer. He stood back to see how his invention works. The two
bikes were just crossing the alleys when something stopped them. It was the
cable.
Based on the high speeds that they were going in, colliding with
another object at that speed was dangerous, as they would learn. The cable
hit them in the chests, knocking them off their bikes. They fell off their bikes
ultimately while their bikes skidded across the concrete and finally stopped
once they crashed into a pile of empty cardboard boxes. The Jokerz were
lying on the ground, stunned.
Trey, the first to recover, got up and started to run away. He was about
to turn around a corner when Batman landed in front of him.
Before the Joker could react, Batman picked him up by his shirt and
raised him a few inches above the ground with ease.
What were you doing there? Batman demanded. He then noticed
something dangling from his shirt. It was a necklace, but on the bottom was
a Student I.D Card, for staying after school and activating a locker when the
user forgot the numbers to the touch pad. Trey ignored this question.

And, what where you doing with this? he added, getting a closer look
at the card. There was a single picture of Maxine Gibson up there. Her name
was clearly printed across it, along with some school information and I.D
Number. From the look of it, it was a printed copy of the real card.
I use it to scrape bugs off my window, but its not working. Youre still
here, he smiled.
Why were you clowns trying to get in her locker? Batman said,
narrowing his eyes.
Shes a threat; were just trying to teach her a lesson. That so wrong?
Trey said.
Whats your boss got against her anyway? Batman said. He didnt
answer to this.
I get it; its because of that project of hers to find out who you bozos
really are. Its because she can finger you behind your grease paint, right?
Batman smiled.
Dont know anything about that. I just do what Im told, he shrugged.
Tell your boss to back off Max. Tell him Ill get Max off your case,
Batman told him.
You, how? You cant intimidate the Jokerz, Batman, Trey laughed.
Think you can relay that message back to your boss? Batman said.
Batman dropped the delinquent to the ground.
By this time, the whole gang had recovered.
Sure, Ill tell him once we reach the hideout, Trey agreed, getting up.
The rest of the gang was already pulling both bikes out of the heap of
cardboard. Trey joined them and they mounted their bikes.
With a loud yell from all of the members in unison, they started their
engines and rode away, leaving small puffs of smoke.
Well, that takes care of that, Bruce smiled, to him a job well done.
Is it me, or does that seem a little weird to you? I mean, Im no
Sherlock but didnt one of them get off at the school entrance? Tom said.
What? Batman replied.
Yeah, why would the Jokerz leave at the exact same time that you got
there? And, why would they lead you away from the school? Tom pointed
out.
Then, it all hit Batman, as he glanced at the fleeing Jokerz. It was all a
decoy to lure him away from the school.
Max! he exclaimed.
Back at the school, Max Gibson was sitting on a desk in the computer
lab, unsuspecting everything that was happened outside the computer lab.
She was seated at a computer, busily typing in the computer, with her
Identity Crisis computer program downloaded into the computer to help her
look for possible identities of Jokerz within the school.
After a few more seconds of typing, she stretched out in her chair, and
yawned.

Man, busting Jokerz is hard work. Maybe I should call it a night and
head home to catch at least a few hours of sleep, she yawned, looking back
at her work. She was narrowing down the list of Hamilton Hill students who
met the requirements set by the program to possibly be Jokerz. Every few
seconds, a student name was deleted off the list as more requirements were
added in.
Might as well call it a night before I overdo it, she told herself.
She pressed some buttons to save what she had done, and started to
finalize her research.
Suddenly, the intercom clicked on, even when it was at night and the
office staff was already gone.
A sinister laugh sounded through the intercom speakers.
What? she murmured confused.
Hello? Anybody there? she called out, looking around the lab. The
laugh got louder and louder.
Whats going on? she murmured.
Good morning students, this is Principal Terminal here with some
announcements, concerning our favorite know-it-all girl, Maxine Gibson,
said Terminals voice.
Whos there? she said louder.
Would Mrs. Maxine Gibson please report to the office? said Terminal.
She walked to the door and slowly opened it.
She walked out of the computer lab and into the hallway. There were
no signs of activity. The hallway was the same as she had left it.
The same sinister laugh started again.
Question, how many janitors does it take to clean up a messy hallway.
Answer? asked Terminal.
None, its all done by machines these days, he answered for her.
Suddenly, two janitor bots started to approach her from both ends of
the hallway.
They were small, foot long robots shaped like vacuum cleaners, except
without the handle. The janitor bots would suck trash into its containers
while small cannons mounted on top, would squirt out cleaning fluids, thus
eliminating the job of a janitor.
Pretty much everything is done by computers these days, everything,
except settle an old grudge, Terminal smiled.
Who are you? she yelled.
Youll find out soon enough or maybe not! Now, as you know, these
janitor bots can clean up any kind of trash, even trash like you who was long
overdue for a shipment straight to the junkyard, he laughed.
She rushed back to the door and tried to open it. The door was locked,
even though she didnt lock it from inside.
No, this cant be happening, she murmured, taking off her Student
I.D Card to manually unlock the door.

Oh, and dont worry about taking refuge in your little lab. I control all
automatic lock mechanisms from this very chair. Its amazing how much you
can do just from this chair, right? he smirked.
What do you want from me? she said, her voice shaky and afraid.
Payback, and since trash like you may be a little hard to dissolve, I
filled its cleaning fluids with something a little stronger, he smiled as they
got closer.
One of the bots shot out something from its cannon straight at her. She
backed away from the door just in time. The liquid landed on the door, and
sizzled loudly. Suddenly, the door itself began to disappear. Everywhere the
liquid touched, that part of the door dissolved. The liquid ate away at the
door until there was a large hole in the center where shed just been a few
seconds ago. There was only one specific liquid that could do this.
Acid! Terminal yelled gleefully. And with that, the two bots started to
approach her, cutting up her only means of escape.
Dont you just love technology these days? So reliable, so
dependable, he sighed with relief.
Please, stop! she yelled, getting up as the bots got closer to her.
Oh yeah, another thing, Ive marked you as left-overs from lunch
today, so if you try to run, theyll follow you, he added. She tried to run into
the bathroom but quickly threw herself away as the acid from one of them
reached the bathroom door first and quickly went to work eating away at the
wood.
Well, with just another friendly announcement, this is Principal
Terminal. Have a nice day! he concluded, clicking off the intercom.
She ducked as another spray of acid whistled past her head, narrowly
missing her pink hair, letting out a cry for help.
She stood up and looked both ways. There was no other way for her to
escape without being sprayed at least once. And, she accidently let go of her
I.D card which was on the floor. It would cost her life to try to get it.
The cannons moved up, directly aiming at her head. They were both
firing from both ends, so there would be no chance of missing her.
Just when there was no hope for Max, the window above shattered into
smaller glass shards. Batman dropped down from the window and landed
near her. He quickly grabbed her and jumped out of the way just as the bots
shot the acid out. With no object to connect with, their acid shot through the
empty space and was now hearing towards them. Before they could move,
the acid collided on the machines, dissolving through the plates of armor and
dripping into its main mechanisms. After a few sizzling sounds, the machines
stopped moving and shut down completely.
Batman and Max landed on the other end of the hallway, safe from
harm.
You alright? he said.
Yeah, I think. Thanks for the- she started, but Batman didnt give her
any time to finish. He got up and raced away, quickly turning around a
corner.

Batman, wait! she called, running after him. When she turned around
a corner, he was already gone.
Batman? she said, but no one answered.
She walked back to the computer lab and opened the door, as the
locking mechanism had already melted. She pushed open the door, still a
little shaken from the incident.
Max! came a voice from outside.
Bruce Wayne ran in, as if right on cue.
Max, are you alright? I heard screaming, he said, concerned.
Yeah, Im alright. Just a little shaken up, she replied.
What happened out in the hallway? I saw some trashed clean-up bots
and acid dropping down from the walls, Bruce said.
It was n-n-nothing, she told him.
You sure about that? he said. She sighed and finally explained to him
what was going on.
So, my point is, that I dont know why, but those clowns are after me,
and they wouldve gotten me just now, if Batman hadnt showed up, she
finished.
You got to take this to the cops, Max, he instructed.
They wont believe me either. I dont know what I should do, she said
quickly.
What you should do is scrap that program you got on them, Max.
Theyre only after you because of that. You have to delete it, Bruce insisted.
But, Im so close to finding out who those creeps really are, she
argued.
Max, you might figure out who they are, but it wont do anyone any
good if youre dead by then, Bruce pointed out.
Youre right, I need to end this program, she agreed after thinking
about it.
Good, Im going to check to see if anyone else is in the building, then
Ill talk you home, okay? Bruce said.
Thanks, Bruce, and by the way, howd you know to look for me here,
in school, in the middle of the night? she asked, stopping him in his tracks
before he could leave.
Uhhhh...Well, you see, he stammered, the question taking him off
balance.
Well, I was over at Toms place studying, when I saw Batman heading
towards the school. So, after figuring out that you were still here, I decided to
follow him, he lied, making it as truthful as possible.
Okay, she said, still not completely buying his cover-up story.
Back in a second, he assured, running down the hallway.
He may not be the smartest kid, but Bruce is alright, she said,
walking back to her computer. She pressed the audio command button,
letting her tell commands to the computer verbally.
Drag computer data file, Joker Identities, to Trash Files and Delete,
she said.

Command approved. Transferring data. Transferring completed data to

Trash Files and Delete, the computer replied, through its audio speakers as
the lists started to fade from screen.
Wait, reject previous computer command. Recover data file, Joker
Identities, recover data, she said, realizing that the data was now complete.
Recovering full data files. Do you wish a print-out? the computer
asked.
You bet I do, she said.
The computer printed off the final list of possible suspects to be Jokerz
within the school, based on absences, behavior, fights, and other important
factors.
I guess I could call the cops after I bust these Jokerz, she smiled,
looking at the paper.
Her eyes gazed slowly at each name of the paper, examining the
names of the suspects. There were ten names, each being prime suspects of
having a criminal identity. Most of them were jocks, outcasts, and other
students.
Her eyes scrolled up to the very top of the list, and she gasped.
There was one particular name at the very top. A name that she
wouldve never suspected. It was printed in clear black ink with no mistakes,
no errors.
No, it cant be, she gasped in horror, almost dropping the paper from
shock.
But, he wouldve never sounded the type. All this time, he was doing
all this to me, she gasped, unable to bear the news.
Just then, Bruce Wayne peeked through the doorway.
Hey, Max, coast is clear. Ill just prep up my bike out back and Ill take
you home, Bruce assured.
Yeah, right, she agreed, nervously. Beads of sweat ran through her
forehead.
Hey, you okay? Youre sweating or something? Bruce noticed.
Oh, just a little chill. Ill be fine, she smiled weakly.
Alright, back in a flash, he smiled, running down the hallway again.
She looked at the paper again, still in shock. That one name was the
programs best proved prime suspect.
Is Bruce, a Joker? she said.
The next day of school did arrive in a flash. Kids were hurrying towards
their classes.
In the center of a hallway, Max was pacing forward and backward,
chewing her fingernails as she examined the computer printout from the
night before.
I still cant believe it, she sighed, examining Bruces name on the list.
The computer didnt make any mistakes.
Bruce Wayne walked up to her, and she quickly slid the papers in her
textbook she was holding.

Hey, Max, I just came by to make sure you were still holding up from
last night. You erased that program, right? Bruce greeted.
Yeah, I erased it, alright? But, I found some interesting suspects just
before I scraped it out, she replied, with a hint of bitterness. The sentence
also acted like a hint, which Bruce didnt catch on too.
I doubt those buffoons will mess with you, but if they do, Im sure
Batman will come to your rescue, he joked.
Yeah, you sure do know Batman, huh? Almost like youve
encountered him before? she hinted a bit more clearly.
This statement threw Bruces next comment off his tongue before he
could say it. He stuttered a couple of seconds for another reply.
Well, I wouldnt say Im in his fan club, he shrugged.
By the way, you didnt talk much on the way home. Something
upsetting you? Bruce asked.
Yeah, I had the strangest feeling a Joker was nearby, she said.
The more you think about those clowns Max, the worst itll get. They
wont try to hurt you anymore, he assured.
Yeah, Bruce, can we talk inprivate? Max whispered, trying to get
him to reveal the truth.
Private? In this high school, this is as private as you can get unless
you go to the girls bathroom, Bruce laughed. She pulled him away from the
other crowds near the water fountains.
Bruce, you have to come clean with this. I know who you are, Max
abruptly said.
What? Bruce retorted with a sharp gasp. He was stunned,
flabbergasted.
You know were both good friends, but keeping a big secret like this?
This is too much, she whispered back.
What do you mean, about this big secret? Bruce stammered.
Come on, Bruce, all this time youve been hiding this secret and have
you even told your buddy Tom about it? Does he know what youve been up
to at night? she demanded.
Max, youve got this all wrong, Bruce said, thinking that she was
getting closer and closer to the inevitable truth about his other identity, as
Batman.
Do I? she retorted, with a pained expression on her face.
Suddenly breaking the tension, the bell rung.
This isnt over, she said, as Tommy Jensen walked up to Bruce.
Hey, Max, Bruce, we gotta get to Bio-Class before we get two
detention cards, like last time, Tom insisted.
Cant I get one more second? he said.
Nah, we got to hurry before the herd of sweaty jocks runs us over, he
said.
Well talk about this later, Max, Bruce suggested.
You bet we will, she murmured, as they walked away. She sighed
before turning around. She almost bumped into a grinning Carter Grayson.

Whats up, Mrs. Perfect? Carter grinned.

Hey, Carter, listen, Id love to stay and chat, but I have to get to my
computer programming class, Max insisted.
Hey Max, sorry about what happened last night. But, you know, being
Top Girl in school does make you a target for more than eager jocks, he
grinned.
Yeah, thanks for your concern, she replied weakly.
Im sure those Jokerz wont mess with you anymore, right? Hey, you
ever think of moving to another school? he suggested.
Thanks for the offer, but itll take a little more than some overrated
circus reject clowns to scare me away, she proudly said.
Well, the race for class valedictorian still isnt over, and not to brag,
but Ive been doing my homework, if you know what Im saying, he added.
Yep, good luck to you, Carter, she smiled.
Look at the bright side, Maxie. Its not the end of the year yet.
Anything can happen, right? Anything, he grinned.
Right, Ill see you than, she said, walking away.
Sooner than you think, Mrs. Perfect, he said, before walking to class.
Max Gibson was sitting at the computer lab later on that night. She
was typing into a computer, currently composing an e-mail.
Lets see Bruce keep away from this, she said, finishing up the last
line. Stretching back to yawn, she read her work.
Bruce, meet me at the Gotham City Bio-Park at 9 at the fountain, or
Ill blow your secret out right open to the public. And, dont try to bring your
gang with you. I just want to talk, Max, she read, before pressing the Send
Button.
Please Bruce, please have a good reason for all of this, she said,
standing up and walking away.
The electronic e-mail message traveled all the way across the city, all
the way to the other side of town. Wayne Manor.
But, Bruce Wayne wouldnt be in the mansion, but deep under it.
A herd of bats flew from the dark pits of the Bat-Cave, revealing a giant
facility below.
Tom Jensen was seated at the Bat-Computer, analyzing data of the
newest Jokerz gang that attacked Max. Bruce was dressed in his high tech
Bat-Suit, leaning against the keyboard panels. His mask was on a table, and
he was yawning.
Alright, based on police records, three members of this sub-gang are
known by the criminal underworld as Trey Terror, Dottie, and Weasel, but
based on these records; theyre Trey Andy, Sally Burstein, and Jorge
Worthinton Jr. This fourth guy, Terminal, is pretty smart. Hes covered his
tracks, but based on their attacks on Max, hes probably someone within the
school, Tom explained, after pulling up a record of the Jokerz.
Yeah, Bruce said, barely paying attention.

Hey, whats up, man? You seem confused, as many times as thats
happened, but this time, its different, Tom said, noticing his facial
expression.
Sorry for being so glum, but Ive got an actual problem on my hands,
now. Its isnt just another crook I can beat down and walk away. Its Max;
shes getting closer than ever at figuring out who I am, and I cant do
anything about it. And, if I just straight up tell her Im Batman, shell probably
be even madder at me for not telling her, Bruce complained.
Bruce, heres a helpful piece of advice. Life sucks and I should know,
Tom said.
Bruce looked at him.
Okay, look; Im sure Max is just a little confused, because of the real
Jokerz hunting her down last night. Give her some time, and shell forget
about all of this, Tom suggested.
I mean, in the hallway this morning it looked like she was trying to call
me a Joker, and if I dont come clean, it wont matter if Im Batman or not.
Shes probably going to tell everyone that I am a Joker, Bruce sighed.
Was your name on her list? Tom asked.
I think so, he told him.
Then, I got nothing, bro, he shrugged.
Thanks for the pep talk, friend, Bruce said sarcastically.
You have to do something, bro, before she ends up exposing your
secret, Tom said.
No kidding, Bruce murmured, going back to his thinking.
Suddenly, an e-mail notification pulled up on screen.
Hey, you got e-mail, Tom said, dragging it to the center and pressing
the Approve button. The full e-mail letter pulled up on screen.
Oh no! Bruce groaned after reading this.
Looks like youll be talking to Max sooner than you thought, mate,
Tom said.
In the park, right now? Now, I know she knows something, Bruce
said.
More than just something, dude. Based on this, if you dont show,
shell post who you really are. It wont matter if youre a Joker or Batman,
Tom pointed out.
Yeah, too bad I couldnt unmask that gang of Jokerz in front of her to
prove that Im not some nutcase of a clown, he said.
Wait one second, if shes in the park at this hour, and if youre
standing out here, then Id bet my Algebra textbook that some of our more
colorful suspects might show up as a surprise attraction, Tom said.
Then, what am I waiting for still talking to you? I gotta get out there
and save her, he said, walking to the table and putting his mask on. He
pressed the oval-button at the very center of his utility belt, and felt a
massive surge in energy. It powered up his suit.
One of these days, Max really needs to thank me for this, he
groaned, stretching before starting up the stairs.

Be careful, and dont let your guard down, Tom advised.

Never did, never will. Hey, Im Batman, right? Since when do I make
mistakes? he grinned.
Since you started this gig! Dont get killed, okay? Tom countered.
Yeah, just wish me luck, Alfred, Bruce said, bounding up the stairs to
aid his friend.
All the way across the city was the Gotham Bio-Park, one of the few
areas in Gotham City that wasnt built in steel yet. The park was divided
among several sections, with one of them being a huge area for the heart
and soul to rest in peace.
There was the Tranquility Fountain, built right in the middle of a rest
area in the Bio-Park. There were benches placed for a weary body to rest and
plenty of little gardens to keep the peace. At this time at night, the park was
largely empty, with no one staying around to enjoy the night breeze. Well,
that and that nighttime is usually the preying ground for the criminals who
see fit to attack innocents.
But, this didnt stop one determined young woman. About twenty
minutes after the e-mail was sent, Max walked through the main entrance
with her papers tucked tightly under her arm and a worried expression on
her face. At around this time, she was to meet Bruce Wayne.
Come on, Bruce, please dont make me do this, she whispered under
her breath, conflicted between what she should do. Notify the police or just
talk to him.
She surveyed the park, but there were no signs of Bruce anywhere.
Please, Bruce, she muttered.
Well, well, if it isnt Mrs. Perfect 2400! boomed a voice behind her.
She turned around to see the same Jokerz gang who attacked her
before. They were casually sitting on benches, with their legs crossed and
arms folded. Terminal, Trey, Dottie, Weasel, they were all here, shooting her
goofy looking smiles like they were best friends. Terminal was wielding his
blaster, Trey had a steel pipe in one hand, Dottie was tossing a red ball in the
air and catching it, and Weasel was twirling a medieval looking mace, with
spikes.
The luckiest girl in Hamilton High. You must be proud, Max, Terminal
finished with that sly grin on his face.
Max took a deep breath and looked at him straight in the eye with no
signs of fear or shaking. To her, Terminal was Bruce, her longtime friend.
You cant scare me, she boldly stated.
Oh really? he snorted, firing a quick shot towards her. She shielded
her face with her arms and backed away as the shot hit the ground she was
just standing on, leaving a black mark.
Scared now? he chided.
No, now that I really know who you are, Bruce, she replied bravely.

After a few seconds, the whole gang burst out laughing. Dottie was
snorting like a pig over Weasel and Treys wild cackling. Even Terminal curved
his mouth into a grin. He then snapped his fingers and they ceased laughing.
Let me guess, Wayne, right? he answered.
Yeah, now I know who you really are, Bruce. My only regret is that it
took me so long to realize it. Youve always hated me, for my success, and
now heres your big shot at taking me out. So, you cover yourself in grease
paint and pretend like youre funny, right? she explained.
Terminal rose to his feet and approached here, twirling his blaster
around in his hand. As he took steps towards her, she took a step back.
You got the last part, right, Maxie, but trust me; Im not that rich boy
Wayne. Im your worst nightmare, he said.
I know Bruce is one of you! He told you that Id be here to meet him,
right? she asked.
Tsk, tsk, youre slipping off the big one, Maxie. You see, no one told us
anything. But, we have a way of knowing that you would be here. But, trust
me; your friend Wayne is probably miles away, caring less about you than he
does his other nerd slave, Jensen. And, that just leaves you and us, Terminal
explained.
What? she stammered shocked at his words. She backed away, now
knowing that Bruce wasnt one of them.
Weve been following you, Max, tracking you down. Waiting for the
perfect opportunity to deliver the punch line, he said.
Because of this, she said, holding up the papers.
Ahhh, WRONG! he snarled, snatching the papers away from her and
throwing them down on the floor.
I dont care about your little data crunching. My reasons for wanting
you dead are more personal than your cute little identity search, he chided.
Now, Max fully understood what was happening. She was trapped in a
park, cornered by the other gang members, and hunted by someone she
didnt even know. Only now did she understand the mistake that she made.
Wheres Bruce at? What did you do to him? she demanded.
I told you, hes not here. But, trust me, hes the least of your worries
now, he grinned, bringing the gun up to her level. Max had backed against
the wall. There was nowhere else to hide.
Who are you? she gulped, now truly afraid.
Oh me, Im the best, he replied confidently, aiming it at her skull. She
let out a few cries for help, but Terminal grabbed her by the neck and pushed
her against the wall.
Let me ask you this one more question, Max. Who do you think is
going to hear you, Maxie? Who do you think is going to help you? he
laughed.
Me, came a quite familiar voice from between them. A large chunk of
darkness between them seemed to rush towards them, illuminated by a
bright red symbol at the center. Terminal didnt even see the fist crash into
his jaw, knocking him back into the arms of his surprised comrades.

No! he grunted in frustration. Standing before them was Batman.

He stood in front of Max, as the group recovered. Terminal rose to his
feet, rubbing the sore spot on his jaw. Dottie tossed the ball away and
brought her left knee up all the way to the chest, like a karate defense
stance. She also raised her arms up and squealed. Trey gripped the steel
pipe harder while Weasel waved around his spiked mace.
You picked the wrong party, Batman, Terminal snarled.
Thanks, Max thanked.
Run, Batman told Max simply.
She looked at him and then back at the Jokerz. They were about to
close in on the two. The entrance wasnt that far away, but she stood her
ground, and gritted her teeth. There was a time for running, and there was a
time for fighting.
You called it, she smiled, breaking into a fast run, but not in the
opposite direction.
Maxine Gibson ran directly into the Jokerz and tackled Dottie right off
her feet. Using all her strength, she took Dottie down to the floor and got up.
Then, she started to run in the opposite direction.
Not what I meant, Batman said. The other Jokerz then charged
towards him.
Weasel swung at his face with the mace, sloppily heaving it above his
shoulders and just swinging it at his face. Batman easily dodged by an inch
and lashed back with a sharp left hook to the jaw. As he fell backwards, his
mace flew out of his hands and landed into the fountain behind Batman.
Get the girl, Ill handle Batman, Terminal ordered to Trey, who without
question took off after the fleeing Max.
As Weasel fell down, Terminal opened fire on him with the blaster. The
agile detective threw himself to the right, as the barrage of bullets began. He
dived through the air with great agility and hit the ground on his back, rolling
up with a Batarang drawn.
As he was poised to throw it, a quick shot from the gun tore the
weapon away from his hands, sending it scattering across the floor. He didnt
have time to draw another one as Terminal continued firing. He dived for
cover again, vaulting with only two hands over a bench and taking cover
under a huge rock. The shots still bounced off the rock, narrowing missing his
body.
Whats the matter, Batman, cant handle the best of the best the
Jokerz can handle? he jeered cockily.
Batman suddenly took off running to his right, followed by a barrage of
gunfire. He leaped into the air, and spread his arms out, activating his
retractable wings, which folded out. He glided around the park, as Terminal
mercilessly shot at him, his wild shots hitting other pieces of property like
benches and trees. Batman folded back his wings and landed on the exit
gate. He quickly drew something from his belt that fit under his palm and
hurled it at Terminal. It was a smoke pellet. Once the object hit the floor next
to Terminal, it exploded into smoke, giving Batman the necessary distraction.

He jumped down and descended on the confused foe who was trying to
wave the smoke away with his gun. Batman bounced off Terminal with a
sharp kick that connected with his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He
kicked off his chest and landed on the ground below as Weasel recovered
from the previous blow, and had now retrieved his weapon from the fountain.
Now, armed with his weapon, he was about to confront Batman.
Im gonna get a real hoot out of this! he cackled, as the two faced
off.
Meanwhile, Trey was slowly walking through the entrance gates,
grasping his weapon tightly.
Come out; come out wherever you are, girl. I can check this whole
park all night if I have to, but Ill find you, he threatened.
As he passed through the gates, what he didnt notice was a small
figure standing behind him. Before he could turn around, he was nailed on
the top of the head by some hard object. That one blow lowered him to one
knee, but he wasnt out.
As he winced in pain and looked up, he saw Max, holding a large stone
in her two hands.
When she tried to heave the stone above her shoulder the second
time, Trey rose to his feet with venom in his eyes.
Why, you little- he stormed, as she dropped the stone, and ran away.
He stood up and took off after her again.
Back in the park, Weasel and Batman were facing off while Terminal
was recovering from the kick.
Weasel charged at him with the mace. He dodged the first few attacks,
and then threw himself backwards as Weasel tried a sharp jab to the ribs.
With two hands, Batman pushed off the ground and with extreme agility
landed a couple feet away on a bench with a Batarang drawn.
Without hesitation, he hurled it straight at the Joker. The Batarang tore
through the air like a bullet and caught the mace between its blades, tearing
it away from Weasels fingers.
No funny, man, he whimpered, trying to back away as Batman
lunged at him. The unarmed Joker tried to throw a punch at him, but it
whistled past Batmans head, and he landed in front of him. First, Batman hit
him with a left hook to the jaw, then an uppercut to the ribs. As he bent over,
the hero brought back his right arm, and launched it right at Weasel. The fist
crashed into the other side of his jaw, knocking him back five feet. He flew
through the air until crashing into a bench and dropping his head,
unconscious.
But, to the right of Batman, Dottie had already recovered from the
tackle, and lunged at him now. He only glanced to the side as he saw the
body thrown at him. He easily stopped her from actually colliding with him by
catching her in the air a few inches away from his face. He then tossed her to
the side like a doll. She flew right into a bunch of trash cans, crashing right
through them, before landing on the concrete pavement with trash all over
her.

Now, that was funny, Batman remarked with a smirk.

Lets see how funny you think this is, Terminal snarled at him, firing
his blaster at him, having recovered thanks to the diversion his colleagues
made. Batman dived through the air and rolled to his feet. He lifted a trash
can and hurled it towards Terminal. The leader easily sidestepped to dodge
and fired again. The shots hit Batman head on in the chest, knocking him
back. He was knocked back at least five feet before crashing into the
boundary wall and sliding down. Terminal was advancing towards him with
that sadistic grin. When he was at a good range, he fired again.
Batman recovered enough to duck the first shot and activate his rocket
thrusters, sending him directly into Terminal. He tackled Terminal full-on, as
the two crashed into the floor. During the struggle, Terminal accidently let go
of his blaster, as it slid to the floor.
The two adversaries stood up, facing each other. The Joker produced a
knife from his jacket, and advanced on Batman. He tried some light thrusts
and slashes, but none of them hit Batman. On the fifth downward slash,
Batman intercepted the attack by raising his palm all the way to Terminals
attacking hand. He grabbed the wrist, preventing Terminal from going
forward with the move, and followed the defense up with a straight fist to the
check, knocking Terminal down.
Suddenly, there was a sharp scream coming from across the fountain.
It was Max, screaming for help.
MAX! Batman exclaimed, rushing to her aid. He leaped over the
fountain to get to the main entrance.
Max, where are you? Batman called out. He started to run but a
bullet hit the ground in front of him, leaving a black spot, with a puff of
smoke rising from it. He turned around to see Terminal, aiming his gun at him
point-blank. They were merely seven feet away, an easy range.
Forget about me so soon, Batman? he taunted, working up a pile of
blood and spewing it out his mouth from Batmans punch.
You got the girl, Trey? he said.
Yeah, I got her, said Treys voice behind him. He turned his head to
see Trey, who was tightly holding Max with her hands behind her back. She
struggled to get free, but the more she struggled, the tighter he pressed
down on her wrists. Terminal had both Batman and Max at gunpoint.
Let go of me, you big oaf, she demanded.
Not a chance, sweetie, he mocked.
Good, lets finish this, shall we? he smiled.
As Terminal finished mocking them, a small black ball shot through
Batmans right gauntlet and landed on his palm, so small that Terminal
couldnt see it.
Two birds, with one shot, he sneered, his finger closing around the
trigger.
You got that right, Batman agreed.

Suddenly, Batman hurled it at him. It exploded in mid-air, but not into a

liquid or gas, or even a solid. It exploded into a large blinding flash of light. It
was so bright that Terminal had to turn away to avoid the light.
Max, duck! he ordered, quickly turning around. Max slammed her
foot directly into Treys foot, forcing him to loosen up, while holding back a
cry. Batman held out his right wrist. A bat-shaped disc flew out of it, not as
big and powerful as a Batarang, but twice as light and easy to carry. Max
threw herself to the side. It shot past Max and nailed the Joker in the face.
Batman leaped at him.
First, a flying heel kick courtesy of the Dark Knight connected with his
stomach, as Batman landed on the ground. Batman followed it up with two
more punches, and then launched himself into the air by a couple of feet,
rising up to Treys height.
He twirled around and thrust his right leg out, while leaning the rest of
his body out. This kick crashed into Treys skull, knocking him back, with a
sounding smack! He flew through the air until landing flatly on the ground,
unconscious.
Meanwhile, Terminal recovered from the flash and aimed his weapon at
Max.
Now, youre dead! he spat with venom, but Batman launched himself
at Terminal without hesitation. The hero tackled Terminal off his feet, and the
two wrestled for control of the gun on the ground. Batman tried to pry the
weapon away from him, but Terminal held on tightly.
Finally, Terminal slapped Batman with the hard metal of the gun,
knocking him to the floor. Terminal stood up, aiming at Batmans head.
Before he could deliver the shot, he was suddenly hit from behind. The
pain from his back caused him to drop his gun for the last time. Max was the
one who hit him with the piece of pipe that Trey dropped. As he fell towards
Batman, the hero brought up both his legs and kicked him in the stomach.
That knocked him off of him, and directly into the fountain.
NOOO! he cried, as he landed in the fountain, water splashing
everywhere.
Max helped Batman to his feet, as the two looked at Terminal.
You alright? Batman asked.
Yeah, I guess I owe you one for saving my butt twice this week, right?
she smiled.
Dont mention it, its what I do, Batman smiled back, as they looked
at Terminal. The water washed off his makeup. Every white patch of skin
seemed to disappear off his face, and the black hair, fell off, floating in the
water. His whole Zombie look seemed to vanish, leaving just regular white
skin, not pale. The black and white makeup was dripping from his face now.
Batman reached in and pulled him towards them so Max could see, as the
real culprit raised his head. It was Carter Grayson, with all his facial features
showing.
No! I dont believe it! It was you this whole time? Max gasped,
shocked. Even Batman was a little surprised.

You were always the best, Max. The best at everything you did. All I
had was sports and good looks, but you had it all. I had nothing. You had
every teacher nomination for valedictorian, all the awards and I was just
another pretty face that would vanish after a while. You robbed me of
everything, Max, everything, you drove me to a point where I had to do this.
For once in my life, I wanted to be the best at something, and that was
taking you out, so I wouldnt just be valedictorian, but the best, he
explained bitterly.
But, he wasnt even on the list! Why would you risk your whole
reputation, join the Jokerz, and try to scratch me out just in the sake of being
the best? Max demanded.
I told you, I wanted to be the best, not you. ME! ME! And, I almost
was. I almost was the best, Max. It all makes sense now. Mother was right;
Im nothing, nothing but a loser. I see it now, if I couldnt squash you, then
Im nothing! he answered, breaking into a sob, as Batman heaved him over
the water and gently dropped him on the floor. He started to cry because of
his imperfections, not even trying to fight Batman anymore.
He produced a pair of handcuffs and handcuffed both his hands
together, finally stopping the Joker.
Call the cops, and get home, Batman instructed, expanding his wings
to fly.
Wait, Batman, theres still something I need to ask you, Max said.
But, Batmans jet thrusters already activated, and he flew out of the
park.
That you just answered, she smiled, before flipping out her phone
and dialing 911 for the GPD.
The next day at Hamilton High went by sooner than you would think.
High school jocks were still talking about Carters involvement with the Jokerz
last night, and the last bits of spray paint were being washed away by the
teachers. With all of the Jokerz pranks finally over, school, as it would seem,
would finally be going back to normal, at least for the moment.
In one of the schools computer labs, Max Gibson was organizing her
binders, getting ready for the next class. All of the other students had left for
their classes, but she was trying to sort her papers out.
There was a knock on the door. Bruce Wayne walked through with a
friendly smile on his face.
Hey Max, I knew Id find you in one of those computer labs. Its
basically a vid-games room to you, right? Bruce Wayne greeted.
Hi, Bruce, I see youre as cheerful as ever, Max said.
Yeah, by the way, I came to talk to you about something, Bruce
started.
I know, I know, Im the worst friend ever, she sighed, waiting for him
to explode in anger.
Worst friend ever? Nah, I just wanted to talk to you about doing my
Spanish homework, but that works too. Theres that, and that thing about

you wanting to meet me at 9 last night. Sorry, but I was fried last night after
hanging out Toms place, so I just found it this morning. What did you want to
meet me about? Bruce asked.
Its pretty stupid, now, but I thought you were..a Joker. Now, go on,
laugh, tell me Im a hopeless computer programmer, she said.
So, thats what you were talking about yesterday, huh? Well, Im
pretty sure Im not a Joker, Bruce replied.
Yeah, I see that now. To make a long story short, I thought I could find
out who was a Joker at this school, you know, to be known for just hacking
hard drives. But, it turns out that I got into more trouble based on my stupid
programs. Batman ended up rescuing me twice, and it wasnt until I realized
that it was Carter behind their grease paint that I understood what a mistake
I made. When the Identity Crisis program pulled up your name, I believed it
because of its data. I didnt even give you a good chance to explain. I just
attacked you, which was wrong of me, since you are my friend, I should know
you a lot more than some dumb program, she explained.
So, pretty much, all youre trying to say is that youre sorry? Bruce
summarized.
Yep, Im guess Im not as good of a programmer as I thought, huh?
she smiled weakly.
Max, folks make mistakes. Im not mad at you, but based on the news
reports, you actually did help bring in a whole nest of Jokerz, so that does
mean something, he said.
So, were good, Max offered.
Sure, were good, Bruce accepted, as the two friends hugged.
Just tell me this, how come your name was on the list of likely Joker
suspects? she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Well, now thats a pretty funny story, he stalled, as they broke up the
hug.
You sure about that? Max smiled.
Okay, I got nothing. I know, with all my absences and well, average
grades that youd think that I was a Joker. But, trust me, Im not a Joker,
Bruce started.
Save the story for the press, Wayne. I believe you on that, but theres
one more thing I need to do. Now, that weve got this out of the way, Id
better erase all my programing so no one can trace what I did, she said,
typing in the computer.
Dont bother; Tom already deleted every file you have on Identity
Crisis this morning. And, why do I have the feeling that he enjoyed it? Bruce
told her.
Yeah, but he didnt quite erase everything that I had. After I found out
who Batman was, I stored the data on this flash drive so no one in the net
could get to it, Max said, producing the flash drive in one hand.
What? Bruce stuttered, shocking him again.
Max held up her two index fingers to each side of her head and smiled,
resembling Batmans mask.

Yes, I know, Bruce, she nodded, confirming his suspicions.

Look, Max, I meant to tell you, but, uh he started.
You can trash the cover story, Wayne. It wasnt that hard to figure out
the truth, the regular school absences, average grades, always showing up
after Batman did, knowing where I was at 9 last night, and showing up to
class some days like youve been beaten up bad. It finally came to me last
night, and now I know the truth, she proudly explained.
Bruce sighed. He knew that somebody would eventually find out.
So, what are you going to do about it? Bruce said.
You know, exposing Batmans identity to the public could get one
certain individual a lot of money, appearances on national television, and
probably more than that. I could be rich enough to buy a mansion, not to
mention all the publicity, she smiled, plugging the flash drive in to the
computer.
A control menu pulled up.
Based on your previous commands, do you want to confirm and sent
your data files on Batman Identity Crisis to all of the previously confirmed EMail Addresses? the computer asked. Bruce took a heavy breath, accepting
the inevitable.
Negative, Control All Batman Identity Crisis to Trash Can-Delete.
Delete all data on this drive, Max said, without hesitation. Bruce looked up,
with surprise and bewilderment gleaming in his eyes.
Why are you looking you surprised, Bruce? You were right a couple of
days ago. There is a reason why Batman has a mask, and thats because he
didnt want people like me trying to figure out who he was. I may be a
computer genius, but you taught me that, Bruce, she smiled.
Is this a confirmed request? the computer asked.
Yes, it is, she confirmed without any second thoughts.
After a couple of seconds, all the data files on Identity Crisis were
wiped clean, no more. She took the drive out and dropped it in her pocket.
Thanks, Max, Bruce thanked.
Its the least I can do after you saved me from the Jokerz. I wont tell
anyone whats up, just as long as you keep doing what youre doing, Wayne.
It is something that youre finally good at doing, Max agreed.
Dont worry, Tom already knows about this, but try not to leak this out
in public, alright? When Im Bruce at school, Im Bruce, okay? Nothing else,
Bruce instructed.
Sure, flyboy, just dont get your little ears in a twist, she smirked.
You sure you want to be around me? I mean, Ive got a pretty exciting
life after hours, Bruce said.
You kidding, bring it on, Max agreed.
The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class.
Lets go, he smiled, and the two friends walked out of the computer
lab, with both of their lives just getting a little bit more interesting.