The Puzzler

There are pitying looks, then there's the look you get from a travel agent when you tell them you need a ticket to Gotham City. I had heard rumors that Gotham was bad, but all the stories couldn't possibly describe the desolate, gloomy, degenerate, crime-infested wasteland of Evil that is the festering bile-sac known as Gotham City. Still, at least it's not as bad as Detroit.

Not knowing my way around, I was mugged in quick succession by:

• Some hoods in the airport bathroom
  
• Some hoods in the airport concourse
• A shoeshine boy
• Hare Krishnas
  
• The girl at the information counter, and
• Some hoods in the airport bathroom (I really had to go)

Afterwards, I staggered dazedly out to the cabstand where I was mugged by rats. Finally, I managed to get to my hotel, only to find it burned to the ground. Lying in the charred rubble, the mortally-wounded hotel concierge gave me directions to The Puzzler's hideout before mugging me and then breathing his last.

He directed me to an abandoned warehouse, which was quite difficult to find as Gotham City consists of nothing but Police Headquarters, Stately Wayne Manor and abandoned warehouses. Eventually I spotted a sign that read, "PUZZLY MCPUZZLETON'S CROSSWORD PUZZLE FACTORY???" and went inside.

The warehouse stank of stale urine and tears. There were three other minions playing "UNO" at a rickety card table, their hands shaking a little as they laid down the cards. The lieutenant introduced himself as "Query", with the other two named "Boggler" and "Feathers". Query explained that Feathers had recently been traded from a rival bird-themed gang and had yet to receive his new costume and nickname. The Gotham-style "henchman-swap" was much like the trading of groupies between rock bands, but with even less dignity.

Just then The Puzzler pranced out of the shadows holding a question mark-emblazoned bowler hat, carrying a question-marked-shaped cane and wearing extremely tight tights covered in question marks. Immediately I knew two things about my new boss: he liked question marks and he was circumcised.

Query laid out our fiendish plan. "First, we detonate a series of mini-bombs hidden in the Gotham sewer system under police headquarters. This should keep the cops occupied if it doesn't just bring down the building entirely. Second, key government workers have been hypnotized and brainwashed over the course of several years, and with a single phone call they'll spring into action: raising bridges in strategic locations, changing traffic patterns by altering the schedules for stoplights and-"

"KAA-KAW!!!" Feathers screeched triumphantly, strutting chicken-like around the warehouse floor.

"Goddammit, cut that out, Feathers!" Query yelled. "I told you, we don't do that in this gang."

Feathers sheepishly shuffled back to the table, and over the next four hours Query explained our scheme in painstaking detail. I don't want to bore you with the details (plus I kinda nodded off a few minutes in) but in the end The Puzzler would rule Gotham, we'd all be rich beyond our wildest dreams, and the words "Catwoman", "naked" and "whipped cream" would be figuring prominently in our immediate futures. I have to say, I've heard quite a few dastardly plots in my time, but this was by far the most brilliant. It was almost entirely foolproof.

It was at this point that The Puzzler informed us that he had planted clues to our intentions in the form of puzzles all across the city. He gave clues in the newspaper, on the local TV news, on a radio call-in talk show, in the sky via bi-plane sky-writers, in carefully arranged seashells at the beach, in cryptic tattoos adorning patrons at local biker bars and on Commissioner Gordon's answering machines, both at home and at work.

We all stared at him in shock for a few long moments until finally Query spoke for us all. "You... you... you complete and utter dumbshi-"

Just then the lights in the warehouse went out and the skylight shattered as a huge, dark, caped figure dropped to the ground in our midst. The Puzzler let out an idiotic giggle, while Query quietly wept and Boggle belted out a girlish scream of terror, his feet now surrounded by an ever-widening yellowish pool.

"Kaa... kaw?" Feathers offered placatingly, but to no avail. A second later his teeth were smashed into the back of his throat by a perfectly executed roundhouse kick. A lightning-fast backhand sent Query spinning off into some crates, his spine hopelessly shattered. A sharp uppercut aimed low rocketed Boggle's testicles up into his lungs.

I decided it was time to go.

As I left the warehouse The Puzzler was in the process of eating his cane, with only the curly part at the top remaining. A black car was double parked at the curb outside with a kid wearing red and yellow fetish gear sitting on the hood painting his toenails. He gave me directions back to the airport and I hightailed it there as fast as I could, stopping only at a dark, Gothic church to offer a heartfelt prayer that this would be my last assignment in Gotham City. On my way out of the cathedral, an elderly nun tottered over to me and smiled benevolently. "Young man? Before you go?"

"Yes, Sister? What is it?"

She mugged me.