A rolling cackle bounced through air of the Ace Chemicals facility, long since shut down for various health and safety violations, including the one that created the man filling the space with his cacophony. “Aren’t reunions amazing, Bats?!” The Joker asked, smiling toothily at his opponent in the shadows. The only response he got from the Dark Knight was a grim scowl, and their fisticuffs began in earnest, on a catwalk surrounded by vats of chemicals that had never been properly cleaned by the company, after its shutdown.
The Caped Crusader was faster, stronger, and more skilled than his opponent. The only advantage the Joker had was his unpredictability, but this particular night he was going down far easier than normal. In record time, he was being held aloft by his collar, blood beginning to leak from one corner of his mouth. But Batman was not happy with this development. This had been easy. Too easy. Suddenly, his brilliant mind teased out what was going on, and he growled, “Where is it?”
Now it was the Joker’s turn to frown. “Do you really not remember? It’s the anniversary of the night you knocked the Red Hood into that vat, over there,” he said, pointing to one in particular. “I thought it would be nice to get your attention, bring you here, and maybe die together in an enormous explosion. What can I say, I’m a romantic.” Before Batman could ask another question, the bomb planted on the underside of the catwalk went off, followed by several others placed throughout the facility.
The force and proximity were too much even for the Batman, who was knocked unconscious with his opponent, and his body flung into one of the vats, left to stew for hours before waking up. When he did, he knew right away something wasn’t right. His body armor wasn’t fitting correctly, hanging off his body like it was several sizes too large instead of being specifically built to perfectly fit his torso. In the moonlight, Bruce was barely able to see his reflection in the chemical liquids he’d been bathing in, and what he saw made him freeze in surprise.
In his bat-costume, there was a teenage girl, with long blonde hair and the kind of beautiful face that made sure she would be popular wherever she went. With time, she’d likely become utterly beautiful. It was impossible to tell anything else about her body visually, but from the sensations Bruce was feeling inside his costume, he knew she had a thin figure, and was quite busty. With a scowl that didn’t look right on his pretty face, Bruce climbed out of the remains of the vat and got into the Batmobile. There was no sign of the Joker, and he needed to get home, to find out what to do about this.
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