The Mad Hatter had impersonated the Three-Tailed Pasha of Panchagorum to infiltrate the event and steal the ruby from its hostess’ headpiece. He had ultimately been caught by the Dynamic Duo, but not before rendering the Caped Crusader’s cowl radioactive with a sinister spray, thus coloring the garment pink, and apparently transforming the heroes into irradiated skeletons with high-voltage x-rays. The latter evil events had transpired at the Gotham City Atomic Energy Laboratory after the villain’s henchmen had trapped the Dynamic Duo in a fluoroscopic cabinet.

Catwoman had perpetrated another robbery at the Top Hat Room after clothier Rudy Gernreich had been selected to provide the headgear for Hattie’s partygoers. More significantly, the Princess of Plunder had taken advantage of the perfect opportunity to kidnap Flamebird, whom she subsequently used as bait to trap the Girl Wonder’s crimefighting colleagues in a cat’s cradle formed from cruelly-constricting Cat’s Whiskers.

On this night, Hattie’s guests spoke of the party’s controversial, surprise guest as they rubbed elbows. This man had shattered the glass ceiling and been invited despite his well-earned, dubious reputation. “Mister Oswald Cobblepot!” the doorman intoned as the subject of most conversation arrived.

The short, rotund man regarded the doorman and the other guests through a monocle as they all studied his well-tailored tuxedo and the lavender top hat casting a shadow over half his face. He carried an umbrella in a white-gloved hand and clamped a black, lacquered cigarette holder between his teeth.

“Please call me Penguin,” the newcomer said.

The doorman cleared his throat. “The Penguin!” he said, coughing slightly.

“Thank you,” Penguin softly said. “Would anyone mind if I smoked?”

Before anyone could answer, Hattie Hatfield bustled toward him. “Welcome . . . um. . . Penguin. I’m delighted you could make it,” she said.

“Thank you for your kind invitation, Madam,” Penguin said, kissing her offered hand. “I wouldn’t have missed it. Wak!”

“Come and have something to eat,” Ms. Hatfield invited, gesturing toward the buffet. “I’d be fascinated to hear about your recent experiences. Your treatment after the Governor’s murder was horrible.”

“Governor Hideo Hataki’s assassination was truly tragic, and as the initial, prime suspect, I am delighted the authorities caught the real perpetrators in the end. Wak, wak, wak!” Penguin said. “I initially found myself the victim of the same vile villains, until some of my less liquid assets could be sold off. Now that these important transactions have transpired, I’ve resumed my accustomed lifestyle. Accordingly, I’ve undertaken a career change, devoting myself to worthy charities. Did you know I briefly worked for the Gotham City Library system?”

“You don’t say!”

“I most emphatically do say, Madam! I find the charitable work vastly more rewarding. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Well,” Hattie Hatfield marveled.

“Since you were so kind as to invite me,” the Penguin cut in, “I was hoping to do some networking while I was at this splendid party. Oh, that reminds me, I neglected to send in my check ahead of time. Please forgive me.” Penguin presented Hattie Hatfield with a document.

She glanced at the amount and her eyes went wide. “You’re being quite generous, Mister Penguin. Thank you very much.”

“Please think nothing of it, Madam," Penguin replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I am well aware of the good work the charities this event supports do. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Well, Penguin, if you’ll excuse me, I think another guest is arriving.”

“Certainly, Madam, certainly,” Penguin said.

As Hattie Hatfield moved off to greet the latest arrival, Penguin nodded to a hat-check girl tipping her black derby. Her hat was perched atop a mane of luxurious, honey blonde hair. Carefully coifed long curls framed her face and cascaded over her bare shoulders. These drew well-deserved attention to the lacy, white frill-adorned bustline of her black top, which resembled a heart from which long sleeves with lacy, frilled cuffs extended while her arms swung naturally at her sides. The short skirt covering the flare of her hips fell from her narrow waist, to the top of her thighs. Together with her black pumps, the skirt displayed her nylon-sheathed legs beautifully as she approached.

“May I check your hat, sir?” she asked, arriving at his side.

“I’ll hang onto it for this evening’s festivities,” Penguin said. “Thank you.”

“What about your umbrella? We have a stand where I have a few just like it.”

“What a good idea,” Penguin enthused, surrendering his bumbershoot. “Tell me, my dear, what is the policy here on smoking?”

“I think it’s permitted, but severely frowned upon,” she replied, smiling conspiratorially. “Can I get you a light?”

“I’m fine for the moment,” Penguin decided. “Thank you.”

“You will, of course, let me know if you change your mind?” she asked, winking.

Penguin nodded. She retreated as he watched closely.

“It is the Penguin,” a hesitant, male voice said close to the Penguin’s ear.

Penguin turned. “Reggie Rich!” he exclaimed. “It certainly is. I’m delighted to see you, sir.”

The aptly-named Englishman beamed happily. “I haven’t seen you since you saved me from kidnapping in the steam room at the Gotham City Millionaires Club. How do you do, sir?”

“It has been a long time, my dear Reggie, and I am well. How have you been?”

“I must say, Penguin, my fortunes aren’t looking as good as yours lately, old chap, but I’m happy to attend this charity dinner. I take it you feel likewise?”

“Naturally, Reggie, naturally,” Penguin agreed. “Your generosity is legendary.”

“I’ll bet the people on that gambling cruise I took must think so, too,” Penguin’s companion grumbled. Then he shrugged and grinned. “Still, the weather was great. I got some sun, and the scenery was spectacular--in many ways. Speaking of which, I think I’ll join you in a smoke, if I may borrow a cigarette?"

Penguin followed his companion’s glance and realized the hat-check girl was returning.

“Wak! Certainly. What a good idea,” Penguin said, winking at the girl. He surrendered a cigarette and she lit both with a single match.

“Thank you, my dear,” Reggie Rich said, smiling at her winningly.

She returned his smile and glanced at the Penguin. “Everything is ready, Mister Penguin.”

“Excellent. Carry on. Wak, wak, wak!”

“I didn’t realize you and the young lady were acquainted,” Reggie Rich smoothly said. He gave Penguin a nudge with his elbow. “I suppose you did see her first.”

“Reggie, fear not,” Penguin encouraged, lowering his voice. “Our relationship is professional, and at this very moment the lass is helping me with a publicity stunt I hope will raise a small fortune.”

“What’s up?” the Englishman curiously asked, following Penguin through a French window onto a balcony.

“Well,” Penguin said, “I suppose I can tell you, Reggie. My little stunt will be carried out within the hour and, if it works as well as I hope, I’ll raise more money than Ms. Hatfield tonight for charity.”

“I don’t know, Penguin,” Reggie Rich said seriously. “This party wasn’t cheap; it was heavily promoted; and consequently it’s very well attended. I saw Hattie’s reaction to your donation, and I’d be willing to bet on her annual tradition.”

“You raise several excellent points, Reggie. Are you proposing a friendly wager?”

“Could you match a million dollars?”

“Make it two and it’s a bet, my friend. Let me alert the media before we shake hands.”

Reggie Rich hesitated as Penguin beckoned a blonde woman chatting with Tim Tyler, Junior, who had inherited the Gotham City Eagles baseball team from his late father. “Ms. Vale,” Penguin called. “I have a fascinating story for you out here.”

Photojournalist Vicki Vale excused herself and joined the men smoking cigarettes and talking on the balcony.

“Penguin,” she said, smiling at him. “I heard you were here. Good evening, Mister Rich. How can I help you gentlemen?”

“Reggie and I have just made a small, two million dollar wager,” Penguin announced as he and his companion extinguished their cigarettes and discarded the butts. “I have suggested my fund-raising efforts, which will take place presently, will garner more funds for charity than this splendid party Ms. Hatfield throws every year. Wak, wak, wak!”

Vicki Vale regarded Reggie Rich. “Is that right, Mister Rich?”

“Absolutely,” the Briton replied, recalling the rationale for his initial statement.

“Well, the question is interesting,” Vicki Vale said, smiling winningly. “Could I get your picture while you shake hands?”

“Of course,” Reggie Rich confidently replied, offering his hand.

“May the best man win,” Penguin enthused, gripping the offered hand as the men were bathed briefly in the glow of popping flashbulbs.

“Do either of you have anything else to say?” Vicki Vale asked.

“I believe the hat-check girl is about to say a few words,” Penguin said, leading the way back inside and directing his companions’ attention to where the blonde and three well-dressed men were carrying umbrellas to the speaker’s podium.

“All right everybody,” the girl said, raising her umbrella and holding the handle against her shoulder. It remained parallel to the floor as a soft pop heralded a crash the centerpiece on the buffet table made as it shattered, falling to pieces. “Stick ‘em up!”

“Those umbrellas are guns!” Reggie Rich exclaimed, raising his hands. “Who do those people think they are, and what do they think they’re doing?”

“Wait a minute!” Vicki Vale exclaimed, raising her own hands. “That girl is Legs Parker, the villainess and mother! She is the infamous Ma Parker’s daughter and the men with her are the Parker brothers, Machine Gun; Pretty Boy; and Mad Dog. I’ll bet all of their umbrellas are pop guns, similar to the ones Chief O’Hara and Commissioner Gordon once unwittingly used to target Batman and Robin at the Gotham Amusement Pier!”

“I believe they are, Ms. Vale,” Penguin said, raising his hands as well. “If you are correct, they normally shoot pellets, but are perfectly capable of delivering real bullets. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Is this robbery the fundraiser you indicated would take place shortly, Penguin?” Vicki Vale demanded suspiciously. “What else do you know?”

“I have no comment at this time, Ms. Vale,” Penguin replied. “I’d be happy to speak to you when we are out of imminent danger. Meanwhile, please watch closely and be patient.”

The room had grown quiet so everyone had heard the brief exchange. Legs Parker was smiling. “The Penguin is right,” she said. “Thank you for saving me the trouble of explaining what will happen to anyone who doesn’t do as we say. Now, my brothers are about to begin circulating among you and will relieve you of your valuables. Again, I urge you to cooperate, because the price of difficulty is rather high. Get their loot, guys.”

For the next several minutes, the crowd muttered angrily as the villainous family went about the wicked work the girl had described. Once everyone, including Vicki Vale; Reggie Rich; and the Penguin, had been robbed, Legs Parker moved to the door of the room. “Thank you all for your kind donations to my favorite charity. Goodnight.” With a delighted laugh, she backed through the doors to the room, following her brothers, and they hurried away.

“Unbelievable!” Hattie Hatfield exclaimed as she and all her guests lowered their hands. “We’ll have to take a serious look at the security arrangements for this event!”

“I think I can wrap this affair up quickly enough,” an athletic brunette announced regarding Penguin with green eyes. The woman was six foot, three inches tall and the suit she wore was tailored to showcase her figure.

“Good evening, Officer Finch,” Penguin said smoothly. “Are you on duty or moonlighting?”

“Ms. Hatfield engaged me to oversee security tonight, Penguin,” the off-duty officer said. “I’ll need you to give me a very good reason not to run you in, since this party was robbed by crooks using umbrella guns.”

“I’d be delighted, Officer Finch,” Penguin smoothly replied. He turned to Reggie Rich and softly said, “I hope you’re ready to write me a check, Reggie, my boy, and Ms. Vale, you are most welcome to an exclusive interview.”

“What are you talking about, Penguin?” Vicki Vale demanded. “The Parkers just pulled an admittedly daring robbery and you’re about to be arrested. What other news is there?”

“I say—” Reggie Rich began.

“My friends,” Penguin said, raising his hands once again as well as his voice. “I am very pleased to announce you have all just participated in a most unique simulation.”

“What are you talking about, Penguin?” one man shouted. “We were just robbed!”

“I tell you, the robbery was a mere simulation. Wak, wak, wak!”

“What do you mean, a simulation?” Officer Finch hesitantly asked.

“The Parker children took our money!” a woman objected.

“That girl was no child,” a man near her observed. “Oof!”

“My friends,” Penguin said, “Legs Parker and her brothers engaged tonight in a community service. As we speak, they are preparing to return all of your property and accept donations for the Police Benevolence Society. This simulation of which I speak was always a mere fundraiser. Wak!”

“Are you saying . . . those crooks think they’re going to sell us back our property?”

“Not at all, sir,” Penguin replied, “on the contrary. All donations to my chosen charity will be completely voluntary . . . and, if you itemize, tax deductible . . . but you have the absolute right to have your property returned without making any donation whatsoever! Naturally, should you ask, your right will he honored without question. I would, however, urge you to remember we all came here tonight to support worthy charities. You could all be greedy tightwads if you were to so choose, but our friends in the press are well aware of this event. Wak, wak, wak! You won’t be able to complain afterward, if you’re unhappy with the coverage.”

“The Parkers threatened us!” a woman objected.

“I agree they gave that impression,” Penguin said, “but Ms. Parker emptied all the guns when she shot that centerpiece. None of you were in any danger whatsoever. It’s a well-known fact the Parker brothers are terrible shots. In fact, they couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn."

Some of the partygoers angrily regarding Penguin frowned and began to stroke their chins thoughtfully. Others folded their arms and continued their attempts to induce spontaneous human combustion through the sheer force of will.

“Tell me, how many of you have ever really been robbed – in person? The experience was unique, something you can tell as an anecdote at another party. Come, my friends. I think the Parkers are ready to accept your generous donations and return your property.”

“I don’t know,” one man hesitantly said.

“If Penguin is wrong,” Vicki Vale said, “we’ll know in a matter of minutes.” She let Penguin lead her to where Legs Parker and her brothers waited behind a heavily-laden table in the cloak room outside the Top Hat Room. Officer Finch followed closely.

Penguin’s Charity Drive

"Are you crazy, Penguin!?" Legs Parker demanded later that night. Her voice was so loud she was almost shouting. “You just swindled more than a hundred thousand dollars from Hattie Hatfield’s guests and you expect me to hand over my share of the spoils to the cops?!”

“We owe them every cent,” Penguin tranquilly said, blowing a smoke ring. “Besides, the media know all about this stunt, so I imagine the transaction will be intensely scrutinized. Wak, wak, wak! Keeping any of it would now be quite impossible."

“You’re supposed to be a criminal genius!” the girl fumed. “If you always planned to give the loot away, why in Heaven’s name did we even bother to do the job?!”

“You are beautiful when you’re angry,” Penguin said, grinning as he tapped the ash from his cigarette.

“You have no idea—”

They occupied a suite several floors below the Top Hat Room. Legs had changed from her hat-check girl outfit to a sleeveless, dark top with a matching mini-skirt that displayed her namesakes magnificently.

“Wait just a minute! Are you trying to bait me?” the girl demanded, glaring at her companion as she rose from the divan she had decorated since Penguin had arrived. Her face darkened as she grew angrier and closer.

“Why would I do such a thing?” Penguin inquired.

“Answer the question!”

“Very well,” Penguin replied. “I’m not trying to bait you.”

“Not that question!” Legs said, looming over him and raising a hand ominously. “Why did we hit that party if we were never going to keep the money?” She glared at him for another moment as her chest heaved before lowering her hand. “You’re right. You aren’t trying to bait me, you’re succeeding!” She swore softly and began to pace the room, walking back and forth while willing herself to calm down.

“Your question is excellent,” Penguin complimented, inclining his head as she stalked him once again like a hungry predator. “Capital, in fact. Wak, wak, wak! For you and your brothers, tonight’s work represents community service and strengthens your case for outright freedom from prison, as opposed to the overnight parole you’re presently enjoying.”

Legs Parker whirled to face him. “I enjoyed handling tens of thousands of dollars worth of cash and jewels we gave back to the rich suckers from whom we stole it all in the first place! Having the rich dupes fork over thousands more dollars compensated me nicely for that painful loss until you told me that money was . . . to be . . . given . . . to the cops!” Legs’ hands came to rest on her shapely hips as she leaned over Penguin, who reclined in a comfortable chair, smoking. “The cops!” the blonde angrily repeated. “Chickadee and Undine both told me you’re a genius, so I hooked up with you. Then, what happens? Your brilliant, criminal masterstroke is to raise money for the freaking cops!”

A mischievous twinkle appeared in Penguin’s monocled eye as he steadily regarded her, exuding an infuriating aura of calm. “You didn’t hear what I was discussing with Vicki Vale and Reggie Rich when you and your brothers went into action, did you?”

Without a word, the girl went on glaring at the Maestro of a Million Criminal Umbrellas.

He thoughtfully looked around, frowned and continued, “What happened to those brutish brothers of yours, anyway?”

“They’re taking full advantage of their night out of jail to do some bar hopping,” Legs said, calming considerably while her voice maintained a dangerous edge. “They’ll probably wind up busting some heads and doing massive property damage.” She shrugged, straightened and began to pace the room again. “Boys will be boys, but I haven’t yet made my mind up about what to do to you for completely wasting my valuable time.”

“You gave the impression you were seeking employment,” Penguin gently said.

“More like a partnership, Penguin. We agreed tonight’s work would be a sort of trial run,” Legs recounted, pivoting to face him once again. “Of course, if there isn’t any money in it, my brothers’ and my performance accomplished nothing! Didn't it?”

“Your spirit is very impressive, Ms. Parker,” Penguin said, more seriously. “I first saw it when you and your brothers burst in on Catwoman’s auction of the Onyx Osprey four years ago. It took nerve to hold up my cunning colleague and me on that occasion. Your preparedness was also most impressive.”

“Flattery might get you somewhere,” Legs haughtily replied. She sat down on a chaise lounge, picked up a nearby guitar and began strumming it absently as she looked at the Penguin.

She paused as if remembering. “You and Catwoman didn’t do too badly,” the blonde recounted. “Batman and Robin burst in with the Distaff Duo and promptly got their butts kicked. I know the Clock King appeared from nowhere, but it seemed to me you and Catwoman managed the situation with characteristic efficiency.”

“Wak! Thank you. Catwoman was quite prepared to take out all of her frustrations on you that night, but you gave us Batgirl, whom you had obviously caught and for whom you obviously had murderous plans.”

“Accepting my generous offer completed your collection of captured heroes.” She gave Penguin a snide smile. “It’s too bad they survived whatever arrangements you made to dispose of them.”

“Phaw!” Penguin exclaimed. His manner became more philosophical after a moment. “Well, we’ve all had our Bat-troubles, despite countless chances to remedy the problem—permanently. Wak! Still, odds are none of them will survive forever. We’ll just have to keep trying.”

“Indeed.” Legs’ eyes began to glitter and her manner transformed as she focused briefly on her own cunningly conceived plans to eliminate her enemies. Seconds later, her mind returned to the present. She put down the guitar and stood before the Penguin. “I’m sorry to change the subject, Penguin,” she apologized. Her lips twitched into a smile that did not reach her eyes. “You had started to talk about me.”

“Before you storm out of here in a huff, my dear, feast your eyes on this check Reggie Rich wrote.”

Wordlessly, Legs took the document Penguin withdrew from his breast pocket and studied it closely as her eyes grew wide. Her chest expanded impressively as she filled her lungs and let out her breath much more slowly. “Reggie Rich wrote this to you . . . willingly?” she asked, regarding her companion with new interest as she turned, raising a leg to perch a well-rounded hip on one arm of Penguin’s chair.

“Of course he did,” Penguin said, turning his head to favor her with a smile. “I called Vicki Vale over so the media would cover the little wager I made with Reggie. I knew Ms. Vale and her colleagues would keep him from backing out of our bet. Wak, wak, wak!”

“You used the late Governor’s former mistress to make a fortune,” Legs mused. As she considered what Penguin had accomplished, she could not help smiling with genuine pleasure. “I’m impressed. So, what was the bet?”

“I bet Reggie your good work would raise more money than Hattie Hatfield’s annual ball, despite my considerable contribution. I was right and Reggie dutifully wrote that check out to me, which I can cash in the morning when the banks open. Half of that phenomenal figure, of course, belongs to you, as we agreed . . . and, best of all, it’s all legal! Wak, wak, wak!”

“How much did Hattie raise?” Legs curiously asked, her eyes glittering.

“One hundred thousand dollars,” Penguin replied. “Your efforts raised one hundred, ten thousand dollars. The payoff, of course was much greater for us. Wak!”

“One million dollars. Not exactly filthy rich these days, but not bad for one night’s work, either,” Legs Parker said.

“I’ve always thought you were a very rich, young woman, Ms. Parker.”

“Please call me Legs,” she invited. “Especially since we owe it to one another to stay together until we get our money.” She hung her head. “I owe you a huge apology.”

“Genius, Legs,” Penguin said, “even mere criminal genius, like mine, is rarely appreciated in its own time.”

“I mean it, Pengy. May I call you Pengy? I’ve behaved horribly. We’re supposed to be partners and I’ve been berating and practically threatening you.”

“If we’d retired to your mother’s house, you’d have broken all the china by now,” Penguin said, favoring her with a grin. “The kitchen crockery would also be in considerable danger.”

Legs laughed. “I’m sure you’re right. Say, since you’re more experienced, why don’t you critique the work the boys and I did?”

“You helped me win a two million dollar bet,” Penguin said. “How could I possibly be critical? None of my other associates have ever done comparable work! I judge by results. Wak!”

“Thank you, Pengy. I’m glad you’re pleased. I know you’ve had some impressive people working for you in the past and that you’ve taken on partners like Catwoman, Joker, and the Riddler on occasion.” She leaned forward slightly and rested her free hand gently on the villain’s shoulder. “Knowing how fickle Catwoman can be, I doubt you’ve experienced how exhilarating it can be to have a woman not just as a mere henchgirl, but as a true . . . partner.”

Penguin felt himself beginning to perspire. ‘I’m not quite ready to take our relationship to that level . . . not yet,’ he thought.

He cleared his throat. “Well, among your other accomplishments, you showed a considerable amount of initiative, planning your wedding while fending off Batgirl until practically the last second.”

“Batgirl should be dead dozens of times over and I should be married!” Legs said too quickly. “You shouldn’t have gotten me started on Batgirl. She ruined my wedding, spoiled some fun I was once planning to have with Robin, and is largely responsible for my mom’s premature retirement from crime. At the right time, I will make Batgirl pay dearly for everything she’s ever done to me!”

“I understand your motivation where Batgirl is concerned, although I find your attitude toward Robin a bit surprising.”

“I think Robin has potential. He is young; well-trained; ambitious; and, because of Batman, utterly misguided. With the right focus, he could be molded into a master criminal. I think if I got my hands on him – and had some time to go to work – he’d be magnificent after I finish adjusting his attitude, to say nothing of while I attend to the process–personally.”

“Beyond tonight’s little venture, why would you want to work for me, Legs?”

“With you, Pengy,” Legs corrected, shifting to make herself more comfortable, “Undine told me much more about you than simply how very smart you are.”

“Did she indeed?”

Legs let her head settle onto Penguin’s shoulder as she reached to set the check Reggie Rich had written on the table beside Penguin’s ashtray. “Oh, yes. She certainly did. Truthfully, Pengy, she adores you.”

Penguin inhaled the scent of her hair and looked deeply into the girl’s bewitching eyes. He became slowly transfixed as they sparkled before him, proving to be deep, colorful, and enchanting.

Legs let her lips brush Penguin’s neck gently.

“Undine is a very impressive reference, in many ways.” Penguin exhaled a stream of smoke and set his cigarette holder aside, balancing it on his ash tray.

“I agree,” Legs said, her lips just touching the skin near his ear. “I have infinite respect for her opinion.”

Penguin turned his head and let his lips brush hers. “Tell me, my dear,” Penguin encouraged, drawing her into his lap. “Do you often seduce your potential employers?”

“Partners, Pengy . . . and of course not,” she replied. “I’ve been in charge for most of my criminal career . . . when I wasn’t working for my mother!”

“Wak, wak, wak!” Penguin said, sputtering in a startled manner. “I’d momentarily forgotten all about your illustrious criminal family!”

Legs giggled, stroked her companion’s face gently and tried to reestablish the spell she had so carefully cast. “Now that Ma’s virtually retired, the boys do what I tell them. Ma’s still in the pen, and she keeps an eye on my child when it’s mutually convenient. She’s wonderful with kids. After all, they can’t be expected to learn everything that’s really important in kindergarten.”

“I’m sure,” Penguin said dubiously.

“You know, I don’t earn million dollar paychecks every night,” she huskily declared. “I could never have done that without you, Pengy. We could be really great for one another.”

“I think we could work together further, Legs,” Penguin softly said, bending to kiss her.

Closing her eyes, she pressed her lips against his and opened her mouth. As Penguin did likewise, she slid her tongue playfully forward. Their next kiss was equally hard and deep, initiated without a word, and it left both breathless when it ended.

“Undoubtedly,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad I’m not married . . . not that it would really matter.”

“Why are you doing this?” Penguin asked, grinning hungrily down at her.

“Despite what I said earlier, a million dollars is a lot of money, and I wanted to thank you properly,” she replied, smiling and pulling off his top hat. “I’m sure our partnership would yield considerably more. Of course, if you don’t want to play, I’ll go.”

“You’re hired,” Penguin said, gliding his hands slowly upward under her skirt and along her bare thigh.

“No, Pengy,” she softly protested, pulling back slightly. “I want to be your partner, not merely your employee.”

“You’re right, of course!” Penguin enthused, kissing her hard and deeply once again. “We’re partners,” he declared when she had finished responding to him.

“Splendid,” Legs said, smiling up at him and snuggling closely against him. “Thank you. So, tell me, when do we start?”

“Wak! We already have . . . and we have the entire night ahead of us,” Penguin replied, reaching for her once again.

“Outrageous!” Commissioner Gordon exclaimed, jabbing at the picture Vicki Vale had taken the previous evening with his finger. The article next to the image dominated the front page of the newspaper beside his plate at breakfast. “The Penguin stages a robbery; claims it was only a simulation; and, in the process, cons Reggie Rich out of two million dollars!”

”Has anyone pressed charges?” his daughter, Barbara, who sat across from him in a booth at a Gotham City diner, asked.

“Everything I’ve learned – and I’m just getting started with an investigation – indicates every item stolen in Penguin’s ‘robbery’ was returned. With the press coverage, it would be very embarrassing for Reggie Rich to back out of his bet with Penguin. No one is pressing charges.” Commissioner Gordon chomped at a piece of toast to avoid shouting angrily.

“Do you have any independent sources of information or details?”

“Officer Finch was within ten yards of Penguin as soon as the Parkers left the Top Hat Room with the loot. Had anyone complained, in any way, she would have arrested Penguin without hesitation. My officer is not having a good day and neither am I!” the Commissioner said, frowning. “I’m afraid I woke her up with questions after I read this story the first time.”

“So, District Attorney Dent would have nothing to prosecute, even if the Penguin were arrested,” Barbara softly said, frowning.

“Lucky Pierre, Penguin’s attorney, would have a field day at the expense of the police,” Commissioner Gordon responded, taking in some air. “I can’t stand it when that waddling menace gets favorable press coverage! He’s using the media and they know it, but they don’t care because the Penguin is practically a public figure. He sells newspapers for them singlehandedly! Imagine a supervillain who looks like Alfred Hitchcock in the dark!” He scowled and reached for his coffee cup.

“Whom did Penguin use to hold up Hattie Hatfield’s guests?” Barbara asked. “Maybe someone should have a private word with a few of his infamous finks. You might learn something interesting.”

“Penguin enlisted the Parker siblings, and Warden Crichton told me they were on overnight parole to engage in community service. We have not yet had any complaints about their behavior.”

“They’ll break their parole if they get back to jail late.”

“I don’t think they will,” the Commissioner cautioned. “All of them are to be released this morning.”

“I thought they all had several months more to serve,” Barbara said.

“They do, but they are all participating in one of the Warden’s stupid rehabilitation programs!” Commissioner Gordon inhaled. “I—I don’t really mean that, of course.”

“I know, Daddy.” Barbara smiled sympathetically. “You think the Penguin is up to something, don’t you?”

“I do,” the Commissioner admitted, shrugging. “It may be unfair of me, but Penguin has played at going straight too often for me to be easily convinced. Of course, I can’t imagine what that fowl fiend may be planning. Between you and me, Barbara, I’d love about fifteen minutes alone with him to ask my questions and get my answers. I would get them, too. I may be . . . a veteran, but that pudgy crook would never stand up to what I’d like to do to get him to talk.”

“I’m sure you’ll catch Penguin without having to use a rubber hose on him,” Barbara said teasingly.

“I don’t have a choice these days!” the Commissioner grumbled. “There are days I wish the police had the respect they had when I was a beat cop. The Penguin would never have become a super criminal back in the day. Now, sometimes, I wonder if it’s time for me to retire . . .”

This confession caught Barbara by surprise. Her father was nearly eighty years old. Many times she wished he would retire, but at others she couldn’t imagine him doing anything else. Now, she couldn’t think of how to respond.

Fortunately, the public official calmed as he finished his breakfast. “I suppose I’m awake now. Thank you for letting me vent, Barbara. My ranting just goes to show how helpful Batman and his *ahem* allies are.”

“Would you excuse me, Daddy? I need to call my assistant, Myrtle, and tell her I’m coming in to work late today,” Barbara said, smiling at him.

The Commissioner was one of the few people in Gotham City who knew his daughter fought crime in the gorgeous guise of Batgirl. Mentally he shrugged. His frustration had effectively put the Curved Crusader on the wily bird’s trail, and he didn’t mind the potential unfairness of his actions to the criminal genius at all. He was, in fact, smiling at the cashier as he paid the check.

Later that morning, the fantastic, feminine form of Batgirl stepped into Warden Crichton’s office at the Gotham State Penitentiary.

“Good morning, Batgirl,” the Warden said. “How can I help you?”

“I understand Legs Parker and her brothers are being set free this morning and that they had an overnight parole last night where they put in some community service hours,” Batgirl said, settling into a comfortable chair the Warden indicated with a gesture.

“I’m very proud of the amount of community service for which they have all made themselves available. I have a program in place and they have all met my requirements for early release.”

“Warden, you know I have all the admiration in the world for your programs and I am quick to publicly applaud their success–”

“Thank you, Batgirl. I appreciate your support and confidence.”

“. . . but does the fact the Parkers most recent, unscheduled time outside these walls was earned by threatening you, the Commissioner, Chief O’Hara, and others with machine guns make a difference in your decision?”

“The time they served for that incident was served concurrently with another portion of their sentence. I appreciate your point, Batgirl. Believe me. It is very well taken–”

“Are you telling me there was effectively no penalty for holding up Gotham City’s leading law enforcement officials?”

“It was the judge’s decision, Batgirl. My hands are tied.”

“There is more, Warden,” Batgirl persisted. “I know for a fact Legs Parker and her brothers tried to kill Playgirl and one of the Gangster Gal of Games’ henchwomen.”

"Have you ever testified about your knowledge?”

“No,” Batgirl admitted. “I reported it, but have never been invited to enter my experience into evidence for the Courts.”

“Neither Playgirl nor her 'employee,' have ever filed a complaint against Legs Parker for attempted murder. Obviously, charges are necessary before a crime can be prosecuted.”

“Of course, Warden,” Batgirl said, smiling despite herself. “The idea of Playgirl holding a grudge and attending to the matter herself worries me.”

“You’re right, Batgirl,” the Warden agreed. “You know Playgirl attacked Max Chessman within these walls. Ms. Parker and her brothers might all be safer after we release them.”

“You have a point, Warden. Is it too late to file an appeal as a friend of the Court concerning the Parkers’ escape or their crimes while on the lam?”

“Batgirl, listen to me. Your concerns are well founded, and I’d hate for you to imagine I don’t appreciate them. Please bear in mind, though, how my credibility would suffer if I pulled the metaphorical rug out from under one of my charges as he achieves something for which he had worked very hard for months – and years, in some cases.”

“Under the circumstances—”

“You’re coming to something critical,” the Warden interrupted, raising a hand. “Legs Parker is a mother. Her child needs her and the fact her family operates as a unit was an important mitigating factor in the judge’s ruling against their continued incarceration.”

“Warden, I must confess I completely disagree. Legs Parker has convincingly demonstrated she is far from a worthwhile role model for a young child. I’ll admit she has made an effort and I know she cares, but good feelings and the proverbial old college try don’t get the job done.”

“Wak, wak, wak! I’m afraid I must profoundly disagree with you, Batgirl.” the Penguin announced, entering the office.

“Penguin!” Warden Crichton exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Batgirl stood.

“Please relax,” Penguin invited, gesturing dismissively. “I just came by to pick up Ms. Parker and her brothers when they are released in connection with your program. I sincerely hope Batgirl’s pathetic, eleventh-hour efforts to change your mind about your commitment will not succeed. Be warned, sir, my attorney, Lucky Pierre, is prepared to sue on the Parkers’ behalf for breach of contract! Wak, wak, wak!”

“Breach of contract?” the Warden repeated.

“The Parkers’ obviously accepted your offer for freedom in exchange for community service. Having performed the service, you are obligated to release them in a timely manner,” Penguin explained.

“That’s pretty flimsy legal reasoning, Penguin,” Batgirl suggested.

Penguin looked at the Warden through his monocle. “Be that as it may, the resulting bad publicity might persuade Governor Condelee a new warden would be in her administration’s best interests.”

“I’m not accustomed to being threatened, Penguin.”

“Think of it just as a friendly reminder of your obligations, Warden. Wak, wak, wak!”

Another thought struck Batgirl. “Why would Lucky Pierre even work for the Parker family?” she asked. “Isn’t he too expensive?”

“Not since Ms. Parker is sharing the proceeds of the bet I made with Reggie Rich last night. Wak, wak, wak!” Penguin crowed. “The family can easily afford Lucky Pierre’s spectacularly successful legal services.”

Batgirl had had enough. “You’re referring to the money you acquired by conning Reggie Rich!”

“That is a slanderous remark, Batgirl.”

“With your reputation---”

“Despite my reputation,” the Penguin crowed, “I’m sure the Warden would agree your thoughtless remark casts me in an unfavorable light!”

Batgirl glanced at the Warden, who nodded.

“I await your apology!” the Penguin said, folding his arms.

“What apology?” Batgirl demanded, stepping toward the villain. “I have yet to characterize your reputation, Penguin. If I were to do so, I guarantee you’d have an easier time winning a slander judgment despite this being a largely private disagreement.”

“Wak! You and I are standing in the office of an official who serves the public, Batgirl,” the Penguin pointed out. “This conversation is hardly private!”

“I didn’t come here to spar with you,” Batgirl said. “What’s your game, Penguin?”

“That is an impertinent question, but because of the high regard I have for you personally, I’ll tell you.” Penguin lowered his arms and turned his hand, from which a business card appeared as if by magic. “I’m going into the charitable fund-raising business.”

“What?! the caped crimefightress and the prison official incredulously inquired in unison.

“Read the card,” was all Penguin said in response.

”Feather your nest with the Penguin,” Batgirl read aloud.

“In exchange for a modest percentage,” Penguin explained. “Wak, wak, wak!”

“Well, I wish you success in your latest entrepreneurial endeavor, Penguin,” the Warden said.

The heroine was far from convinced. “How do the Parkers fit in?” Batgirl suspiciously asked.

“They provide a qualified staff for my business . . . and since they’re about to have paid their respective debts to society, there is nothing that can prevent me from employing them. Wak, wak, wak!”

“I’m sorry, Batgirl,” the Warden said. “The Penguin is right. I’ve kept the Parkers waiting too long for their release already.”

“I suppose you have to do what you have to do, Warden.”

“I know the Courts would think so, Batgirl,” the Warden said.

“Oh, Batgirl,” Penguin said. “Perhaps you’d like to help me publicize my next event? I’m planning a little fundraiser for the Gotham City Nautical Society at Gotham Square Gardens tonight. I hope to raise a small fortune. If you’ll let me publicize your promise to be there, I’ll be happy to put you on the list for free admission.”

Batgirl regarded the often-claimed-to-have-reformed man distrustfully. “Well, it is a good cause. Okay, Penguin, I’ll be there . . . and I’ll be watching you. I sincerely hope to have the opportunity to apologize for my suspicions.”

“I’m looking forward to helping you heave your nasty suspicions over the proverbial side - loudly and publicly,” Penguin said, smiling. “Now, Warden, if you’d kindly release my staff, we have a big day for which to prepare and an eventful night ahead of us. Wak, wak, wak!”

Batgirl was gone well ahead of the Parker family. She drove to the Gotham City Nautical Society at the top legal speed.

“Well, Batgirl,” Captain Ahab of the White Whaling Company, the society’s representative, began, “the reason we hired the Penguin’s fund-raising service is he is the closest thing we could find to the living embodiment of a pirate . . . and pirates are the theme of tonight’s event.”

“I see the connection,” Batgirl said. She made her next statement into a question. “You must be aware of the Penguin’s dubious reputation?”

“Oh, we are. We’re also aware of his recent exploits,” Captain Ahab said. “They’re all over the front page and we’ve asked the paper to make note of our event in the afternoon edition. We’d be very pleased to announce you’ll be putting in an appearance.”

“I’ll be there, Captain Ahab, but my presence will be to prevent real piracy. I don’t want to disparage a small businessman’s entrepreneurial efforts, but I’ve learned the Penguin has engaged the infamous Parker family as his fund-raising company’s staff. I’m afraid they’ll—excuse me, Captain, I have to be careful to avoid being misunderstood—I am concerned Penguin and the Parkers may try to feather their own nests at your guests’ expense!”

Batgirl forced herself to smile as she regarded Captain Ahab with steady eyes. She could feel her muscles knotting and anger bubbling within her. Knowing how easily Lucky Pierre could twist any ill-chosen words she uttered, she tried to remain calm and pleasant as the conversation continued.

“Did you just say the Penguin has hired the infamous Ma Parker’s children as his staff?” Captain Ahab asked, gazing at Batgirl with new intensity.

“I’m afraid so, Captain. I’d feel more comfortable if Penguin and his staff had a longer track record of being on the right side of the law. I hate to admit it, but I don’t honestly trust any of them.”

“Thank you, Batgirl, for expressing your concerns and bringing me the excellent news about the Parker family and your plans,” Captain Ahab said.

“I’m not sure I understand, Captain,” Batgirl said.

“Your news is great, Batgirl!” the mariner enthused. “You’ll be attending our event, and the Parkers’ presence, like the Penguin’s, fits in with our pirate theme!”

Batgirl sighed. She realized the man was oblivious to the threat, seeing nothing but dollars for his favorite charity.

He was still speaking. “Pirates are extremely popular. I saw several last month at Halloween and there is a famous amusement park ride upon which no less than three movies are based—”

“Captain,” Batgirl firmly said, interrupting. “Would you mind if I looked over your preparations at Gotham Square Gardens?”

“Not at all, Batgirl,” the Captain said. “I’m delighted to learn you’ll be keeping watch for us, so to speak. I love the way you throw yourself into your duties. You can be part of my crew any time.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Batgirl said, tiring of the need to be diplomatic while investigating the Penguin. “I hope you understand my concerns are for your guests’ safety and the continued integrity of your organization. If my fears about Penguin and the Parkers are realized, your organization's credibility could be severely jeopardized.”

“Thank you, Batgirl. I appreciate your concerns. The Gotham Square Gardens security people are good. Everything will be fine, particularly with you helping us out.”

“Well, I sincerely hope the event is a success and that I’m just jumping at shadows, Captain. Thank you for seeing me,” Batgirl said, shaking the mariner’s hand. Despite her words, she was growing tense with frustration as she hurriedly left.

As soon as she had gone, Captain Ahab reached for his phone and smiled happily while dialing.

Meanwhile, in an office at Gotham Square Gardens, the Penguin’s perfidious preparations were well underway.

“I’m sorry to doubt you, Penguin,” Legs Parker apologetically said. “You told me your basic plans this morning. So . . . I understand our motives for doing this fundraiser, but I don’t see the real big picture. Why did you tell Batgirl about tonight’s event? Won’t she spoil everything?”

“She will certainly try. Wak, wak, wak! I expect her to take steps to learn our ultimate plans. What you fail to realize is, I’ve maneuvered her into what will soon become a very precarious position.”

Legs Parker frowned, deep in thought for a long moment. “Let me get this straight,” she slowly said. “Instead of having her monitoring our plans in secret, you’ve invited Batgirl to investigate them openly. When she does, we’ll have a chance to get her out of the way for good, long before we go to work?”

“Precisely, partner.” Penguin replied. “I’ve lured Batgirl to her grave, and all that remains is to push her in and bury her, metaphorically speaking. Wak, wak, wak!”

The female mobster brightened considerably. “I’m sure Batgirl will find whatever trap you’ve set irresistible.”

“Speaking of being irresistible, my pretty paramour,” Penguin said, kissing her gently, “you’re so much more than just a pretty face.”

The phone stopped Legs’ instinctive response and Penguin picked up the receiver, holding it so the girl could hear.

“Hello.”

“I’m glad I caught you, Penguin,” Captain Ahab said. “I have wonderful news!”

“Wonderful news, eh? Wak, wak, wak! What could it be?”

“Batgirl has agreed to attend tonight’s show! We can publicize her appearance in the meantime!” Captain Ahab enthused.

“Did you speak to her yourself, Captain?”

“Oh, yes, Mister Penguin. It was an honor and a privilege.”

“I’m sure, Captain, and I share your excitement. I’ll have to get in touch with her immediately to discuss her role in the performance. Wak! Tell me, how long ago did you speak to her?”

“She just left my office. I felt there was not a moment to be lost and called you instantly.”

“Capital, Captain. Wak, wak, wak! Your news is absolutely magnificent. I must bid you good day, and I’ll certainly see you tonight.”

“Goodbye,” Captain Ahab said, breaking the connection.

“Well,” Legs lamented, disengaging herself from Penguin and beginning to pace as he set the telephone receiver in its cradle. “We can’t get rid of Batgirl now. The Society expects her to appear at the show tonight!”

“Wak! Not to worry, my dear. I know someone who can take her place, while the real Batgirl pushes up daisies,” Penguin crowed. “Imagine what a wonderful alibi we’ll have when Batgirl appears in the public eye at our event, following her demise. Wak, wak, wak!”

The girl turned, grinning. “Well, Pengy, I’m starting to believe you are as smart as your reputation suggests,” she said. “Planning to eliminate Batgirl before a well-publicized, live event – at which she appears – really is brilliant.” She laughed. “Now, tell me, how will you pull it off?”

The telephone prevented Penguin from responding.

“Penguin,” the voice on the other end of the line said, “this is Captain Ahab again. You won’t need to look for Batgirl. I forgot to tell you she is on her way to tonight’s venue as we speak.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Penguin said. “That is welcome news. Wak! Goodbye.”

“What’s up?” Legs Parker asked as Penguin hung up the phone again.

“Great quivering icebergs, Legs!” the Penguin exclaimed. “My plan is coming together even sooner than I’d expected. Come. We have to hurry, if we’re to beat Batgirl to the punch and take her out forever!” Laughing, the perfidious pair took their leave arm in arm.

Shortly thereafter, a shapely shadow crept through Gotham Square Gardens without making a sound, avoiding guard patrols, and leaving no sign of her presence. Batgirl found nothing amiss, but her eyes widened as she looked at a calendar of upcoming events.

‘The Gotham City Aquarium is being promoted at an event tomorrow and tonight we have Penguin’s Gotham City Nautical Society fundraiser,’ she thought. ‘Next week, we have a technology show with an emphasis on hi-tech weapons. That show will be held in the same room Penguin is using tonight!’ Batgirl’s hands settled on her shapely hips as she took a deep breath and exhaled. “It’s time to see a cagey bird about his future criminal plans,” she said aloud.

Batgirl stalked purposefully along a corridor frowning and muttering as she approached her quarry. “You’ll be attending our event, and the Parkers’ presence, like the Penguin’s, fits in with our pirate theme,” Batgirl repeated. Her voice became softer and more sarcastic as she heard voices in the room where Penguin’s event would be held. “Your news is great, Batgirl.” She paused for a beat and reached for the doorknob, exclaiming, “My eye!”

“Now, I need these tables arranged in accordance with this diagram,” Penguin was saying to the Parkers as Batgirl entered.

“You’ve been too clever by half, Penguin,” Batgirl declared. “I know you’re staging this event tonight to case this building and study the tendencies of the security staff. Your real target is the technology show and I’m going to stop you in your tracks unless you give yourselves up right now!”

“How did she figure it all out?” Pretty Boy Parker demanded.

“However she did, you just confirmed her suspicions, you idiot!” Penguin raged, conking the thug on the head with his umbrella.

“Never mind,” Legs Parker said, waving her hand dismissively. “Pengy invited her here to compel her to walk the plank anyway.”

“Rather than walking the plank, Legs, I think I’ll be placing all of you in irons!”

“We’ll soon see who takes whom prisoner,” Legs Parker replied. “Personally, I think ushering you to oblivion will be a pleasure.” The blonde gangster laughed. “Get her boys!”

Legs Parker’s command gave Batgirl an incalculable amount of pleasure. Since breakfast, she had been compelled to treat Penguin like any other respectable citizen, despite her suspicions. With the order to attack having been given, however, all of the Penguin’s clever camouflage completely vanished. Batgirl moved forward, sinking happily into a fighting crouch. She had been looking forward to a straightforward, violent confrontation with Penguin and his followers. Now, at last, her patience paid off. Battle had been openly joined, and the Curved Crusader was simply delighted.

As Pretty Boy; Mad Dog; and Machine Gun nodded and arrayed themselves before her, Batgirl smiled, stepping forward to grip Penguin’s shoulder with a gloved hand. The villain felt his balance falter and spun back toward her. He just glimpsed a purple-gloved fist before it slammed audibly into his jaw. The villain’s body hit the floor with an immensely satisfying thud and Batgirl grinned joyfully, feeling better than she had all day.

“She got Penguin!” Pretty Boy worriedly said. For some reason, he could not tear his eyes away from the fallen villain.

“Come on,” Mad Dog urged, “let’s get her!”

“We could have a lot of fun afterward,” Machine Gun suggested.

Machine Gun and Mad Dog glanced at one another and separated. Mad Dog moved on the balls of his feet, doing his best to keep Batgirl in sight as she darted among her opponents, turning and twisting with the grace of a dancer. He anticipated one movement and swung, encountering empty air and shifting. His balance faltered. He felt a tap on his shoulder and pivoted, settling on his heels. Too late, he saw a purple-clad woman ascending into the air before one of her shapely legs extended, slamming a booted foot into the side of his head. He fell, bowling over several chairs.

“Where’d she go?” Machine Gun asked.

“I don’t see her,” Pretty Boy said.

“She circled behind you,” Legs shouted. “Look out!”

Pretty Boy whirled and never saw the purple boot that slammed into his jaw and dropped him onto a table that collapsed beneath his weight before he could react.

“It’s just you and me now, Machine Gun,” Batgirl said. “I hope you still want to fight, because I have not forgotten your plans for me when you, your family, and a few friends caught me at Webmaster’s Internet Café.”

“This time my sister is not in charge, Penguin is,” the thug replied, grinning wolfishly. “I’m sure he won’t object to my inspirations. So, you’ll have a good time, too — long before the end.”

“You’ve got a pretty high opinion of yourself.”

“Well, before I’m finished, you’ll agree with me about the truth. Listen, honey, before we get around to having real fun, I’m going to kick your purple –”

Batgirl moved rapidly toward the thug, ducked under a meaty fist and pounded his abdomen with both fists. Batgirl’s knee caught his chin as he doubled over, straightening him and positioning his head for her heel as she spun, felling him like a tree.

“I hope that was good for you,” Batgirl said, standing over him and surveying the human debris she had made of Penguin and the Parker brothers in a matter of minutes. The brief encounter seemed to have taken the fight out of the villains. Pretty Boy’s body remained twisted among the fallen chairs. Mad Dog appeared dazed, despite having sat up between the halves of the shattered table. Macine Gun was out cold. “I’ve been looking forward to that kind of fun all day.” She laughed. “You guys were great!”

Legs Parker was beginning to retreat and Batgirl’s face wore a wide smile as she slowly pursued the young villainess. “I’ve dealt with your brothers and Penguin, Legs. Unless you give up right now, it’s your turn.”

Legs Parker’s retreat continued as she smiled, saying, “I wouldn’t be so sure, Batgirl. Hold her!”

The Curved Crusader suddenly realized why the young mob matriarch had been backing away from the battle zone. Strong arms suddenly wound around the heroine’s elbows and thighs, lifting her and drawing her arms behind her back.

‘I’ve been an overconfident fool!’ she thought derisively. ‘They were playing possum!’

“We’ve done this before,” Batgirl muttered darkly, recalling how Legs Parker had incapacitated her outside the site of the illicit auction of the Onyx Osprey, a stolen figurine much of Gotham City’s underworld had once relentlessly pursued. “Would you care to take me on without your brothers’ help?”

Legs Parker shook her head and smiled with genuine delight. “No thanks, Batgirl. This time, I’ll finish the job I started when we last met. You remember how we play.” The girl gangster kicked Batgirl in the midsection and followed up immediately with a second kick, to her victim’s side. “Oh, yes. I’m going to enjoy taking you apart and there is no reason in the world to hurry.”

The Curved Crusader gasped in pain and gritted her teeth.

Legs Parker’s fists pummeled Batgirl’s abdomen with powerful, straight punches that slammed into the Dark Knight Damsel again and again with titanic force.

In the grip of her attacker’s brothers, Batgirl could only grunt, gasp painfully, and writhe helplessly.

“Does that feel good, Batgirl?” Legs taunted, hitting her again.

“I won’t forget this treatment, Legs,” Batgirl warned.

“Shortly after I’ve finished, you won’t be around. There is nothing you can say that will frighten me,” Legs replied laughing. She spun and clipped Batgirl’s head with her heel.

Batgirl moaned and her head lolled. She fought to remain conscious as waves of pain threatened to overwhelm her.

Sweat glistened on Legs’ face as the assault continued. The blonde’s movements became much more fluid as the beating she was administering proceeded. After awhile, the only sounds were Legs’ blows battering Batgirl.

The Penguin re-gained his feet as Legs’ protracted her violent work. He watched without comment, and, after a moment, Batgirl’s vain resistance had all but ceased.

Calmly, the villain lit the cigarette perched in his holder. “Wak! Are you going to beat her to death or shall we get on with what we came here to do?”

“Let go of her,” Legs ordered, panting. She bent over, hands on her knees. “One way or another, she’s had it.” Her brothers waited until she caught her breath before complying.

After the Parker Brothers released her, Batgirl was powerless to prevent the blonde beauty from launching a combination of body blows that left her sucking wind as she crumpled to the floor at her attacker’s feet.

Batgirl shook her head and rolled away, gasping as her opponent pursued, slamming a foot into Batgirl’s ribs. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve looked forward to dismantling you, Batgirl?” Legs asked, kicking again at Batgirl’s ribs.

“Maybe since your aborted wedding,” Batgirl responded confidently as her hands seized the woman’s foot and pulled hard while viciously twisting. “You won’t ever defeat me being this predictable.” Batgirl’s opponent fell with an anguished cry.

Batgirl somersaulted to her feet. She, too, rested her hands on her bent knees as her chest heaved.

The two conscious Parker boys moved to renew their attack, but halted as Legs raised a hand. “Leave her to me for now,” the blonde commanded.

The Dominoed Daredoll waited while Legs regained her feet and advanced in a fighting crouch. Batgirl feinted and snapped a hard kick into Legs’ ribs when the blonde gangster moved to block.

Legs retreated and leaped into the air, kicking as Batgirl slid to the side and pummeled her exposed ribs once again.

Legs went down, but spun and cut Batgirl’s legs from beneath her with an extended leg. Slowly, the girl gangster approached, looming over the fallen victim and beaming with wicked delight. “Now, you’ll pay for playing possum,” she sweetly said.

“Shut up and fight,” Batgirl said, catching the girl’s ankles and knees between her closing legs before pouncing on her opponent and pounding Legs’s ribs yet again with both fists.

Legs rolled over and fired her elbows back into Batgirl’s ribs as she reached her knees. Batgirl backed off as Legs once again climbed to her feet. The blonde bad girl was ready for an attack and dodged, backing to trap Batgirl in the corner. “Now,” Legs said eagerly, “we’re going to fight, as you suggest — to your finish!”

Penguin’s glance flicked to Pretty Boy and Mad Dog Parker, who had begun to work at reviving Machine Gun while their sister renewed her efforts to dismantle Batgirl.

The unconscious henchman recovered slowly and was momentarily enthralled as his sister engaged Batgirl and retreated from weak counterattacks again and again. He tore his eyes away from the contest and began looking around, recalling the intensely painful moment before unconsciousness. Then, he focused on the Penguin.

“Well done, my familial finks. Wak, wak, wak!” the master criminal complimented. “I’m sure your sister would appreciate your help with Batgirl’s ultimate demolition now. Listen carefully.”

Once he had issued his instructions to the Parker brothers, Penguin eagerly watched the enthusiasm with which his pretty partner pursued her prey. He decided to let the leggy lawbreaker proceed with her wicked work. Legs’ brothers all grinned at one another and moved toward the battle while Legs circled, allowing her reinforcements to approach their intended, unsuspecting victim from behind.

Machine Gun and Mad Dog suddenly wrapped their arms around each of Batgirl’s shoulders and lifted her so that Pretty Boy could wrap her ankles in one arm.

“Feeling a little held up, Batgirl?’ the blonde taunted, as light glinted on her white teeth. She favored her victim with a wicked grin, spun, and slammed her foot into Batgirl’s exposed abdomen once again. “This time, I won’t stop until you’re finished!”

Batgirl exhaled involuntarily and would have convulsed in pain if the henchmen had not restrained the heroine in a combined, iron grip. The Curved Crusader could do nothing but writhe helplessly as Legs went on systematically pounding away at the victim’s gut with her fists, mixing in an occasional kick. Legs kept her distance as she worked over the Curved Crusader, preventing Batgirl from retaliating.

The Parker Brothers also made subtle contributions to the victim’s torturous treatment, twisting her arms and kneeing her from time to time while holding her in as vulnerable position as possible for their sister.

Legs took her time and weakened Batgirl until the crimefightress’ battered body could stand no more. “That was fun,” Legs declared, grinning and nodding as her brothers released their captive, who collapsed in a beaten heap at the criminals’ feet. “She’s all yours, Pengy, with my compliments.”

“Capital, my criminal crew! Batgirl is completely spent and utterly at our mercy. Wak, wak, wak! I have a rather unique final resting place in mind for our attractive adversary. Bring her.” Batgirl was incapable of resisting as Machine Gun picked her up and followed his siblings, who moved forward in the Penguin’s wake.

Batgirl was primarily conscious of pain as the Penguin led his evil entourage and their curvaceous captive to a tent set up in a secluded corner of another exhibit hall. Inside, eerie, green lights illuminated a circular, yellow platform upon which Machine Gun set Batgirl. Instantly, Mad Dog and Pretty Boy gripped her legs and pulled them apart. Penguin took an arm and nodded for Legs to do likewise. Together the perfidious partners spread her arms wide and held them firmly down.

Machine Gun licked his lips as he plunged a series of inverted hooks into the pitted surface beneath Batgirl at intervals along each of her arms. Soon the henchmen’s handiwork had restrained their victim’s shoulders, upper arms, elbows, forearms, wrists, and hands.

“Quickly, hook down the rest of her,” Penguin commanded. “Wak, wak, wak!"

Machine Gun moved along the pitted platform, plunging more inverted hooks along each of the captive’s legs so her hips, thighs, knees, calves, ankles, and feet were firmly anchored. When satisfied with his work, he stepped back with Pretty Boy and Mad Dog, who had been leering lasciviously at their pretty prisoner. The brothers regarded her with fascination and anticipation as she began assessing her limited range of movement.

Individually, none of the thin, wire restraints would have held Batgirl for long. Together, however, the metal arches worked in concert, allowing the Curved Crusader to do little more than prettily squirm.

“I do hope we won’t be leaving you too uncomfortable, Batgirl,” Penguin teased.

“I’ll be much more comfortable when you and the sinister siblings you’ve recruited are back behind bars, where all of you belong!”

“You seem well prepared, Pengy,” Legs Parker happily observed, leaning closely against the villain.

“Of course I am, my dear,” Penguin replied, winding one arm around his companion as he struck a match on one of the hooks restraining Batgirl and lit a fresh cigarette. "I invited Batgirl here, and I am a criminal genius. Years ago, I discovered the value of preparing numerous lethal arrangements for Gotham City’s caped crimefighters. They have a tendency to arrive at the most inopportune moments. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Typically, just in time to stop your perfidious plans from being perpetrated!” Batgirl concurred.

“I will admit as much, Batgirl,” Penguin said, bowing his head and glancing at Legs. “The Gotham City Aquarium’s planned promotional tour was fortuitous. The morbid fascination with the site of Catwoman’s supposed demise has obviously passed.”

“Unlucky for Batgirl, you found a way to take advantage,” Legs said, grinning wickedly at the captive as she rested her head against the villain’s shoulder.

“Indeed!” the Penguin enthusiastically agreed. “Wak, wak, wak! Indeed it is.” He turned, gesturing with his cigarette holder to encompass the entire interior of the tent. “Anyone would assume all of this is part of the Aquarium’s promotion when, in truth, I set it up, and am employing it a bit sooner than I had expected. This fact, Batgirl, does you credit.”

“Just what are you planning to do to me this time, Penguin?”

“Wak! Well, as you’ve no doubt noticed, you’ve been helplessly hooked—”

“Obviously, I’d noticed!”

“What is less obvious, my beautiful piece of Bat bait, is to what you’ve been hooked. Wak!”

“I’d been wondering that myself,’ Legs admitted.

“Your brother, my dear, literally hooked Batgirl to an enormous sponge, which, in turn, rests upon a bed of vertically-oriented, poisonous spines from a sea animal in the echinoderm family. Wak, wak, wak!”

“What exactly is the echinoderm family, Pengy?” Legs asked.

“Echinoderms are typically spiny creatures like starfish or sea urchins, but the family also includes sand dollars.”

“Oh.”

“Wak! Regardless, before we leave Batgirl, we’ll activate a mist machine which will cool this tent by slowly forming a cloud of water vapor inside. This vapor will slowly saturate the sponge beneath our voluptuous victim.”

“You’re all wet, Penguin!” Batgirl declared. “I will certainly not be sponged off to oblivion. You’re obviously suffering from water on your much-vaunted brain!”

“Wak! Hardly,” the Black Bird of Prey retorted. “Once the sponge beneath you is thoroughly saturated, Batgirl, your deadweight will cause your beautiful body to sink in slowly. Simultaneously, the sponge will be penetrated from below. Eventually, the poisoned spines will find and impale you. Wak, wak, wak!”

“So, the sponge will literally soak up everything until it is completely saturated,” Legs reiterated, firmly gripping Penguin’s shoulder with both hands. “Then, gravity will draw everything surrounding the sponge into its center. So, when everything literally gets together . . . . ”

“Precisely,” the Penguin confirmed. “Batgirl will get my point quite soon. Wak, wak, wak! Under normal circumstances, the poison I’ve selected is exquisitely painful, but on other occasions it can be lethal.”

“You’ve taken steps to be certain our guest expires, though, haven’t you, Pengy?” Legs inquired, looking up to regard the master criminal with undisguised awe.

“Indeed. Wak!” Penguin confirmed. “After Batgirl is transformed into a pulchritudinous pin cushion, her body will convulse involuntarily and uncontrollably. The spines will thus be buried even more deeply in her flesh. As you squirm in continuous, unspeakable agony, Batgirl, your life’s blood will inevitably drip away—drop by precious drop. Wak, wak, wak!”

“Oh, Penguin, I love it,” Legs gushed.

“I think the outcome of the arrangement is quite inevitable. Wak!”

“Too bad you won’t be around to tell us if your fate hurts more than the beating I gave you,” Legs Parker said, laughing.

“I can ignore the pain,” Batgirl said, “but I’ll never forget it. You won’t always face me with such a decisive advantage.”

“You’re awfully confident for someone who is about to die,” Pretty Boy said.

“She won’t be able to haunt us forever after perishing, will she?” Machine Gun asked.

“There are other women about whom you should be more worried,” Mad Dog advised. “Forget about Batgirl. She’ll be gone soon.”

“Wak, wak, wak! I’m afraid we’ve overstayed our welcome, so to speak,” Penguin said. “Legs, my dear, if you would be so unkind as to turn on the mist machine, we’ll be on our way.”

“It will be my pleasure. First, however, there is one final detail.” She disengaged herself from Penguin, approached Batgirl’s body, leaned over it, and manipulated the buckle of the captive’s utility belt. “She won’t need this any more,” the girl gangster decided, gently tugging the gadget-laden girdle from its place around Batgirl’s waist. “Once we set up our alibi with Batgirl’s final, posthumous performance, we can use the homing device inside to lure more of Gotham City’s caped defenders to their doom.” Legs Parker laughed, grinning with eager anticipation.

“What a splendid idea, my dear. You’re clearly more than just a pretty face,” Penguin complimented. “Wak, wak, wak!”

Legs glanced over her shoulder as she moved to the mist machine and threw the switch into the ‘on’ position. “Buh bye, Batgirl,” Legs said. “Forever!” Batgirl’s aptly named adversary went on laughing as she walked away.

“I do wish I could linger and watch as you’re finally sunk, Batgirl,” Penguin said, pausing to bow before he turned to follow his young, blonde associate. “Unfortunately, I’ve a spectacular show to facilitate. In fact, it will be your final appearance - ever. I assure you, it will be posthumous. Wak, wak, wak! Farewell!”

Machine Gun, Mad Dog, and Pretty Boy Parker took a last longing look at their curvaceous captive as she squirmed uselessly beneath the hooks restraining her. Turning to follow Penguin, they suddenly realized he had become momentarily transfixed, utterly enthralled by the natural, rhythmic sway of their sister’s hips.

“Watch it there, Penguin,” Machine Gun warned. Despite their sister’s obvious interest in the Penguin, her brothers were habitually protective of her virtue, despite their protection being unwanted and ineffective.

‘An excellent suggestion, for starters,’ the Man of a Thousand Umbrellas thought, thrusting his bumbershoot forward and upward as he led the men from Batgirl’s death chamber. “Onward!” he enthused. The Parker brothers would never really be certain of the reason for the smile illuminating the supervillain’s face.

Alone, Batgirl listened to the machine warm up. She felt a shiver, having nothing to do with the temperature, traverse her spine as she felt the first wave of damp mist settle onto her body and the surface of the sponge to which she had been hooked.

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