The ropes spilled onto the floor, untangling like a noodle. Bruce pressed a button on his cufflink. Deep within the confines of the Batcave, the Batmobile revved.

Now all that was left were the half a dozen goons in the back of the truck and the Penguin, peering out of the back of the truck to make sure the job was done.

Piece of cake, Bruce thought. He’d be done before dinner.

…

A radio crackled on Robin’s bike.

“Robin,” said a voice, the voice of a girl. “Bruce is just up ahead; you’ll have to hurry though. Penguin is nearing city limits and we can’t risk him firing that weapon when they’re civilians around.”

“Thanks Batgirl,” Robin said. There was something very familiar about his voice that Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“There’s a Batgirl too?” Spider-Man asked. Robin ignored his remark.

“So, Spider-Dork,” Robin asked. “You coming or not?”

Hell yeah, Peter was. Sure, he didn’t like Batman or his green underweared sidekick but if he could rescue his childhood hero and manage to get that high-tech weapon off of the Penguin’s hands, it would be a win in his book. He was just about to give up until Robin came along.

“Hell yeah,” Spider-Man said. “As long as I get to drive.”

Robin laughed. “Keep dreaming.”

“Come on,” Spider-Man said. “At least let me touch the handle-bars.”

Spider-Man tried grabbing on to the accelerator but Robin slapped his hand.

“No touching.”

Spider-Man mumbled something underneath his breath about green underwear.

Robin revved the gears. the bike shook vibrated causing Spider-Man to almost be shaken off.

“Hold on tight,” Robin said. “I’m about to gun it.”

“How bad could it be?” Spider-Man said.

The bike slid across the road like a rollercoaster and before long, Spider-Man was holding onto Robin’s hips for dear life.

…

Bruce could feel the cufflink beeping slowly and steadily. The Penguin turned around grinning.

“These weapons are one hell of a thing, eh Bruce,” Penguin said, he sauntered towards Bruce, Vibranium weapon in hand. The goons, relieved that Spider-Man had been dealt with slumped onto the floor, one of them keeping an eye out of what remained of the door, just in case any uninvited guests started to pop up.

“I’m sure you’re not going to tell me where you got them?” Bruce remarked.

Penguin grinned. He placed the Vibranium weapon carefully in the crate, like it was a bomb about to go off. “Still got a bit of mouth on you Brucie? You won’t be so clever when I’m done with you.”

The beeping was a bit faster now, though it would be a while before Bruce could make his escape.

The Penguin shuffled around his coat, grinning. “Vibranium weapons sure are fancy,” Penguin said, sneering. “But… now you can call me old fashioned but I prefer the up close and personal approach.”

From inside his coat, he pulled out a pair of brass knuckles.

The Penguin grinned. “They’re not going to recognise that pretty face of yours when I’m done with you.”

The Penguin walked up close to Bruce, pulling his face up delicately, almost tenderly to meet his beady eyes and sneering face then let go. The Penguin raised his fist and struck him.

Bruce spit out blood. The beeping was getting louder now.

The Penguin grinned, sneering at him. “How did that feel Brucie boy? Did that hurt? Do you need a hug from mommy?”

The Penguin gasped. “Oh wait.”

He let out a burst of hideous laughter that sounded like the cawing of crows.

“I am going to enjoy this,” the Penguin said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I’m going to enjoy seeing the mighty Bruce Wayne grovelling on the ground.”

The beeping was at its loudest now. The goons were suddenly up, their weapons pointing at someone, at something. Bruce grinned.

“Why the hell are you grinning?” Penguin growled. “Huh?”

The Penguin raised his fist but before he could strike, he was interrupted by a high-pitched voice.

“Boss,” the voice screeched. “You might want to see this.”

The Penguin turned around and the brass knuckles clattered on the floor.

…

“Hey Batboy,” Spider-Man said.

“Stop calling me that,” Robin mumbled.

“Where’s the big man?” Spider-Man asked. “I thought he’d be shivering all the way up to his pointy ears seeing that one of Gotham’s most influential billionaires is in trouble.”

“He’s brooding.”

“Brooding?” Spider-Man said. “At a time like this?”

“He says it’s important.”

“He does not have his priorities in order.”

Robin grinned. “Tell me about it.”

The voice on the radio spoke up. “You guys are getting closer.”

“What about you?”

“I’m on the way,” Batgirl said. “There’s been a hiccup, something got in my way?”

“A hiccup?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

The radio fizzled to static.

“Who’s that?” Spider-Man asked.

“Batgirl.”

“She seems like a sweet gal.”

Robin scoffed. “You clearly don’t know her as well as I do.”

There was a sudden rush of wind and the sound of mechanical plates getting into position. The shock of which almost caused Spider-Man to fall off the bike.

“What the hell was that?”

Zooming in front of them was a 1000-kilogram pitch black tank zooming around the road like a Ferrari. The Batmobile rushed on ahead without a single care in the world.

Robin grinned. “Our hiccup.”