Bullets bounced off the Batmobile harmlessly, clanking on the floor like useless pieces of tin.

The Batmobile hummed and whirred, from the bonnet appeared cannon. Penguin’s thugs tried shooting at it but the Batmobile swerved avoiding the weapons. The cannon fired electric darts that caused the goons to drop like dominoes.

Bruce got up, stepping over the stunned bodies of Penguin’s goons who were all dazed and confused. The Batmobile at the back of the truck Bruce was about to jump inside when he felt something poke at his chest.

The Penguin, still dazed had the tip of his umbrella by Bruce’s chest.

“I’m not letting you go Brucie boy.”

Bruce quickly turned, the Umbrella firing upwards and bashed Penguin’s face against the side of the truck. After making sure he was knocked out, Bruce jumped into the Batmobile.

…

Spider-Man and Robin saw a black speck hopping into the Batmobile.

“He’s safe,” Robin said.

“What about Penguin’s guys?” Spider-Man asked. “Looks like they’re up to something.”

As if answering his question, the truck the Penguin was in skidded ahead and the circle of half a dozen trucks surrounded it. The doors of those trucks burst open and from within the dozen vans, thugs clambered on top of the truck, others were in the back, all of them had automatic weapons. To make matters worse, the back door of the truck in leading the rear slammed open revealing a thug with a…

“Is that a gatling gun?” Spider-Man asked.

The goons opened fire. Robin swerved to avoid the rain of bullets hailing on them. Spider-Man’s spider sense was buzzing like a school alarm.

Robin swerved his bike behind the Batmobile where the bullets didn’t leave so much as a scratch on its sleek black metal surface.

“Can’t your Bat-Dad do something?” Spider-Man asked, screaming his question out loud as his question drowned in the sea of bullets.

“Please don’t call him that,” Robin said. “If Batman does do something, he runs the risk of killing some of them.”

“What about those electric thingies?”

“They’re in limited supply,” Robin explained.

One of the bullets grazed Spider-Man’s shoulders.

“So now what?” Spider-Man asked. “Do we just die?”

The radio on Robin’s bike buzzed. “Robin.” It was the voice of Batman, cold and formal. “They are two trucks flanking the Penguin’s truck and the Vibranium weapons. I can handle the one on the right that leaves you and Spider-Man with the one on the left?”

“What about the others?” Robin asked. “Especially the one with the goddamn gatling gun.”

“Batgirl’s in the woods,” Batman said. “When I give the order, she’ll appear and handle the others.”

“By herself?” Robin said, the sudden burst of passion taking Spider-Man aback. “Batman that’s insane. She can’t…”

The radio cut off. Robin sighed.

“Who’s this Batgirl?” Spider-Man asked. “Your girlfriend.”

“None of your business web-head,” Robin said.

Spider-Man raised his hand in surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to be so edgy.”

The Batmobile suddenly swerved to the side taking a brunt of bullets. And shooting out of it like a bullet was Batman. The goons all had their weapons trained on him now and were about to fire when…

Spider-Man and Robin started knocking them out. Spider-Man webbing up their guns and Robin knocking them out with his strength, throwing the same boomerang things at them that Spider-Man saw the Batman use. Meanwhile Batman wasn’t falling far behind, he threw a small disabler device when he jumped on the thug’s guns that caused their weapon to emit a burst of electricity when they tried to fire it causing them to drop their weapons. All of Penguin’s men on the other trucks had their weapons trained on him but before they could fire, they were greeted by a sudden burst of smoke.

On of Penguin’s men tried knocking Robin across the head with a wrench, Spider-Man quickly webbed up his hand and yanked him backwards, his head hit the metal surface of the truck and he was knocked out.

“Hey Batboy,” Spider-Man said. “Pay more attention to your surroundings.”

Spider-Man’s head started buzzing. One of the thugs had regained consciousness and had his gun pointed at Spider-Man. Before he could fire Robin pulled out his grappling gun and disarmed him, yanking the gun away. He then leaped over Spider-Man and kicked him across the face.

“Could say the same about you, red tights,” Robin said.

“Doesn’t have the same ring as Batboy.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “But at least when I’m in costume people don’t see my crotch.”

Spider-Man looked down and then back at Robin again. “Good one.”

Meanwhile the Batman was no where to be seen. Carl, the man behind the gatling gun sighed. He really wanted to do in the Bat for putting him down at Blackgate. Left him with a black eye too. Carl had it in for that pointy eared son of a bitch ever since them. After all, he was just a dude in a black suit with a bunch of fancy technology. He wasn’t like that Captain America guy who could carry entire trucks. Carl still had some of the playing cards.

Frustrated that he wouldn’t be the one to do the Bat dirty, Carl fired at the Batmobile. The bullets bouncing harmlessly off its sleek metallic surface. Carl wondered if the Boss’s fancy high tech weapons could do something to that glorified tank. After all it was made out of that fancy Vibralium or whatever. Carl didn’t care about the specifics.

The boys up top were dealing with the Batman’s colourful sidekick and that Spider-Man character. That just left Carl with a handful of goons up top with that Indian Chandu as a driver. Carl hated Chandu. Pretentious prick.

“Yo Carl,” Jeff called from up there. “You okay down there?”

“Yeah,” Carl replied. “Bored out of my wits though. How are y’all holding up?”

“Fine,” Jeff said. “Spider-Man and Robin are giving the boys a run for their money. Seems they’re headed straight to the boss.”

Carl chuckled. “Seems like we’re safe here. What do you think happened to the Bat? You think he chickened out. Eh, Jeff.”

Jeff didn’t reply.

“Jeff?”

The truck suddenly veered off course. Carl heard someone yelp. Carl heard horns honking and tyres screeching until the car suddenly crashed into a tree.

He heard some pained grunts that were silenced, he heard heavy fists. Not knowing what to do Carl sought the metallic comfort of the gatling gun. Even though there was a thick veil of smoke obscuring his view, Carl was ready to fire at anything that moved in front of him.