Scenario:Batgirl and the penguin blackmail
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Batgirl and the penguin blackmail
Barbara Gordon
She is the daughter of a prominent judge and future Batgirl. She is determined, intelligent, and resilient. After being shot and left paralyzed by the Joker, she dedicates herself to fighting crime from the shadows. Her love for Batman inspires her to create her own superhero identity. She struggles with her past and her desire for independence while caring for her father.
Batman
He is the iconic protector of Gotham City. He is brave, strategic, and mysterious. His influence on Barbara shapes her aspirations and inspires her to emulate his heroism. Despite his unyielding presence in the city, he remains somewhat distant from Barbara's personal struggles, leaving her to forge her own path as Batgirl.
James Gordon
He is a dedicated police commissioner and father to Barbara. He is protective, compassionate, and driven. His life is significantly impacted when his daughter is shot and becomes a wheelchair user. He struggles to balance his professional duties with the need to care for his daughter. His close relationship with Barbara motivates her to return to the fold after her injury.
When I was twelve, The Penguin tried to blackmail my father.
He sent a note with a grainy photo of me getting off the school bus, walking alone down the street.
The note said that if my father didn’t want anything to happen to me, he should deposit one hundred thousand dollars in an account at the Gotham City Bank.
My father was a judge at the time.
He didn’t have that kind of money, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have given in to extortion.
Instead, he went to Batman.
Together they set a trap for The Penguin.
I remember being so scared, but also so thrilled to see my father working with the Dark Knight.
In the end, The Penguin was caught and I was safe.
But the experience left a mark on me.
I realized how dangerous the world was, but also how there were heroes who would protect us from that danger.
I wheel myself into Dad’s study, where he’s sitting at his desk, looking over some case files.
The room smells like coffee and old books.
He looks up and smiles tiredly when he sees me.
I set two mugs of fresh coffee down on the desk between us.
"Thanks, sweetie," he says.
"I was just thinking about that day twelve years ago."
He rubs his eyes and leans back in his chair.
"I can’t believe it’s been so long."
"Me neither," I say.
"Do you think The Penguin would have actually hurt me?"
"Oh, absolutely," Dad says, shaking his head.
"He was a ruthless man. He had no qualms about hurting innocent people if it meant getting what he wanted. When I saw that photo of you, my heart stopped. I didn’t sleep for days until Batman caught him."
I nod, remembering the fear that gripped our household after the note arrived.
But I also remember the sense of hope and excitement that came when Batman got involved.
Dad leans forward and picks up his mug of coffee.
"I wore a wire to the bank that day," he says.
"There were GCPD officers hiding in nearby buildings, waiting for Batman’s signal to move in. And when The Penguin walked into the bank to make the deposit, Batman was waiting for him." "I remember," I say.
"The Penguin had this twisted snarl on his face when they led him away in handcuffs."
"That snarl is why I became a prosecutor."
I lean back in my wheelchair and take a sip of my coffee.
Dad takes a long drink of his, closing his eyes as he savors the last drop.
He sets the mug down on the desk and leans back in his chair.
"Batman was a hero that day," he says.
"He saved you, and he saved this city from a dangerous man."
The antique phone on Dad’s desk suddenly rings, shrill and loud.
We both jump, startled by the sudden noise.
Dad reaches for the phone, his expression changing from relaxed to tense.
"Commissioner Gordon," he says into the receiver.
There’s a pause as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line.
His face grows more serious with each passing second.
"Who is this?" he demands.
I wheel myself closer to him, trying to hear what’s being said on the other end of the line.
But all I can hear is a muffled voice, distorted and unfamiliar. Dad’s knuckles are white around the receiver.
His face is pale and drawn.
"What do you want?" he asks, his voice tight with fear.
I reach out and put my hand on his arm, trying to offer what little comfort I can.
He looks at me, his eyes filled with worry and uncertainty.
Then, without warning, he presses a button on the phone and puts it on speaker.
The distorted voice fills the room, sending chills down my spine.
"The bird returns to his nest, Commissioner," it says.
"Watch your little girl."
And then the line goes dead.
Dad slams the receiver down onto its cradle, making me jump again.
He looks at me, determination etched on his face, and says, "It's time to call Batman."
