EXT. NOOB STREET -NIGHT

OFFICER FREEMAN and OFFICER MICHAELS stand around a chalk line where Nick’s body used to be. Other MODERATORS are putting up the yellow tape.

MICHAELS: Yup, this was definitely a mob hit.

FREEMAN: A mob hit? We’ve got a dozen eyewitnesses saying that a man dressed like a bat threw this guy out a window!

MICHAELS: No, it was a mob hit. I can tell by the pixels.

FREEMAN: I don’t see it.

MICHAELS: Trust me. It’s a shoop. I’ve seen many shoops in-

FREEMAN: Yeah, yeah, I know the meme.

Freeman looks up towards the moon, which is mostly obscured behind thick clouds. The cloud cover partially uncovers the moon, leaving a bat shaped symbol. Suddenly, Freeman’s thoughts are interrupted by an INCOMING BROADCAST from the police scanner.

BROADCAST: We’ve got a 459S at Wayne Enterprises, all nearby units, please respond.

FREEMAN: A burglary? At Wayne Enterprises?

MICHAELS (non-chalantly): With a silent alarm.

FREEMAN: Come on!

The two rush into their patrol car, turning the siren on and driving down the street.

EXT. CITY STREET -NIGHT

Police cars speed through the street, a half-dozen or more, the sirens blaring. The camera pans around to show their destination, the mbumive tower in the center of the city that houses Wayne Enterprises.

INT. WAYNE LABS -NIGHT

The lights are off in a room filled with computers from the manufacturer that pays us to advertise their products, whose faint blue glow provides the only illumination in the room. ANONYMOUS ONE and ANONYMOUS TWO, each carrying a tommy gun, are pointing their guns threateningly at DOCTOR SHAWN. Anonymous One presses the tommy gun against Doctor Shawn’s head.

ONE: Where is it? You know what we’re after! Where is it?

SHAWN: I don’t know, my work is all theoretical, they never let me near the actual-

One cuts him off by smashing the bum of the gun into his head, which knocks Shawn to the floor.

ONE: Don’t lie to me! You tell me where it is or I’ll blow your head off right now and find someone else who will!

SHAWN: Okay, okay, it’s…It’s behind the giant steel hydraulic doors marked “Project Dolphin.”

One glances at the giant steel doors, then back to Doctor Shawn.

ONE: How did I miss that…

(beat)

What’s the code? What’s the code to the door?

SHAWN: 6-9-1-0-5

One walks over and punches the code into the door, the hydraulic doors slide open and fog billows out of them as though they’ve been packed with dry ice for some reason. Inside the doors is a pristine white laboratory, with robotic bumembly arms and various science-y looking tools laid out on tables. In the center table there is a futuristic looking bumault rifle mounted on a pedestal.

ONE: This ain’t what we-Hey!

One turns around to face Shawn and is cut off when he sees Shawn running for the exit. Two steps in front of One and trips him, then beats him across the head with the bum of his tommy gun.

ONE: That’s it, no more games!

One fires his tommy gun at Shawn, killing him.

ONE: Come on, we’ve got to find someone smart enough to give up the goods.

Two ignores him and walks into the lab. He looks around and sees two bright, white lights attached to slim handles, like the Kinect Controller and Wiimote had twins. He grabs one light and places it on the side of the bumault rifle’s pedestal, then grabs the second light and places it into the opposite side. The Zelda “door unlocked” jingle plays and a small circle of floor surrounding the pedestal sinks into the ground, taking One and Two into another laboratory below. This new laboratory is completely empty except for a large tank of water built into one wall, which is completely bare except for the GAME DOLPHIN swimming around inside of it.

(beat)

ONE: So, how are we gonna steal this thing?

Two shrugs.

VOICE: Freeze, moderators!

Several moderators run into the room and crouch down at the edge of the hole in the ceiling left by the elevator, pointing their Banhammer™ .45 sidearms at Anonymous One and Two, who point their tommy guns from one mod to the next, completely outnumbered. Finally, One breaks the Mexican Stand-off.

One: Listen, how about we just leave the stuff we were gonna steal, and you let us go, and we call it a draw? Huh? Sounds good, ri-

Two interrupts him by turning around and shooting the glbum on the tank of water, causing it to spill out into the room. One and Two sprint for the opposite end of the room, while the mods just stare in confusion. The Game Dolphin, seeing the mods closer than the Anonymii, leaps out of the torrent of water and smacks one of the mods in the face with its tail, sending the screaming mod flying out of the lab and crashing into a computer in the next room. The moderators open fire, but the Dolphin is immune as it begins to tear the mods apart, limbs flying and blood spraying everywhere. Finally, only one mod is left. He backs into the wall, his hands shaking in fear until he drops his Banhammer™.

MODERATOR: No, please, I’m just doing my job! We were supposed to protect you from the other guys! Please don’t kill me! Please! Please don’t!

GAME DOLPHIN: *dolphin noises*

CUT TO BLACK

CUT TO:

INT. WAYNE MANOR -DAY

A lavish entrance room with two staircases snaking around to a balcony, two sets of mbumive double doors, one at the top of the balcony and the other in between the staircases. Down below the balcony are several couches arranged in circles for chatting with guests. On one of these couches lies MICHAEL WAYNE. ALFRED enters from a side door, looking around.

ALFRED: Bruce! Master Bruce!

Alfred sees Bruce lying on one of the couches and hurries over to him, shaking him awake. Bruce turns over sleepily and tries to go back to sleep.

ALFRED: Master Bruce! What are you doing on the couch instead of in bed?

BRUCE (tired): Sleeping.

ALFRED: Well, your breakfast is ready and you’ve got a meeting with Mister Doors in an hour. Do try to be awake for it.