"Who's he talking to?" inquired 21, aka Judy. 24, aka Punch, twiddled a dial on his binoculars. "Wow. Some hot chick in a red and black leotard. She's all *over* him!" "No way! Lemme see!" He reached for the binoculars, but Punch held him back. His arms flailed at the air. "She's climbing up on him, now! Criminy, she's a nimble little thing." Judy suddenly relented his attack. "Dude, he's distracted. We should take advantage of this! Our two-month stakeout will totally pay off!" "And we'll do what - kidnap Batman? Come on. He'd break us in half ... if we're *lucky*." Punch put down his binoculars to look his cohort in the eyes. "You remember what Brock Samson did to you when you snuck up on him in Brazil? And *he* didn't have little metal boomerangs or gas pellets or taser boots or any of the other insane, bat-shaped gizmos we've seen this guy employ." "Yeah, but we know what he's packing now," Judy shot back. "We've got that advantage over the gang bangers he usually fights. And besides, maybe that chick in the leotard is gonna put the whammy on him. She'll be totally grateful if we help her out." Punch considered this carefully and took another look in his binoculars. "All right. So how do we play this so we don't get killed?"
With surprising efficiency, two green and purple forms winged their way down out of the darkness and fired twin projectiles of adhesive glop at Batman's face. They touched down behind him, stumbling only a little. Judy boldly issued his challenge. "Prepare to be humiliated, caped crusader!"