Victor's Harley-Davidson stopped outside the Iceberg Lounge.
Butch charged out of the lounge with a squad of his men, a gun raised in his silver mechanical hand, its muzzle trained on Victor's bald head.
Victor hauled Oswald off the back seat and threw him straight into Butch.
The two collided and nearly toppled to the ground together. Butch's men scrambled to steady their boss.
"I'll send you the bill later."
Victor twisted the throttle. The Harley-Davidson roared, its rear tire carving a black arc across the ground.
Ririko wrapped her arms around his waist, and the two receded into the night breeze, disappearing into Gotham's darkness.
Butch kept his gun raised, his finger on the trigger, but Oswald pushed his hand down.
"That damn bald bastard can't die yet. I still need him to pay for my Mercedes-Benz!"
Over the next few days, Gotham's media exploded.
Television, newspapers, and phone notifications all raced to report the major, seemingly unrelated stories that had broken on the same day.
Three Gotham University students had committed suicide on campus, hanging themselves from a basketball hoop. Police had ruled out foul play.
No one knew why they had chosen such an inconceivable way to kill themselves.
Dirt on the Thorne Family flooded every platform like years of filth dredged out of a sewer.
Drug trafficking, money laundering, bribing customs officials-Thorne was taken to the Gotham Police Department that very day.
The explosion in Gotham TV's underground parking garage brought the whole stew of news to a boiling point.
The blast had occurred less than an hour before the mayoral election debate began. The entire parking level had been burned beyond recognition, and it took firefighters two hours to put out the flames.
Most horrifying of all, firefighters discovered human remains while clearing the