Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Batman: The Long Halloween, Issue #1 – “Chapter One: Crime”!

I’ve been putting this one off for only one reason: thirteen issues is a lot to get through. I may break this up into a few chunks depending on how much momentum I find myself chugging along with. But, I’m looking forward to this! It’s supposed to be one of the best Batman stories of all time. And, unlike ”one of the best Superman stories of all time”, I expect this one to be actually good.

No more preamble! There’s a long-ass Halloween to experience.

Batman: The Long Halloween, Issue #1 [December, 1996]
Written by: Jeph Loeb
“Chapter One: Crime”

“I believe in Gotham City,” says a rather dapper, intimidating man. “I only came here tonight out of respect for my parents, who… knew your family…”

This rather, intimidating man is none other than Bruce Wayne! You may know him! The party is lavish, a veritable who’s-who of distinguished guests and snobby up-turned noses. Carmine “The Roman” Falcone throws a wedding for his nephew even though he tried to kill him recently. Hypocrisy at its finest! The mafia is funny that way sometimes.

Carmine Falcone would like Bruce’s assistance in bringing business to Gotham. Bruce isn’t going to work with scum. Putrid little scum. Falcone kisses a rose. “That’s disappointing,” he says, then shoots Bruce Wayne dead with a gun. The end.

“Life is made up of little disappointments, Mr. Falcone,” Bruce lectures. “It’s what makes what we do so… challenging.” And he walks the fuck out of the room.

Falcone’s right-hand man, Milos, suggests… er… “encourages” Bruce to make the right decision. Falcone disapproves, although his blessing would be nice…

Bruce eavesdrops outside the door like somebody’s bratty sister. Alberto Falcone, the Oxford graduate of the family and the “good son”, asks if Bruce needs any help. He eyeballs Bruce like he’s a nasty, food poisoning-inducing shrimp cocktail.

Returning to the party, decides it’s time start dancing with some of the more well-dressed broads of the evening. He catches Selina “Catwoman” Kyle’s eye and they do some freak dancing on the floor! Writhing and squirming and playing hella Twister without a mat.

Alice Cooper, you lookin’ fine, sir!

Johnny Viti, the groom, looks like a big bowl cut dumb guy. His mom calls him over to inquire about the handsome dancing dude, and Johnny knows who he is. Why, that’s Wayne Bruce! Or something to that effect. “Ya want I should make him say hello or something, Momma?” the big galoot asks. Momma looks intrigued, to say the least. Perhaps a bit of a girl boner has been popped?

Alberto talks to Carmine about wanting to get involved to help him out, but Carmine grabs his cheeks endearingly and tells him to butt out. He should be chasing after pretty girls and having a wedding of his own! Not getting involved in illegitimate business and/or Bruce Wayne’s affairs! Silly old boy!

Milos interrupts the father/son bonding. Harvey Dent has been spotted on the parking garage security camera. He’s busy scribbling license plate numbers on a pad, lamenting his evening away from home with a cool bottle of Duff beer and a fan blowing on his sweaty, sweat brow.

It looks like someone cracks him in the head with a bat, bitching about his meddling. The assailant even threatens his wife! Next thing he knows, he’s coming to and seeing Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle helping him up. “I hope I didn’t spoil your evening,” Bruce says without irony. Do these two dudes like each other? I’m not up to speed on my Harvey Dent.

Dent tells them to bugger off. Bruce is suspicious of Harvey’s intentions. Then they kiss each other goodnight.

“Friend of yours?” Selina asks later.

“I’ve… contributed to his campaign for District Attorney. I believe in Harvey Dent.”

“In this city, that’s saying something.”

Sorry Selina, but boy do you bore the shit out of me.

When Selina asks if he’s got plans for the rest of the evening, Bruce makes a big point to make a fake yawn and proclaim his exhaustion. Turning in the for the evening sounds like a capital idea! Heh heh. “Your loss,” she says, leaving and looking for some other poor sap to bone.

Meanwhile, Police Captain Jim “Gary Oldman” Gordon is spending another long night in the office apologizing to his wife for his raging workaholicism. Dent bursts into his office and asks for a drink. He looks like he’s been sat on by seven elephants. Gordon tut-tuts at Dent for sneaking around the parking garage at a mafia wedding like a doofus.

Man, that Falcone family! How are we ever gonna bring them down! They’re tough and they got guns, man! GUNS!

Good thing Gordon knows a guy. A real batlike individual. Rugged as he is nimble. It will truly be a sight to behold, this batlike guy thwarting the biggest crime family in Gotham City! Too bad it’ll take 13 issues!

Back at the wedding, both Selina and Bruce had noticed an unattended safe in the building. Selina, as Catwoman, attempts to pilfer its contents. Bruce, as Batman, is onto her. And these two are so stupid that they don’t know and can’t tell each other’s identities. This isn’t the first time they’re meeting up in this penthouse, and it surely won’t be the last either. Especially with all the sex that’s going to happen!

“My business here this evening does not involve you,” Batman rasps.

“Funny…” Catwoman hisses. “I don’t believe you.”

They fight a little bit before a group of men enter the room and start shooting around. “Take them down!” one says. They do not get taken down. The masked ones escape while the unmasked ones are rendered neutral.

“In my own home. Where my children sleep. On my nephew’s wedding day!” The scary face of Carmine Falcone emerges from the gunsmoke. Three horrible incompetent muscleheads, including Milos, are lying supine on the floor. Milos’ only explanation is that Batman, and indeed Catwoman, were on the premises.

Oh shit! A guy in tights? A woman in leather? And you didn’t videotape their sexual indulgences???

Entering the room is the cackling Salvatore “The Boss” Maroni, who is Carmine’s chief rival for the control of Gotham City. You could slice bread with his widow’s peak.

“Milos, get Mr. Maroni a drink.” Carmine Falcone grits his teeth. “The rest of you, spread the word. One million dollars for either of them. The bat or the cat.”

Batman and Catwoman, meanwhile, have taken their fight outside. She taunts and hoots and hollers while he all but yells “stop it, waahh, nooooo” at her japes.

“Catwoman, what were you doing at Falcone’s?”

“Nope. That would be telling. And the last thing I would want to do… is make it easy for you.”

She slips away right in front of him. Foiled again! And then, without even a moment’s break, that danged Bat-signal illuminates the night sky. Stupid Gordon. Get a cellphone.

Dent is waiting up on the roof with Gordon. They discuss their similarly shitty marriages. “Suppose we wait here all night and he doesn’t show up?” Dent hazards impatiently. And, of course, just like he was waiting under the eaves for 45 minutes waiting for his cue, Batman shows up all like “you rang?”

Batman surmises correctly, because he’s fucking Bruce Wayne and he was a the fucking party, that Harvey Dent has been working on the Roman case. Carmine “The Roman” Falcone, in case you, the reading audience, are having a hard time following my 3rd-grade-reading-level blog.

“I’ve got files full of ‘unsolved’ robberies – hijackings – murders with his name all over them,” Dent frowns. “His money will buy the witnesses. The cops. The judges. In what way is the Roman not above the law?” Sounds like he is to me. Lots of rich people are above the law, right? I would mention a certain ex-president, but he’s not actually rich. lmao

A threeway is in the mix tonight, gentlemen. *wink*

“I want to be clear on this,” says Gordon. “In our… zeal… to bring Falcone to justice. I’ll let you bend the rules, but we cannot break them. Otherwise, how are we different from him?”

“Of course,” responds Dent with a big ol’ puss on his face.

Batman just stares and frowns. After being pressed, he finally agrees (but he won’t actually make good on it, obviously, because he’s an asshole).

And suddenly, like a poof, the hero is gone.

“You know, there was a time… when I suspected you were Batman,” Gordon says to Dent.

“Sorry. I’m quite happy with who I am,” responds Dent with an air of somebody who hates himself.

They find a copy of the Roman’s ledger on the roof out of nowhere. Batman must have left it behind. It has all sorts of dates and dollars and numbers on it. Someone smarter could figure out this ancient cipher! As it stands, though, we’ll get back to it another time.

Later, Bruce Wayne is at his monthly Board meeting of the Gotham City Bank. He’s livid as a rattlesnake in heat, I tell you whut. “Everyone in this room knows where the Falcone family comes from! Gambling, rackateering, drugs! For us to even consider doing business with them–”

Yeah yeah yeah yeah. The guy arguing with Bruce, curly blond pinstripe suit Richard Daniel, says that he’s making some wild accusations about the family! How dare you! His monocle is falling in his wine glass as we speak and breathe! Why, the family deals with importing/exporting of Italian shoes and nothing more!

Some other guy agrees with Richard. Business is business, and they could use Falcone’s business. Bruce insists that the Falcones just want to launder their dirty money. He walks away STEADFAST in his resolve!

BORING! Where are the funnies??

Later, at Richard Daniel’s lavish mansion, a particularly dark-cowled individual breaks into the property and warns the guy to keep Falcone’s money out of the bank. Next thing you know, the papers show Richard Daniel resigning and Bruce Wayne stepping in to head the Gotham City Bank. AWFULLY SUSPICIOUS, WOULDN’T YOU SAY?!

In August, one month later, Falcone is livid that no bank in town will take his money ever since Richard Daniel resigned. He and Maroni “The Boss” Springsteen are collaborating on the problem. The other crime families, those in Chicago and New York, they’re looking at Falcone sideways. Something seems fishy in their eyes and it’s not their lovely fish casserole banquets! I can assure you.

Alberto Falcone chimes in to say that there might be a way, but he gets cut off immediately. Here’s an idea: get Johnny back from his goddamn two-month honeymoon! Falcone needs that kid NOW!

In September, a rather happy-looking Richard Daniel is taking his lovely lady for a night on the town. They muse about spending their autumn in Paris when Johnny Viti guns that fucker down right in front of everyone.

Meanwhile, to lighten the mood, Jim Gordon is angrily scrubbing dishes in his house. Perhaps now that the dog days of summer are over, the family can go on vacation and–

RING RING! Phone’s for you, Mustache. Mafia crime in the city. Call Harvey Dent ASAP. No vacation for you.

Harvey Dent’s wife takes the call. Richard Daniel has been murdered in cold blood.

Someone guns down Johnny while he’s in the tub.

“Two shots to the head,” Dent says, making a weird bucktoothed grimace. “You ask me, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

“District Attorney Dent!” Gordon points a fat, sweaty finger at the man. “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk coming from you – either publically or privately.”

Batman is there too. They go over the hard facts: a .22 caliber handgun was left at the scene. It was missing a serial number, it had no prints, and it was a gun disguised as a flower disguised as a gun. Who has the CAHONES to whack Johnny Viti?? Perhaps Maroni? Perhaps JOHNNY VITI! No, wait, he’s dead. Um…

I would’ve left this sausage party too ASAP.

After wondering if Carla Viti would whack off her own son, Batman leaves to follow this flimsy lead. Elsewhere, Catwoman is on the roof wondering where Batman is going AT THIS HOUR? It’s the hour of the wolf, and I don’t want to die! And furthermore, w–

“I was wondering where you’ve been,” Batman says to Catwoman, sizing her up.

“In case you haven’t heard, Falcone has a million-dollar bounty on my head.”

“Mine, too.”

“Yes, well, I’m not you.”

Sounds like a fun dick-measuring contest, but we need to get down to brass tacks here! Batman knew that Catwoman would be skulking around spying on the lot of them. Why? What does she want? “I don’t want to help,” she says. “But, I might be able to be helpful.”

She gets all up in his face, purring and hacking up hairballs. Then she… whispers… sweet nothings… into his ear holes…

It’s now Halloween night. Batman and Dent are quietly manuevering through what looks like a warehouse following Catwoman’s lead. “Follow the money. That’s how Catwoman began. Seems Falcone hasn’t been able to launder his money for a while now. He’s been forced to STOCKPILE it.” And lo’, there are neat building-sized stacks of money all over the place. Millions upon millions upon millions of dollars. Billions, even! Perhaps trillions. It seems like too much money. It’s an ungodly amount of money. It looks fake. This fake-ass money is just comic book money. Ain’t real. Case closed.

Let’s light it on fire now.

Dirty money burns more quickly!

“Somewhere in the city, The Roman isn’t laughing anymore.”

We end with Harvey Dent returning to his house, smiling at all the children outside trick-or-treating. His wife smiles at him. He smiles back. It’s been a good day. Oh, there’s a package in the mail? Sounds good, honey. Let’s just open it!

His house blows up.

Final Thoughts

Is there where he becomes Mr. Two-Face? Ol’ Two Faces? Double Trouble, Face-Style? Oh boy! Good stuff so far, let’s keep this train moving or else my name isn’t Falcone Maroni. Or something to that effect.