Alfred switches off the tape， adjusts a quilted coverlet over Bruce with a paternal smile.
INT. EXERCISE ROOM - DAY
CAMERA PANS past the balancing beam， parallel bars， and exercise rings to Bruce， who faces them confidently， but this time with a big difference - HE IS BLINDFOLDED. He takes a tentative step forward， gauging his distance， then leaps up into the air - grabbing the rings with perfect accuracy！ He performs a series of difficult routines with clockwork precision， then swings through the air to the parallel bars， latching on to the lower one， then propelling himself up to the higher one. His gyrations become faster， gaining speed and momentum. Suddenly - he launches himself toward the balance beam！
Bruce lands on the end of the beam like a cat - keeping his balance， having calculated the exact distance to the inch. He steps forward with total security， travels the length of the beam with the ease of a pedestrian. Reaching the end， he does a complete forward somersault， lands solidly on his feet. Bruce removes his blindfold， stares back at the path he's just taken， amazed by himself.
ALFRED'S VOICE
Incredible！
Bruce turns. A proud Alfred beams from the doorway.
ALFRED
Why， you were blind as a bat， Sir.
CAMERA PUSHES IN on Bruce's grinning face as WE HEAR：
PRINCIPAL'S VOICE
……many talented， successful gradu-
ates of Gotham High， but none like
this young man. Holder of the
highest scholastic average in the
history of the school……
EXT. GOTHAM HIGH SCHOOL GROUNDS - DAY
CAMERA PANS the front lawn of Gotham High School. It is Graduation Day. STUDENTS and proud PARENTS sit in chairs facing a rostrum， from where the PRINCIPAL speaks：
PRINCIPAL
……eight athletic letters and
Captain of five teams， your Class
Valedictorian - Bruce Wayne！
Applause. Bruce rises in his cap and gown， makes his way to the rostrum. A confident presence glows behind his clear eyes. A self-assuredness without ego. A natural grace which exudes the maturity of a man twice his age. CAMERA PANS TO the figure of Alfred， who beams with pride.
BRUCE
Thank you， Principal Peters. Fellow
students， welcome parents， honored
faculty and guests……
EXT. BACK FO SCHOOL BUILDING - DAY
Bruce hurries down the steps in his black cap and gown， diploma in hand. A pretty COED （CINDY） passes.
CINDY
Great speech， Bruce. I sure hope
you're coming to Deedee's tonight……
BRUCE
Thanks， Cindy， but I don't think I
can make it. Marshall McLuhan is
giving a talk at the University.
CINDY
Bruce……
He turns. Cindy looks at him shyly， then moves closer.
CINDY （CONT'D）
I……hope you don't mind me saying
this， Bruce， but……well， I guess all
the girls feel the same way……
BRUCE
Feel……？
CINDY
It's just that everybody thinks
you're great……great looking and
everything……but you never seem to
have time for any……fun.
BRUCE
Fun？ What……kind of fun？
Cindy stares into his eyes with a mixture of hunger and innocence. She leans in， kisses him softly and deeply on the mouth. Bruce's eyes bulge with surprise， then slowly flutter shut. They finally break.
CINDY
（passionate whisper）
275……7634……
Bruce smiles， slides by， heads down the steps. Cindy watches wistfully.
EXT. GOTHAM STREETS - DAY
The Rolls Royce makes its way through the crowded streets.
INT. ROLLS ROYCE - DAY
Bruce stares out the window. Alfred drives on， takes a small notebook from his pocket， reads.
ALFRED
You have your guitar lesson at four，
following which， you wanted time to
finish your article for The Scien-
tific American. Tonight， Marshall
McLuhan lectures at……
Alfred stops. Bruce is lost in another world.
ALFRED （CONT'D）
Are you all right， Sir？
BRUCE
Hmm？
Bruce turns from the window. Alfred notices something.
ALFRED
Is that blood on your lip？
Bruce frowns curiously. He wipes his lip with his finger， then licks it thoughtfully.
BRUCE
Lipstick.
ALFRED
（shocked）
Lipstick？
BRUCE
Lipstick.
Alfred smiles uncomfortably. The Rolls stops at a light. Bruce notices something out the window.
ANGLE OF SHOWROOM - HIS P.O.V.
An elegant foreign car showroom. In the window， its front grill grinning back at Bruce - a BRIGHT RED FERRARI.
BACK TO ROLLS ROYCE.
BRUCE
（muttering）
275-7634……
ALFRED
Beg pardon？
BRUCE
Do you know what's wrong with me，
Alfred？
ALFRED
I can't imagine a thing， Sir.
BRUCE
I never have time for any fun.
EXT. BEACH - DAWN
The first orange rays of the sun stab upwards through the clouds in a brilliant sunrise. The bright red Ferrari is parked in the sand on the top of a high dune. The VOICES of BRUCE and CINDY drift up from below.
BRUCE'S VOICE
（sleepy； affectionate）
Good morning……
CINDY'S VOICE
Mmm……
BRUCE'S VOICE
Want to go for a swim？
CINDY'S VOICE
（pleased）
I don't think I can walk……
（soft purr）
Where'd you learn to do all that？
BRUCE'S VOICE
Here. Last night. It's strange，
but once I get the hang of something
I just can't seem to stop.
（beat）
Sorry.
CINDY'S VOICE
（dreamy）
Oh……that's okay……
CAMERA PUSHES IN on Ferrari as the ROAR of a powerful racing engine is heard， gather in intensity.
EXT. GOTHAM RACETRACK - DAY
A gleaming red Formula One racing car ROARS ACROSS THE FINISH LINE to the waving of a black-checkered flag and the WILD CHEERS of the CROWD.
ANGLE ON WINNER'S CIRCLE
WE SEE THE ADULT BRUCE WAYNE sitting in his racing machine， holding up a trophy under a banner： WINNER - GOTHAM 500.
Flashbulbs pop！ FANS cheer！ A BUXOM MISS GOTHAM leans in to pose for pictures with Bruce and share champagne from the trophy cup. A disgruntled MARIO ANDRETTI elbows his way through the throng to shake hands with the winner.
MARIO ANDRETTI
Hell of a race， Bruce.
BRUCE
Thanks， Mario.
ANDRETTI
Remember how you told me this was
just a hobby？ Well keep it that way
and let the rest of us make a
living， okay？
Miss Gotham leans in， hugs Bruce tightly， giggles， then whispers something in his ear. Bruce looks up.
BRUCE
（at Miss Gotham）
That's your hobby？
（grins）
No kidding.
INSERT SHOT - GOTHAM TRIBUNE
The Gotham Tribune cartwheels INTO FRAME： The headline reads： PRESIDENT DECLARED - I AM NOT A CROOK！
Farther down the page is a smaller headline， reading： BRUCE WAYNE DECLARES - I AM NOT THE FATHER！ Millionaire playboy cleared in Miss Gotham paternity suit.
EXT. GOTHAM COURTHOUSE - DAY
A throng a REPORTERS waits with a predominantly FEMALE CROWD at the entrance to Gotham Courthouse.
Bruce suddenly appears in the Courthouse doorway as a LOUD CHEER rises from the Female Crowd. He elbows his way through them， Alfred at his side. FLASHBULBS POP！ The Women scream and reach out at him， trying to tear off a souvenir. REPORTERS yell overlapping questions.
BRUCE
Sorry， no comment. Sorry……
ALFRED
（at hysterical Woman）
Madame， do try to compose yourself……
They reach the sidewalk and the car. Alfred heads for the front door as Bruce jostles his way inside the back.
INT. ROLLS - DAY
Bruce slams the door shut behind him， turns， stops， stares： Already sitting in the back seat is a beautiful FEMALE REPORTER， legs crossed， perfectly composed， with a portable tape recorder settled on her lap.
REPORTER
Ann Daniel. Gotham Tribune.
BRUCE
（reaching for door handle）
Bruce Wayne. Nice to have met you.
He tries the door - there's another scream from the Female Crowd who press around the car anticipating his exit. Two ANGRY FEMINISTS raise protesting placards threateningly as Bruce slams the door shut again.
BRUCE （CONT'D）
（at Alfred）
Go.
EXT. STREET - DAY
The Rolls lurches its way out of the Crowd into traffic.
INT. ROLLS - DAY
Bruce stares ahead in silence. ANN studies him with a wry smile， then pushes the "record" button on her machine.
BRUCE
Are you going to play some music？
ANN
You know what they say about Bruce
Wayne？
（no response）
That he's idle and jaded， with no
ambition left - because there's
nothing he hasn't done and been the
best at.
BRUCE
Sounds like a pretty boring guy.
