39 OMITTED 39
thru thru
42 42
42A INT. WAYNE MANOR LIVING ROOM - THAT NIGHT 42A
Alfred is standing on a stepladder attaching ornaments to a
Christmas tree， but finding his attention claimed by the TV.
Bruce is sitting on the couch， also entranced by the lead
item on the local news.
TV ANCHORMAN'S VOICE
This morning's miracle…… Gotham
will never forget.
42B INSERT - TV SCREEN 42B
The rest of the scene in Gotham Plaza plays out on video：
Now Penguin is fully out above the pavement， so we can
see how he'd miraculously floated up …… on a big Rubber
Duck attached to a tall scissor-lift. As CAMERA ZOOMS
IN：
ANCHORMAN'S VOICE
That's him： The shadowy， much
rumored penguin-man of the sewers，
arisen. Until today， he'd been
another tabloid myth， alongside
the Abominable Snowman and the Loch
Ness Monster ……
The Mayor's wife snatches up her baby in tears. Then， *
fighting nausea， she embraces the modest， abashed
Penguin —— whose eyes heartbreakingly blink in the
unaccustomed light.
ANCHORMAN'S VOICE
But now this odd little man-beast
can proudly stand tall， alongside
our own legendary Batman.
The Mayor tries to shake Penguin's hand …… but somehow
Max Shreck is standing between them， patting Penguin's
back.
ANCHORMAN'S VOICE
Gotham's leading citizen， Max Shreck，
had been on a fact-finding mission in
Gotham Plaza……
Shreck whispers something in Penguin's pointy little ear
—— c'mon， you're a hero， it's your moment. Embarrassed，
but —— aw， what the hell —— Penguin takes a little bow. *
Gotham Plaza erupts. "Joy To The World" PEALS over the
PA.
42C INT. WAYNE MANOR LIVING ROOM - NIGHT 42C
Bruce and Alfred are both frozen （Alfred's arm
outstretched to the tree， ornament dangling）。 Both still
staring， at：
42D INSERT - TV SCREEN 42D
Penguin is in Gotham Plaza， doing a live interview. *
Shabby but proud in his tattered cloak， shielding his eyes
with a small， touchingly frayed umbrella from the glare of
the studio lights. He haltingly， earnestly tells CAMERA：
PENGUIN
All I want in return …… is the
chance to …… to find my folks.
Find out who they are …… and，
thusly， who I am …… and then，
WITH my parents， just …… try to
understand why …… why they did
what I guess they felt they had
to do， to a child who was born
looking a little …… different.
A child who spent his first
Christmas， and many since， in a
sewer.
42E INT. WAYNE MANOR LIVING ROOM - NIGHT 42E
Alfred is back to trimming the tree. But Bruce still
stares at the TV screen. Presently：
ALFRED
Mr. Wayne …… Something wrong？
BRUCE
No， nothing， ah ……
（pause）
His parents …… I …… I hope he
finds them.
Alfred murmurs his agreement： that would be nice.
HOLD ON BRUCE as he continues to scrutinize the image of
the Penguin， on the screen……
42F EXT. HALL OF RECORDS - NEXT DAY 42F
Press Photographers jostle to snap photos through the
windows of the baroque old building. Frustrated Journal-
ists， barred from the building by a row of Cops， inter-
view each other.
JOURNALIST 1
Whattaya think he'll DO to his mom
and dad， when he finds 'em？
JOURNALIST 2
（stupid question）
What would you do to your mom and pa，
if they flushed YOU down the poop-
chute？
An AGGRESSIVE REPORTER tries to sneak in through a side
entrance. He's grabbed by two Shreck Security GUARDS.
GUARD 1
（escorting him off）
Mr. Penguin is not to be disturbed.
AGGRESSIVE REPORTER
（professional outrage）
The Hall of Records is a public
place！ You're violating the First
Amendment， abridging the freedom
off the press ——！
Suddenly Max Shreck is standing here， surrounded by a
posse of his own sympathetic reporters， who jot down every
pearl.
MAX
What about the freedom to rediscover
your roots， with dignity， with privacy？
AGGRESSIVE REPORTER
What's the deal， Mr. Shreck？ Is
the Penguin a personal friend ——？
He thrusts his tape-recorder at Max's mouth. Shreck
smiles.
MAX
Yes he's a personal friend. Of this
whole city. So have a heart， buddy.
He flicks off the reporter's Record button.
MAX
And give the Constitution a rest，
okay？ It's Christmas.
42G INT. HALL OF RECORDS - DAY 42G
We find Penguin alone in the vast， silent Main Hall.
Seated at an enormous table. Surrounded by files marked
"Birth Certificates" …… hundreds of thousands of birth
records of Gotham's citizens， past and present ……
…… and Penguin is patiently checking each certificate，
"thumbing" through them all with his slimy left flipper……
His right flipper is wrapped around a pen. Every so
often， Penguin pauses， then jots down another name， on a
legal pad. So singleminded in his search， he doesn't hear
the muffled CRIES of his name， through the windows， from
reporters ……
DISSOLVE. It's night now. A cloak of DARKNESS through
the oversized windows …… even the press has gone home ……
but Penguin is still here， he hasn't budged.
Still methodically "flipping" through all those birth
certificates …… and still jotting down names …… MALE
NAMES， BOY'S NAMES …… on a legal pad. He's filled many
pads by now —— a tall stack of them.
By the eerie light of a single table-lamp， he keeps
writing.
42H EXT. GOTHAM STREET - NIGHT 42H
The Batmobile sleekly cruises down a deserted street.
42-I INT. BATMOBILE （MOVING） - NIGHT 42-I
As Batman drives， Alfred's face comes on a screen inside
the Batmobile.
ALFRED
The city's been noticeably quiet
since the thwarted baby-napping
…… yet still you patrol. What
about eating？ Sleeping？ You
won't be much good to anyone else *
if you don't look after yourself. *
BATMAN
The Red Triangle Circus Gang ……
they're jackals， Alfred. They
hunt in packs， at night ——
ALFRED
Are you concerned about that
strange， heroic Penguin person？
Batman scoffs —— then glances out the window， at：
42J THE HALL OF RECORDS 42J
Surprise， that's where he's cruising.
The one light inside still burns， throwing a long shadow
of the strange， hunched-over Penguin —— at his desk，
resolutely doing his research.
In front of the building are a Shreck Guard and a Police-
man. Both slumped on the front stairs， both snoozing.
42K INT. BATMOBILE - LATE NIGHT 42K
As Batman drives around the Hall， checking the silent
street for trouble， then surveying the single lit window，
again：
BATMAN
（ambiguous）
Funny you should ask， Alfred.
Maybe I AM a bit concerned.
42L EXT. CEMETERY - DAY 42L
A MOB of PRESS， MORBID CURIOSITY-SEEKERS， even some over-
night PENGUIN-GROUPIES， try to muscle their way into this
grand， well-tended boneyard for the rich and expired.
Gotham's own Forest Lawn， and a flying wedge of the city's
FINEST， arms interlocked， keeps out the rabble， as ……
The Penguin， in threadbare black， waddles past the
manicured headstones to the twin markers etched with the
names Tucker Cobblepot and Esther Cobblepot.
Now， reaching his parents' final resting places， he falls
to his knees —— not very far to go. The plucks two wilted
old roses from his sleeve， and places one upon each plot.
From behind the police barricade， camera motor-drives
WHIRR. Not an instant of this drama is being lost to
posterity. A Penguin groupie faints. Around her， other
girls pick up the cue —— some wail， others swoon.
After a moment of silent contemplation， Penguin rises again.
Mournfully shambles back to the crowded cemetery entrance.
AGGRESSIVE REPORTER
（he's back）
So —— Mr. Penguin ——！
PENGUIN
（quiet， tragic dignity）
I have a name. It's Oswald
Cobblepot.
