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The Batcomputer traced the flour shipments to the abandoned Gotham Flour Mill on 13th Street.

“Thirteenth Street,” Robin said, bouncing on his toes. “Another baker’s dozen clue!”

Inside, the mill was running. Vats of dough spun. Conveyor belts rolled. And at the center, in a green bowler hat and question-mark apron, stood The Riddler.

“Welcome, Batman!” he cackled. “You’ve arrived just in time for… dessert!”

Before they could move, the floor panels dropped. Batman and Robin plunged into two giant glass mixing bowls. Steel lids slammed shut with a CLANG!

“Riddle me this!” The Riddler shouted through a loudspeaker. “What starts with ‘e’, ends with ‘e’, and contains one letter?”

“Envelope!” Robin yelled.

“Correct! And you’re about to be sealed inside one!” The Riddler pulled a lever. The bowls began to rotate, while nozzles above them hissed. “That’s right — industrial cake batter! In 60 seconds you’ll be Gotham’s largest Twinkies!”

Batman scanned the bowl. “Robin, your Bat-Laser!”

“I… I dropped it in the fall, Batman!” Robin’s voice shook. “Holy half-baked heroes!”

The batter rose to their chins.

ACT II: The Final Clue

The Riddler’s face appeared on a TV monitor inside the bowl.

“Now for my final riddle, Batman. Solve it, and maybe I’ll let you out. Fail… and you’ll be overdone.”

He grinned.

“I have keys but no locks. I have space but no room. You can enter, but can’t go outside. What am I?”

Batman’s mind raced. The batter was at his neck. Robin was already on tiptoe.

“A… a keyboard!” Batman shouted.

The Riddler’s laughter echoed. “BZZZT! Wrong! The answer… is a Riddle! And the only one escaping this is ME!”

With a final KA-CHUNK, the bowls sealed completely. The conveyor belt rumbled, carrying both bowls toward a massive brick oven labeled “The Bat-Bakery 5000”.

EPILOGUE: Just Desserts

That evening, the Gotham Gazette headline read:

RIDDLER SERVES UP DYNAMIC DUO! Batman & Robin Missing, Declared “Done” by Police

At the Gotham Flour Mill, The Riddler stood before the mayor, the commissioner, and a crowd of reporters. He held up two golden-brown, human-shaped cakes on silver platters.

“Behold!” he cried. “I promised Gotham I’d take the cake… and I delivered! The Bat is baked, the Bird is browned, and crime is back on the menu!”

He took a bow as cameras flashed. “And remember, citizens… crime doesn’t pay? Riddle me THAT!”

As the crowd murmured in shock, The Riddler slipped into a green getaway van, honking a horn that played Pop Goes the Weasel. On the passenger seat sat a fresh riddle, addressed to Gotham:

“What’s green, mean, and finally beat the Bat? Yours truly. – E. Nigma”

The van sped off into the night, leaving only crumbs and question marks behind.