RADIO ON THE ROAD

SECOND STOP: STATELY WAYNE MANOR

Wayne Manor -- Study

	The soft carpet and wooden fixtures in this room are as expensive as the rest of the
manor's fittings, but they're a bit more understated. There's a large window facing the grounds
behind the manor on the wall across from the door, framed in a latticework of black iron. Against
the other walls are high shelves, with row upon row of leather-bound books. There's a few chairs,
and a marble bust of a stolid looking man in his middle age. It faces one of the high backed
chairs in the room.

	The WHIZ van pulled up out front about fifteen minutes early, and young Billy Batson
showed up at the door with two crewmen to help him out. Vance and Jed did a fair share of ogling
as they were led through the halls of the impressive Wayne Manor, but once they were shown to the
study there were all business, setting up the recording gear and sound board with professional
care. Billy, for his part, seems rather quiet and withdrawn for a 15 year old. "This place is
sure swell, Mister Wayne," he says softly. And it doesn't take a detective to see that his mind
is dwelling on something deep within.
	A rather unremarkable boy, at first glance. Billy is in his early teens and rather
scrawny, with black hair that looks shorter than it really is thanks to a natural wave. The manly
cleft in his chin seems out of place considering his otherwise unassuming demeanor.
	A longer look suggests there may be more to this lad than first appears. He is wearing
olive green Dockers with a military style cloth black belt clasped by a simple steel buckle.
Black and white sneakers look fresh out of the box. His button-down white shirt is hardly visible
beneath the voluminous blue and white baseball jacket hes wearing, but the white tab collar still
pokes out a little at the top. A cap of matching colors is stuffed in one pocket.

Alfred Pennyworth quietly exits the room, having shown the WHIZ crew to the study with his usual
impeccable aplomb. As the oak door is gingerly shut, the subject of the day's interview glances
over a shoulder. Standing by the french windows overlooking the grounds, Bruce Wayne clasps his
hands behind his back. "Glad you think so, Billy. I hope Alfred got to show you around a
little..." he says, his voice amiable. He turns and moves to stand behind the chair facing the
bust of his father, resting his hands on the seatback. "Now, should I sit here, and you over
there?" He gestures vaguely to another large chair with armrests.

	Tall and broadshouldered, this man appears to be in the prime of his life. He has
well-managed short jet black hair and blue eyes, his eyebrows slightly arched. His features are
handsome in a classical fashion, with a strong jaw and defined cheekbones.
	The outfit he wears currently is best described as casual yet expensive. He has a simple
black turtleneck longsleeved shirt and a pair of loose fitting khaki pants. On his feet are a
pair of designer loafers and on his right wrist is an understated Rolex watch. He looks like he's
just walked out of an advertisement for a country club.
	His manner is best described as casual and easygoing. He typically sports a somewhat
bemused expression, growing only slightly more alert when in the company of an attractive member
of the opposite sex. His easy grace and air of aristocracy flash 'millionaire playboy' like a
neon sign.

Billy smiles a little. "Sure. That'll be fine. Guys?" The crewmen nod their approval, and Billy
scoots himself into the chair that is just a teensy bit too big for him. From out of his pocket
he takes a handheld tape recorder, setting it on the table. A portfolio follows, which he opens,
and there is a pen in his hand. A gesture from the crew, and the two of you are "ON." "This is
Fawcett on the road and I'm Billy Batson. Tonight my guest is Bruce Wayne, president of Wayne
Enterprises, a famous public figure not just in Gotham but around the world. First I want to
thank you, Mister Wayne, for agreeing to this interview."

Seating himself, Bruce rests a loose ankled leg over a knee, then clasps his hands together over
his lap. He smiles dimly across the carpeted floor towards the young radioman, then says "My
pleasure, Billy. And, please; call me Bruce." He smiles a pearly-toothed smile.

Batson nods and says, "All right. I ... I have to say up front that this is a unique interview
for me. I've talked to a lot of people for Whiz radio, but I've never had a guest who shared
something in common with me the way you do."

Bruce Wayne's brow crinkles a little. He knows the connection of which Billy speaks, but for the
moment, he maintains the slightly vacant expression of a none-too-sharp playboy. "How do you
mean?"

Billy gestures with one hand, which is perhaps testament to how cautious he is being since the
move is lost on radio. "Our parents were both killed when we were very young, Mister Wayne. Of
course, there's a lot of difference too. But if you don't mind I'd like to talk about that time,
and how you handled things. You know, if you remember."

Bruce Wayne shifts in his seat. Uncrossing his leg from over his knee, he switches legs, then
rests his hands on the armrests. "Oh, yes..." he says. "Well, you should know, Billy, in all
honesty, I don't remember very much of that period of time." He frowns pensively, lips pursed. "I
recall being afraid of course. And sad. But, I was lucky to have family friends looking after me.
They helped me deal with...deal with it very well. I was quite lucky."

The teenage boy nods. "You didn't stay here in Gotham, isn't that right? It took a long time
before you came back here, though the people of Gotham never forgot you. Can you tell us anything
about what it was like growing up while traveling the world?"

A faint smile returning to his lips, Bruce nods his head a few times. "Oh, yes. Well, it was an
adventure. Every day, every moment, there was something new to see, or do. Europe was just
amazing; all that history, the places of learning, the art. Africa, Asia, both totally different
from anything I'd imagined growing up here in Gotham." He bobs his dangling foot a little, then
adds "Of course, I had to return home after a while. I learned a lot about myself and the world,
but, nothing could keep me away from my obligations here."

"It must have been just amazing to get to see the world like that," Billy admits, "though I
suppose you would have gotten to see it all eventually anyway if, you know, things hadn't turned
out like they did." For a moment he is silent, remembering how he, too, could have been rich and
live in a big mansion. If his uncle hadn't taken all the money and thrown him out on the street.
But then with a shake of his head he tries to focus on the job. "Let's talk about those
obligations. What do you consider your obligations to be?"

Bruce Wayne nods, expecting this question. He leans back a little. "Well, my family has a long
history in this city. Going back to the 17th century, according to tradition. All of my ancestors
have had a stake in Gotham's development. Darius Wayne. Solomon Wayne. My father and mother." He
pauses, glancing briefly at the bust. He continues as he turns his attention back to Billy. "And,
of course, there was Wayne Enterprises to look after." He scratches his chin idly. "It had taken
a beating in the lean years, along with the rest of the city, and everyone was looking to a Wayne
to put it back on track. I can't say that I did, but, Lucius...Lucius Fox...he certainly turned
it around. And I did what I could to help." He smiles with a touch of irony. "Which mostly
consists of not getting in the way."

Billy Batson grins. "Well, in the process of 'not getting in the way' you've also become one of
the most recognizable men in America. I mean, outside of Hollywood, there's you and there's Bill
Gates and there's Lex Luthor. That's pretty distinguished company."

Chuckling in an airy sort of way, Bruce waves the comparison off. "Oh, I don't know about that. I
mean, I realize where I go, the media follows. Believe me, I know that. But, to put me in the
ranks of those two..." He drifts off, then shakes his head. "No, I'm not a Bill Gates. And I'm
certainly not a Luthor. I just happened to have the right connections and luck, you see. I can't
claim to have invented anything, or worked terribly hard to be where I am. And, if I may say so,
I hope I'm not quite as aggressive as Luthor. He has a habit of taking the whole corporate
competition thing a bit too seriously. I really sort of pity him." He pauses, then says "Ah, you
may want to edit that last bit out."

Billy Batson scoots up a little in the chair and shakes his head with renewed interest.  "No, no
I think that's very interesting. Not a lot of people would say they pitied a man as wealthy and
influential and, well, downright brilliant as Lex Luthor. Maybe you could explain a little more
about what you mean?"

Bruce Wayne adjusts his collar. "Mmn." His eyebrows arch upwards as he speaks his thoughts.
"Well, you've got a man who has all this wealth and power, and what's his goal with it all? Where
are those resources going? Really? I happen to think he just wants more of the same. That's been
my personal experience dealing with the man, anyways." He shrugs a shoulder. "A bit depressing if
you think about it. I'm more inclined to just enjoy what I have and use some of it to help out."

Billy Batson nods firmly, and says, "Now it's clear that family is very important to you ..." He
grins, and you know what's coming. "The young women of Fawcett all want to know what you're going
to do about the next generation of Waynes!"

Bruce Wayne blinks vaccuous eyes, then breaks into a crooked smile. "Oh, do they?" He slouches a
little. "I'm still waiting for the right time, to be honest. And the right lady, of course. I
don't know. I suppose I can understand the merits of raising a family and having a wife...I just
haven't really...ah...felt like dealing with it. I'm enjoying myself too much to think about it."

Billy Batson taps his notepad with the end of his pen for a minute, and says, "With the exception
of your personal tragedy as a youth, you do seem to have everything a man could want. I know my
listeners can't see this manor, but wow is it amazing! But it's just the tip of the iceberg, and
you've already talked about some of the other perks of your position. So ... what does Bruce
Wayne still want? When he skis the Alps and flies to Cannes and stalks the safari, what is it
that he's still looking for?"

Bruce Wayne folds his hands over his lap again. "Well, right now, I suppose I can't think of
anything terribly specific. There are a few business plans we're working on at Wayne Enterprises,
but I'd prefer not to divulge too much about them on the air. Personally, as far as long term
goals are concerned, I'd just like to see Gotham City safe, and my legacy in good hands. I can't
imagine anything much better than that."

Batson nods and looks to one of his crewmen. "Thanks again for giving us this interview, Mister
Wayne. This has been WHIZ radio on the road and I'm Billy Batson. We'll be in New York next week
but in the meantime, all you folks take care." He makes a nod to the techie, who flips a switch
and says, "In the can, Billy." Batson gives a thin smile and looks around thoughtfully.

Bruce Wayne stands, then extends a hand to the teenager. "Nicely done, Billy. You're growing into
a very accomplished journalist."

Billy Batson stands, too, and takes the compliment with humility. "That's awfully nice of you to
say, sir. I have to admit it was ... pretty wierd being in here. I used to sell newspapers on a
streetcorner, and sometimes I saw stories about you. About Gotham's favorite son racing in the
Formula One or dating some model. And I wished it was me." Realizing he's rambling, Billy slows
down and says, "I'm sorry. That probably came out all wrong."

Bruce Wayne crosses his arms. "No, I think I can understand. And, in fact, I think I can also say
that I'd feel much the same way about you if I'd heard about your life growing up myself. You've
taken what life dealt you and risen above it all. There's something very admirable in that, and
you shouldn't forget it."

His childish optimism getting the best of him at last, Billy opens up with a winning smile and
says, "I guess you're right, Mister Wayne. Well, we've taken up enough of your time." He looks
over and hooks a thumb at the guys. "I promised my fellas here we could get Monsterburgers. You
know, they don't have those in Fawcett."

Bruce Wayne hmms. "Listen, you sure you wouldn't want some of Alfred's trademark sandwiches
instead...?"

Billy puts this conundrum to serious thought, as if the future of the cosmos depended on it. But
then he shakes his head. "Naw. Sounds great to me, but the guys, they'd probably feel silly
eating sandwiches. You two ready?" Shouldering their load of equipment, one of the techies just
smiles and says, "Sure are."

Bruce Wayne nods. "Well, just do me a favor and don't tell him you turned the offer down. I'd
never hear the end of it. Hope you enjoy your time in the city."

Billy Batson points a finger and winks his eye in a teenage version of the 'let's do lunch'
gesture. "No problem Mister Wayne. I'll take a rain check!"