Shawn Bowers: The Website

Batman had him backed into a pretty tight corner, but the Riddler, being the Riddler, always had a Plan B.

“Alright, Batman. Listen up. If you can’t solve this riddle, I’ll detonate that entire steam train full of women!”

Batman said nothing in a really menacing way, but he also looked thoughtful. Like real “brain-working” thoughtful.

“Riddle me this,” the Riddler said with a cackle. “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

Batman let it sit for a moment.

“Ummm…hm. Okay,” he said, coughing a little. “Excuse me. Hang on. Why did the…chicken? Cross the road? Hurm. Uhhhh…no, hang on. Was his brother on the other side? Wait wait wait, no no no, don’t blow it up, that’s not my real answer. Guhhh, think! You got this, Batman. Chicken. Road. Chickenroadddd…that didn’t work. Can I use scrap paper? I’m going to use scrap paper, that’s not cheating. Okay, there’s a chicken and…a…road. Draw the line across there…chicken’s over there…hm. Jesus, what the hell is this riddle? This thing is a doozy! Can I ask questions? Okay, no, I can do this. The chicken technically shouldn’t be by a road because it’s a coop bird, which means someone…left it? But why is it crossing? Is that philosophical? Is the chicken dead and you mean it’s crossing into the afterlife? That’s probably too morbid. Ugh! This riddle! Ummm…okay, I’m going to go with…uh…”

Batman bit his thumb and squinched his eyebrows.

“The chicken was…getting lunch?”

Two hundred and fourteen women were found dead next to a bunch of burning hot steel train scraps later that morning.