Everyone always laughs at me, whenever I say that.

It's the God's honest truth, however: I genuinely adore this character; so marvelously representative of the amiably bug-eyed stuff DC Comics all but specialized in, back around the same general period during which people still thought special commemorative Bicentennial dinner plates were a pretty darned nifty idea, all things being equal.

Actually, DC Comics was a fairly schizophrenic company, during said storytelling epoch; made up of equal parts Big, Status-y "Pushing-the-

Edge-of-the-Envelope"-style projects (the Len Wein/Berni Wrightson SWAMP THING and the Dennis O'Neil/Mike Kalutta THE SHADOW, just a few years prior; followed by the Archie Goodwin/Walt Simonson MANHUNTER, the O'Neil/Howard Chaykin SWORDS OF SORCERY; etc., etc.) and unabashed -- and meticulously crafted -- four-color juvenilia. (Jack Kirby's KAMANDI; the Cary Bates/Curt Swan SUPERMAN; the Bates/Irv Novick FLASH; the Gerry Conway/Dick Dillin JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA; and yadda yadda yadda.) Sort of a freakish homonculoid meta-fictive crossbreed between C.C. Beck and Hunter S. Thompson, kinda.

Author (and long-time DC "Answer Man") Bob Rozakis was most assuredly a resident of the "Funsville" part o' town.

"Resident"...?

Heck: he was practically the mayor.

"The Joker's Daughter" [BATMAN FAMILY #6; August, 1976; Bob Rozakis, writer; Irv Novick, artist] opens with the reading of mystery novelist (and Hudson University alumnus) Christine Ariadne's last will and testament, before an audience comprised of both live spectators and television onlookers; including (in the former camp) college attendee "Dick Grayson" -- a.k.a. Robin.

"As the executor of Mrs. Ariadne's will," a nattily-dressed newsman explains, gesturing towards a locked oaken door; "... I shall read the paragraph relating to the opening of this sealed room!"

" '...on the 13th day following my death' ," (so sayeth the paragraph in question); " ' ... the sealed room shall be opened, and there for all the world to see will be the greatest mystery of my career. I am sure it will intrigue my readers everywhere as being a puzzle worthy of being the last case of Ulysses Pylate!' "

With no little amount of fanfare accompanying, the seals on the door are jimmied and wrenched aside; with Ms. Ariadne's executor noting to the wide-eyed onlookers that: "As soon as the room is opened, the manuscript will be rushed to Metropolis... where Galaxy Books, Mrs. Ariadne's publisher, will print it for immediate distribution!"

Okay, now: guess what's not sitting where it should be in said vault, once the door to same has been swung wide...?

"The room is -- empty!" gasps one startled onlooker.

"The manuscript -- gone!" husks another, dumbfounded.

"-- stolen!" wails yet a third. (Apparently, the crowd in attendence included within its polyglottal ranks an actual, working "Greek chorus." (Either that, or else noted feathered wisequackers Huey, Dewie and Louie.)

A slender, purple-clad figure swings its shapely way into the room; announcing itself to be nothing less than "-- the Joker's DAUGHTER!"

Making the standard "I-gotta-go-get-help" apologies to long-suffering college girlfriend Lori Elton, Grayson slips away; effects a quickie costume change; and returns, mere instants later, as the fabled "Boy Wonder."

There is a desultory, inconclusive skirmish of sorts betwixt harlequin and hero -- scarcely even a scuffle, really -- during which JD (I'll be abbreviating the name from here on out; otherwise, we'll be here well into the new millennium) makes cryptic reference to her putative sire.

("My Daddy always told me smoking was bad for my health," she titters, whipping out a "trick" combat bubble pipe.

(I'm terribly sorry. That should have read: " 'trick' combat bubble pipe."

(Lookit: I can only work with what they give me here, f'chrissakes.)

"I thought her act was a publicity stunt," a flabbergasted Boy Wonder muses, as the colorful cutpurse makes good her getaway. "But she sure has some real Joker gimmicks!" Which -- given that the "gimmick" in question is an oversized powder puff -- tells us rather more concerning the personal inclinations of the Darknight Detective's chiefest nemesis than might be considered either necessary or desirable, really. Especially given the fact that the latter is already infamous for flouncing about Gotham City, giggling like a grade school vixen on the make and sporting more facial make-up than Fran Drescher at a Mary Kaye mixer.

I'm just sayin', really. That's all.

"That crazy broad swiped Christine Ariadne's manuscript, Chief" Robin informs Hudson U's head of security, with that world-renowned sensitivity towards gender issues that has long been his patented personal trademark.

"Stolen from this sealed room?" the law officer responds, incredulous. "That makes it a locked room mystery only a Ulysses Pylate could solve!"

JOKER'S DAUGHTER TO RETURN STOLEN ARIADNE MANUSCRIPT, the headline of The Hudson Herald blares, the following morning. "Sets Rendezvous With Robin For Midnight."

"In a bizarre turn of events" (the accompanying story helpfully provides) "the self-confessed thief calling herself the Joker's Daughter has offered to return the Christine Ariadne manuscript she allegedly stole earlier today. Demanding to be met by Robin alone at a secret location, she gave no reason for her actions."

"Robin" a detective assigned to the case inquires, at one point; "... you've battled the real Joker. Do you buy her being his daughter?"

"I don't buy... or sell her short, Lt. Tatem," Robin responds, struggling manfully to master the essentials of that whole elusive "snappy crimefighter repartee" business. "She's certainly acting as crazy as he does!"

"Crazy," as it turns out, is painting things in rather the most charitable strokes imaginable; as the Clown Princess of Cross-Dressing informs a frankly disbelieving Robin, upon their pre-arranged follow-up confrontation, that: "I've brought exactly what I stole -- NOTHING! HAHAHAHA!"

More clues as to JD's actual parentage are dangled, tantalizingly, before Robin (and the reader) during the inevitable Round Two set-to. ("I don't think Daddy would want us holding hands," the comely con artist chortles. "And I doubt he'd approve of my getting close enough to kiss you...!")

(... and it's well worth noting, at this point in the storytelling proceedings, that all of the foregoing -- as well as later hints and asides, provided during future tete-a-tetes -- actually are in the way of for-real, gen-you-whine forty karat clues, here. The "Joker's Daughter" mystery -- lasting, as it did, over several successive issues of BATMAN FAMILY -- was an honest "fair play" mystery on the part of the estimable Mr. Rozakis. A nice "touch," that; and showing a considerably higher level of craftsmanship -- to say nothing of good, old-fashioned respect for one's chosen readership -- than is often evinced by many the "hot" comics scribe of the present day, I hasten to add. I hereby award the gentleman the "Mike [MAZE AGENCY] Barr Memorial Award," for cluesmithing above and beyond the call of duty.)

JD manages to give a much-chagrined Robin the proverbial "slip," once again...

... but: not before leaving the Shorty-Pants Sleuth with a mocking revelation, re: her real goal in all of this.

"Something to remember me by, dear Robin," the frightful fetish cackles with electronic glee. "A reminder that while you're trying to find out who I am... I'm going to be tracking down your identity!"

(Incidentally: it turns out that the Mascara'd Mountebank was being 110% truthful, whilst claiming that she'd never filched the massing Ariadne manuscript. As the Batman's youthful protege informs us, at the story's end:

("There was absolutely no way anybody could have gotten into that sealed room...no possible way the manuscript could have been removed! Which obviously means -- it was never there in the first place! The way I figure it, Mrs. Ariadne couldn't bear to kill off her favorite creation, Ulysses Pylate! She cleverly gave the impression she wrote that last novel... but never did! The 'greatest mystery' mentioned in her will was this -- discovering there WAS NO MANUSCRIPT!"

(In other words: JD figured out the whys and the wherefores of a classically constructed "locked room" mystery... before Mr. "I-Hang-Out- With-the-Bat-By-Golly" managed to do so. And figured out how to best use said knowledge, in turn, in order to set her own long-range machinations in malevolent motion. Up yours, Talia al Guhl. You ain't all that, Miss Thing.)

The plot thickens and quickens in "The CopyCatgirl Crimes" [BATMAN FAMILY #8; December, 1976; Bob Rozakis, writer; Irv Novick, artist], when Dick Grayson's "Chemistry 101" class is disrupted by the sudden appearance of...

... the Catwoman's daughter!

Stopping by only long enough to effect some low-grade catastrophe by means of the instructor's chemical catalysts, the self-styled "Catgirl" appears interested only in drawing attention to her presence thereabouts. (A mission readily enough accomplished, certainly, given the parallel presence of a certain Boy Wonder in the immediate vicinity).

Once again, Hudson University's resident security chief (and wildly overprotective uncle of Dick Grayson's main collegiate squeeze, Lori) Frank McDonald arrives long after the super-villainous dust has all but settled; playing perpetually befuddled "straight man" to DC's ace Teen Tornado.

"First, the Joker's Daughter," McDonald splutters; "... and now a Catwoman rip-off! What's going on around here?"

It's a question, certainly, much on the mind of at least one other well-known resident of the DC universe.

"Rubbish!" an all-but-apoplectic Catwoman shrills, before her shellshocked henchmen. "If I catch that little snip -- !"

(This reaction, quite frankly -- the freakin' Catwoman, mind; rearing back like the hissing, affronted exemplar of Sexual Propriety, outraged -- intrigued me sufficiently to take a qquick polling on the matter, re: the lady's fellow Arkham Asylum alumni. Their responses -- unedited; and shocking in their nakedd candor -- are reproduced below, as follows:

("Are you gloody kidding me, here? You don't 'zactly gotta be Moses to get those knees parted, guddy-goy!" -- "Boss" Scarface

("How the @#$% d'ya think I ended up with this @#$%ing skin rash, mother@#$%er?" -- Killer Croc

(" 'Had' her." -- Poison Ivy

(" 'Had' her. Twice." -- Two-Face

("Huh? The Catwoman puts out -- ?!?" -- super-criminal and noted semi-professional virgin, Killer Moth)

Anyhoo: acting on an inexplicable intuition of sorts (e.g.: "Have a hunch Catgirl's next target is here! CATV is a natural for a CAT-caper!"), Robin stakes out the university's "community access television station...

... and hits four-color paydirt, as the felonious femme drops down from above!

"I pulled my punches with the Joker's daughter," a resolute Robin avers, advancing cautiously. "And she got away! You won't have that advantage, Catgirl!"

T'would appear, however, that -- in this instance, at least; in the time-honored tradition of preppy little rich kids the whole, wide world over -- the Boy Wonder's mouth has written a check that neither his body nor his mentor's tres formidable reputation can adequately cash. The Feline Filch easily bamboozzles Our Hero into lunging, pell-mell, straightaway into a gigantic "cat's cradle"; there to leave him, all a-dangle and mortified.

"I'm dying to unmask you, Robin," she husks seductively, whilst quitting the field of battle. "But you're so tangled that I'd probably get caught in there with you... and then you'd be able to unmask me!"

(For those of you keeping score, at home: that now makes for a grand total of two devious, costume- and M.O.-snatching women; both claiming to be the larcenous offspring of established members of the Batman's rogues gallery... and both, in turn, fairly obsessed with the uncovering of Robin's "secret identity." Hmmmmm... )

An unexpected phone call from The Big Bat-Kahuna, his own bad self, serves nicely to underscore the growing seriousness of the situation at hand.

"I hear you've got a Catgirl giving you a hard time," the silhouetted figure on the other end of the line rasps, chillingly. "Need any advice... help?"

[LITTLE-KNOWN COMICS "FUN FACT": Your Indiana Jones-like Unca Cheeks has only just recently -- oh, I have my little "ways," I do; you'd be amazed at how appallingly lax the security is, over at Stately Rozakis Manor. Bump off eighteen or twenty trained mastiffs, and circumvent the hidden claymore mines; and you're talkin' cakewalk, bay-beee -- come across the original typewritten manuscript for this very tale!

[In the interest of painstaking historical verisimilitude, solely: I offer the readership -- for the first time, anywhere! -- the original dialogue scripted for the Batman, in the aformentioned scene. To wit:

["So, then: I hear you're wrasslin' with some of that fine, shapely young stuff lately, Dickie-Boy. Need any advice... help? PLEASE? For God's sake, kid -- I can't keep gettin' my grim, manly, vigilante jollies 'accidentally' getting pinned down by the freakin' Riddler, awright? I... (struggling to repress the desperate, pleading tone in his voice) ... I've got needs, dammit! I CAN'T KEEP HOT OIL WRESTLING ALFRED NEKKID ANYMORE! He's old; he's wrinkled! It's like trying to get off with Babar the Elephant, f'chrissakes! Plus: I think the rest of the JLA is getting a little suspicious about that whole 'missing' Wendy, Marvin and WonderDog business! YOU WERE THERE TOO, YOU LITTLE PUNK @#$%! I'M NOT TAKIN' THE FALL FOR THAT ONE ALL BY MYSELF! Oh, God... help me! HELLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEEE -- !"

[Intriguingly enough: there is a blue penciled notation in the left-hand margin of said script, at this juncture; said jotting being in the fine, meticulous hand of noted DC Comics editor Julius Schwartz. It reads, simply: "Bob... we've talked about this before, all right? You have to keep taking the medication. I don't give a (expletive deleted) what 'the voices' keep telling you! There's no room in this man's comics industry for godless, gibbering freaks, mister! P.S. -- thanks again for the swell ankle-strap wedgies! Love ya, ya big, frilly, accessorizing galoot! XOXOXOXOXO!"

[...]

[...]

[... as God is my witness: I honestly don't know why I do stuff like that.]

In any event: there's a startled "Who -- what -- ?!?" on the Gotham side of the phone line --

... and: the Batman... is gone.

A frantic Robin dashes out towards the New Carthage airfield, the better to reach his vanished partner's side, in Gotham; and is confronted, yet again, by the mocking and insouciant Catgirl.

"Don't rush me, Robin!" the lady counsels, backpedaling cautiously from Robin's resolute approach. "Your father never rushed my mother!"

It's an interesting approach to the whole hero/villainess dynamic, admittedly -- this "why, we're practically sibliings, really" business -- but: the long-time leader of the Teen Titans is nothing if not the uncannily focused sort, ultimately. A quick pair of "Bat-cuffs" later: it's the Catgirl's turn to dangle slowly, slowly in the wind, whilst an increasingly frazzled Boy Wonder charters the next available private plane and zooms his worried way towards The Old Homestead.

Once there: several frustratingly fruitless evenings later, Robin is no closer to unraveling the vexatious riddle of his partner's (putative) abduction than he was forty-eight hours earlier.

"From the phone conversation" the Boy Wonder explains to an equally fretful Alfred; "... I couldn't tell which guise he was in when it happened... I don't know whether I'm looking for Bruce Wayne... or Batman!"

(Call me krazynuttykookoo, if you wanna... but: he finds one of 'em... he finds both, is the way I'm figurin' it. Not that I'm, like, a big-deal teen detective, or nothin'. Just sayin'; that's all.)

There's simply no gainsaying a woman in tights and a mask, however (a bit of hard-won wisdom, that; courtesy of Unca Cheeks' own carefree, madcap college dorm days); and Robin finds his one-man Bat-hunt being shifted to the situational off-ramp as Catgirl embarks on her most audacious and ambitious crime spree yet:

Stealing old CATsup bottles from a local diner.

(You know... as potential contenders go, in the "criminal mastermind" Daytona 500: this woman juuusssst loses pole position to the Bug-Eyed Bandit; the Human Flying Fish; and the Ten-Eyed Man.)

With schemes as far-reaching and grandiose such as these an integral part of her overall super-criminal dynamic, it's no wonder that the Catgirl (inevitably) finds herself being sucked into the undertow of one of the Catwoman's murderous Gotham machinations...

... with a now-thoroughly- confused Robin, the Boy Wonder gulping metaphorical salt water right alongside her.

This is, of a certainty, the second most bewildering revelation to smack Robin upside the head, during all of the foregoing.

Finding out that "Catgirl" and "the Joker's Daughter" are -- in plain point of fact -- one and the same costumed nutcase, on the other hand...

... well: there are epiphanies... and then there are epiphanies, y'know?

A manifestly thunderstruck Boy Wonder is just rattled enough by this sudden and unwelcome knowledge -- coupled, unfortunately, with the arrival on the scene of the long-missing Batman (who'd assumed a wholly new underworld identity, in order to being the now-nabbed Catwoman to justice) -- to (uncharacteristically, perhaps) allow a quick-witted JD to make good her rapid escape...

... leaving Our Litle Robin to wonder, by way of coda: "Who was that masked woman...?"

A fair question, that; and one we'll most assuredly be pondering anew, alongside such sleuthing stalwarts as Robin AND the "Silver Age" Batgirl...

... right here, next week. Same Cheeks Time; same Cheeks Channel.

The Joker's Daughter: PAGE TWO
The Joker's Daughter: PAGE THREE