In the pulsating heart of Times Square, New York, a crisp December chill hung in the air, doing little to dampen the fervor of the thronging movie enthusiasts. A kaleidoscope of lights dazzled under the evening sky as thousands converged in front of a sprawling shopping mall, their breaths misting in the cold.
Today marked a momentous occasion: the official release of "The Dark Knight" DVD.
The square, alive with energy, was a carnival of colors. Over twenty street artists had set up along the fringes, their brushes dancing swiftly across eager faces, transforming them into myriad versions of the iconic clown from the movie. Soon, a sea of painted faces bobbed through Times Square, a testament to the film's allure.
Nearby, the mall loomed, still shuttered, its anticipation palpable. Inside its lounge, Martin flexed his wrists, a prelude to the day's event. Beside him, Bruce and Thomas huddled, their attention riveted on a phone's calculator.
"The Dark Knight" had exceeded all expectations in North America, and Martin's cut from the film's earnings was the topic du jour. According to his contract, a sliding scale of bonuses would significantly boost his initial $5 million salary based on the box office takings. Warner Bros. and DC Comics had hoped for around $300 million, but the film had soared to an astonishing $616 million.
Thomas, eyes wide with disbelief, turned to Martin, "You're looking at a total share of around $26.96 million!"
Martin's heart skipped a beat. "Is that figure accurate?"
Thomas sheepishly ran a hand through his hair. "Math was never my forte. I've forgotten most of it," he confessed, glancing at Bruce. "Hey, Bruce, can you crunch these numbers?"
Bruce, quick to demur, chuckled, "Martin, you're the whiz at this stuff, not me."
Martin, ever the pragmatist, stood up, "Let's not dwell on it. The mall's opening, and I've got a signing to get to." Deep down, he knew, regardless of the exact figure, his earnings would be monumental.
Outside, a special area had been cordoned off for the eagerly waiting fans. Two serpentine queues of clowns stretched into the distance. Nearby, a minibus rolled to a stop.
Inside, the heater fought against the chill, but the dozen girls clad in thin clothes shivered nonetheless. Their bodies trembled, but their spirits burned with determination.
Toni, their charismatic leader, shed her coat to reveal a stunning, custom-made white wedding dress. Her eyes sparkled with resolve as she addressed her companions, "Sisters, our moment has come."
Aisha distributed a stack of cards among them, each a potential ticket to connect with Martin.
One girl, her features plain compared to the radiant Toni, voiced a concern, "We should share this opportunity, right? No one gets left out."
Toni nodded firmly, "United we stand, sisters!"
In unison, they chanted, "United!"
With a commanding gesture, Toni signaled the driver. The minibus doors swung open, and like a wave of determined brides, they stepped out into the chilly night.
Led by Toni, their voices rose in a fervent chant that cut through the cold air, "I love Martin! I love Martin!" Their march towards the mall was more than just a fanfare; it was a statement of unity and adoration.
In this tableau of excitement and anticipation, Times Square was more than a location; it was the stage for a night where dreams and reality danced hand in hand.
Countless eyes swiveled, mesmerized by the spectacle unfolding in Times Square. As the girls, led by Toni and Aisha, queued up, their chants of adoration ignited a response from the surrounding crowd. Like a wave of enthusiasm, thousands of clowns joined in, their voices uniting in a loud chorus: "I love Martin! I love Martin!"
This fervor wasn't confined to New York. Toni and Aisha, who had followed their idol from Los Angeles to this pulsing heart of the city, felt a surge of satisfaction. They were, once again, the cynosure of all eyes.
Media reporters, sensing a captivating story, swarmed around them. Elsa, her eyes sparkling with excitement, declared to the cameras, "Of course I love Martin! How much? Enough to marry him!" She twirled, showing off her wedding dress, a vision of devotion.
Another girl, eager for her moment in the spotlight, jumped in front of the camera. "I love Martin so much, I want to have his child!" she exclaimed.
The scene shifted suddenly as several individuals dressed as Batman joined the queue. The crowd's attention was diverted from the bridal spectacle to these new arrivals, a symbol of the film's impact.
The Batmans felt the weight of all those eyes on them. One wiped away nervous sweat, suggesting, "Maybe we should try other stores?" Quickly, they all agreed, keen to escape the intense fervor of the fans.
On the outskirts of the square, a bearded man and Victor observed the scene with a mix of awe and disbelief. "These groupies are insane!" the bearded man exclaimed.
Victor, listening to the continuous chants for Martin, nodded. "And they say we're the crazy ones?" he mused.
The bearded man pondered aloud, "What if we took out Martin right here? Would they tear us apart?"
Victor, lighting a cigarette, shrugged. "Who knows? But one thing's for sure, being a celebrity isn't easy. Martin's constantly on the move, city to city, never resting. Is it really worth it?"
The bearded man smirked. "Well, making millions must have its perks."
Victor looked pensive. "Our boss is already in New York. But tracking Martin is tough with his hectic schedule. We need a solid plan, not just for the hit, but for a clean getaway too."
The bearded man, ever the pragmatist, suggested, "Just do it."
Victor exhaled a cloud of smoke, "We're here for revenge, not suicide. We need to know his movements and plan accordingly."
The bearded man shrugged off Victor's concerns. "You worry too much."
Victor, phone in hand, received an update: Martin was scheduled to return to California after two events in New York.
After a brief conversation, Victor relayed, "We'll head back to California and start our work there."
Ending the call, he muttered, "Let's grab a plane ticket back to the West Coast."
Meanwhile, inside the mall's video store, Martin was a flurry of activity, signing DVDs with a gracious "Thank you for your support" to each fan. Unperturbed by the flashbulbs, he maintained his composure until a commotion at the entrance caught his attention.
A dozen girls in wedding dresses entered, waving enthusiastically at Martin. Accustomed to the unusual, Martin observed the scene, a hint of bewilderment in his eyes. What new twist was this in an already extraordinary day?
As Martin accepted a DVD from an eagerly waiting fan, his signature flowed effortlessly across its surface. With a warm smile, he offered his gratitude, "Thank you for your support."
The fan, adorned in a Joker costume, leaned in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Martin, there's quite a stir outside. They're all clamoring to marry you."
Acknowledging with a nod and a gracious smile, Martin responded, "Thank you for letting me know."
The fan, satisfied with this exchange, departed with a contented air.
Shortly after, Toni approached, clutching a commemorative version of the CD in her trembling hands. Martin, noticing her excitement, took the CD and thanked her, his smile genuine.
"Could I possibly take a photo with you?" Toni's voice quivered with anticipation.
Martin leaned in, his voice low and apologetic, "I'm sorry, the organizers have set strict rules against it."
Toni, understanding yet visibly disappointed, nodded. "I get it! Once you start taking photos, it never ends, right?"
As Martin signed her CD, he chuckled, "Exactly. Long live understanding."
Toni, touched by Martin's kindness and explanation, felt a deeper admiration for him. Handing over the CD, she slipped a card into his hand. "You can call this number anytime," she whispered, her heart racing.
She quickly turned, flashing a heart sign at Elsa, who captured the moment with a photo.
Toni, her mission accomplished, scampered off in her wedding dress.
Aisha, passing back the camera, playfully blew a kiss towards Martin as her friends snapped photos. Martin, caught between amusement and helplessness, could only watch as the impromptu photo session unfolded around him.
As he signed another fan's item, a bold voice cut through the air. "Martin, will you marry me?" The store erupted in murmurs and gasps.
Toni, spinning around, identified the source - it was Kerin, the most outspoken of her group! Internally, she resolved to address this breach of their sisterhood's code.
Despite declining photo requests, Martin found himself inundated with cards and notes, some even daringly including measurements. Female fans, some in Joker makeup, left phone numbers scrawled in lip gloss or eyeliner.
Male fans too left their contact details, each hoping for a moment of connection with the star.
Observing a male fan's hasty retreat, Martin felt a fleeting urge to abandon the signing, but his professionalism prevailed, and he continued without a change in expression.
As the store quieted down, Bruce began gathering Martin's belongings. "Should I keep these notes and cards for you?" he asked.
"Just put them away for now," Martin replied casually.
Bruce's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Are you really considering...?"
Martin cut him off, "No, take them to the shredder. I don't want anyone using my name for deceit."
Bruce nodded, understanding the caution, "Good thinking."
However, he couldn't resist teasing a little more, "But those fans in wedding dresses were quite stunning. Aren't you tempted?"
Martin began confidently, "I don't entertain such ideas," but his resolve wavered as he thought of Blake Lively.
Collecting all the notes and cards, Bruce made a final check of the autograph table, ensuring nothing was overlooked.
"Let's go," Martin called out as they headed to the office area. There, they borrowed the mall's paper shredder to dispose of the notes and cards.
Martin's schedule was tight. Another signing awaited him in Long Island that afternoon before his return to Los Angeles, where a Cartier men's watch advertisement shoot was on the horizon.