He's the Goddamn Batman

Paris screams like a banshee as she fires the rifle randomly in all directions.

Actually, she can't aim it even if she wanted; on full auto, the rifle's upward pull is too powerful for her own limited strength to overcome. So her fire would have been completely random in any event.

Unfortunately, Batman, who was on the roof of a nearby building and about to make an attempt to disarm the coked-out heiress, was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

For all of his strength and reflexes, for all of his years of experience and training, he's merely human. Unlike some of his comrades, he can't outrun a speeding bullet...or take one to to the face.

A couple of inches to either side would have been enough. Perhaps it's the whim of some malign trickster-god. Or, perhaps it's simply crappy writing. Whichever.

In any event, his character shields appear to be down for the duration.

The shot is literally one in a billion--Paris couldn't have made it if she'd actually tried. Instead of hitting to one side or another, where the bulletproof fabric of his mask might have protected him, the bullet slams squarely into his chin...and through it, to exit the back of his skull in a gory spray. Batman falls dead to the street below.

1. Prison for Paris. For real, this time.
2. Same as 1, but this time, she's a celebrity. She killed the goddamned Batman...
3. ..which means that she deprived Joker and about a hundred other people of the privilege of offing him themselves. Uh oh...
4. Superman arrives just in time to tear her head off her neck and punt it into orbit.
5. Mr. Mxyzptlk appears, and grants her a set of appropriate superpowers of her own. We're all dead-out fucked.

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