Bruce can't help but scoff as he reads the title aloud, newspaper ruffling noisily in his hands as he peels the inked pages open to the corresponding article. A full two page spread elaborating on the flamboyant front page title. The glass divider between his lavish back seat and the driver is already lowered, giving Alfred the chance to chime in as the black limousine ambles through the evening traffic.
"I glean from your tone that you aren't particularly taken with Ms. Chapman, Master Bruce?"
"I'm sure she's a lovely woman Alfred."
"Then shall I assume you've no need of a quick getaway from tonight's Gala?"
A sigh escapes the billionaire at the mention of their destination. Yet another charity function held by the social elite. Fancy suits, pompous music, overpriced food and a complete absence of substance or depth. The disapproval sees Bruce close the paper and toss it aside, prompting Alfred to continue:
"I know you've never been fond of these occasions, Master Bruce, but it's important for Wayne Enterprises that you're seen taking part."
"Mm."
Resting his elbow against the sill of the limousines tinted window, Bruce casually runs his thumb across his cheek, cupping his chin in thought.
"And more importantly, it gives me a chance to meet Ms Chapman face to face."
A cursory glance back to the crumpled paper lets Bruce study his targets silhouette. Beneath the flattering headline was a picture of the woman in question strutting up the steps to city hall. Given how she towered over the other citizens in the background she must be at least 6'6", even without the pair of black heels tasked with supporting her far beyond voluptuous, ebony frame. Squeezed into a casual maxi dress in matching black to the shoes, the design of the outfit deliberately holds nothing back. All that's left to the imagination about her massive silhouette are the possible tattoos or piercings that may be hidden beneath the near skintight silk. Tree trunk legs grow thicker and fatter the higher they reach, culminating in a pair of hips arguably thrice the width of Bruce's torso with the massive pair of asscheeks they frame straining the black dress to the brink of tearing open. Eleanor's abundant weight isn't only distributed to her more appealing assets however, though the rotund belly that sags down over her crotch is far harder to see from the picture in question. In the same vain the view of her massive bosom is limited only to a small window of silk-wrapped sideboob, though in fitting fashion for the huge Ms Chapman that alone would more than fill Bruce's hands. Long, wavy black hair cascades halfway down her back, with her broad shoulders and plump arms rounding out the rotund image.
"Are you certain that's a wise decision, Master Bruce? Ms Chapman has already managed to wrangle incredibly lucrative deals from many of Gotham's wealthiest. Perhaps you should do a little more research before confronting this woman?"
Alfred's questions never have the chance to be answered, left hanging in the air as the limousine pulls into the foot of the red carpet. Paparazzi line the aisle leading to the ballrooms grandiose entrance, the flashing of cameras and chattering interviewers dulling Bruce's awareness to his butlers concerns. Stepping out of the car and giving a practised wave and smile to the gathered media Bruce Wayne strides towards the hall.
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