There were these guys called The Boston Committee of Correspondence and the Massachusetts Committee of Safety who hired this guy named Paul Revere as an express rider to carry important shit to New York and Philly. On the night of April 18, 1775, this Dr. Joseph Warren guy calls Revere and tells him to haul ass to Lexington, MA, to tell Sam Adams and John Hancock that the British were on their way to bust them. Revere asks how the fuck Warren knows, and Warren tells him that the Red Coats had launched a bunch of small boats as they took the infantry and grenadiers off duty. Then Dr. Warren tells Revere to shut the fuck up and get moving.
His buddies had arranged a signal in the Old North Church where they’d hang one lantern if the Brits came by land and two lanterns if they came by sea. Well the Redcoats were coming both ways but they didn’t have a signal for that. Way to go, assholes. So Revere gets some guys to row him across the Charles River and goes to the home of his buddy, Deacon John Larkin. Most historians will tell you that Revere borrowed Larkin’s horse, but the truth is that Deacon Larkin kept the Batmobile in his stable. I don’t know, somehow it traveled time or whatever, but Larkin found it. Then Larkin briefs Revere on where the British check points are, but Revere tells him that he doesn’t care because he’s driving the fucking Batmobile. So Larkin says “Cool” and Revere does a wicked-hot peel out.
So Revere is doing like 125 down the road, and he’s yelling over the loud speaker “The British are coming, and not in the fun way!” Houses light up as he blows past them. He pulls up in front of the house where Adams and Hancock are staying. They come out and can’t believe what they see.
“Yo Revere! What the fuck is that thing?” Hancock says.
“What the fuck does it look like? It’s the mother fuckin’ Batmobile” Revere says. Then an argument breaks out over who should get the Batmobile from here on out. Revere thinks he should keep it because he needs to haul ass to Concord to warn the militia, but Hancock and Adams insist that they should drive it because they’re more important. Finally Revere agrees to give them the Batmobile for a keg a week of Adam’s wicked beer for the rest of his life. A fair trade? I think so. As this is goin’ on a second rider, William Dawes shows up. Revere gets a horse and rides off with Dawes towards Concord. As they ride down the road they’re joined by a third rider, Dr. Samuel Prescott. However they don’t get too far before they run into a British patrol and get arrested. That’s what happens when you blow off a mission briefing, but I digress.
Dr. Prescott escapes right off the bat by using the old “Your shoe lace is untied” trick, and rides off to Concord. In the confusion Dawes escapes too, but Revere stands there like a fucking dumbass. So the British start questioning him, and Revere tells them everything like a big pussy. The British officer wasn’t buying it so he pulls out his pistol, and puts the muzzle to Revere’s skull. Then for some reason he asks if Revere is the same dude who does the quality metal work and Revere says he is.
“Well Christ, Revere, my wife has all of your stuff. She fucking loves the silver tea set your people made. Look, get back on that horse and go home, I’d hate to have to shoot you.” So Revere gets escorted a few miles back towards Lexington before the Brits screw him by taking his horse. So Revere walks back to Lexington were he finds Adams and Hancock about a mile from where they’d started.
“What the fuck? You two gonads should be in Philly by now” Revere said. He was pissed.
“Hey, give us a break, ass-clown, it’s 1775 so we don’t know how to fucking drive yet” Hancock said.
“Okay, fuck it, I’ll drive. Move over.” Revere said. He got behind the wheel. About four minutes later they were at a house in Woburn four miles away. Now that they were safe, Revere hauled ass back to the Clark house to find out what the fuck was going on. When he gets there two riders show up and tell him that British soldiers are almost there. So Revere runs inside and grabs a trunk full of Hancock’s papers, drags it outside, and puts it into the trunk of the Batmobile. Just as he closes the trunk the British show up. Revere gets into the Batmobile and locks the door. The British soldiers form a skirmish line in front of the car, and the officer orders Revere to surrender. Revere flips them the bird. The troops open fire but the musket balls bounce off the car’s armor plating. Revere gets on the loud speaker and tells the Brits that they can lick his hairy ball sack. The Soldiers fire another volley, and Revere just laughs. Suddenly the car roars to life as Revere floors it in reverse, then he hangs a perfect bootleg turn, and he’s fuckin’ outa there.
I don’t know what happened to the Batmobile after that. One rumor says that the British captured it, and took it back to the Tower of London where it was kept up until 1870 when Queen Victoria crashed it into the palace wall while testing the air bag system. The other says that it was given to George Washington after the war, and on his death he willed it to be kept in the basement of the White House. Supposedly every President has driven the Batmobile at least once. That makes more sense, with great power comes an awesome car.
Ben Franklin said that.