Martin returned to Los Angeles content and relaxed.
Wandering among the "collectibles" in his various residences, he settled back into a life of indulgence.
Time flew by, and before long, it was December.
"127 Hours" had surpassed $90 million at the North American box office and was on track to break $100 million. Overseas earnings had exceeded $65 million.
The film's financial report was impressive—yet another win for Martin.
As Christmas approached, so too did the release of The Dark Knight.
By this point, promotional material was everywhere. The studio had been steadily releasing behind-the-scenes clips every month, and footage featuring the "Joker" had proven to be the most popular by far.
Speculation ran wild about who was playing the Joker. Some claimed the production had cast a real mental patient. Others joked—or perhaps half-believed—that the actor was a serial killer in hiding. One viewer was so convinced they even called the police.
All of this served as a testament to how deeply Martin's performance had shaken the public.
It wasn't until November 8 that the studio finally revealed the true identity of the Joker—and the world went into an uproar.
"Oh my God, it's Martin!"
"Unbelievable. I didn't recognize him at all!"
"I had a hunch, but the Joker's skinny frame made me second-guess it. I underestimated Martin's dedication."
"That's what great acting is—when you see the character and forget the actor. Martin nailed it."
Since New Year's Day, The Dark Knight had been in promotion for eleven months. What began as a trickle had turned into a full-scale blitz. By the Christmas season, the film had become the most anticipated release of the year.
Then, one day, Martin received a call.
"Martin, we just got a fax from an organization called the Angel Make-A-Wish Foundation. They received a wish from a little boy named Miles and want our help fulfilling it.
He's a leukemia patient—diagnosed when he was only a year and a half old. And he's a huge Batman fan. His dream is to become Batman for a day, to do heroic things and defeat a 'big bad guy.' He says he wants to defeat the disease..."
Martin instantly understood the opportunity.
"Have someone investigate immediately," he said. "Verify that the foundation is legitimate and that the boy's condition is real. If it checks out—we'll make it happen."
"Hey babe, come here! You gotta see this—hurry!"
In an apartment on New York's Upper East Side, a young white man sat in his living room watching TV. He'd been idly flipping channels when he landed on NBC News, just as the station began a live broadcast.
The anchor was explaining the background of the story, and the man's curiosity grew.
He immediately called out to his girlfriend, Sally.
"For god's sake, Krich, I'm pooping! You'd better have a good reason or you're not sleeping in the bed tonight!"
Despite her grumbling, the young woman in her mid-twenties came to the living room, cursing under her breath—until she saw the look on her boyfriend's face and turned to the screen.
Her steps slowed, then stopped.
Without another word, they watched the broadcast.
What had captured their attention?
It was 8:45 on a Saturday morning.
The anchor's voice continued:
"His name is Miles Scott. He was diagnosed with leukemia at just one and a half years old.
He has lived with illness all his life.
But when he saw Batman on TV for the first time at the age of two, something changed. He found the courage to fight the pain.
'Batman doesn't have superpowers,' he said. 'But he can still beat the bad guys. I want to beat my sickness and become Batman so I can help others.'
His parents bought him Batman T-shirts, which he insisted on wearing every day.
Even during the most painful treatments, Miles would imagine himself as Batman—and smile through it."
"So, when the Angel Make-A-Wish Foundation—an organization that helps fulfill the dreams of critically ill children—visited Miles, he didn't hesitate to write down his wish: I want to be the real Batman."
"It was a simple dream, but not an easy one to realize."
The scene shifted to the Foundation's office. A staff member appeared on screen:
"At first, we were a little stumped. We thought maybe a small cosplay event, where Miles could dress as Batman, would be enough. But Patricia—the project lead—felt that wasn't what Miles wanted.
He didn't just want to look like Batman. He wanted to be Batman. The ideal scenario? Turn San Francisco into Gotham City and let him experience a real Batman adventure.
But it felt impossible to pull off."
"What Patricia didn't expect was that when she reached out to the Batman team, they said yes."
"Warner Bros., Meyers Pictures, and the Batman crew sprang into action. They provided funding, recruited volunteers, and even brought in professional actors. The city of San Francisco itself got involved—agreeing to cordon off parts of the city to bring the plan to life..."
"Today is Miles Scott's day—our little Batman."
"Everything is ready. Let's follow him as he saves Gotham City!"
"Holy shit, this is incredible!" Sally blurted out, finally breaking her silence.
"Unreal," Krich muttered, just as stunned.
In households across the country, people were turning on their TVs, having heard from friends and family that something extraordinary was about to unfold.
"We've cracked a 2.0 rating—and this is a morning news broadcast!"
Back at the CAA offices, Jeff Raymond hung up the phone and shouted excitedly to Martin, who was lounging on the sofa.
Drew, sitting nearby, grinned.
"Looks like the plan worked!"
Martin nodded, pointing to the TV mounted on the wall.
"Watch closely. This entire event was scripted by Jonathan Nolan himself. Let's see how it plays out."
In a cozy New York apartment, Christopher Nolan and his family sat watching the broadcast alongside Jonathan Nolan.
Jonathan smiled softly.
"I hope the kid likes his gift."