Anthony Robin's heart was pounding faster than a hummingbird's. His palms shook, his breathing almost stopped. His face was covered in a thick layer of sweat, and his stomach threatened to push out his lunch at the last minute.
They were right there, in all their glory.
Anthony took in a deep breath. He figured that if he had enough bravery to fight Gotham's greatest villains, including The Joker, he had enough courage to ask Emma Block out.

Anthony looked down at the dark blue floors and dragged himself over to Emma. "Hi, Emma..." Anthony muttered under his breath, making circles in the ground with the front of his shoe.
"Your name's Tony, right?" Marty grunted to Anthony, inhaling deep on a cig, as every breath that came out of his mouth was stained with smoke and crap-stained teeth.
"I prefer 'Anthony'..." Anthony muttered back, crinkling his nose from Marty's breath. His eyes shifting to Emma's long, curly brown hair.
"Good. Cuz you're a nerd, and I need someone to do my homework while I go to the Linkin Park concert tonight." Greg yelled, slapping Anthony on the back and shoving his Algebra book into Anthony's weak arms.
"Whatever..." the nerd muttered back, but still looking at Emma.

"Hey...um...Emma...well, my mom's letting me take the car this weekend..." Emma blinked, half paying attention to what Anthony had to say, half wondering if she should buy more mini-skirts or something at Abercrombie.
"...and...well...maybe you and I could...ya know...catch a movie..." Anthony muttered, his eyes begging to Emma's beautiful, green eyes that she would say 'Yes'.

Emma started to laugh. "Me, going out with a loser?" The whole group started to laugh while Anthony looked horrified.

Emma's hair was changing from chocolate brown to leaf green, getting messier and messier as the colors invaded her hair. Her face turned almost pure white, but with cheeks and lips, the same color of all the people that The Joker had killed. Blood-red.
Emma's alto laugh started getting higher and higher...soon getting a little bit like a clown's.
"Stop laughing..." Anthony growled, but no one listened.
"Rob-Bin!" called an oh-too-familiar voice for Anthony. "Why So Serious, Robin?" Anthony shivered. "Let's have a great, big, smile upon that face!" It screamed, so deep, and so scratchy, it almost sounded as if The Joker was eating nails while he taunted Batman's sidekick.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Anthony screeched, throwing the text book with all his might.

Emma yelped in pain, falling onto the floor and clutching her wounded eye. The left corner of Greg's algebra book was covered in blood, slowly running down the pages of the book.
Anthony just stood there, barely remembering why he threw the book in the first place.
Marty turned to the panting boy, fury in his big, blue eyes. "I'm gonna kill ya, you sonofabitch!"

Knowing that fighting back would've resulted in being more injured than being shot down, Anthony took off.
"No sonofabitch is gonna make a fool outta Emma Block!" Greg screamed, chucking the text book at Anthony, hitting the top of his head.

Anthony fell to the ground, yet scrabbled up as fast as he could. Too late.

Marty held up up by his surfer-dude hair. "Whaddya think we should do to this bastard, Greg?" Marty shouted, his fingerless gloves feeling the oily, greasy texture of Anthony's hair.
"Hey, wouldn't it be funny if we bound and gagged him in the janitor's closet?" Greg chuckled while punching Anthony in the ribs.
"I refuse!" Anthony screamed, struggling under the Neanderthal's hand. "Shaddup." Marty whispered, tying his mouth with a bandanna.
Against his will, Marty and Greg dragged him by the ankles to the dank janitor's closet. Using his shoelaces from his Nikes, he bounded Anthony's arms so tightly, a red mark would still be on there for days.
"Hey, wouldn't it be funny if Batman found him like this?"
"Ho yeah, that'd be SO freakin' funny! But, Batman would probably find him dead...who knows how long this loser will be in this closet for?"

Anthony grunted under the bandanna. With a few extra WHACKS, Marty slammed the textbook against Anthony's head until he was almost unconscious. And to add insult to injury, the two thugs made an immature, yet accurate impression of The Joker and slammed the janitor's door shut.

***

Anthony's gray eyes opened quickly, screaming as he woke up. He realized that the 'attempted murder from Scarecrow' was actually just his face slipped into the mop bucket. He moaned slowly and tried to get the floor taste out of his mouth.
"Great. Now my glasses are wet." he muttered, trying to wipe off the water as best as he could, but he shivered from the coldness of the water and the cold air of late February.
As he tried to wipe off his black, rectangular glasses off of all the grimy, freezing water the best he could, he wondered how long he had been stuck in the janitor's closet.
"Why the hell didn't anyone notice that I'm gone?" Anthony wondered out loud, shaking the water out of his greasy, black, surfer-dude hair. Of course, it just sounded like random muffling and gibberish. "Because I'm a loser. That's why. Uncle Bruce can do fine with me..." Anthony sighed.

Anthony slammed his head against the door, not caring that it caused great pain since the assault from Greg and Marty AND Poison Ivy smacked him with an iron bar a few days ago. "Well. This is it. I've been in here since, I don't know, was it at about, three o' clock?

Anthony tried his best to undo the knots, nearly making him BLEED, but, danggit, Greg and Marty must've been Boy Scouts or something!
Anthony swore at his fifth attempt at undoing the knots. All either futile, or it just made the knots even worse.
"Dammit! No ways of communication, no way to get outta here, no one knows I'm here 'cept those sons of bitches, damn, this week SUCKED." he thought furiously, wondering if he'd have to resort to chewing the ropes off like a hyena.

CLUNK
KA-BLAM
CHANG-CHANG-THUMP

Anthony gave a jump of surprise. "What the hell..." he realized it was glass breaking.
"Ho, thank GOD! Someone's here to help!"
"ROBIN!"
"Ho, crap, don't let him find me!"

He heard the clanging of thick boots sprinting towards the janitor's closet door. Sure enough...

Batman ripped the door straight of its hinges without breaking a sweat. He glared angrily at his acne-plagued, wimpy nephew. Slowly, Batman kneeled down and ripped the bandanna off of Anthony's face.
Anthony smiled awkwardly. "Erm...hi Uncle Bruce!" Batman growled in return and folded his arms.
"What the HELL are you doing in the janitor's closet, Robin?"
"Uhhh...The Joker did it?"
Batman yanked his nephew out of the dank, smelly closet and tore off his shoelaced bonds. "When we get back at the manor, I hope you have a damn good reason for having Gotham tearing up the whole town trying to find you!" Anthony nodded grimly, standing up, and following his Uncle Bruce, heels dragging in the dust from shame.