A/N: Ok, ok, I really should update "A Series of Regrettable Events," but I've hit a block with that one and my creative juices have been working with this one and I figured, "Well, what better way to celebrate Arkham Origins?"

Anyway, I'll have the character list up on my profile later tonight so, keep a look out. And if you watch the Cell Block Tango number from the movie musical "Chicago," this will probably make much more sense, just so you know. And please review and above all, enjoy!

P.S. If you are following "A Series of Regrettable Events," please forgive me. I'm trying my best.

Cell Block Tango

Darkness. The kind that you can feel is full of life but you just can't see it. And sure enough in the silence, there's a beat. Click click. Boom. Click click. Boom. Click click. Boom. Click click. Ratatat. Boom. Click click. Ratatat. Boom. Click click. Ratatat. Boom.

"Pop!" whispered one voice.

"Six," said another.

"Squish," came in reply.

"Uh-uh," someone sighed

"Cicero," was murmured.

"Lipschitz," chimed one more. A drum's beat began, the sound of something rolling filled the room, and from the depths of the darkness, a single spot light illuminated a tall, thin, pale red haired woman in her forties.

"And now the six merry murderesses of Blackgate Penitentiary, in their rendition of 'The Cell Block Tango,'" she introduced, the sighs and echoes continuing behind her, before the stage went black again and she vanished from view as the voice maintained their mantras.
"Pop!"

"Six."

"Squish."

"Uh-uh."

"Cicero."

"Lipschitz."

Suddenly, a row of bars was lit up and the women revealed themselves.

"Pop!" snarled a black haired woman in a revealing black suit dress.

"Six," a blonde in a tiny green skirt and jacket with a small purple top underneath hissed.

"Squish," seethed a red head in a leotard, bowtie, bowler hat, and tights.

"Uh-uh," breathed a blonde in a revealing white suit dress.

"Cicero," murmured a blonde in a tight violet suit, grinning at an unseen audience from behind the bars.

"Lipschitz," a blonde in a scandalously short blue dress, pinafore, and tights emphasized. The music chimed and they began to sway.

"Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz! Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz!" they all chanted as twisted and grinded against the metal bars. "He had it coming. He had it coming. He only had himself to blame," they all sang, stomping their heeled shoes to the beat of the music, twisting themselves through and around the bars. "If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it…"

"I betcha you would have done the same!" the blonde in the violet suit shouted, before the women returned to their chants.
"Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz! Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz!" they cried as a section of the bars opened and the black haired woman in the revealing black suit walked out into center stage.

"You know how people have these little habits that get you down?" she asked, twisting her hips seductively as she walked. "Like… Bernie. Bernie liked to chew gum, no, not chew: Po-p," she accentuated. "So I came home this one day and I am really irritated and I'm looking for a little bit of sympathy and there's Bernie lyin' on the couch drinking a beer and chewin', no, not chewin', poppin'!" she shouted, swinging herself around a nearby pole, before sliding herself against it. "So, I said to him, I said 'You pop that gum one more time'" she sighed "And he did. So I took the shotgun off the wall and I fired two warning shots." A beat as she hung upside down from the pole, her legs wrapped firmly around it as she smiled. "Into his head." She flipped herself right side up as the music began again and the girls continued singing their melody.

"He had it coming. He had it coming. He only had himself to blame," they sang as the girl in the short black suit dress slid across the stage, turning and bending over backward. "If you'd have been there, if you'd have heard it, I betcha you would've done the same!" they cried, reaching out of the bars as they rolled back and the blonde in the green skirt and jacket with the purple top walked out.

"I met Ezekiel Young from Salt Lake City about two years ago. And he told me he was single and we hit it off right away," she reminisced, swaying her hips as she walked. "So, we started living together. He'd go to work, he'd come home, I'd fix him a drink, and we'd have dinner. Then I found out, 'single' he told me? Single my ass!" she shouted, going into the splits. "Not only was he married, oh no, he had six wives. One of those Mormons, you know. So that night, when he came home I fixed him his drink as usual." A beat as she pulled a red scarf of her shirt. "You know, some guys just can't hold their arsenic," she smirked. She snapped the scarf.

"He had it coming. He had it coming. He took a flower in its prime. And then he used it and he abused it. It was a murder but not a crime," the women argued, as the red head joined in the woman in black's dance, as the door slid back and the red head in the black leotard, fishnet stockings, bow tie, and bowler hat.

"Now, I'm standing in the kitchen, carvin' up the chicken for dinner, minding my own business, and in storms my husband Wilbur in a jealous rage," she says, walking around the stage, thrusting her hips forward with each beat of the drums. "'You been screwin' the milkman' He says. He was crazy. And he kept screamin' "You been screwin' the milkman."" A beat as she froze in the middle of the stage. "Then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times," she stated, shaking her hips with the tambourine.
"If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I betcha you would have done the same!" the women froze, stopping their dancing as the blonde in the white suit dress glided onstage.

"Mit keresek én itt?" she asked, her face forlorn as she pirouetted and sashayed across stage. "Azt mondják, a híres bérlő kényszerült a férjem le, és vágja a fejét. De ez nem igaz, én ártatlan vagyok. Nem tudom, miért mondja Uncle Sam csináltam. Próbáltam elmagyarázni, hogy a rendőrség, de ők nem értették meg..."
"Yeah, but did you do it?" asked an unseen voice.

"Uh, uh, not guilty," the woman sobbed. The music shifted as she held up a white handkerchief.

"He had it comin'. He had it comin'," the girls sang softly as the blonde woman in the violet suit made her way out into the spotlight.

"My sister, Veronica and I had this double act and my husband, Charlie traveled around with us," she stated. "Now for the last number in our act we did these 20 acrobatic tricks in a row. One, two, three, four, five, splits, spread eagles, back flips, flip flops, one right after the other," she described, turning, twisting, bending alluringly as she did so, the other girls doing similar actions behind her. "So this one night before the show we were down at the hotel Cicero. The three of us, boozin', havin' a few laughs, and we ran out of ice so I went out to get some. I come back, open the door, and there's Veronica and Charlie, Doing number seventeen, the spread eagle." A beat as the two girls in the black and white suits did the splits. "Well, I was in such a state of shock, I completely blacked out I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later when I was washing the blood off my hands I even knew they were dead," she said, unrolling red wrappings in her hands as she spoke. Snapping them with a flick of the wrist, she began to dance again. "They had it coming, they had it coming, they had it coming all along!" she bellowed. "I didn't do it, but if I'd done it, how could you tell me that I was wrong?" she yelled, before dropping out of view as the blonde woman in the scandalously short blue dress, pinafore, and tights rose into view.

"I loved Al Lipschitz more than I could possibly say," she lamented, winding herself up and down a nearby pole. "He was a real artistic guy, sensitive, a painter. But he was always trying to find himself. He'd go out every night looking for himself and on the way, he found Ruth, Gladys, Rosemary, and Irving. I guess you can say we broke up because of artistic differences: He saw himself as alive and I saw him dead," as she brought out a red cloth and dragged it across her throat threateningly, before snapping her wrist.

"The dirty bum, bum, bum, bum, bum! The dirty bum, bum, bum, bum, bum!" the women shouted, charging forward, the stage behind them suddenly illuminating the figures of dozens of other women behind bars as more appeared to join the first six. These women were dressed like police, black and white or orange prisoners uniforms, asylum patients in straightjackets, and even some of the vigilantes that inhabited Gotham, though all the costumes were highly revealing and seductive, and soon joined the other women in their dances.

"They had it comin' (they had it comin'), they had it comin' (they had it comin'), they had it comin' all along! 'Cause if they used us ('Cause if they used us) and they abused us (and they abused us), how could they tell us that we were wrong? He had it coming (he had it coming), he had it coming (he had it coming), he only had himself to blame!" they roared, kicking with each clash of the cymbals, before sliding to the floor, twisting and bending every which way. "If you'd have been there (if you'd have been there), if you'd have seen it (if you'd have seen it), I betcha you would have done the same."

"You pop that gum one more time. Single my ass. Ten times. Miert csukott Uncle Sam bortonbe. Number seventeen, the spread eagle. Artistic differences," the women echoed as they slunk back into the shadows.

"Pop!"

"Six."

"Squish."

"Uh-uh."

"Cicero."

"Lipschitz." The cellblock doors rolled back with a clang, and the lights went back on, illuminating the formerly darkened theater.

"Alright. Zat was good ladies," the red headed older woman commented, walking toward the stage with her cane, a Russian accent honeying her words. She then slammed her cane into the ground, startling the girls. "But it can be better, and so it vill. Gilda, don't look so threatening. Chase, less condescending, more captivating. Same for you Veronica. Grace, go for innocent, not awkvard. Jeannie, smiles should be inviting, not insane. And Alice, keep focused, this is not Vonderland. From ze top." They nodded and immediately began reset.

"Madame Andreyv?" came a soft voice and the red headed woman turned to see a young platinum blonde girl looking up at her.

"Yes Lucy?"

"There's some men at the front door who want in," Lucy informed her. Madame Andreyv closed her eyes, sighed, and pinched the bridge of her arms.

"Tell them to come back when we're open. If they refuse, get out a sniper rifle," she instructed, massaging her head. Lucy smiled and nodded.

"Yes Madame," she acknowledged before scurrying off. The red headed older woman finally opened her eyes and took a deep breath. Madame Anastasia Andreyv had been the Madame of Gotham's Underworld for decades and after such a long reign, she had refused to let Quincy Sharp, Hugo Strange, or Arkham City get in the way of her, her business, and especially, her girls.