A/N: This is another example of a story just popping into my head. Please tell me if I got my "thug voice" down alright, or if it needs tweaking. R/R, you know the drill. Grammar and such might be a bit messed up, but I've checked this pretty thoroughly so unless I missed something it's intentional. Formerly called "You Heard of the Batman?" but I changed it because I personally thought it was a terrible title. And I got to add a nifty little quote to tie it in!

"It is better to be a coward for a minute than to be dead for the rest of your life" - an Irish saying

I'm not anybody you'd call smart. Hell, I'd be lucky to get called average intelligence. I might not have any kinda book smart, but you can be sure that when I kill someone, he stays dead. And I'm smart enough to use what I got. And I got lots of muscle. It's natural that someone like me would work for the mob. Hell, you might even call it pro-vi-dence. Ain't that the fanciest word you ever heard? I throw that word around, and hell, you might think I'm just acting dumb.

I do pick up things every once in a while, though. Usually, it involves guns or blowing stuff up. And one thing I learned when I was a snot-nosed kid running around the Narrows was that when it comes to survival, to hell with everybody else. You save your ass first. It was what my family had drilled into me at an early age. Rules are fine and dandy, but it's better to drop them when there's trouble and look out for number one. Laws and stuff like that- they ain't going nowhere. Once you save yourself, you can go back and pick them up again. Pretend to be all lawful and shit.

You see, that's why I never got caught by the Batman. What did you just say, punk? Who's the Batman? Why, you're a dumber piece of shit than I am! "Ain't never heard of the Batman-" where d'you live, under a rock? Get outta here and stop wasting my time! People ain't got respect anymore these days. Before, a man told a story, they'd at least know what he's talking 'bout or would just keep their traps shut.

Anyway, I bet you know who the Batman is. He's like the hitman for the lawful people. Got no rules, 'sides one and that's optional the way I hear things these days. He gets all the criminals cops are too dirty to put away. Of course, that usually means big fish, not us lowlifes. Falcone, for instance. Yeah, that old mob boss gone crazy. Batman put him away. Tied him up to that damn signal at one of his drug docks. The one over by Avenue Q. Oh, your cousin lives there? Well, I'll be damned! I know the landowner! So shut up, unless you want him waking up minus a few fingers.

So anyway, my story. You see what all you people do? Distract me until I can't remember the important story I was trying to tell. One night I was down by Main Street, pulling a heist. I was the spotter, tucked away in a nice little corner. Perks of higher employment, eh? You get plausible deniability. Some of Maroni's guys were in the store, cracking through the glass. Of course there was a silent alarm, but who do you think I am? I'm with the mob, we got protection for that stuff. Flass was on duty. You know, that guy that washes once a year. And hey, if he'd broken the deal we woulda smelled him a mile off. Yeah, that's funny ain't it?

We're hauling in a fortune of jewels, and the guys are gettin all cocky. You know, celebrating early and that. Well, my friend says it's Murphy's Law, whatever the hell that is. Some crap about everything going bad. What, you expect me to know everything that walking encyclopedia says? We're almost ready to bail, when the boys start gettin all spooked. They got their guns – semi-automatics, beautiful pieces- waving around everywhere like they're facing a goddamn army. Of course, it's only one guy. Now you're seeing where I going, huh? Smart little punk. Yeah, it's Batman. He's like a fucking tornado, just decking everybody left and right.

So, while all the dumbasses in there are looking out for their buddies, I burn rubber and get the hell outta Dodge. Not literally! Something I learned from the walking encyclopedia. I hauled ass. Put the pedal to the metal. Ran away. Whatever. What, you think there's a moral to this? How about that you never face the Batman. You give up and run like hell, and hope he doesn't chase you. Now get outta my face, I'm trying to have a drink here! You'll still in school right? Go work on homework or something. And don't ask me for help, I don't fucking know what square roots are!