Undoubtedly, the most important lesson that Harvey had learned over the course of his adult life was that crime was by no means any less stressful than politics, not by one whit. Everything was pretty much the same as it ever was. He had the same hyper-scrutinizing audience of civilians, the same unyieldingly cramped schedule, and the same boundless obsession with his city's crime rates. The only difference now was that everything was inverted, like a photo-negative. Really, the biggest change was his internal shift of power. Though they were both two needful halves of a whole, Little Harvey had become little more than a buzz in his counterpart's ear, rather than vice versa. They were both conscious, all the time, both of them on the inside looking out through their shared vessel, and both of them in conflicted agreement that they could never be a single entity, even if they wanted to be. Big Bad Harv had existed since his headmate was five, and he had no plans of ever going away, even if he thought he could.
Even though Big Harvey had seized full control of their shared body, he and his counterpart still communicated often. They even agreed on a few things. Both Harveys liked walks, particularly through the sewers. Aside from his second personality, solitary strolls through the muck were Little Harv's big secret. What would the people say if they knew that one of their leaders relished the chance to trudge through such horrible muck? Who in their right mind could tolerate the stench, the filth? Secretly, he agreed with them. But it mattered naught, as he'd long since resigned himself to clandestine madness, because no one really understood.
Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday
It was a good place to be alone. No one ever saw him go, so no one ever followed him. Despite the smell, it was a place to breathe easy.
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday
After Big Bad took over, the walks became less frequent, but they got longer.
Took ill on Thursday
He was aware now more than ever that the sewers were home to a number of the city's most terrifying residents.
Grew worse on Friday
But of course, not all of them were malignant.
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday
Both Harveys liked Solomon Grundy. Now that they were a little more seasoned when it came to dealing first-hand with freaks, not much put either of them on edge. Little Harvey was harder to frighten, and his alter had developed a better handle on his anger. After all, they were a pretty big freak themselves.
Solomon Grundy and Harvey were akin, torn between two identities. The monster and the man differed in many ways though, naturally. The former was caught up in the known versus the unknown, rather than partaking in Harvey's internal battle of right and wrong. But they were both split in two parts, and what was more was that Mr. Grundy kept neither demanding nor noisy company. They didn't do much together, really. Harvey only ventured into the subterranean haven when he was overloaded with stimulus, and what was more was that his brain-dead acquaintance was hardly a conversationalist. Their friendship was low-maintenance; it was enough just to be acknowledged and nothing more. Harvey would amble along the underground mazes dry patches, hands in his pockets, while Solomon Grundy trailed a few yards behind on his knuckles and knees, muttering nursery rhymes to himself.
Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Grew worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
That was the end of,
Solomon Grundy.