Note: once again, this is a sequel to the original Batman, Defender of Gotham. There will be references to the events in that fanfic. You can check out my profile above for that.
Bruce's perspective:
Most people spend their coffee breaks drinking coffee and maybe playing a game on their phone. Bruce Wayne preferred to check the Internet for any big crimes. What he discovered this day was that the day after the long trial of Ozwald Cobblepot, alias The Penguin, ended in a 9-3 hung jury, the DA's Office had dropped the case. Bruce pounded his desk.
As this case involved a shifty suit named Gabriel Boile cheating The Penguin out of his rightful ownership of a corporation known as The Cobbling Needle, many critics of corporate power immediately took Penguin's side. The fact that Boile had been since been murdered by one of his former victims did not help quash the fantasy that Penguin's killing spree had been fabricated.
True, there were others who saw Boile's death as a testament to the dangers of class envy, but there is no winning public division in a system of unanimous verdicts. On the contrary, in this politically toxic cases, a mistrial can be as good as an acquittal. The Penguin was free.
The Batman would have to keep an eye on the big bird.
Batman's perspective:
"I don't like this," repeated Robin once again.
"The fifth time is not the charm," Batman overruled his sidekick once again. "There's nothing we can do about The Penguin for now. Wrong or wrong, all his crimes have been ignored. We can't do anything about him right now. But we've located one of The Hog's illicit gun stores. That we can do something about."
They drove to the block where the store owned by Becky "The Hog" Traylor was. Both Batman and Robin jumped through a window. The badly-behaving guests from the South tried to defend themselves, but the element of surprise was hard to counter. Also, they had to defend themselves too quickly to organize well enough to take good shots without risking hitting a member of the crew. The need to not hit anyone but opponents was a "weakness" that the Dynamic Duo shared with these criminals, but for now, only the gangsters were affected by it. Batman and Robin were outnumbered eleven-to-one yet because of the advantages of surprise and spontaneity, Bruce's paperwork had been more difficult.
"Heavens to Betsy," Robin made an awful attempt at a Southern accent, "That was easy!" Batman had just about gotten used to Robin's humor. "How 'bout once we get the varmints outta hare, we make fireworks to show that no one poops in our neck o' the woods?"
"That better be a joke," Batman said, realizing otherwise. He was not pleased.
"What's the problem?" asked Robin in his real voice.
"Listen and listen well," demanded Batman, "We don't blow places up. Too much danger that an innocent passerby just outside could get hurt. Not to mention the possibility of environmental damage. I thought after so many months of this, you'd learn, but you're still acting like a total greenhorn."
"Greenhorn?" noted Robin. "At least you're keeping with the rural feel of this bust."
The Hog's perspective:
There could not have been a worse time for the two hundred fifty pound matriarch of the Traylor crime family known as The Hog to be in the monthly meeting of mob union bosses of Gotham City. The Hog had a feeling that she was going to be blamed for the damage The Batman and Robin were doing to the unions. It didn't help that among city slickers, a country girl like The Hog was an easy target. One of her stores having been hit the night before might be all the excuse needed for the other bosses to move on her territory.
The first words, as usual, were uttered by the black, headshaven, goateed Chairman of the unions, Gasper Whittaker. "I've got bad news for us all," he lamented. "Our smuggling average is down eight percent over the past year; extortion is down thirteen percent; sales of illicit goods are down nineteen percent; and theft is down a whopping thirty-two percent! It's no use pretending, brothers and sister: we're in a trouble. Trouble spelled The Batman."
"And he ain't alone," said Frankie Zucco, the new leader of Gotham's biggest Italian mob, what with Tony doing life. "He's got at least two helpers, and I hear there's one more who just started called The Huntress."
Gasper looked at The Hog. "So what are you doing about this, Hog?" he demanded.
"All Ah can."
"That's all you have to say?"
"What more is there?"
"You can start by confirming that the reason The Bat is alive isn't because you're sweet on him," said Riko Dimiquen, a Russian boss. After The Hog looked at Riko, he said, "I think he's hit your sweet spot too hard for you to whack him. You people are just too soft to make good gangsters."
The Hog's anger rose, but knowing she had no support in a room of city boys, she smiled and said sweetly, "Ah don't mind bein' underestimated 'cause Ah ain't from around here. Gives me an advantage."
"This ain't a North vs. South thing," Riko assured The Hog. "Or city vs. country or immigrant vs. third generation American. Girls are too soft to lead groups of alpha males. I think you've could've killed The Bat months ago, but you have a schoolgirl's crush and can't do it."
The Hog flinched upon hearing that. She was up against worse prejudice than she imagined. Not that he was wrong about The Hog having a crush, but he was blowing it out of proportion... wasn't he?
Still smiling, she got out of her chair and walked over to Riko, who wasn't showing any sign of intimidation. He got up and stared The Hog down. "Try not to kill each other," suggested Gasper. The Hog barely heard him, and the same seemed true of Riko.
"Don't screw with me, inbred bitch," threatened Riko. "I'd rather not hurt a lady."
"Don't worry," promised The Hog. "You won't." Rico's answer to that was a right cross that didn't even wipe the smile off The Hog's face.
"Ah knew it," said The Hog. "Just another 'macho' city boy who don't know what macho is. Lemme show you." With that, she belted Rico in the gut. He clutched it in pain, then fell to one knee.
"Poor thing," The Hog mocked. "Since Ah'm so 'soft,' Ah'll hug you and make it better." With that, She put Rico in a bear hug that she called The Hug. Riko screamed in pain as his already sore stomach was getting squashed!
"Enough," commanded Gasper. "He's gotten the point, Hog. Let 'im go." The Hog released the hold and placed Riko back in his chair. Disrespect for The Hog had turned into embarrassment and fear. Better than buttered grits!
"Here's the deal," said Gasper to The Hog. "You'll clean up our little bat infestation within the next two weeks. Whether you do 'im or coerce him into working for you, everyone else at this table will owe you an apology. Fair enough?"
Not really, but what am Ah gonna do? Start a war? There's eleven other bosses at this table. Not to mention that Gasper has a Hell of a lot more pull with the smaller gangs than me. We'd be outnumbered fifty to one. "Yes, sir."
After three hours of boring accounting talk, The Hog called another meeting to be waiting for her back at her restaurant, Country Buffet.
"So their rules of the road," The Hog finally finished explaining the situation, "Are get Batman or else. Any ideas?"
"None of 'em would last five minutes if Batman knew who they were," Joey Traylor, 21-year-old nephew of The Hog, complained.
"Ah know that, you know that," said Joey's father, Al, "But seein' is believin'."
"Becky's had success in fightin' him," recalled Daisy Thompson, a cousin of The Hog. "Why not just trap and put 'im down?"
"If only it were that simple," sighed The Hog. "Other than those costumed nuts, if anything happens to Little Bat, Ah'm the top suspect. And those crazy sumbitches are such prima donnas that they'd leave clues on purpose! Gettin' too much attention from the cops is what did in the Western cowboys, Italian gamblers, and black drug dealers. Ah ain't makin' that mistake."
"This wouldn't be 'cause you're attracted to 'im and can't bear to do him in, would it?" asked Joey. The Hog placed her right arm on the table in an arm wrestling position. "No thanks," said Joey.
"Good decision, sonny boy," Al reprimanded his boy. "Guess we gotta kill the sumbitch without nobody thinkin' we did it. Easier said than done." The Hog nodded.
"What if one of those nuts The Hog mentioned did it?" asked Yuji Takahan, a family friend of the Traylors.
"Easy answer," said The Hog. "The cops would be after that guy."
"That's it," Yuji snapped his fingers. "If he's killed by an Arkham inmate, everybody will point the finger at him, and we won't be suspected of anything."
"They've failed so far," said The Hog.
"But Batman couldn't possibly handle them all," reasoned Yuji.
"That's a stupid idea," said Al. "Ah couldn't possibly control them all," The Hog agreed.
"How about just some of the big ones?" asked Yuji "Their mutual loathing of Batman should keep them in line for awhile."
The Hog smiled. "Excellent idea," she praised Yuji. "Yeah, he'd never handle several of them."
Al was skeptical. "Tech nerds never understand people," he sneered, much to the displeasure of Yuji. "These assholes ain't like us. They're crazy. They can be beamin' at you with their lips one second and with their guns the next."
"We'll be careful," said The Hog. This is smart thinkin', Yuji. Here's all those Ah want: The Joker, Poison Ivy, Riddler, Harley Quinn, Scarecrow, and Killer Croc."
"How're we gonna get all those people out?" asked Joey.
The Hog thought. "Ah know of someone who might be able to help," suggested The Hog. "He's just been released from jail. The Penguin. Ah'll make the offer myself. You're with me, big brother."
"Absolutely," said Al. He clearly still disagreed with this decision, but knew that it wasn't his to make.
Batman's perspective:
Batman and Robin had tied up a pair of burglars for the police. "Well," said Robin, "Things are going swell. We struck a blow to the Traylors, there's no indication The Penguin isn't going straight yet, and nobody's gotten out of Arkham for months."
"Yeah," Batman said cautiously. "But things never stay quiet in Gotham for long. I've got a sinking feeling that something big's about to go down!"
The Hog's perspective:
The Hog and Al entered 3 Musketeers, a luxurious restaurant. "One of them elitist yankees?" asked Al.
"Yup, that's him." explained The Hog. "He was born with everything he ever wanted. Lost some of it when his company got rid of him, though. There he is." She pointed at a table with a bench. The Penguin was with an attractive date. The Hog and Al walked over to them.
"May we sit?" asked The Hog. "You can talk standing up," refused Penguin.
"You really know how to bag your targets," said Al, motioning to The Penguin's date.
"Wealth and fame are the ultimate girl-nip," explained Penguin. "And he's nice to me, too," added the date.
"Ah have a proposition for you," whispered The Hog.
"I'm not into fat ladies," said Penguin. "No offense to the overweight. I can refer you to some males I know who want something different."
"Ah want that confidence of yours for somethin' else," chuckled The Hog, though she continued to speak quietly. "Listen, feathered friend. How would you like to get even with The Batman."
"Yes, I've heard that like so many ladies, you are infatuated with him," whispered The Penguin. Before The Hog could object, The Penguin added, "That's fine. I've love to pay him back for taking away a year of my life and placing him in your loving grip is the best revenge I can think of. No offense."
"No offense my ass," said Al. "You ain't exactly a the sexiest man alive your..."
"Ah'll let you know when to slap 'im down," The Hog called Al off. "First, Ah want you to let some other gimmicky hoods outta Arkham Asylum."
The Penguin frowned. "Who do I look like? General Zod?"
"Ah got all the stuff you need. Some of it's... 'gifts' from Lex Luthor. And you know how to train birds, right?"
Penguin nodded.
"Good. Ah'll get you some that look harmless. A little medicine and druggin' and you'll be able to ambush unsuspectin' guards with it."
"You've got yourself a deal, chubby," said The Penguin. The Hog held out her hand. The Penguin kissed it. "Hey," said his date. "Jealous?" Penguin asked. "Good."
The Penguin's perspective:
The Penguin had been oversleeping since getting out of jail. His newfound fame and controversy had enabled him to support himself by cashing in on his celebrity, so he didn't have a job. But he was early to bed, early to rise the next morning.
He watched the recording made by the bug-sized robot of the Traylors that scouted Arkham the previous night. "Got everything you need, Oz?" asked Joey.
"More than enough," said The Penguin.
He went to Arkham as a tourist, four pigeons concealed in his tuxedo. He entered one hall and let the rest of the tour go ahead. Penguin released the pigeons and declared, "Strike!" The four birds flew at the two guards in the room and began pecking with drug-tipped beaks. Three seconds after the attack began, the guards were unconscious.
No time to waste! I'm on candid camera. Penguin took one of their keycards out and opened The Riddler's cell. "A good gesture from one out of shape archcriminal to another," smiled The Penguin.
"Now you can put your sense of humor to good use."
"I'm scaring you up a way out."
"I bring you the man of your... hugging him already. As much as I hate to rain on this tender moment, we have to hurry."
"Hello, green damsel in distress. Your knight in shining armor has come."
"Now I know what this blow torch is for." The Penguin used the blow torch to cut manacles off the super strong Killer Croc.
"Out," said a guard outside the cell. "Now."
Harley Quinn looked through the door window. "Four," she said.
"I'll handle this," promised Croc, squatting and pressing his hands against the ground. After everyone cleared a path for him, Croc charged through the door. He knocked out three guards, then broke the neck of the last!
"Was breaking his neck necessary?" asked Penguin as they ran to the room called Patients' Property Locker. Except The Penguin. Since his misshapen body made him a very slow runner, Croc had to carry him.
"Well, I approve," The Joker laughed
Once they entered Patients' Property Locker, the inmates freed by Penguin began suiting up and seizing their accessories. As The Penguin expected, more than a dozen guards were deployed to stop them. But this time, the villains had the means to fight back.
The Scarecrow jump kicked the door window to break it. "Hold your breath and cover your noses," he instructed as he took his tank of Fear Gas and sprayed it through the window. Horrified screaming could be heard on the other side of the door.
"Now that's my kind of men," said Ivy as she and her fellow criminals charged towards the entrance of Arkham Asylum. "Present company excepted."
"Speak for yourself," said Harley. "My man is strong, smart, and I love him for it!"
"You can add crude to that list," said The Riddler.
"Don't you have your own ladies, skinny?" asked The Joker. "Though I have a feeling they're going to feel very sad tomorrow."
"Enough arguing," said The Penguin. "We're together in this." Hog, in trying to recruit all these mental cases, I sure hope you know what the Hell you're doing.
With the guard population of Arkham decimated, the seven archcriminals had no trouble getting outside Trouble was that was a good ways to Gotham, and the GCPD had to be on its way.
They were running on the grasslands outside Arkham itself. "Where are we going?" asked Ivy.
"I've got rides waiting for us," explained The Penguin.
"What has a sense of direction but no plan?" asked The Riddler. "A lemming."
"I trust the source," reassured Penguin, "But if they don't make it, we have the equipment to ma... there!"
The cars finally became visible in the distance. Before long, all seven desperadoes were being driven away.
The Hog's perspective:
The hardest part was about to begin. The Hog had to get six (excluding The Penguin who was perfectly sane, if a tad arrogant) psychopaths to co-exist and cooperate. Al had insisted that he be a part of this. As he put it, "Somebody with a blade of grass' worth of sense has gotta help you here, sis."
The seven archcriminals finally arrived at the cabin just out of Gotham City. "Leave us," The Hog said to Joey and Daisy. "Good luck," they both said.
The Hog beamed at her guests. "Welcome Joker, Penguin, Poison Ivy, Riddler, Harley Quinn, Scarecrow, Killer Croc," she greeted those very people. "Ah'm Becky 'The Hog' Traylor. This is my big brother Al. We are partly responsible for your 'release.'"
"What is both free and not free?" asked The Riddler.
"Freedom?" guessed The Hog. Riddler nodded. "It's got the word 'free' in it but ain't free. People pay for it in blood. Ah get what your sayin'. Worry not. We ain't got no beef with you. We want what you want: The Batman."
"And what if I decided that I want nobody but my Harley to share credit with me?" asked The Joker.
"What if I wanted no one who doesn't know how to handle the all-powerful element of fear?" asked The Scarecrow.
"I'm a recluse myself," Poison Ivy explained herself. "Too few people are serious about saving the planet."
"That's right," taunted Al. "Walk away and forget that Bats busted you all at least once before. When you can't take him without help, we ain't bustin' you out again."
"If you follow the news," insisted The Joker "I was making him the greatest show on Earth before that star-struck kitty interfered!"
"Yankees and their excuses," snorted Al.
Before this got out of hand, The Hog decided to be more civil about it. "Ever hear of the War Between the States. You might better know it as the American Civil War. We were kickin' your asses until you managed to cut off the supplies we were gettin' from the British. We work together, Little Bat won't stand a chance."
"'Little Bat'?" asked Ivy with a smile. "No accounting for taste."
"Will you cramp our style?" Harley asked sternly.
"We won't get in your way," promised The Hog. "Ah'll make suggestions and Ah do insist that he be taken alive, but other than that, it's your call. As you can see..." she motioned towards a dinner table. "Dinner's ready. Hope you like steak, eggs, and sweet potatoes. Take a seat if you're in." With that, The Hog and Al sat at the back end of the table.
"I'd already agreed to this before I freed you," The Penguin said to the others, then took a seat.
"It would be hilarious to see Batsy dominated by you," laughed The Joker, taking a seat of his own.
"If Mistah J likes this, so do I," Harley sat next to The Joker.
"I'm gettin' him any way I can," said Croc. "This is the way, I guess."
"I agree with Croc," concurred Poison Ivy. "Batman's in the way of the salvation of the planet. He must be eliminated by any means necessary."
"This is a truly terrifying unit," cackled The Scarecrow. "With my help, it could be unspeakable!"
"I don't want to be a part of this," said The Riddler, "But if I were to make myself an enemy of this team, I wouldn't be the genius I am. But just so we're clear, I hate rednecks!"
"Haters gonna hate," said The Hog with perverse joy at having manipulated the arrogant Riddler to her dinner table and plan. "You are now The Malevolent Seven!"
"So how'd you get this cabin?" asked Croc.
"Tragic story," The Hog grinned from her ear. "Ah guess the man of the house fell on his face and crashed his ribs through his heart! His wife shot the son, dog, and finally herself. So sad."
Bret Johanson's perspective:
As always on the Bear 98 Gotham's nightly news show, Bret Johanson and his co-host Mirian Hale were having a ten-minute segment to debate whether The Batman was a force for good or evil.
"This mass breakout was always a danger," lamented Bret. "I've been warning our fellow Gothamites that Batman did far more harm than good."
"How can you possibly blame this on Batman?" asked Mirian. She seemed incensed.
"Because besides his disregard for the law, the worst thing about Batman is the challenge he issues to those lunatics."
"Overall crime is down since he showed up."
"Maybe... but that looks to change. If I were him, I'd look at this as my worse nightmare coming true!"
"For once, we agree on something Batman-related." Bret and Mirian high fived each other.
The Hog's perspective:
The following morning, The Hog, Al, and The Malevolent Seven were putting together their plan.
"I know how to draw him out," said The Joker. "We hit an after-school playground." He laughed out loud at what he had suggested.
The Hog walked up to The Joker and knocked him down with a roundhouse punch. The Hug won't work; that rose of his squirts acid. Instead, she stood over a face-down Joker and choked him from behind.
"Understand somethin', clown," said The Hog. "We Traylors don't do this scorched earth she-ut, much less target children. Ah know Ah said Ah'd stay outta your way, but this is a bridge too..." she felt the barrel of a pistol in the back of her head.
"That's my man, trailer trash," said Harley. "Let 'im go or your Southern fried brains are gonna be just plain fried."
The Hog heard another gun cock right behind Harley. "Nobody gets to pick on 'er but me," said Al. Harley dropped the gun.
"Like ol' times, big brother," The Hog thanked him. She noticed that the other costumed criminals had been entertained by this confrontation. "Happy to entertain you. Here's what we're gonna do..."
Batman's perspective:
Bruce Wayne had a "seizure." Only way to explain to his employees why he wasn't at work that day. Batman needed to be in action. With seven of the world's most dangerous criminals at large, there was no time to waste!
"Calling all cars," Batman heard on his police radio. "The fugitive Killer Croc, is causing trouble in the fourth district of Gotham City." Batman now knew where to go.
He drove to the fourth district. Two policemen lay dead. Four more and a policewoman were merely unconscious. Batman fired one of the Batmobile's gas bombs at Croc, but he dodged. From past experience, he could probably halt the Batmobile with his bare hands without a lot of driving to build speed. That was driving Croc wouldn't give Batman a chance to do. So he got out of the Batmobile and delivered a running jump kick that knocked Croc down but didn't seem to hurt him.
Croc ran in and launched Batman several meters back with a punch. Can't slug it out. Have to use my gas pellets on... Batman log rolled to the side just before a stream of acid would have burned his head.
It was The Joker. "You're working together?" asked Batman. He found it hard to believe that these psychotics could co-exist.
"We're both freaks, aren't we," said Joker. "Then again, you're the grown man who dresses like a bat." If any more archcriminals entered this fight, Batman knew he was in big trouble!
Batman heard a deflected shot fail to penetrate the combined defense of his protective cape and body armor. The Penguin, armed with an umbrella gun. Batman needed to fall back and regroup. Since they certainly weren't letting him back into the Batmobile, he had to retreat on foot.
He was pulling away when he was decked again. Harley Quinn and a baseball bat. "Hey, B-man," said Harley. "Your warrior princess cat ain't here to save you from me an' Mistah J this time, but don't worry, her time will come!" Batman knew that was a trick to provoke him into a hopeless battle. Wasn't going to work. He knew he needed as much of an advantageous battleground as possible to even the odds. Assuming there were no more archcriminals in this alliance, of course.
Batman's heart told him that more were coming. Sure enough, as he kept retreating, he spotted the Riddler with a machine pistol and rolled forward to dodge a shot and Bataranged the gun away. Ordinarily he would have taken Riddler out at that point, but he hadn't the time; The Joker, Croc, Penguin, and Harley were in pursuit.
Batman fled to a back-alley. This was the place to be. They couldn't surround him in this narrow a spot. Soon as they entered, Batman could Batgrapple onto one of the two surrounding rooftops, then rain Batarangs and Batbolas down on his pursuers.
Suddenly, The Scarecrow pounced on Batman from the top of the fence at the end of the alley and sprayed him with his skull-shaped gas dispenser. Batman shoved off Scarecrow, only to back off as he saw three ghosts moving in on him. Batman closed his eyes and concentrated to get the hallucinations out of his head. The good news was that he quickly cured himself of the fear.
The bad news was that this distracted him enough for four mutant vines to bind his limbs and drag him down onto his back. Batman drew a Batarang, but Poison Ivy pinned his right arm down underneath her boot, took away the Batarang and tossed it aside. "Uh-uh-uh," chastised Ivy. "Nobody hurts my babies. Nobody." She put down the pot containing the flower with the vines that were now binding Batman.
"That was almost too easy," gloated Croc.
"Congratulations," said Batman sarcastically. "You captured me in a seven-on-one attack."
"We're bad guys," Harley reminded him. "Fair fights ain't what we do."
"I'll do anything to save the planet from the likes of you, Batman," vowed Ivy.
"You are the one who ambushes people in the dark," said The Riddler. "How some people can be so hypocritical is a riddle even I can't solve."
"Before you die," said The Penguin, "Allow me to introduce us. We are the malevolent seven."
"Fitting name," Batman acknowledged.
"Why, Batsy," The Joker gave him a broad grin, even by his standards. "You seem absolutely shocked that we could form this team. Were you so naive as to think you could put us all in that house and not give us common cause?"
Batman said nothing. "I thought you were witty," said The Scarecrow. "Joker here has proven otherwise."
"You got me," acknowledged Batman. "But here's one dilemma you still have: which of your procedures for killing people are going to be used. And more to the point, who gets the credit?" Getting them to argue or better yet, fight amongst themselves was Batman's only hope. And they began looking at each other.
"No, no, no," shouted The Riddler. "This is what he wants. Us to fight each other like a pack of wolves over a kill. Batman, it didn't work!"
"But how do we decide?" asked Scarecrow.
"I was prepared for this little eventuality," said Riddler, reaching into his bag of equipment. It was an eight-sided dice. Batman's heart sank. His plan had failed.
"You play those nerd games?" laughed Croc.
"Way back," admitted Riddler.
"So did I," said Ivy to the surprise of the others. "Hey, I may be a gorgeous beauty that no man can resist, but I'm also a scientist."
"Enough of this," said The Riddler. "This decides which of us gets to pick Batman's demise. One is for Joker; two is for me; three is for Ivy; four is for Harley; five is for Croc; six is for Scarecrow; seven is for Penguin."
"How can that have an odd number of spots?" asked The Penguin.
"In the unlikely event of an eight," said The Riddler, "I'll just roll it again."
This looked like the end. But then all other eyes were on the dice. As Riddler tossed it, Batman reached into his belt and tossed a Batarang. The throw had to be perfect and it was; the dice went flying out of the alley, with all the archcriminals running at it to see who won the toss.
Batman now had time. He Batgrappled onto the rooftop to his left. This surprised the vines enough that they couldn't hold on. Batman began jumping and Batgrappling from rooftop to rooftop until he'd gotten back to the Batmobile and was driving away.
Batman pondered his next move. Attacking The Malevolent Seven was suicide, but they just might split up. And if all else failed, they had to sleep sometime. It would just be a matter of finding their hideout. They weren't rid of Batman yet. They would have to kill him to stop him.
The Huntress' perspective
Born in a crime family yet with a strong sense of justice, Helena Bertinelli felt that the best way to atone for the crimes her family had been committing for generations was to fight crime. She was doing this based on the model created by the famous Batman and now dressed in a purple costume with a domino mask and hooded cloak. She called herself The Huntress. Ironically, this meant that the self-defense training she had been taught by her gangster father, Franco, which was meant to be used against the police and rival gangs, was instead being used on criminals.
Helena had heard violent sounds outside the classroom at Gotham Elementary where she taught. Recess hadn't come soon enough. It gave Helena time to get into her Huntress outfit and drive to the scene.
She arrived just in time to see The Batman get captured and his attackers introduce themselves as The Malevolent Seven. Just before The Huntress would have stepped in, Batman had escaped. Huntress tried to catch up to him but watched him drive away. Pity, although two against seven were still bad odds.
Still, something had to be done about this alliance of archcriminals. Perhaps Gotham's heroes who had always defended her needed to come together in turn.
Poison Ivy's perspective:
"Perhaps we should call the Southern belle before we start looking," suggested The Penguin.
"Agreed," said Poison Ivy. "Since I'm the more accomplished female criminal here, I'll do it. Girl talk. This is something you boys wouldn't understand."
"Understood, my lady," chuckled The Joker. "But I don't fall into that catergory. I'm at the top of Gotham's most wanted and in the top ten worldwide! I'm in on this."
Since Ivy had quickly become great friends with Harley, the eco-terrorist did not put up a fight. Though like The Hog's infatuation with The Batman, who had sided with the system over the environment, Ivy wondered what Harley could see in this grinning psychopath. I will never understand why so many women fall for the wrong guy.
Setting her phone to show the face of the woman she was calling, Ivy phoned The Hog. "You get 'im?" asked the female crime boss.
"Almost," said Ivy.
"He got away this time," Joker said in a mock cartoon villain's voice. "But there will be others."
Ivy sighed. She was not amused. "We were about to split up."
"No," screamed The Hog. Clearing her throat, she said, "That's what he wants. "Take away your numbers and jump you from behind or even above. No. We ain't steppin' into Little Bat's trap. We're forcin' him into one of our own."
"What do you have in mind, sweet pudge?" asked The Joker.
"Ah'd rather make it a surprise," said The Hog. "Return to the cabin and prepare your attack. Ah got an idea to make him come to you."
To be continued...