Playhouse of Evil
Summary: When the Rouges de-age to children, Wally is in for one big adventure
Disclaimer: DC-Property
"You watch them, I´ll go and tell Linda."
"Good luck with that."
He waves goodbye and I speed off. Linda has an interview today with someone of the mayor´s party. Luckily I can catch her a minute before it starts. I quickly explain anything, watch her face go slowly into "WTF?" and then speed off. I hate to leave her alone like that now, but I decide that I would probably be more sorry if I let the Rogues unsupervised.
I spot Cold in my living room. He´s still dressed in his anorak, big ski-boots and a huge scarf wrapped around him. "Listen, Len-"
"I´m not Len." came the muffled response.
"Huh?"
"That´s just Heatwave. He whined about him being cold, then he was bitching-"
"HEY!"
"Long story short, he can have my anorak as long as he stays quiet."
I turn around to the speaker. Cold, I presume. He´s wearing an ice hockey trikot (that was definitely not in the clothes bag and is several sizes too big for him and looks suspiciously like my ice hockey trikot), shorts and flip flops.
He looks like a normal kid, brown hair, blue eyes...and he´s sneaking off to my freezer. "You have any sea salt ice cream? That stuff is delicious!"
"All Rogues, into the living room. Now!"
I take a closer look at them. I´m not sure that I would recognize them now when they would wander off now. And I have the certain feeling that I might regret that.
There´s Heatwave, dressed like Cold.Okay...he´ll stick out like a sore thumb.
Cold with the ice hockey trikot, easy to spot.
Trickster...the only blond guy and he has managed to find yellow striped shorts. Along with a blue baseball cap and him constantly chewing pink gum...memorable.
Boomerang...the T-shirt with the kangaroo...yeah...
Weather Wizard...all in black...he does look like a goth...or is that term emo?...I´m not sure.
"I´m sure that the league is already working on this issue. And I was informed that you´re not the only ones who reverted to youth in such a manner. The solution to this will probably be found sooner than you can say-"
"Wally; Boomer is picking on me!"
"Shut up, Mark, I´m not!"
"Yes you are!"
"Am not!"
I groan inwardly and try to settle this when I notice
"Hey! Where´s Trickster?"
Chaos results as the kids turn my apartment upside down on their search&exploration tour.
"Nice TV set, Flashypants."
"What a view!"
"Is this table supposed to be wobbling that much?"
Then the doorbell rings. "What now?" I think.
cliffhanger, muahahaha