It Takes 5 Rogues To Raise A Piper
Chapter 9: The Pied Piper of Hamelin
Lisa Snart had seen her brother in many situations; she had seen him mad, scared and everything in-between but never nervous. He picked her and Roscoe up from their apartment saying that the others had kicked him out because they apparently needed to set Lisa's surprise up. Lisa was sure that she should be worried when Len arrived wearing a polo shirt and dress slacks instead of his usual jeans and ice hockey shirt but the clincher was when he shook Roscoe's hand without having to be ordered! She and Roscoe exchanged worried looks as they climbed into Len's beat-up station wagon, a vehicle he had bought only after Lisa refused to set foot in his stolen ice cream truck.
"So what's Hartley like?" she asked in an attempt to break the awkward silence.
Len straightened and stopped tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Well when he gets into his books he's quiet as a mouse, speaking of which I suppose I should have warned you about this earlier but ah he's got pet rats."
"Pet what?" Lisa repeated, certain that she hadn't heard her brother correctly.
"Pet rats," Len pointedly looked out the window.
"Rats aren't so bad," Roscoe spoke up from the backseat. "I once had a pet mouse named Thaddeus."
"Great," Len groaned. "Hartley's taking after Roscoe. I just hope he doesn't try to destroy the world when he grows up."
"Hey I had psychological problems," Roscoe protested. "I'm much better now."
"So how many rats does he have?" Lisa attempted to head off the inevitable argument for as long as possible.
"It really just depends on how many rats are in the building," Len sighed. "Hartley's got cybernetic implants and so apparently he can hear the rats talking or something like that."
"Okay," Lisa settled back in her seat. "This is going to be an interesting day I can already tell."
Thankfully they arrived at the Rogues secret hideout less than fifteen minutes later. Lisa climbed out of the car and stretched as she looked approvingly at the recently mowed yard. If she tilted her head just right she could make out a small face pressed against one of the front windows. She waved and then chuckled when the face rapidly disappeared and the curtains were drawn.
"Lisa, darling, a little help?" Roscoe said as he struggled to lift all of the packages that Lisa had insisted he bring.
"Oh of course, Lenny, help Roscoe," she commanded.
Both men shot her pained looks but she just ignored them and walked towards the front door. Just before she reached it the door was opened and she found herself facing a small boy who stared up at her. "Hi," she smiled, kneeling down so that she was on his level. "I'm Lisa, and you must be Hartley."
"Hi, Ms. Lisa," Hartley said politely.
"You can call me Aunt Lisa," she decided as she ruffled his red hair and stood. "I brought you presents," she said as she walked inside the base then stopped and did a double take. Half of the living room had been blocked off by what appeared to be three different bed sheets tied to each end of the wall. "I'm not even going to ask."
"It's a surprise!" Mark's voice sounded slightly muffled as he called from the other side of the sheet.
"You better not have gotten anything dirty," Len snarled as he and Roscoe sat down their load.
"Don't worry we didn't," Digger assured him as he entered the room.
"What the hell are you wearing?" Len demanded as he stared in horror at the Australian who was wearing a purple dress and sandals.
"Huh?" Digger looked down at himself. "You should see Mick's outfit; it's even worse. Speaking of which, Hartley, we're fixing to start."
"Okay," Hartley nodded then disappeared behind the curtain.
"Have a seat," Digger said then also left.
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," Roscoe said worriedly as the three of them sat down on the couch.
"Nonsense, it'll be fine," Lisa declared.
"Lisa, we just saw Digger in a dress. How can anything be fine after that?" Len demanded.
"I should probably schedule an appointment with my therapist," Roscoe decided. "Tomorrow would be good."
"Lady and…gentlemen," Sam's voice echoed throughout the room. "Today we would like to invite you to see a very special treat. Produced by the Rogues Gallery Theater, directed by our very own Mick Rory and written by Mark Mardon, starring in his first role ever Hartley is The Pied Piper of Hamelin!"
"Theater?" Len repeated in disbelief.
"Oh a play!" Lisa clapped her hands together in delight.
The 'curtains' slid to one side revealing a stage. What appeared to be buildings were painted on the walls and several rats were running around on the stage. Mark walked in, wearing green pantaloons with a yellow shirt. "Oh no. The rats are at it again! Mayor!"
"You yelled?" Mick wore nothing but a fur loincloth and fire boots. He looked more like an Indian chief than the mayor of anything.
"The rats are back!" Mark pointed.
"And what do you expect me to do? I'm the mayor; I don't have any actual power!"
"Husband," Digger called sweetly as he entered. "Either get of the rats or I'm leaving you!"
"Good bye!" Mick waved.
"Mayor!" Sam ran in, his Greek style toga flapping behind him. "There's someone just outside the city who claims that he can get rid of the rats!"
"Yay!" Digger cheered. "Now we can stay married forever and ever." He threw his arms around Mick and squeezed hard.
The look on Mick's face suggested that he would have preferred to get a divorce but he managed to shrug off Digger's embrace. "Show him in."
Sam nodded then put his fingers between his lips and whistled.
Hartley walked in, wearing green tights, green pixie boots and a green witch's hat that was rather limp. But the crowning achievement of his outfit was the green shirt with white polka dots and he carried his black flute. "I am the Pied Piper," he announced. "I can get rid of your rats. All I require is a bag of cookies."
"A bag of cookies? That's a great deal," Mark said thoughtfully.
"Hold on," Mick said importantly, puffing out his chest. "I'm the mayor and I shall make the decisions around here. Get rid of the rats first, then we'll see," he told Hartley.
"It's a deal," Hartley lifted his flute and began to play. Upon hearing the surprisingly beautiful strands of music the rats flocked towards him and he led them out of the room.
"Hurray! The Pied Piper did it!" Sam grabbed Digger and they began to do the conga.
"That's good," Mick pulled out a bag of cookies and began munching on them. "Anybody want a cookie?"
"Don't mind if I do," Mark snagged one and Sam and Digger took care of the rest.
Just then Hartley came back in. "Mayor, I have returned for my cookies."
Mick froze then swallowed. "You must be stupid if you think I'm actually going to pay you," he laughed.
Hartley scowled, crossing his arms. "You promised," he insisted.
"Sorry but we already ate all the cookies," Mick smiled sweetly. "Now run along and never return."
"Everyone has to pay the Piper and now it's your turn!" Hartley pulled his flute out of his shirt and began playing again. Several more rats ran out, but these were all dressed in what appeared to be miniature outfits of the Rogues.
"Our children!" Digger cried in a falsetto tone. "Sweetheart, he's taking our babies!"
"Babies? We don't have any babies," Mick said in confusion. "Have you been cheating on me?"
"Cheating would have to imply that you even had a relationship in the first place," Sam pointed out.
"Good point," Mick agreed. "Better some other sap than me!"
"Sweetie!" Digger yelled again, crocodile tears welling up in his eyes.
"Oh all right," Mick sighed and turned to Hartley. "What would it take to make you give back our children?"
"I want all of your cookies," Hartley replied. "And you must give me the key to the city!"
"Never!" Mick declared. "Bye, kids." He pulled out another bag of cookies and ate those as well.
Digger let out a wail and began crying harder as the rats began dancing. "My babies!" he sobbed.
"That's all, folks!" Sam said jubilantly as the curtains closed.
The audience could only sit in horror as the play finished. Lisa stood up and began clapping. "Bravo!" she yelled. "Bravo!"
"That was the most horrific thing I have ever seen," Roscoe said slowly.
"The loincloth," Len muttered. "Where did he get it?"
"Did you really like it, Aunt Lisa?" Hartley asked as he ran over to her.
"Of course I did, sweetie, it was amazing!" she told him as she tweaked his nose, eliciting a giggle.
"Amazing is not quite the word I would use," Roscoe twitched.
"Never get that image out," Len shuddered. "Must erase my mind."
A/N: Hope you guys liked! Please read and review!
A/N/N: Hope you liked the Rogues version of 'The Pied Piper of Hamelin'. I've been planning this since my first story as a way for Hartley to get his nickname. Let me know what you think!
