It was true. It was all true. There really was a penguin man of the sewers. Either that, or the events of the entire night had been a bad dream, and he would wake up, back in his nice warm bed, ready to meet Wayne the next morning.
But no, that wasn't the case. He pinched himself, but he was still in the sewers, and the deformed man was still looking towards him expectedly, talking with a certain smugness Max hadn't expected.
"Odd as it may seem, Max... you and I have something in common," the penguin man said, while twisting the umbrella in his hands. Max was flabbergasted by the suggestion. What could they possibly have in common?
"We're both perceived as monsters," the Penguin continued. "But, somehow, you're a well-respected monster, and I am - to date - not!"
Max found himself scowling, and began to regain some of the confidence he had lost when he first set eyes on the Penguin.
"Frankly, I feel that's a bum rap," Max said. "I'm a businessman. Tough? Yes. Shrewd? Okay. But that does not make me a monster- "
Max didn't get the chance to continue as the Penguin undid the string on his umbrella, revealing a large, swirly black and white pattern. The Penguin twisted it, making it spiral.
"Don't embarrass yourself, Max," the Penguin hissed. "I know all about you. What you hide, I discover. What you put in your toilet, I place on my mantle. Get the picture?"
The Penguin knew more than Max had given him credit for. He knew about the toxic waste. He knew about the shredded documents. He even knew about Fred. Despite his circumstances, Max knew he was resourceful. But why did he go through all this trouble?
What did he want?