Oscar sighed and stared into his drink.

Ever since he'd met Evelyn Byrd-Lennox, his life had changed. Everything seemed so routine, so dull...so meaningless.

Life had lost its shine, its happiness.

All because of her.

She was right.

Everything was meaningless and life was meant for those who were willing to throw caution to the wind, to do something wild and free.

She'd opened his eyes, and for that, he thanked her.

No, he didn't just thank her.

He loved her.

She was the perfect woman.

She was smart, she was beautiful. She understood things that no one else could understand.

She gave life meaning.

He wanted to share that meaning.

"Hey, bro, d'ya hear about the church?" He heard one drunk mumble to another.

Oscar groaned. Drunks were the worst type of people.

"Which church?" Another, slightly less sober than his companion, asked.

"First Church o' Gotham. Y'didn't hear?"

"'Bout what?"

"Zsasz got married."

Oscar clutched his glass tighter. Victor Zsasz had gotten married? But that meant- that meant-

"Yeah, this fuckin' loony, Evelyn Lennox 'r some shit, she married him. It's legal too."

"Fuckin' legal? Shit, they shouldn't let fucks like them get married, man. 's just wrong."

"Tell me about it. 'Course, if I were Zsasz, I'd wanna take her off the market too. Sheesh, she's fuckin' hot."

"Fuck no, she's a fuckin' lune man."

"Yeah, but she's got the body of a fuckin' Bunny, y'know what 'm'sayin'?"

"For real?"

"Nice tits, tiny ass waist. Man, too bad I didn't know her before she went crazy. I woulda fucked her."

"You're kiddin' me."

"She looks like she could be a fuckin' centerfold, man."

Oscar closed his eyes tightly, anger washing over him. He turned to look at them.

"You shouldn't say that," He muttered. "It's disrespectful."

"Dis'spectful?" The first drunk asked. "Fuckin' bitch is a lune and you're sayin' I'm bein' disrespectful?"

"She's still a woman, alright?" Oscar snapped. He stood and walked over to the men. "And she deserves your respect. What has she ever done to you?"

"Me? Nothin'. She's a fuckin' loony murderer, alright? She don't deserve my respect. I can talk about wantin' to put it to her all I want. I'd love to just 'disrespect' her over and over and-"

WHOMP

"You don't deserve to lick her boot-heels," Oscar snarled. "You don't deserve to be spat on by her. You don't deserve her gift!"

A cacophony of cries arose from the crowded bar.

"Shit!"

"Fuck!"

"Get that fuckin' moron out of here!"

"What, 's he in love with a fuckin' mental patient?!"

"Sounds like he's a rogue fanboy!"

Oscar took a deep breath in and left.

No one understood.

No one ever would.

She was perfect.

She had saved him.

They didn't deserve her.

They should be bowing to her!

He'd make them bow for her.


"Now, I'm guessing the lot o' you are wondering why I've called you over," Cobblepot muttered, looking through the crowd.

"Obviously, shorty, can ya get to the point?" A voice, obviously Garfield Lynns', called through the crowd. He sounded irritated, probably due to the fact that the girl he'd picked up at Evelyn and Victor's wedding the week before hadn't called him back yet.

"Shut your mouth, you dimwitted firebug, and let me get there!" Cobblepot snapped. He took a puff of his cigar and sighed. "There's a new player in town. His name is Strange. Dr. Hugo Strange. He's runnin' the Asylum while Sharpy's the mayor."

"Dr. Hugo Strange?" Joker laughed. "And just call me Professor Giggles! Hehehe!"

"Aw, puddin', you're so hilarious!" Harley Quinn cooed.

"I know that, Harley, I don't need you to tell me that. Got it?" He snarled. "Got it?!"

"Y-Yessir-"

WHOMP

"Y-y-yes, Mistah J!"

Cobblepot glared at them. "Are we done with the interruptions, Joker?"

"Oh, of course, Pengy-Baby," Joker oozed.

"Now, this Strange. He's been buying off properties in the Narrows."

"And this is important?" Selina asked. "Oswald, darling, I could be working right now if this is what this is about."

"They're building a super-prison in the Narrows," Penguin snapped. All of the rogues froze.

In the far back, Evelyn gripped Victor's hand tightly.

"A super prison?" She whispered.

Victor rubbed circles into her hand soothingly.

"Everything will be fine, dear," He mumbled. "They won't be able to keep us apart."

"That got your attention, didn't it, you miserable-" Cobblepot cut himself off. "There've been protests to the nature of the prison, seeing as it won't be a traditional...prison. They're calling it Arkham City."

"Arkham City?"

"It's pretty much just a piece o' the city cut off from the rest of the world. No way in, no way out, unless you're being brought in o'course."

"Have you been approached about selling the Iceberg, Mr. Cobblepot?" Daisy, a reporter who'd caught Ratcatcher's eye, asked with her notepad in hand.

"I've been asked. And no, Miss Newport, I ain't sellin'. No one's going to bully me into selling my business. They'll have to drag my dead body out of here if they want me gone."

"How is this Arkham City any different from any other prison?" Reaper demanded.

"It's free-range."

"Free-range?" Switch asked.

"Means you'll all be running around free as can be in a city."

"So, it'll be like a city full of criminals, just closed off from the rest of the world. Aren't they worried that someone is gonna get loose and sneak back into Gotham?"

"As far as I know," Cobblepot grimaced. "They've picked top-notch security. An organization called Tyger is going to be doing the security, and from what I hear, they're good. No one's gettin' out."


A/N:

So, I know I'm horrible for making you wait so long and I really really am sorry! Would you believe life (aka, the end of my imprisonment at the penitentiary called 'highschool') and a horrible bout of 'the lazy' caught up with me?

Anyway, due to the belated updating, reviews will be replied to in the next chapter.

I apologize for any inconvenience!

P.S. Is it me or is there something...ishy about this chapter? I don't know whether or not I like it...