The Batman Casefiles
#2
July 12, 2003.
The Batman has planted his foot firmly in Gotham City. It's only been a week and a half, but I can already see the effect I'm having. The fear is starting to spread; when criminals hear the screech of a bat, they cower, and hide. But it's gonna take more than sound effects to clean up this city. There are some who are more brazen; they don't fear the night, and they don't fear me.
One criminal in particular comes to mind. He's begun a crime spree, robbing seemingly random places, about once a week since the middle of June. His methods, and bravado, almost seem to indicate that, despite his ingenuity in pulling off these crimes, he may well be clinically insane. He's known as The Red Hood.
A man walked up to the back door of the Apex Cosmetics' laboratory, whistling raucously. The sound was muffled somewhat by the red hood that covered his mouth and the rest of his head. Every so often he'd have to stop his whistling to blow cloth out of his mouth.
"Did you take out the night watchman?" The Red Hood asked one of his burly thugs.
"Uh, yeah, we took him out good, Red."
"That's Mr. Hood to you!" The Red Hood took out some lock picking equipment and began to work on the door. "Now, let's see. The frog goes under the log. No, wait. The frog jumps over the log and into the pond and catches a fly…oh, I can't remember this!" A wide grin crossed the Red Hood's face. "I give up!" With that exclamation, he pulled an explosive out of his pocket and set it on the lock. Seconds later, it went off. The Red Hood broke out in laughter. "Wheeheehee!!! Plastic explosives are fun!"
"Hey, uh, Mr. Hood, won't the guards hear that?"
"So what if they did, assuming there are any more? These rubes probably don't even know the number to call 9-1-1. That's why we're here, because the security isn't good enough to stop us!"
"Well, I mean, it's a big company,"
"No, it's not. Have you ever heard of the Apex Cosmetics company?"
"I have," the other thug said, stepping forward. "My girl always uses their Instant Skin Smoothener. See, her skin's always blotchy red, but it makes her complexion all smooth," the thug stumbled over the big words, but finished despite them. "With a light, delicate skin tone."
"That's just my point exactly," The Red Hood said, conceitedly. "What kind of cosmetics company would sell Instant Smoothies?" He laughed at his own joke. "Just keep your guns handy. They shouldn't be a problem."
The Red Hood was right. As they walked through the building, they didn't see anyone anywhere. They took the stairs to the second floor and came to the main lab.
"Top floor, boys," The Red Hood said, "This is where the President's office and safe are. See what I mean? What kind of chemical lab would only have two floors?" He and his two accomplices walked through the room and into another, much larger room. The only floor was a thin catwalk, stretching over a large vat on the lower level.
"Hey," one thug said, "Look at all dat Instant Skin Smoothener! My girl would be fixed for life if she could get alla dat!"
"Forget the smoothies. Across this catwalk is the safe. But it doesn't look very safe. Do you think it's strong enough to hold us?" The Red Hood said, hesitantly.
"Sure it is, Mr. Hood," The other thug said, stepping out onto the catwalk. "See? No prob."
"Hmm," The Red Hood said, tentatively taking a step forward. He planted one foot on the catwalk, felt how it supported him, and then put the other foot down on it. "Hey, this is sturdy." The Red Hood started jumping on it, making a slight metallic clang each time he landed. "Hey, look, boys. Have you ever seen my handstand?" The Red Hood bent down and then pushed back up, supporting himself with his hands. His red pinstripe suit fell downward as he began walking on his hands.
"Uh, Mr. Hood, Sir, I don't think—"
"Nonsense, it's perfectly safe," The Red Hood said, laughing, mere seconds before his hand slipped and he fell, plunging into the vat of cosmetics below. For a long moment the thugs held their breath, wondering if their source of income was dead. Then the Red Hood came back up to the surface, splashing and spluttering. With effort, he swam over to a ladder that went back up to the catwalk. Pulling himself back up, thoroughly soaked, he looked at his two lackeys, saying nothing, and walked into the room with the small safe. Finding the safe, he expertly opened it.
As his two thugs were scooping money into a bag, the Red Hood pulled the soggy, oily mask off of his face. He ran his hand through his hair, and felt that it too was soaked in the cosmetic from the vat he had fallen into.
"Well, at least it smells good." The Red Hood noticed that there was a small private bathroom attached to the room he was in. As the thugs slowly continued to bag their loot, he went in there, hoping he could wash at least some of the stuff off.
He turned on the light, looked in the mirror…and screamed. He ran back into the office, and when his thugs saw him, they yelled in fright as well. His face, and the rest of his skin, was bleached a stark bone white, and his formerly auburn hair was a dull green. After getting over his initial shock, the Red Hood dashed back into the bathroom and looked in the mirror again. He came out laughing hysterically.
"Ha, ha! I look like a clown!"
"It'll probably wear off, boss."
"Well, why would I want it to, dimwit? Give me that deck of cards you have!"
"Look, Mr. Hood, I'm sorry! Don't make me do da Fifty-Two Card Pickup again."
"You can stop calling me Mr. Hood, both of you," The laughing man said, pulling out one card. "Sure, The Red Hood has become a household name in the last month, but it's not quite the moniker that will strike fear into the hearts of crimefighters everywhere. I need something more thematic. Something that people will really remember. And thanks to the terrible side effects of taking a bath in that cosmetic what's-it, I can now be called, The Joker!" The Joker laughed loudly and maniacally. He threw the card into the safe, and he and his men left the laboratory.
Continued…
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