For Len Snart, Evan McCulloch, Mark Marsden, and Dr. Michael Amar, it
seemed as if the nights was over. The Rogues known as Captain Cold, Mirror
Master, Weather Wizard, and Murmur looked grimmer (than usual) when they
overheard a conversation from two girls. They seemed in their twenties.
They wore halter tops and miniskirts with fishnets and boots. "Whoa," said
Marsden. "It seems like we've got us some loosie goosies." The two
"geese" started talking. "So, Danielle, why are we going to "Bambino's"
again?"
"Jeezus, Kelly. How many times do I have to tell you?! Bambino's! Guys! Guys who deal drugs! Guys who are bad!" The Rogues looked at each other. "Guys who are criminals." The Rogues dashed across the busy street (In Keystone, the streets are busy even at two o'clock in the morning) to Bambino's Club. As they entered, their ear drums started to bulge inside their heads. From the DJ came an annoying beat of the stuff people actually liked. "Pathet'c li'l assholes!" muttered the Mirror Master. As the music played, the couples (who most of them had probably faked their way into the club) did their usual "anal sex with clothes" dance. Every minute or so, they stopped to go with the chorus of the song. The bass on the song went BOOM! The crowd went "Go! Go!" The DJ yelled "What?! What?!" The idiots replied "Yo! Yo!" Then, they all jumped, landed with a thud, and continued to try to screw each other through their clothes. For nearly a half-hour, this remixed rap/techno song played. And nearly every minute, the Rogues wanted to kill them all thanks to the continuing "BOOM! GO! WHAT! YO! JUMP! THUD!" beat. Eventually, Cold realized that the Mirror Master was missing. "Hey," he inquired. "Where the fuck did McCulloch go?!" He looked down towards the far end of the bar. There was the Mirror Master talking to the two "geese." Cold walked there as Mirror Master was showing off his criminal record.
"Yeah! I once 'eld th' 'tire police station host'ge!" he bragged.
"No!"
"Yea'. Really. I put 'em all in a mirr--," he stuttered. "—basement." Just then, Len arrived to his partner-in-crime's side. "Evan?! You're cheating on me?! With a...eww...woman?! Ah!" He slapped McCulloch square across the face. The two girls giggled and walked away. McCulloch turned to Len.
"Wot th' fuck was that fer, Len?"
"Cause you're a fucking slut-hog! And, besides, the fucking music's giving me a headache."
"Yeah," answered Marsden, who had come to the two "lovers." "People actually listen to this shit. Eminem's better than this." He sighed. "Just look at Murmur." He pointed towards Dr. Amar. He was turning over nut dishes and smacking them against his forehead.
"Sht..." Smack! "Up." Smack! "Wll," Smack! "it," Smack! "evr," Smack! "b'," Smack! "Qut?!" Smack! Just then, the bartender came over.
"Alright, buddies. If youz ain't buyin nuttin', 'den git!"
"Oh, you wanna fucking go?" provoked Marsden as he kicked back the barstool. "Come on, bitch!"
"AHHH! Sht up!" Murmur tried to yell. The music had just reached its "BOOM! GO! WHAT! YO! JUMP! THUD!" point. Murmur got up, reached under Len's jersey, and grabbed the cold gun from its holster. Just as the crowd jumped into the air, Murmur aimed the barrel at the dance floor, and pulled the trigger.
By the time the people landed, the entire dance floor was a sheet of ice. Every single person who was "dancing" on the floor slipped and fell flat on their backs or face. Cries of "AHHH!" "OWWW!" "OH, MY NOSE!" and "EEEEEE!" erupted through the club. Len looked at his companions and said "Ahh, the sound of music!" He grabbed his cold gun back from Murmur. "Let's go home, fellas." He looked at McCulloch. "And I'm still gonna beat your ass in Risk!"
"Or I could just beat you all to a pulp right now!" said an invisible voice. All of a sudden, a red-and-yellow-colored wind type substance swept past the Rogues and they felt...hands! They were carried through the exit. "What th' fuck?" bellowed McCulloch.
"Now, now, Evan...Didn't your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap. Must have, with that accent of your's." Standing in front of the Rogues was the Champion of Keystone City. Before them stood the Scarlet Speedster—the Sultan of Speed—the Monarch of Motion....The Flash! "Hello, gentlemen. And how are you doing on this lovely evening?"
"Jeezus, Kelly. How many times do I have to tell you?! Bambino's! Guys! Guys who deal drugs! Guys who are bad!" The Rogues looked at each other. "Guys who are criminals." The Rogues dashed across the busy street (In Keystone, the streets are busy even at two o'clock in the morning) to Bambino's Club. As they entered, their ear drums started to bulge inside their heads. From the DJ came an annoying beat of the stuff people actually liked. "Pathet'c li'l assholes!" muttered the Mirror Master. As the music played, the couples (who most of them had probably faked their way into the club) did their usual "anal sex with clothes" dance. Every minute or so, they stopped to go with the chorus of the song. The bass on the song went BOOM! The crowd went "Go! Go!" The DJ yelled "What?! What?!" The idiots replied "Yo! Yo!" Then, they all jumped, landed with a thud, and continued to try to screw each other through their clothes. For nearly a half-hour, this remixed rap/techno song played. And nearly every minute, the Rogues wanted to kill them all thanks to the continuing "BOOM! GO! WHAT! YO! JUMP! THUD!" beat. Eventually, Cold realized that the Mirror Master was missing. "Hey," he inquired. "Where the fuck did McCulloch go?!" He looked down towards the far end of the bar. There was the Mirror Master talking to the two "geese." Cold walked there as Mirror Master was showing off his criminal record.
"Yeah! I once 'eld th' 'tire police station host'ge!" he bragged.
"No!"
"Yea'. Really. I put 'em all in a mirr--," he stuttered. "—basement." Just then, Len arrived to his partner-in-crime's side. "Evan?! You're cheating on me?! With a...eww...woman?! Ah!" He slapped McCulloch square across the face. The two girls giggled and walked away. McCulloch turned to Len.
"Wot th' fuck was that fer, Len?"
"Cause you're a fucking slut-hog! And, besides, the fucking music's giving me a headache."
"Yeah," answered Marsden, who had come to the two "lovers." "People actually listen to this shit. Eminem's better than this." He sighed. "Just look at Murmur." He pointed towards Dr. Amar. He was turning over nut dishes and smacking them against his forehead.
"Sht..." Smack! "Up." Smack! "Wll," Smack! "it," Smack! "evr," Smack! "b'," Smack! "Qut?!" Smack! Just then, the bartender came over.
"Alright, buddies. If youz ain't buyin nuttin', 'den git!"
"Oh, you wanna fucking go?" provoked Marsden as he kicked back the barstool. "Come on, bitch!"
"AHHH! Sht up!" Murmur tried to yell. The music had just reached its "BOOM! GO! WHAT! YO! JUMP! THUD!" point. Murmur got up, reached under Len's jersey, and grabbed the cold gun from its holster. Just as the crowd jumped into the air, Murmur aimed the barrel at the dance floor, and pulled the trigger.
By the time the people landed, the entire dance floor was a sheet of ice. Every single person who was "dancing" on the floor slipped and fell flat on their backs or face. Cries of "AHHH!" "OWWW!" "OH, MY NOSE!" and "EEEEEE!" erupted through the club. Len looked at his companions and said "Ahh, the sound of music!" He grabbed his cold gun back from Murmur. "Let's go home, fellas." He looked at McCulloch. "And I'm still gonna beat your ass in Risk!"
"Or I could just beat you all to a pulp right now!" said an invisible voice. All of a sudden, a red-and-yellow-colored wind type substance swept past the Rogues and they felt...hands! They were carried through the exit. "What th' fuck?" bellowed McCulloch.
"Now, now, Evan...Didn't your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap. Must have, with that accent of your's." Standing in front of the Rogues was the Champion of Keystone City. Before them stood the Scarlet Speedster—the Sultan of Speed—the Monarch of Motion....The Flash! "Hello, gentlemen. And how are you doing on this lovely evening?"
