The afternoon was dark, and the storm had just drenched all under it's blanket of endless rain, Deep within the darkness of crime alley, as the last raindrop patters filled the alley, a group of seven outcasts had gathered together in preparation for the first steps into their path of becoming the greatest villains in Gotham City. Each of them have garnered a reputation of being worthless, idiotic, cowardly, nonsensical, childish, and delusional. To the mob, they were disgraces to the name of crime, the police would roll their eyes and arrest them with no real issues, the citizens only scoffed and ignored them, and the other costumed criminals laughed in their faces. But this was the day that they would show them all, the day that the Losers would become the greatest supervillains of all time!
Mitchell Mayo, otherwise known as the Condiment king was the founder of the group, and was easily voted as the leader of the team by a six to one vote ratio, the ne vote belonged to Abner Krill, otherwise known as the Polka-dot Man. Who viewed himself as the only competent criminal of the group and in his delusion viewed himself as the great supervillain in the world and was viewing himself as Batman's arch enemy; even better than the Joker. But the votes were cast and Mitchell was made the leader of the Losers. He along with the mentioned Polka-dot man, and fellow losers the Penny Blunderer, the Signal Man, Black Sheep, Mr. Moustache, and DJ Forks whom like his teammate Abner viewed himself as a better criminal than the others, as well as an infamous street gangster.
"Yo c'mon King! Let's get the forking party started man!" cried Forks.
"All in good time DJ," Condiment King replied. "But to be sure that we begin our reign correctly, we have to start from the ground up and build from there, and only then will we relish in our glorious future."
Most could only answer back with a groan of disgust.
"God, that was horrible pun!" Signal Man cringed.
"Hey!" Mitchel shouted. "I don't see you cutting the mustard!"
Another fit of groans filled the air, clearly their leader had no concept of actual comedy.
"Stop," begged Mr. Moustache who had his moustache covered with plastic bags to protect his stache. "Just for the love of all that is handsome, please just stop. You're upsetting my moustache."
"Yeah!" Black Sheep cried. "Black Sheep would even say your jokes are bad, and he's far away in Happy Sheepy Town!"
"Oh God, this again?!" Signal man shouted. "How many times do we have to tell you fatty?! Happy Sheepy Town is a baby show! Meaning it's not real! Stop fooling yourself and pretending that it's a real place!"
To say that Black Sheep was upset, would be the understatement of an understatement. He threw his bag and wand onto the wet ground and stomped his feet while his face grew redder than a tomato. Gritting his teeth, Black Sheep pointed at the Signal Man and demanded that he shut his mouth right then and there.
"It is too real! I've seen Happy Sheepy Town with my own eyes!" Sheep cried, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. "They are real, Joker told me so!
Signal Man didn't show it through his mask, but he could only roll his eyes and groaned while pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I should have known this was Joker's fault."
"That's right!" Sheep answered as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Happy Sheepy Town is real, and so are the citizens! You're just being a hater, and a nasty troll!"
It didn't take a genius to see that now the Signal Man was even more frustrated at the man-child. Looking towards Forks, the yellow cladded rogue reached for one of the silverware obsessed rogue and stole one of his forks, much to the wannabe gangster's efforts to get the fork back. Breathing on the fork and wiping it off with his still wet cape, Cobb shoved the fork into Shepard's face forcefully, Oh how he wanted to stick the pointed edge into the baby's eyes, but alas, he could not. So, he just held the fork vertically in his palm as he made his move.
"You make fanart about your old baby characters beating up the new ones, you harass voice actors online, you've vandalized advertisements because you didn't like the way the new characters were drawn, and you wine and bitch whenever someone calls you out on your crap! So do us all a big favor and take a look in the mirror pal!"
With a cry of rage, Shepard then tackled Cobb and within a flash, punches from both sides were thrown. Though Shepard did all he could to fight the "hater", Cobb proved to be a more competent fighter; even thought that statement isn't speaking much volume. Pretty soon, DJ Forks joined in the fight, in an effort to get his precious fork back. As this went on, Polka-Dot Man only laughed at the incompetence of his team mates, and that he didn't need a team. For he was the greatest villain of all time and that being with them was nothing but an insult.
Joe Coyne, or the Penny Plunderer as he called himself, was in charge of lookout duty, and was doing quite an awful job of doing so for he only stared at his penny collection with tenderness and hunger. A homeless man who only cared about pennies, Coyne also suffered from a severe case of Pica, and was known to also eat his collection, and as he proceeded to eat the pennies in his grime riddled hand, a faint whimper from outside the alley caught his ears. His head shot up from his 'lunch' and before him walking in the rain was a woman wearing a purple shaded jacket, clutching at her biceps and whimpered again as though she were in severe pain. Drenched in rain water and walking the street in bare feet, the woman stopped dead in her tracks, and raising her head in the air, took short inhales before recoiling her head in disgust.
"God!" she murmured. "What died?"
Though it were true that Coyne had not bathed in God knows when, he didn't think he smelt that bad; although his team begged to differ. While he took out his knife and went to warn the others, his barefoot kicked a trashcan lid, earning the woman's attention. Getting down on all fours, Coyne crawled as fast and silently as he could back to his team while the woman looked into the alley, to investigate the noise.
Returning to his team, Coyne observed the sight of his team beating the crap out of each other as his leader banged his forehead on the alley wall.
"Guys, guys guys!" Coyne spat as he rose to his feet. "Look alive! We got a dame coming!"
Immediately, the fighting rogues stopped their brawl, and Mayo turned over to Coyne who in turn had gotten his own knife ready.
"Aha!" declared Mr. Moustache. "A perfect specimen for a moustache!"
"Don't be stupid," replied Signal man who proceeded to even out his cape. "A woman isn't going to be wearing a stupid moustache. So stinky, what are we dealing with?"
Coyne chose to ignore the hurtful comment, and proceeded to relay what he observed.
"About my height, soaked in rain water, and she's wearing a purple jacket. Oh, and she's also barefoot for some reason. But she looked like she was hurting, so she's probably a domestic victim or something. Either way, easy pickings boys!"
"Ah yes! Such sweet and sour sorrow awaits her!" happily declared the Condiment King, earning yet another groan from his teammates due to his horrid joke. Before he could utter another word, the same woman that Coyne had spotted was heard calling out in the alley from the distance. She must have started to follow the sound out of morbid curiosity, which to them would make their situation all the more perfect.