Do you know what happens when someone's so rich they can do whatever they want?
They tend to try and live out their childhood fantasies.
I took a swig out of my hip flask. Mel wouldn't like that I'm drinking, but considering what I'm looking at, I think she'd be okay with it.
I used to love the old Batman comics. Especially those old ones where Gotham city looked like a toybox with all those neon signs and bobbleheads on the rooftops. Batman always saved the day.
But what happens when the rich emotionally stunted jackass tries to bring that stuff to life, then traumatizes a bunch of mental patients into believing they ARE those villains, and giving them seed money so they can start their own criminal enterprises?
You get a lot of corpses.
You get someone's guts strung along the city Christmas tree like tinsel while someone with charred legs flies around trying to set it on fire while an Argyria looking fucker has convulsions because he thinks he's overheating, when all he needs is to stop taking those damn silver nitrate pills.
See, in comics, there's only one villain of the week/month. You got special bad guy team-ups, but those are rare. And it's not like they're running scams in parallel without knowing about each other, and not all at once, that'd be too much.
The dumbass got himself killed on back in June on week 3 of his little joyride with our town, no one could prove.
But lucky us, now we have to deal with all his leftovers.
I was his "Commissioner Gordon" I guess. I tried taking him out, non-lethally of course, and that pissed "Knightman" off so much he gave me a concussion that took me two weeks to recover from, and I STILL get headaches. Both kinds, because after that his "Real Life" persona pulled his funding from the department.
Without that, I could either cut hours, cut people, or supplies.
With all the maniacs on the loose, we needed the supplies, and we needed to make sure we were active 24/7.... so I put myself in the field too, trying to make up for the choices.
They were never that hard to track down.
Turns out mental patients aren't that great at hiding their tracks. They're just... scared. Confused. I make sure the asylum is on tap for these calls, and they generally make sure things go okay.
But there's THAT one patient who we can't track down. The only one who took that seed money and RAN with that monster's vision.
The one who seems to enjoy putting me in the situations where I have to either humiliate myself or risk seeing my own team lose actual limbs.
And Mel says I shouldn't drink.