*thwack thwack thwack
Tommy's knuckles pounded against the heavy punching bag in front of him. He was practicing combos, jabs, hooks, uppercuts. He needed to get better. Stopping for a moment, he re-watched the instructional guide on Youtube. He incorporated a kick into his routine.
*Boom! Boom! Boom!
The bag swayed from the impacts of Tommy's shin. He was breathing heavily, sweating profusely, but he did not stop. He attacked the bag, striking it viciously, learning to fight. He wasn't going to be beaten up again like he had been by Roxy Rocket.
*knock knock knock
Someone was banging on the door. Tommy didn't pay attention to it. The knocks came again, louder, but Tommy kept plugging away at the punching bag. Finally, a voice called out through the door.
"Dammit, Tommy, I know you're in there!" It was Tommy's super. "You're a month late on rent. If I don't get it by the end of the week, you're gone!" One final bang came as the super slammed the door with the flat of his palm.
Tommy continued to ignore him. Why should Batman care about rent? Tommy had more important things to worry about. His job at ACME Chemical had long been a memory; Tommy was much too busy stalking the streets at night fighting crime to have gotten another job. Batman was his job.
And so far he hadn't done a very good job, he admitted to himself. Sure, he had gotten lucky a couple times in every sense of the word, but he hadn't actually stopped very many criminals. Getting Catwoman arrested had been an accident and everyone else Tommy had interacted with had gotten away. Being humiliated by Roxy Rocket had been the final straw. From now on, Tommy was going to fight crime first, fuck second.
*foom!
A final kick sent the heavy bag flying almost up to Tommy's head. Tommy turned away and headed for a quick shower. He needed to get to work.
***
Dressed in his now-familiar Batsuit, Tommy patrolled the streets of Gotham. He had already stopped two lowlifes from accosting some well-meaning citizens of Gotham. Tommy was pretty proud of himself. He had easily avoided the criminal's attacks, slammed them with some surprisingly powerful punches and left them tied up for the police.
He had even gotten some intel; slamming the 2nd hoodlum against the wall, Tommy had gotten a name out of him: "Scarface." Tommy hadn't heard of this criminal before (he kept meaning to Wikipedia Batman's villains but kept forgetting) but he sounded dangerous. From the way the hood described him, Scarface controlled all the organized crime south of the docks. Tommy would have to be on his toes. Tommy headed for the night club the 2nd crook had stammered out: the Ventriloquist Club.
Tommy landed atop the building across the Ventriloquist Club and looked down to get a sense of what he was up against. From what he could tell, there were 2 armed guards on the roof of the building, 1 more around back, 1 unarmed but giant guard watching the door, and who knows how many inside.
Tommy prepared himself for battle.
***
The last guard fell with a thud. Tommy looked around, checking to see if any more guards had arrived. There were none. Tommy thought that he had what turned out to be an exceptional strategy: he had first flown onto the roof of the Ventriloquist Club and knocked out the 2 guards one at a time with a chokehold he saw online; then he threw a batarang to distract the guard in the back before descending on him with a diving attack; finally, he incapacitated the front guard by dropping directly on his head. Tommy pulled all the guards into a secluded spot on the side of the building and tied them up. Tommy was thrilled, having taken out all the guards outside without being seen. He quickly did a small fist pump before heading inside the club.
Tommy admired the foyer he found himself in. High-ceilinged and with ornate moulding, the club was clearly very old and distinguished. It had dark red walls and faded gold leaf decorations. Along the far wall was a tall painting of a ventriloquist and his dummy. Tommy crept deeper inside the club.
Suddenly, Tommy heard a deep voice echoing farther inside. He pushed himself against the wall and listened.
"-Have to tell you one more time, ya dumb broad, I'm gonna throw you in the river! I want 55th Street's payments by Noon tomorrow!" The voice was deep and full of anger. Tommy guessed that it was Scarface. He sounded big.
"Yes sir, Mr. Scarface," a meek female voice responded.
"You, Mugsy! Take these two idiots over to Penguin and secure that shipment of guns I wanted from him," The deep voice continued. A male voice said, "Yes, sir." Tommy heard footsteps; men were heading towards him to go out the door. He quickly opened the door to a side room and snuck inside. After the steps had gone out the door, he returned to the foyer. As near as he could tell, he now had Scarface and his assistant alone.
'Time to strike,' Tommy thought to himself. He crept deeper inside the club and peered around the corner.
He was looking at a small theater, presumably for whatever acts Scarface wanted on that night. The seats were high-backed and lined with thick velvet. In the front, a small stage was visible, with the curtains currently drawn. Tommy looked for Scarface but couldn't find him; he could only see the back of Scarface's assistant as she sat in the front row. She was a blonde. Tommy snuck behind the last row of seats and waited for Scarface to show himself.
As Tommy was doing this, the voices continued.
"-know what I'm gonna do with you, Sugar. You screwed this one pretty bad," Scarface said, dressing down his assistant. The assistant seemed scared.
