In Sports, When A Teammate Talks Back To Coach, Shows Up Late, Or Makes A Stupid Mistake, Everyone Is

In sports, when a teammate talks back to coach, shows up late, or makes a stupid mistake, everyone is punished, normally through conditioning. Sometimes, the teammate who made the mistake is the only one to sit out so that the team is even more mad at them and they feel guilty; it is better incentive to stop the behavior than if only you were being punished.

Everytime the Justice League does any of the aforementioned bad behaviors (which are a little higher risk when superhero-ing), the entire team has to fight Batman without powers. You REALLY don't want to make stupid mistakes in the Justice League because no one wants both Wonder Woman and Superman annoyed at you.

Greg had been a professional hench for the past ten years. He was well adept in toxins. There were scare toxins, Joker™ toxins, pain toxins, and hallucination toxins. If you could think of something, the underground toxin industry could make it.

Greg, in all his henching, had never seen an inhibitons-lower-ing toxin. He was kind of jazzed (and honored) to be one of the first henches to use it. Especially because he got to use it on the Batman.

By some luck, Greg and two other henches and a goon (Greg didn't like working with goons) had managed to snag the Batman while he had been swinging around and patrolling. They had knocked him out and tied him to a chair and tied that chair to an old fridge and chained that fridge to a support beam in the old warehouse they were in.

Technically, the four of them where not working with anyone at the moment but padding your resume is important when applying for villainous positions. This would be perfect for Greg's 'Special Intel' section and with the job market how it was, you needed all the help you could get.

Greg nodded to his fellow henches and the goon (Goons. Gross) and he picked up the syringe of inhibition-lower-ing toxin that his friend the mad scientist had given him. He injected it in the Bat's neck through the fabric (Obviously he hadn't taken off his cowl, that would be plain rude). Then, Greg punched Batman in the face.

The four of them were excited when the Bat lurched himself forward in his bounds, thankful that the rope and the rope and the chain had worked. Greg, as senior hench on scene, was given the floor to start the questioning. "So, Mr. Batman" he said because he was a professional, "we have some questions for you."

The Bat squinted at Greg (or maybe his cowl was just malfunctioning? It's hard to tell with the weird white eyes) and growled, "What do you want, Greg?"

Okay, that's pretty cool. THE Batman knows his name. Greg, keeping his excitement at bay, questioned, "Why do you do what you do, Mr. Batman?" It was a fairly easy question, something simple to ease them into the interrogation. Nothing too loaded that would bring up anything that would make the Bat hostile.

"My parents were brutally murdered in front of me as a young boy. I promised them Vengeance™." Greg was not expecting that. Everything is cool. Everything is fine.

"Okayyyy, um, why do you work with Robin?" Perfect. Everyone who had seen Batman interact with Robin knew he was fond of the boy and likely his father. This is perfect.

"His parents were brutally murdered in front of him as a young boy. He promised them Vengeance™." How was Batman putting the ™ after Vengeance within conversation? Why did he have a traumatized child working with him? Many questions that Greg was not stupid enough to ask.

He was, however, stupid enough to ask, "Okayyy! Uh, why do you have so many different Robins?" Dear God, Greg was hoping that this would end up better than his previous lines of questioning. Even the goon was looking uncomfortable and he was a goon! The worst of all of Gotham's underbelly.

Batman looked down in sadness? Thoughtfulness? When the Bat looked up, his jaw was clenched. Oh dear. "My son stopped talking to me and my new son wanted to be Robin. Then my son died!" Why did Greg ask? "Then the neighbor kid asked me to be Robin so I wouldn't 'kill myself.'"

Everyone knew there were things you didn't need to see. Like your parents kissing. Or your Uncle dressed as Santa Clause. Or the man who dressed as a Bat and beat you up crying. "Then I was stuck in time and all my kids thought I was dead and my first son was Batman" huh, who knew? "And he made my youngest son Robin and now my second youngest son is angry."

Honestly, it was on Greg. Like, he knew that a person who did what Batman did couldn't be totally stable. But like, he wasn't expecting this! Now he just kind of felt bad for the guy.

The Batman, one of the most feared people in world, was not on truth toxin, he was on inhibition-lower-ing toxin. Meaning he didn't need a question to keep talking. The normally stoic vigilante just wouldn't. stop. taking. "-wanna pinch his chubby, little assassin cheeks when he's pouting!" Seriously, all of this? Miscalculation on Greg's part. One of the henches looked sympathetic while the other two looked like they were reconsidering their lives of crime. Greg was also questioning why he decided to regularly be on the opposite side of Batdad here.

"-the dead one? Less dead! He's the Red Hood now! He thinks I'm disappointed that he kills people but honestly? I understand it. All I'm disappointed about is the fact he hasn't married a nice, Jewish girl yet. I want grandbats! In fact, I was-"

Well, at least Greg could solve this issue. He had worked for the Red Hood a week or so ago (the guy offered good dental) and he had his number.

"What," ground out a voice on the other end of the line, "I'm in the middle of some family stuff." Greg winced at Mr. Hood's tone.

Hopefully he wouldn't be too annoyed that Greg was the reason for family stuff. "Uh, I have your family stuff right here."

The Red Hood (who he had just! cut! off!) went silent before quietly saying in a deadly tone, "I will slowly decapitate every barista who has ever spelled your name right if you don't give him back right now."

Greg, who was named Greg, gulped. That was several people. "You don't understand, Mr. Hood! I don't want him. You can take him before he tells us more about..."

Greg trailed off to hear, "-used to hit me with paper towel rolls and speak only in Hamlet quotes when he was upset!"

Greg spoke back into the phone "your Shakespeare habits."

Red Hood once again went silent. "I'll be there in five." and he hung up the phone. Greg, who had learned long ago that the Red Hood could do all, didn't question how he would get there without an address. Time to listen to more kid stories.

-

"-stealing coffee from the president, if you can picture it! Superman nearly throttled the two of them! But that doesn't compare to how angry he was when he saw what they did with the Queen's Crown. It was-" Greg was actually slightly disappointed when Batman's latest story was cut off by Red Hood kicking open the warehouse. All the other henches (and the damn goon) looked a little sad too.

Greg, who had sat criss cross apple sauce in front of Batman with the other villains, stood up and dusted his pants off. "Hi, Mr. Hood! Here's your dad! Not a scratch on him and the toxin will wear off soon!" Greg said quickly, attempting to walk away.

Hood grabbed him by his collar, "What did you learn about him? What did you-"

The Hood was cut off by a happily wriggling Bat, "My baby! Look at you! I was just telling these nice men about the time you got in an argument with a zookeeper about bats and birds! You were insistent that bats were a type of bird! It was so cute and then you said that she should 'shove her false information up her -'"

Hood cut off his father with a groan. He turned to Greg, "Help me get him out of here and I won't hurt you." Greg was happy to agree.

After cutting the rope and the rope and unlocking the chains, Batman happily threw himself at one of the most prolific murderers of Gotham and picked him up like a baby and started walking out the warehouse. "You know, I wouldn't have to tell total strangers about you if you gave me grandbats to talk to. I know this nice girl, she runs that deli on 23rd street with her grandparents? Anyway, she's single and she goes to-"

Greg and the other henches (and the goon) looked at each other, all conveying a general 'What the ever loving Fuck just happened?" vibe. Greg was pretty sure at least two of them were going to quit crime after that. At least his mad scientist friend would know that the inhibition-lower-ing toxin worked wonders.

Besides, maybe supervillains would want to hear about how many times each Robin had won their schools spelling bee?

I don't think violence should be your first, second, or third response to anything. You should try to come to understandings and should always strive towards peace. In fact, I vie-

Person: There's a Batgirl and Batman shipper!

Me: *cocks Glock* Where?

My therapist: Are you ready to talk about how your dad's love was more conditional for the last few years before his death and, now that he's been dead for the last 6 months, you desperately miss what your relationship was and what it could've become.

Me, hyper focusing on Batman and making him an idealized father figure in my blog: No, thank you :)

Bruce runs a Batman hate account (batman_sucks) Like, it's just a burner account where he's like "Why do we let this goddamn furry run free in our city? He does more harm than good!" (When his kids confronted him about it, he claimed it was another layer between personalities. His kids did not believe him and gave many hugs).

Anyway, he runs into this other account that just! keeps! defending! Batman!

Like, he'll say something about the rise of supervillain crime in correlation with the Bat and this account will show the rise of supervillain crime world wide.

He'll say the Bat is working like an unchecked police force and this account will remind him that the Bat single-handedly cleared up Gotham PD protection.

Once, Bruce makes fun of himself for being one of the only non-metas on the Justice League and this account went onto a 26 reply rant.

(In unrelated news, Clark has decided that batman_sucks is his greatest nemesis)

Barbara, trying to tell her dad that she's Batgirl: I took on a . . . job recently and-

Jim, who totally thinks she's a drug dealer but wants to be a Supportive Dad™: You can't tell me more but know I love you!

Barbara, happy that her dad approves of Batgirl, and Jim, happy his daughter trusts him: ^_^