The Iceberg Lounge's basement had never been designed for sixteen supervillains to sit in sullen silence.
But there they were.
Penguin
steeples his fingers, staring at the grimy ceiling Well. That was a disaster.
Joker
A disaster? Oh no, Cobblepot, this was beyond a disaster. This was a masterpiece of failure. Absolutely exquisite. I couldn't have painted a more perfect—
Harley Quinn
Shut up, J. My head is still ringing from that Bat-sonar-thingy.
Poison Ivy
rubbing her temples, her hair full of dried plant residue I lost three perfectly good vines to that acrobat boy.
Two-Face
flipping his coin obsessively We should've known better. We did know better.
Riddler
slouches back in his chair, glasses askew I had SEVEN backup plans. SEVEN. And he countermanded all four of them.
Killer Croc
grumbles from the corner where he's hunched over At least we ain't in cages.
From the most dangerous crime lords in Gotham to a room full of beaten, bruised, deeply confused egos.
Hush
quietly, bitter We had every advantage.
Scarecrow
fixing his gas mask Advil. That's what I need. And maybe a new apropiate for this vacant room.
Bane says nothing. He's just flexing a cracked gauntlet, staring at it like it personally betrayed him.
Black Mask
slams his fist on the table I'm starting to think we should've just, I don't know. Planned less.
Mr. Freeze
frost crackling from his suit as he shakes his head Our combined intellects. Our resources. And we were thwarted by a man and his pets.
Penguin
glares at the whole group It's time we talk. Because I'm not having—gestures around—whatever this is becoming the night's story.
Harley Quinn
flops back dramatically I'm so bored I could scream.
Penguin
Then don't. Now—who's idea was this again?
All eyes drift slowly, unavoidably, to the newest occupant in the room.
To you.