Riddle me this Riddler
[OOC: continues from http://community.livejournal.com/gotham_ft/6127.html?#cutid1 - with puzzleprince approval.]
Jason has a way with cars. Always had. That's how he caught daddy's attention, right? By stealing his tyres.
[no, that's not how it went. It's all wrong. We were an acrobat, remember? The circus. The Flying Todds. And someone snuffed our parents out.]
[Dickie's the acrobat. I'm just another piece of shit in the sewers. Now shut the fuck up. You're making my head hurt.]
While B was blowing off Eddie on the rooftop of the Gotham Hall, Jason was down in the alley, monitoring their conversation and messing the Riddlermobile up. Or the Nygmamobile. Or whatever it's called.
When the Riddler found out that his car had been tampered with, Jason heard him curse for about ten minutes in his earphone. All cussing, no riddles, nor puns. Funny.
Ten minutes is an awful lot of time in Gotham City. Anything can happen.
In ten minutes a freakish clown with a crowbar can mincemeat your brains and blow you to smithereens.
[... that's not how it went! THAT'S NOT! That was YOU! Not US!]
[Haven't I already said to shut the hell up?]
In ten minutes you can knock out a Paki, steal his cab and appear in front of a furious and footed Nygma, who wants nothing but to go for a drink at the Iceberg Lounge.
Five minutes of pointless driving around suffices to distract the poor thing.
But only three minutes are needed to make a sudden detour, slam on the breaks, make the fucker's face smash into the plexiglass barrier, get out of the car, open the back door, level the gun to his face and say:
"Hi Eddie. Riddle me this. What wears green and has both arms broken?"
Jason has a way with cars. Always had. That's how he caught daddy's attention, right? By stealing his tyres.
[no, that's not how it went. It's all wrong. We were an acrobat, remember? The circus. The Flying Todds. And someone snuffed our parents out.]
[Dickie's the acrobat. I'm just another piece of shit in the sewers. Now shut the fuck up. You're making my head hurt.]
While B was blowing off Eddie on the rooftop of the Gotham Hall, Jason was down in the alley, monitoring their conversation and messing the Riddlermobile up. Or the Nygmamobile. Or whatever it's called.
When the Riddler found out that his car had been tampered with, Jason heard him curse for about ten minutes in his earphone. All cussing, no riddles, nor puns. Funny.
Ten minutes is an awful lot of time in Gotham City. Anything can happen.
In ten minutes a freakish clown with a crowbar can mincemeat your brains and blow you to smithereens.
[... that's not how it went! THAT'S NOT! That was YOU! Not US!]
[Haven't I already said to shut the hell up?]
In ten minutes you can knock out a Paki, steal his cab and appear in front of a furious and footed Nygma, who wants nothing but to go for a drink at the Iceberg Lounge.
Five minutes of pointless driving around suffices to distract the poor thing.
But only three minutes are needed to make a sudden detour, slam on the breaks, make the fucker's face smash into the plexiglass barrier, get out of the car, open the back door, level the gun to his face and say:
"Hi Eddie. Riddle me this. What wears green and has both arms broken?"