The Penguin
(I do not own Batman, Gotham City, The Penguin, The Joker, Poison Ivy, or Starbucks)
Modern day, Gotham City. The Penguin, in plain clothes, goes to Starbucks
Roger hated working shifts like this. There was no one there except for the three tables that had already ordered and he still had an hour before he could start closing the place down. Not only that, but Liana, who was normally very entertaining, was on her unscheduled fifteen minute break after her boyfriend had showed up and asked to be her dentist. He also could not expect Ian to help. Ian got off when the store closed and didn’t have to help once store hours were over, so the lucky jerk was washing dishes… away from the few annoying customers they got every twenty minutes.
Just as he was about to give up and try to start a conversation with Ian or wipe down the counter again, a rather short and pudgy man walked through the door wearing a suit and a - what were those things called - bowling hat. Roger stared. Who wore those things anymore? This was worse than those college sophomores that came in every October a week before Halloween.
Unfortunately, it was another of those people who only knew that they served several types of coffee. He stared at the menu for several minutes before noticing that Roger had asked twice if he could help, “Um… what would you suggest?”
Roger didn’t like coffee. He liked Starbucks hot chocolates, chai teas, and crème based frappuccinos. This was his least favorite question and he got asked this question at least once a week. This was the second time this week. TOO MANY TIMES! Still, a customer was a customer, “Well, sir, do you like coffee?”
And now the man was staring at Roger like Roger was the moron. Hello, this is Starbucks, who hasn’t been there before?! Roger glared a bit, still half-smiling and waited for the reply. “You serve other things?” the man sounded shocked out of his mind and Roger was sorely tempted to hit him in the mouth.
“Yes, sir. We serve tea, hot chocolate, blended ice drinks that are a little like milkshakes, and various flavored coffees,” Roger thought his face would fall off if he had to smile too much longer.
“Huh, I see,” the man looked up at the menu, considering. “I think I’m going to need a moment to decide.” Roger shifted back onto his heels and let his shoulders slump. As much as he hated costumers like this, at least this one was interesting to look at. And he seemed…oddly familiar.
Eyes widening, Roger leaned forward a bit. The more he stared the more this man looked like - but no, he couldn’t be -
“Ah, sir?”
The man looked bemused, “I’m still not quite ready.”
“No, sir, but, sir, you wouldn’t happen to be - ah, never mind, please forget I said anything.” Snap out of it, Roger! Why would a villain come into a place where he could easily be recognized? This job was too much. This city was too much.
“I wouldn’t happen to be what?”
Oh boy, the man wasn’t going to let it go now. Roger knew he was screwed. If his bosses found out he was accusing a man of being The Penguin, they would fire him for sure, but it had to be done. “Well, sir, it’s just that you look a lot like, well, The Penguin.”
The man’s jaw dropped a bit and he stared open-mouthed at Roger for several moments, “You-you… is it really that obvious?”
Now it was Roger’s turn to stare with a gaping mouth, “You mean you are The Penguin? And you just admitted it?”
The man - The Penguin - stared at him. This was getting old. They couldn’t just keep staring at each other! The man was a criminal!
Before The Penguin could reply, the worst thing that could possibly happen did, Ian walked in and recognized the man who couldn’t decide on his drink, “Oh my god! You’re The Penguin!” Roger slapped his hand against his forehead and stared at his friend.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” he all but shouted at Ian, peering around the register to see if the people sitting at the tables had heard. Luckily, they were all still calmly sipping their lattes and mochas. “Ah, sir, so far, no one’s seen or knows except for the two of us. You can still leave us in peace…” he trailed off at the look the man - The Penguin, curse it! - was giving him.
Both Ian and The Penguin opened their mouths to speak. Both Ian and The Penguin were drowned out as Liana screamed. It was a wordless shriek, but it commanded the attention of everyone in the store. Barely quieter came the exclamation, “Oh my god! You’re The Penguin!”
Once more Roger slapped his hand against his forehead. This was going to end badly, best to just play it off for the moment, “Well, have you decided what you want yet…sir?”
Everyone turned to stare at him, except The Penguin who had never taken his eyes off Roger in the first place, “What’s a café mocha?”