Another day, another body. Mort was where he always at during his day: disguised as a hobo panhandling for coin near the waterfront. He's found a good spot that was both close enough for people to see him, but not in the way for any business that might call the cops to drive him off. He was wearing his usual hobo disguise: thick coat, baggy sweatpants, and beat up military boots. He had a thick bushy beard, long scraggly hair, and cheap plastic sunglasses. And to top it all off; definitely sweaty and stinky. Plenty of lazy bums around the wayside who look trashy and just want a few dollars to get by, but Mort isn't concerned about going whole hog and smelling about as bad as he looked. Of course, getting a couple of quarters and pity dollars isn't his true purpose here. He's got a job to do.

It was a pretty basic job. He sets up shop here, begs for coin, and keep his eyes open for anything important. Usually this meant watching out for some young hero making rounds or some thugs who are getting the idea to start something. It wasn't much but it was honest work, though the pay wasn't really worth much. Frankly Mort's not had much luck getting higher paying jobs: no one's hired him to do any thuggery, bedlams, or heists. Hell even this stool pigeon job was hard to come by; Mort had to forgo his usual contractual obligations just to land the job since, as both he and his employee see, he's pretty disposable if he wants to make a big fuss about it. And frankly, Mort just couldn't risk trying to run any jobs on his own, not while the Titan's are by-and-large running this town. Sure, plenty of gangsters think they're hot stuff and can rob a shop before the cops show up, but this wasn't Gotham: the police here are actually pretty competent at holding the line before the Titan's show up and put down any would-be villain. Mort's seen this happen before in other cities, and he wasn't about to be one of the fools to fall for the same thinking. So here he was, a hobo on the streets, looking for something juicy to happen to earn his keep.

[color=a36209]"Looks like I have at least six dollars so far. That's enough for a single slice of pepperoni. If I can get ten, that's a slice and a soda. I could get half a pie for fifteen if the dickhead over at the Zippy's isn't in shop. But for twenty I can grab two stuffed crusts and a large pop. Now that'll be a treat. Any more than that though and I'll need to save some dough for mats. While I'm good on plastics right now the more the merrier, especially if I really do plan to do a job anytime soon. Here's hoping."[/color] Mort mumbled out loud, just to help cement his hobo aura. A talking bum keeps the more shifty characters from trying and steal from his hat.