[color=darkslateblue][b][i]"So an Australian, a Scotsman and a Yank walk into a bar..."[/i][/b][/color] [hr] [sup][h1][center][img]https://static1.cbrimages.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/the-flash-rogues-are-some-of-comics-best-villains-and-deserve-their-own-series.jpg[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] S U P E R I O R R O G U E S[/color] [color=red]S U P E R I O R R O G U E S[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup] [hr] [color=darkslateblue][b][i]"Wait-- wait... that's not right. A bank. An Australian, a Scotsman and a Yank walk into a bank. That's even better. Rhymes."[/i][/b][/color] [color=limegreen][i]"Except I'm not Scottish."[/i][/color] [color=darkslateblue][b][i]"Y'r jokin' me..?"[/i][/b][/color] [color=limegreen][i]"Nope."[/i][/color] [color=darkslateblue][b][i]"But y'r name's Mac bloody Gargan."[/i][/b][/color] [color=limegreen][i]"Yup."[/i][/color] [color=darkslateblue][b][i]"Not even second generation..?"[/i][/b][/color] [color=limegreen][i]"Nope."[/i][/color] [color=darkslateblue][b][i]"But you cut out every round before it's your shout... what y'r tellin' me is that you're just a cheap bloody Yank?"[/i][/b][/color] [color=limegreen][i]"..."[/i][/color] [color=darkslateblue][b][i]"Right... the Scottish Defamation League'll have your guts for garters, mate. Passin' yourself off as Scottish when you're just a tight Yank, exploitin' expectations with that name..."[/i][/b][/color] [color=limegreen][i]"Is there a Scottish Defamation League..?"[/i][/color] [color=darkslateblue][b][i]"It's the 2020s. There's a Defamation League for everybody. Every bludger's gotta be offended all the time."[/i][/b][/color] [color=darkslateblue][b][i]"Right... An Australian, a Yank, and a slightly more difficult Seppo bastard go into a bank... Bloody Yanks, can't just go along to get along, can ya?"[/i][/b][/color] [hr] [color=slategray]Fred Myers, Mac Gargan and Herman Schulz are waiting in line at a bank. There's five teller counters but only two people working behind them. And one of the two manned counters has a "Sorry, Next Teller Please" sign in front of them. Fred Myers is tapping his feet in frustration. Mac Gargan is growling lowly in frustration. Herman is standing at the front of the line, and checking all of his possessions to make sure he's ready for when he gets served. [color=red]"[/color][color=gold]Mask... gauntlets... bag with a dollar sign on it...[/color][color=red]"[/color] [color=darkslateblue][b]"Come! On!"[/b][/color] Fred cries out in frustration. At the front of the line a pensioner in an electric scooter is counting out pennies, to be deposited in her grandson's account, whilst the teller looks half-asleep. [color=limegreen]"I keep telling you... these places are torture these days. They don't employ anyone, and the only people who actually go to the bank these days are people you really wish wouldn't."[/color] Fred walked past Mac, grabbed the bag off of Herman and kept walking. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Right, I think we can move this along a bit..."[/b][/color] He walked up to the front of the counter. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Move. Now."[/b][/color] [color=mistyrose]"Now you've gone and made me lose count."[/color] She pushed the pennies back to one side, and slowly started counting again. The teller visibly longed for death's sweet release. Fred took another step forward and swept all of the pennies off the counter and into the small bag. [color=darkslateblue][b]"You're done now. Leave before I club you into unconsciousness with Little Timmy's inheritance."[/b][/color] She scowled at the intrusion. [color=mistyrose]"It's Billy. And its his birthday money."[/color] [color=darkslateblue][b]"I. Don't. Care. And it's over there now."[/b][/color] With a flick of his wrist, befitting one in his line of work, he flung the bag of pennies across the room, where it spilled, scattering many. She held eye contact with him for a few seconds of standoff, before the scooter beeped as it began to back up, never taking her eyes off of the obnoxious man. [color=white]"Thank you."[/color] The teller said, tears of joy welling in the corners of his mostly dead-appearing eyes. [color=white]"Now how can I help you today?"[/color] The other two joined Fred at the now free counter. [color=darkslateblue][b]"We're here to make a withdrawl."[/b][/color] Fred said with a leer, joined later in kind by the other two. Mac liked leering, he was good at it. And Herman was always a Heck of a team player. [color=white]"Absolutely, sir. Just fill this out..."[/color] The teller produced a stack of dusty forms from behind the counter, blowing dust off of the top one, before presenting them with the form for a withdrawl. His creased mouth almost dared to turn into a smile. They didn't get many people coming INTO a bank to make a withdrawl anymore. ATM's had taken most of that out of his role, he was almost excited to see how this would go. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Wait-- no. You don't seem to understand."[/b][/color] Fred said, holding up Herman's bag with the dollar sign on it. The teller took a few seconds to consider what his meaning could be, before it finally hit home. [color=white]"Oh, of course sir. You want some baggies for depositing change as well... Just a moment."[/color] He pulled a roll of little plastic bags held together with a rubberband and slid them across the counter. Fred sighed and took out a pair of boomerangs and starting to gesticulate and twirl them in explanation. [color=darkslateblue][b]"No, you're still not getting it. What I'm saying is, This is one of thoooose... 'unofficial' withdrawls."[/b][/color] He made quote marks with the boomerangs. [color=limegreen]"The kind where we take your money and don't fill out any paperwork."[/color] [color=red]"[/color][color=gold]I'll take a hand full of that candy you keep on standby for when people bring their kids in as well... and if you've got any of those gold chains you have for tying pens to your desks, we'll take those too.[/color][color=red]"[/color] The teller took a few seconds to consider what he was being told, before it finally clicked. [color=white]"Ohhhh! A robbery. That's what you're saying this is!"[/color] Fred tapped one of the boomerangs against his forehead. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Yeees... There it is."[/b][/color] [color=white]"Sure thing. We got told we're not to put up any resistance during a robbery, no point getting staff-- well, you know... just a second. We have a procedure for this.[/color] [color=darkslateblue][b]"THANK YOU! Now we're getting somewhere. Can honestly say, wish we had more places which cared about their workers who-- what've you got there?"[/b][/color] [color=white]"Standard Operating Procedures manual... told you, we have a procedure. Now, I'm to inform you that nobody here can access the safe, it's on a--"[/color] [color=darkslateblue][b]"Ti[/b][/color][color=limegreen]mel[/color][color=gold]ock.[/color][color=red]"[/color] The three said in unison. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Yep, this is all fairly standard."[/b][/color] [color=white]"Okay, told you that... no, don't need to repeat it in espanol... skip that... This is just about money right, it's not an internal domestic dispute between yourselves and any coworkers here..?"[/color] The three just looked at him with a bored expression. [color=white]"Okay, we can skip all of this section too, then. This is good. Streamlined... Okay, so it says now that I--"[/color] Heavy roller shutters slammed down cutting them off between the tellers and the trio. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Hey! Hey!"[/b][/color] [color=white]"Oh! Oh no! Was that supposed to happen? There's a button here it says I'm supposed to press. Wait-- it says there's another button I'm supposed to press, here. Maybe that means I'll be able to see you again--?"[/color] [color=darkslateblue][b]"No! Stop hitting buttons!"[/b][/color] An alarm suddenly started blaring out. [color=white]"Oh. Ow. That's really loud, isn't it? Is that supposed to be happening?"[/color] [color=red]"[/color][color=gold]We probably should have told him to skip any steps that say to press buttons...[/color][color=red]"[/color] [color=darkslateblue][b]"Yes, cheers Shock', very helpful..."[/b][/color] The alarm continued to blare. This was taking too long, Fred was beginning to find his enjoyment for the situation waning. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Scorpion, make y'rself useful with that stumpy tail, and let's get to the safe crackin'."[/b][/color] Mac tore through the teller counter's with a swing of his club tail. He stood in the wreckage gasping, looking to regain control of his faculties. Ever since the suit had been cybernetically grafted to his nervous system, its use would add to his rage. Overuse could result in his being consumed by it altogether. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Nice, Scorp', smoko time f'r you though, mate. We'll take it from here."[/b][/color] Fred flung a boomerang into the seam of the safe with pinpoint precision. It flashed a few seconds before detonating. Leaving superficial damage to their side of the safe. [color=darkslateblue][b]"You're up, Shock. Least til Scorp's taken his five."[/b][/color] Herman let the safe have it with his gauntlets, targeting the point Fred had exposed. Soon the safe broke open, the door falling away from the wall altogether. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Bloody rippa! I'll check on our wheelman, you two get on the money. We should be down to six minutes, since the alarm."[/b][/color] Mac and Herman started relocating the contents of the safe over to near the front door. Bags of cash, bearer bonds, investment gems and other valuable goods, were carried away. Fred returned, and watched as their work was almost complete. [color=white]"Stand down! Drop your weapons! Police! Freeze!"[/color] An officer with a handgun called for their surrender. Fred raised a single eyebrow. Herman turned to face. Mac stepped in front of Fred with a growl, as the trio took formation. [color=white]"I-- I-- I said [b]STAND DOWN[/b]!"[/color] The officer wavered, far less certain of himself. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Y'r in the wrong place, at the wrong time, copper. Blind Freddy could tell ya that."[/b][/color] [color=white]"I said put [b]'EM UUUP[/b]!"[/color] Suddenly the car burst through the front of the bank, slamming into the officer, and sending him careening through the bank into the blasted hole in the teller counter. [color=darkslateblue][b]"But then Blind Freddy can see 'round corners... Right, officer's here early, our schedule's off! Time to blow, gents! Shock' Grab the money!"[/b][/color] The driver wore a dark motorcycle helmet and didn't aid in moving the goods. He had his job, he knew it, he was good at it. James Beverley - Overdrive. The police burst onto the scene and drew down. Gunfire was rife. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Oi! Shocker! Make with the dosh! Time to cash out!"[/b][/color] Herman saw the bags by the floor and quickly made his choice. [color=red]"[/color][color=gold]Alright! Got it! Go! Go! Go![/color][color=red]"[/color] The wheels of the augmented car spun rapidly as it cut a major burnout before blasting back out of the hole it had left in the bank, it's speed far beyond the capabilities of the local authorities to catch. Officers radio'd a description of the vehicle, but thanks to James Beverley's technopathic capabilities, it no longer matched the car's description in three blocks time. Let alone after another eight. The generic van pulled to a stop at the agreed upon point. The foursome left on foot, walked through back alleys, carrying the take. Safe in the knowledge they'd left the authorities well behind them. [/color] [hr] [color=royalblue][b]"So an Aussie, a Scotsman and a Yank walk into a bar, right?"[/b][/color] [color=yellow]"Is this about--?"[/color] [color=slategray]Asked the Trickster. [color=orange][b]"Aye, that it is. That it is."[/b][/color] Replied McCulloch.[/color] [center][img]https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/4/47/Rogues_01.jpg[/img][/center] [color=royalblue][b]"So anyway, an Aussie, a Scotsman and a Yank walk into the bar... there was probably a nutcase there too, Trick, let's face it, there generally is."[/b][/color] [color=orange][b]"Gargan's no Scot, by the way..."[/b][/color] [color=royalblue][b]"You're takin' the piss, right? His name's Mac Gargan. You're tellin' me he's not bloody--"[/b][/color] [color=deepskyblue]"It's not really important to the story. Just let him finish."[/color] [color=royalblue][b]"Cheers Len'. At least someone's got an appreciation for a good bleedin' yarn, cob'."[/b][/color] [color=royalblue][b]"So's anyway, these four jokers go stumblin' into that bar they have over in the Big Apple..."[/b][/color] [color=orange][b]"Wait-- four-- where'd the fourth one come in?"[/b][/color] [color=deepskyblue]"Let it go, McCulloch."[/color] [color=royalblue][b]"Well, the other Yank."[/b][/color] [color=orange][b]"Yeah, Mac Gargan. That's still only three."[/b][/color] [color=royalblue][b]"No, not-- Look, he was drivin' the bleedin' car. An Aussie, a Scot who's apparently not a Scot, a Yank... and a fourth bleedin' Yank who'd been drivin' the car. Are ya happy now? Ya couldn't just let it go?"[/b][/color] [color=royalblue][b]"So's anyway..."[/b][/color] [hr] [color=slategray]Fred, Mac, James and Herman pull up the four stools by the bar. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Drinks on us, boys! Just had a Hell of a bloody haul today! Pay the man, Herman! Cheers, Blue. The usual for me and... I guess whatever their usuals are as well, I don't know whatcha drink, that's his job!"[/b][/color] Herman took a small bag out and started counting out pennies to pay for their drinks. [color=darkslateblue][b]"Oi! Whaddaya call this, are you-- Herman... Herman, where is the bloody cash?"[/b][/color] [hr] Captain Boomerang gestured with his arms out, a wide grin upon his face and his palms wide open as if waiting for approval over the whole story. [color=yellow]"I don't get it... Maybe I'm crazy--"[/color] [color=royalblue][b]"Yo[/b][/color][color=orange][b]u a[/b][/color][color=deepskyblue]re."[/color] [color=yellow]"--but what happened to the money?"[/color] [color=royalblue][b]"Well..."[/b][/color] [/color] [hr] [color=slategray]Alone in the bank, with a line of twenty exaperated people behind, and large strings of police tape sectioning off damage parts of the bank, a single elderly figure in a scooter counts off individual bills to deposit in her grandson Billy's account. [color=mistyrose]"Twenty thousand, seven hundred and fifty five... twenty thousand, seven hundred and sixty... twenty thousand, seven hundred an--"[/color] [color=pink]"OH COME ON LADY!"[/color] [color=mistyrose]"--Now you've made me lose my place... Fifty... One Hundred... One hundred and--"[/color] The teller sobs behind the cashier's desk.[/color]