Post by summersprodigy on Jan 7, 2007 15:40:24 GMT -5
More Then You Know
Today…
“Ok, Mr. Poindexter, two weeks ago, you were apprehended by the police, believed to be involved in the murder and robbery of six people. Do you have anything to say before we begin?”
“…”
“Mr. Poindexter? Excuse me, Mr. Poindexter, agreeing to this interview required that you speak, and pay attention.”
“Oh I am Mrs. Weatherford. Very much so, I was just entranced by your…beauty. Maybe after this we could spend some time getting to know each other, after all, you of all people must know how lonely prison can b-“
“Mr. Poindexter, that is not why I’m here-“
Yes I know why you’re here, you said it three times since you’ve entered the room, my only problem is what you’ve called me since you’ve met me.”
“Do you mean Mr. Poindexter? Isn’t Benjamin Wilber Poindexter your name?”
“Yeah, but I hate it. It’s a name I never chose for myself, it’s a name that represents all I hate, and I despise it. Don’t call me ‘Mr. Poindexter,’ or Ben for that matter.”
“Why? Is it because you consider it your ‘slave name’?”
“Mrs. Weatherford, do I look like a stupid man to you?”
“Well-“
“Am I an idiot?”
“Of course not-“
“Then why would I use stupid reasoning like that?”
“Well, what’s a good reason then?”
“Mrs. Weatherford, my parents named me Benjamin Wilber Poindextor. I think that’s all the reason I need. Any kid would hate to have the name ‘Poindexter.’”
“Poindexter is a fine last name. In stills…intelligence, one that I’m sure fits your unique…skills.”
“I understand that Mrs. Weatherford, and that’s my exact point. Poindexter. Just saying it makes any person think intelligence. It opens up preconceived notions and stereotypes on you, before anyone could even see you. Just hearing your name makes them judge you. Plus, that name holds very…personal memories for me, none of them good.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, as a child, my parents thought I was mentally retarded as I tended to throw things against the wall without any warning. The doctors had no idea why I did it, only that I seemed to have some subconscious rage in me. I don’t know how true that was, since I wasn’t a very aggressive child. I think I threw things against walls just to see how they’d land. Odd yes, but by high school I could predict with pin point accuracy just how something you threw would land and in what position.”
“Well that still doesn’t explain why you do not like your name. Why is it you hate it so much?”
“I don’t hate it per say Mrs. Weatherford. In fact I love my skills, but having a name like Poindexter and being able to accurately throw things to get a certain outcome doesn’t exactly make you very popular in high school, if you catch my drift Mrs. Weatherford.”
“I see your point. What shall I call you then?”
“Just call me what everyone else calls me around here.”
“And what name is that?”
“Call me Bullseye.”
“Ok, Bullseye then, let’s start at the beginning…”
Two weeks ago…
High above the aged rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, its gallant defender the fearless Daredevil soared above, swinging and jumping from each building with acrobatic precision, hence his namesake. Below Daredevil was the figure of a man, running for dear life, but to no avail as the crimson blur of Daredevil pounced upon him, knocking him to the ground, and into unconsciousness. Behind him, red and blue flashing lights were beginning to appear, and Daredevil leaped once again into the darkness.
The officers who arrived were used to this site. Unconscious man with clear evidence of a crime, but no witnesses. Clear work of a vigilante. However, before either could take any action, two shards of glass flew out from the darkness, entering each of the officer’s necks, and out the other end, causing them to fall to the ground. A masked man then emerged from the shadows, a large white circle resembling a miniature dart board on his forehead, two straitened paperclips in his gloved hand, and a demented grin. Picking up the bag full of stolen items from the downed would be burglar, the masked man climbed up a close by fire escape to the rooftop, where he paused to watch Daredevil continue his flight across the many rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen.
“I guess we should begin by asking, what were you doing on top of that rooftop?”
“What do you mean Mrs. Weatherford?”
“I mean, that we have reports on that night that Daredevil was seen in that area. Were you following him? Planning to attack him?”
“I was following Daredevil, yes, but planning to attack him? No.”
“Are you sure? I’ve read your file-“
“Mrs. Weatherford, if you’ve read my file, then you obviously know I’m quite intelligent.”
“Yes, what does that have to do with it?”
“If you’ve ever had a rivalry like the one I’ve had with Daredevil, then you’d know I never planed on attacking him that night.”
“Whys that?”
“Because it would be too short. If you’ve ever hated someone as much as I hate Daredevil, then you’d know killing him quickly is not something I’d want. If I wanted that, the man would have been dead a very long time ago.”
“Forgive me if I don’t quite believe that Bullseye.”
“Mrs. Weatherford, if I wanted I could use my connections to find the real identity of Daredevil. If I wanted I could knock him out, and then shoot him in the head. If I wanted, I could find his address, wait on a near by building, and take him out as he came home.”
“Then why not? You and Daredevil have had this long standing feud for longer then I’ve been in my job, why not end it?”
That’s such an easy question Mrs. Weatherford, I’m disappointed. I don’t do it the easy way, because it would be exactly what it is; easy. That isn’t how I’d like it to be. I’d want his death to be as slow, as painful, and as degrading as possible.”
“That’s very disturbing.”
“But it’s the truth Mrs. Weatherford, no sugar coating about it.”
“Well if you hadn’t planed on attacking Daredevil, then what were you doing following him in the first place?”
“…”
“Mr. Poindex-I mean Bullseye, why were you following Daredevil?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes, that is how I’d like your answer best.”
“Just for the hell of it.”
As Daredevil glided across the skyline, the man known as Bullseye watched intently, the same demented grin spread across him face. Every so often, Bullseye would leap onto the next building, barely keeping up with the man without fear as he rescued a man falling from his burning home, and protected a young girl as she was about to be raped by a group of men, both of which, after Daredevil had moved on, were robbed and killed by Bullseye.
“Why did you kill those people?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you murder those five innocent people?”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call them innocent…”
“What do you mean? Jack Johns was a successful banker-“
“Who was a sampler of child pornography. Just check his laptop, pretty hot stuff…”
“What about Jimmy Kaolouskie? He was a recovering alcoholic, and was about to become a father-“
“Until he decided to become a mugger and rob a woman earlier that night.”
“Well, fine, but how about Julie Putkey? A student, captain of the girls tennis team, honor roll-“
“Who also sold drugs to her fellow students. Check her house if you don’t believe me, particularly in her room, under the loose floorboard.”
“Dare I ask, but…how do you know all of this?”
“Mrs. Weatherford, when you travel in the circles that I do, you meet people like this.”
“Why did you kill them? Why not turn them in?”
“And then what? They’d go to jail where they could socialize with others like them? Come on lady, get real. We all know our justice system doesn’t work.”
“Well, what gives you the right to be both judge and executioner?”
“Are you saying my actions were wrong Mrs. Weatherford?”
“Of course they were! What you did was against the law! You killed innocent people-“
“Innocent?! You call them innocent?! Would you rather the wonderful Mr. Johns meet one of your children in a dark ally? Or maybe you’d rather have nice little Ms. Putkey sell your son some drug that he’ll be addicted to all his life?”
“They may not be innocent, but that doesn’t make them any lesser then you. You done much worse things I’d imagine. You’re a criminal, a villain-“
“Don’t you dare call me that! I am not a villain!”
“What? Excuse me if I don’t follow you.”
“Call me an outlaw, or a criminal, or a vigilante, but don’t call me a villain. To you, a villain is merely one who is evil, or does evil things, but that doesn’t make sense. If it did, we would all be villains.”
“I don’t understand? I don’t believe I’m a villain.”
“Well, I guess you could say that’s what makes you one. A villain is one who is evil, knows they are evil, but doesn’t accept it, and so continues doing evil things. We all have our dirty little secrets Mrs. Weatherford, even the grand heroes you look up to. For that we are all evil. But the ones who are truly villains, the ones you should look out for, are the ones who deny there wickedness, and believe themselves to truly be good. Denying who you really are is the greatest evil.”
“Well doesn’t that make you a villain?”
“Oh no, Mrs. Weatherford, I know I’m an evil man. I know when I die, God will probable send me to hell with everybody else, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just let somebody kill me. That would be dumb. I’m going to fight. I’m going to fight death until someone shoves it down my throat.”
As the night went on, Bullseye watched two potential serial rapists taken down by Daredevil, three car thieves who pretty much are a dime a dozen, and a single mugger. Over all, a slow night, but for Bullseye, a profitable one. Bullseye had carried this pattern on for while, watching Daredevil gracefully taking down a robber, or mugger, or thief, then waiting until Daredevil was long gone, taking any valuables off of the criminals, and finally catching up with Daredevil, only to do it all over again. It seemed so easy that it even surprised him easily he’d been able to keep it up for even this long.
As he came to a stop atop a familiar rooftop, he watched Daredevil, a hotdog in hand that he swiped from a vender, take down a group of armed men, who may or may not have been trying to rob a museum.
As Bullseye watched Daredevil do combat with these robbers, mimicking Daredevil’s moves, and even cheering him on in some moments, Bullseye is momentarily interrupted by a voice behind him which says surprised, “I thought you had a thing against Daredevil?”
Stopping immediately, and turning around with a small grin, Bullseye replied, “Against him? Why no my dear sir I don’t have anything against him. I just want to kill him.”
The man standing before Bullseye was of average height, his body budging with food and muscle, covered in a very expensive looking black tuxedo. His hair was long, and wild, giving him an animalistic look, one that mixed oddly with his expensive suit, which made him appear rich. His name was the Owl, and they had a score to settle.
“You know Mrs. Weatherford? Could I say something before we go on?”
“I don’t see why not, what’s on your mind Bullseye?”
“You know what I hate? I hate the so many misconceptions people have about the so called villains. There evil, there crazy, there not human. I am tired of hearing people on the news, in news papers, even on peoples f**kin TV soap operas, the bad guys are always shown to be out of there f**kin minds!”
“What’s your point? That’s only the public’s opinion-“
“The publics opinion?! The public’s f**kin opinion? What the hell do you people know about what it’s like to be a so called bad guy huh? Do you have any idea what motivates us? What drives us? What keeps us going?”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Gladly. See, we so called villains aren’t stupid. We know perfectly well what we do. Why we do it is a whole other story. Some of us just like doing it, making those the crazies, but others like me; we have a whole other outlook. We do it because we are good at it. We’re good at it, and it gives us the exact life we’ve always dreamed of. The perfect life. The life where the world is at your fingertips and you have no worries. We live the American Dream Mrs. Weatherford, and we want to keep it that way.”
“Yes but you commit crime-“
“Have you ever wondered, Mrs. Weatherford, why a villain like say, myself, would continually go up against a man like Daredevil, knowing full well that in ever battle previous, he has found a way to best me? I mean any sane person would go after some other hero, Spider-Man perhaps, or quit the life all together, but a villain? They go rethink there strategy, get close to beating him, then loose at the last moment because of some kind of mishap or stroke of luck the hero has. What do you think Mrs. Weatherford?”
“I believe villains are driven by there sense of need to prove themselves against the one who has beaten them in the past-“
“A very predictable response, I must tell you, but in reality, you are very wrong.”
“Then what is the real reason then?”
“I doubt you’d ever believe anything I’d say, but I think I’ll say it anyway. Villains are people, and like people we familiarize ourselves with each other, form groups and organizations together, keep up communications with each other, and most of all, plan. Mrs. Weatherford, what if I told you that there were greater things going on then just my most recent encounter with Daredevil, or the newest threat against America? What if I told you that each villain continually went up against the same hero not because they wanted to, but because they were told to? What if all the criminal activity going on was all a distraction, bought and paid for by very powerful people, to distract pretty much everyone from what’s going on right in front of there little faces? What would you say?”
“I’d have to say that it wasn’t believable.”
“So why did you call me here Bullseye?” Owl said in a low rough voice that annoyed the senses like a nail on a chalk board, “I had some major shipments coming in.”
“Oh this won’t take long,” Bullseye replied, “I’m just here to settle our little score.”
“Well make it quick, I’d hate to miss me shipment,” Owl responded, flexing his fists in his pocket, which causes the talons on his hands to draw a small amount of blood from his palm.
Bullseye tossed the bag of stolen goods at Owl’s feet and said, “I want you to build a park.”
“A wa-?”
“A park Owl. I want you to build a park right here in good old Hell’s Kitchen. You know? A little place for the little boys, and little girls to play, hang out, and scratch there little knees, while there parents watch and smile, and chat amongst themselves while-“
“Ok, ok, I get it,” Owl responded, picking up the bag, “but you don’t expect this junk to pay for it all, do ya? How big of a park do you want?”
“Inside there is a piece o paper with my Swiss account number on it. In that account is a million dollars. Use it in any way you please, as long as it is connected to building that park.” Bullseye replied, fists, also clenched.
“Jesus, a mill?” Owl said, “Whose got you doing this? You can’t be doing that on your own will.”
“It’s a favor I’m doing. Just do it Owl. It’s not like it could hurt you right?” Bullseye sad as he prepared to leave, “and don’t go trying to ‘misplace’ my money. I want every penny going into this.”
“Whatever,” Owl replied, “this better make us even.”
“Lets continue on shall we?”
“Sure why not, where were we exactly?”
“Well, lets see. You had just killed and robed those people. I have reports here that you were seen meeting with a crime lord known as the Owl, is that correct?”
“Why yes Mrs. Weatherford, I did meet with him.”
“And what did you talk about?”
“Oh you know guy stuff.”
“Bullseye, our not being honest, we know you gave him your stolen goods, as well as a million dollars.”
“Boy, technology sure is advancing isn’t it? What else do you know? How I wipe me ass?”
“Bullseye, answer the question! What did you do with that money?”
“Why should I? You already know.”
“…”
“What? Oh come on, if you could figure out who I gave the money to, and how much, then you’d probable be able to find out what Owl’s doing with it.”
“…”
“Ok fine, you don’t have to ask, though I know you want to.”
“As what?”
“Why I asked him to build a park.”
“…well?”
“To settle a score. I thought it would be nice to have a park in Hells Kitchen, I mean it is a pretty dismal place.”
“Your lying Bullseye. What it the park for? What are you hiding?”
“Mrs. Weatherford, am I some kind of monster to you? Am I a freak? I’ll have you know mama that I’m a human! I still have feelings ya know! Once in my life when I want to actually do something good, you automatically think I’m up to no good! Oh you want the truth is that it?! Fine, the parks for selling drugs, is that what you want to hear?! We want to catch them when there young so that they’ll be hocked on it forever! We also want to use the place to get kids to make great child porn! Oh yeah, and underground there’s this huge bunker where all villains can get together and have a cocktail while they plan out there next big sinister plan! There, you satisfied?! Guard get me out of here, this interview is over!”
Hours later…
“Haw ya doing Bullseye?” A tall, thin man said from behind a three inch layer of Plexiglas, separating him from Bullseye.
“Foods not bad, though I think I may turn gay before I get out of here,” Bullseye replied, one of his demented grins stretched across his face, “How’s Owl with the park?”
“Great man, great,” the man replied, “business is up 300%. Hell, we almost can’t keep up with demands, its like these kids were waiting for the drugs. I swear, first day, one of our guys was gone for an hour, then came back needing a refill.”
“Good, good,” Bullseye said, smile ever growing, “and the other stuff?”
“Oh yeah, we got a whole new group ready to, ahem, get started acting. Oh and the little club house will be all set by the time you get sprung, which should be soon.”
“Great, well tell Owl we’re even now ok? I don’t owe him a thing anymore.”
“Sure, sure,” the man replied, as he prepared to leave, “but one thing. I heard you got drilled by those interviewers pretty bad. What you say?”
“What do you mean? What kind of man do you take me as?” Bullseye replied grinning even more devilishly, “I told them exactly what they wanted to hear, the truth.”
Today…
“Ok, Mr. Poindexter, two weeks ago, you were apprehended by the police, believed to be involved in the murder and robbery of six people. Do you have anything to say before we begin?”
“…”
“Mr. Poindexter? Excuse me, Mr. Poindexter, agreeing to this interview required that you speak, and pay attention.”
“Oh I am Mrs. Weatherford. Very much so, I was just entranced by your…beauty. Maybe after this we could spend some time getting to know each other, after all, you of all people must know how lonely prison can b-“
“Mr. Poindexter, that is not why I’m here-“
Yes I know why you’re here, you said it three times since you’ve entered the room, my only problem is what you’ve called me since you’ve met me.”
“Do you mean Mr. Poindexter? Isn’t Benjamin Wilber Poindexter your name?”
“Yeah, but I hate it. It’s a name I never chose for myself, it’s a name that represents all I hate, and I despise it. Don’t call me ‘Mr. Poindexter,’ or Ben for that matter.”
“Why? Is it because you consider it your ‘slave name’?”
“Mrs. Weatherford, do I look like a stupid man to you?”
“Well-“
“Am I an idiot?”
“Of course not-“
“Then why would I use stupid reasoning like that?”
“Well, what’s a good reason then?”
“Mrs. Weatherford, my parents named me Benjamin Wilber Poindextor. I think that’s all the reason I need. Any kid would hate to have the name ‘Poindexter.’”
“Poindexter is a fine last name. In stills…intelligence, one that I’m sure fits your unique…skills.”
“I understand that Mrs. Weatherford, and that’s my exact point. Poindexter. Just saying it makes any person think intelligence. It opens up preconceived notions and stereotypes on you, before anyone could even see you. Just hearing your name makes them judge you. Plus, that name holds very…personal memories for me, none of them good.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, as a child, my parents thought I was mentally retarded as I tended to throw things against the wall without any warning. The doctors had no idea why I did it, only that I seemed to have some subconscious rage in me. I don’t know how true that was, since I wasn’t a very aggressive child. I think I threw things against walls just to see how they’d land. Odd yes, but by high school I could predict with pin point accuracy just how something you threw would land and in what position.”
“Well that still doesn’t explain why you do not like your name. Why is it you hate it so much?”
“I don’t hate it per say Mrs. Weatherford. In fact I love my skills, but having a name like Poindexter and being able to accurately throw things to get a certain outcome doesn’t exactly make you very popular in high school, if you catch my drift Mrs. Weatherford.”
“I see your point. What shall I call you then?”
“Just call me what everyone else calls me around here.”
“And what name is that?”
“Call me Bullseye.”
“Ok, Bullseye then, let’s start at the beginning…”
Two weeks ago…
High above the aged rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, its gallant defender the fearless Daredevil soared above, swinging and jumping from each building with acrobatic precision, hence his namesake. Below Daredevil was the figure of a man, running for dear life, but to no avail as the crimson blur of Daredevil pounced upon him, knocking him to the ground, and into unconsciousness. Behind him, red and blue flashing lights were beginning to appear, and Daredevil leaped once again into the darkness.
The officers who arrived were used to this site. Unconscious man with clear evidence of a crime, but no witnesses. Clear work of a vigilante. However, before either could take any action, two shards of glass flew out from the darkness, entering each of the officer’s necks, and out the other end, causing them to fall to the ground. A masked man then emerged from the shadows, a large white circle resembling a miniature dart board on his forehead, two straitened paperclips in his gloved hand, and a demented grin. Picking up the bag full of stolen items from the downed would be burglar, the masked man climbed up a close by fire escape to the rooftop, where he paused to watch Daredevil continue his flight across the many rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen.
“I guess we should begin by asking, what were you doing on top of that rooftop?”
“What do you mean Mrs. Weatherford?”
“I mean, that we have reports on that night that Daredevil was seen in that area. Were you following him? Planning to attack him?”
“I was following Daredevil, yes, but planning to attack him? No.”
“Are you sure? I’ve read your file-“
“Mrs. Weatherford, if you’ve read my file, then you obviously know I’m quite intelligent.”
“Yes, what does that have to do with it?”
“If you’ve ever had a rivalry like the one I’ve had with Daredevil, then you’d know I never planed on attacking him that night.”
“Whys that?”
“Because it would be too short. If you’ve ever hated someone as much as I hate Daredevil, then you’d know killing him quickly is not something I’d want. If I wanted that, the man would have been dead a very long time ago.”
“Forgive me if I don’t quite believe that Bullseye.”
“Mrs. Weatherford, if I wanted I could use my connections to find the real identity of Daredevil. If I wanted I could knock him out, and then shoot him in the head. If I wanted, I could find his address, wait on a near by building, and take him out as he came home.”
“Then why not? You and Daredevil have had this long standing feud for longer then I’ve been in my job, why not end it?”
That’s such an easy question Mrs. Weatherford, I’m disappointed. I don’t do it the easy way, because it would be exactly what it is; easy. That isn’t how I’d like it to be. I’d want his death to be as slow, as painful, and as degrading as possible.”
“That’s very disturbing.”
“But it’s the truth Mrs. Weatherford, no sugar coating about it.”
“Well if you hadn’t planed on attacking Daredevil, then what were you doing following him in the first place?”
“…”
“Mr. Poindex-I mean Bullseye, why were you following Daredevil?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes, that is how I’d like your answer best.”
“Just for the hell of it.”
As Daredevil glided across the skyline, the man known as Bullseye watched intently, the same demented grin spread across him face. Every so often, Bullseye would leap onto the next building, barely keeping up with the man without fear as he rescued a man falling from his burning home, and protected a young girl as she was about to be raped by a group of men, both of which, after Daredevil had moved on, were robbed and killed by Bullseye.
“Why did you kill those people?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you murder those five innocent people?”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call them innocent…”
“What do you mean? Jack Johns was a successful banker-“
“Who was a sampler of child pornography. Just check his laptop, pretty hot stuff…”
“What about Jimmy Kaolouskie? He was a recovering alcoholic, and was about to become a father-“
“Until he decided to become a mugger and rob a woman earlier that night.”
“Well, fine, but how about Julie Putkey? A student, captain of the girls tennis team, honor roll-“
“Who also sold drugs to her fellow students. Check her house if you don’t believe me, particularly in her room, under the loose floorboard.”
“Dare I ask, but…how do you know all of this?”
“Mrs. Weatherford, when you travel in the circles that I do, you meet people like this.”
“Why did you kill them? Why not turn them in?”
“And then what? They’d go to jail where they could socialize with others like them? Come on lady, get real. We all know our justice system doesn’t work.”
“Well, what gives you the right to be both judge and executioner?”
“Are you saying my actions were wrong Mrs. Weatherford?”
“Of course they were! What you did was against the law! You killed innocent people-“
“Innocent?! You call them innocent?! Would you rather the wonderful Mr. Johns meet one of your children in a dark ally? Or maybe you’d rather have nice little Ms. Putkey sell your son some drug that he’ll be addicted to all his life?”
“They may not be innocent, but that doesn’t make them any lesser then you. You done much worse things I’d imagine. You’re a criminal, a villain-“
“Don’t you dare call me that! I am not a villain!”
“What? Excuse me if I don’t follow you.”
“Call me an outlaw, or a criminal, or a vigilante, but don’t call me a villain. To you, a villain is merely one who is evil, or does evil things, but that doesn’t make sense. If it did, we would all be villains.”
“I don’t understand? I don’t believe I’m a villain.”
“Well, I guess you could say that’s what makes you one. A villain is one who is evil, knows they are evil, but doesn’t accept it, and so continues doing evil things. We all have our dirty little secrets Mrs. Weatherford, even the grand heroes you look up to. For that we are all evil. But the ones who are truly villains, the ones you should look out for, are the ones who deny there wickedness, and believe themselves to truly be good. Denying who you really are is the greatest evil.”
“Well doesn’t that make you a villain?”
“Oh no, Mrs. Weatherford, I know I’m an evil man. I know when I die, God will probable send me to hell with everybody else, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just let somebody kill me. That would be dumb. I’m going to fight. I’m going to fight death until someone shoves it down my throat.”
As the night went on, Bullseye watched two potential serial rapists taken down by Daredevil, three car thieves who pretty much are a dime a dozen, and a single mugger. Over all, a slow night, but for Bullseye, a profitable one. Bullseye had carried this pattern on for while, watching Daredevil gracefully taking down a robber, or mugger, or thief, then waiting until Daredevil was long gone, taking any valuables off of the criminals, and finally catching up with Daredevil, only to do it all over again. It seemed so easy that it even surprised him easily he’d been able to keep it up for even this long.
As he came to a stop atop a familiar rooftop, he watched Daredevil, a hotdog in hand that he swiped from a vender, take down a group of armed men, who may or may not have been trying to rob a museum.
As Bullseye watched Daredevil do combat with these robbers, mimicking Daredevil’s moves, and even cheering him on in some moments, Bullseye is momentarily interrupted by a voice behind him which says surprised, “I thought you had a thing against Daredevil?”
Stopping immediately, and turning around with a small grin, Bullseye replied, “Against him? Why no my dear sir I don’t have anything against him. I just want to kill him.”
The man standing before Bullseye was of average height, his body budging with food and muscle, covered in a very expensive looking black tuxedo. His hair was long, and wild, giving him an animalistic look, one that mixed oddly with his expensive suit, which made him appear rich. His name was the Owl, and they had a score to settle.
“You know Mrs. Weatherford? Could I say something before we go on?”
“I don’t see why not, what’s on your mind Bullseye?”
“You know what I hate? I hate the so many misconceptions people have about the so called villains. There evil, there crazy, there not human. I am tired of hearing people on the news, in news papers, even on peoples f**kin TV soap operas, the bad guys are always shown to be out of there f**kin minds!”
“What’s your point? That’s only the public’s opinion-“
“The publics opinion?! The public’s f**kin opinion? What the hell do you people know about what it’s like to be a so called bad guy huh? Do you have any idea what motivates us? What drives us? What keeps us going?”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Gladly. See, we so called villains aren’t stupid. We know perfectly well what we do. Why we do it is a whole other story. Some of us just like doing it, making those the crazies, but others like me; we have a whole other outlook. We do it because we are good at it. We’re good at it, and it gives us the exact life we’ve always dreamed of. The perfect life. The life where the world is at your fingertips and you have no worries. We live the American Dream Mrs. Weatherford, and we want to keep it that way.”
“Yes but you commit crime-“
“Have you ever wondered, Mrs. Weatherford, why a villain like say, myself, would continually go up against a man like Daredevil, knowing full well that in ever battle previous, he has found a way to best me? I mean any sane person would go after some other hero, Spider-Man perhaps, or quit the life all together, but a villain? They go rethink there strategy, get close to beating him, then loose at the last moment because of some kind of mishap or stroke of luck the hero has. What do you think Mrs. Weatherford?”
“I believe villains are driven by there sense of need to prove themselves against the one who has beaten them in the past-“
“A very predictable response, I must tell you, but in reality, you are very wrong.”
“Then what is the real reason then?”
“I doubt you’d ever believe anything I’d say, but I think I’ll say it anyway. Villains are people, and like people we familiarize ourselves with each other, form groups and organizations together, keep up communications with each other, and most of all, plan. Mrs. Weatherford, what if I told you that there were greater things going on then just my most recent encounter with Daredevil, or the newest threat against America? What if I told you that each villain continually went up against the same hero not because they wanted to, but because they were told to? What if all the criminal activity going on was all a distraction, bought and paid for by very powerful people, to distract pretty much everyone from what’s going on right in front of there little faces? What would you say?”
“I’d have to say that it wasn’t believable.”
“So why did you call me here Bullseye?” Owl said in a low rough voice that annoyed the senses like a nail on a chalk board, “I had some major shipments coming in.”
“Oh this won’t take long,” Bullseye replied, “I’m just here to settle our little score.”
“Well make it quick, I’d hate to miss me shipment,” Owl responded, flexing his fists in his pocket, which causes the talons on his hands to draw a small amount of blood from his palm.
Bullseye tossed the bag of stolen goods at Owl’s feet and said, “I want you to build a park.”
“A wa-?”
“A park Owl. I want you to build a park right here in good old Hell’s Kitchen. You know? A little place for the little boys, and little girls to play, hang out, and scratch there little knees, while there parents watch and smile, and chat amongst themselves while-“
“Ok, ok, I get it,” Owl responded, picking up the bag, “but you don’t expect this junk to pay for it all, do ya? How big of a park do you want?”
“Inside there is a piece o paper with my Swiss account number on it. In that account is a million dollars. Use it in any way you please, as long as it is connected to building that park.” Bullseye replied, fists, also clenched.
“Jesus, a mill?” Owl said, “Whose got you doing this? You can’t be doing that on your own will.”
“It’s a favor I’m doing. Just do it Owl. It’s not like it could hurt you right?” Bullseye sad as he prepared to leave, “and don’t go trying to ‘misplace’ my money. I want every penny going into this.”
“Whatever,” Owl replied, “this better make us even.”
“Lets continue on shall we?”
“Sure why not, where were we exactly?”
“Well, lets see. You had just killed and robed those people. I have reports here that you were seen meeting with a crime lord known as the Owl, is that correct?”
“Why yes Mrs. Weatherford, I did meet with him.”
“And what did you talk about?”
“Oh you know guy stuff.”
“Bullseye, our not being honest, we know you gave him your stolen goods, as well as a million dollars.”
“Boy, technology sure is advancing isn’t it? What else do you know? How I wipe me ass?”
“Bullseye, answer the question! What did you do with that money?”
“Why should I? You already know.”
“…”
“What? Oh come on, if you could figure out who I gave the money to, and how much, then you’d probable be able to find out what Owl’s doing with it.”
“…”
“Ok fine, you don’t have to ask, though I know you want to.”
“As what?”
“Why I asked him to build a park.”
“…well?”
“To settle a score. I thought it would be nice to have a park in Hells Kitchen, I mean it is a pretty dismal place.”
“Your lying Bullseye. What it the park for? What are you hiding?”
“Mrs. Weatherford, am I some kind of monster to you? Am I a freak? I’ll have you know mama that I’m a human! I still have feelings ya know! Once in my life when I want to actually do something good, you automatically think I’m up to no good! Oh you want the truth is that it?! Fine, the parks for selling drugs, is that what you want to hear?! We want to catch them when there young so that they’ll be hocked on it forever! We also want to use the place to get kids to make great child porn! Oh yeah, and underground there’s this huge bunker where all villains can get together and have a cocktail while they plan out there next big sinister plan! There, you satisfied?! Guard get me out of here, this interview is over!”
Hours later…
“Haw ya doing Bullseye?” A tall, thin man said from behind a three inch layer of Plexiglas, separating him from Bullseye.
“Foods not bad, though I think I may turn gay before I get out of here,” Bullseye replied, one of his demented grins stretched across his face, “How’s Owl with the park?”
“Great man, great,” the man replied, “business is up 300%. Hell, we almost can’t keep up with demands, its like these kids were waiting for the drugs. I swear, first day, one of our guys was gone for an hour, then came back needing a refill.”
“Good, good,” Bullseye said, smile ever growing, “and the other stuff?”
“Oh yeah, we got a whole new group ready to, ahem, get started acting. Oh and the little club house will be all set by the time you get sprung, which should be soon.”
“Great, well tell Owl we’re even now ok? I don’t owe him a thing anymore.”
“Sure, sure,” the man replied, as he prepared to leave, “but one thing. I heard you got drilled by those interviewers pretty bad. What you say?”
“What do you mean? What kind of man do you take me as?” Bullseye replied grinning even more devilishly, “I told them exactly what they wanted to hear, the truth.”