Ok, so maybe I mixed the knock out gas too strong... Penguin and I have been playing fucking chess for three hours now. He's actually a formidable opponent. You can tell he's definitely played a game or two. I can't help wondering if that's because he's from old money and they taught him the gentleman's game. Or if his skill comes from countless hours of boredom locked up in Arkham.
"I think you mixed the gas too strong," the Penguin says glancing at his watch before moving his rook.
I nod as I study the board, "Yes, yes it would seem so. My apologies," I twirl my wrist. I knew there were probably a million things he'd rather be doing than sitting here playing chess with me.
"So which brother taught you how to play chess?" The Penguin watches me deciding my next move.
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"J," I simply say.
"I can tell," he smiles, "you play like him."
"Oh?" I cock a shaved brow, "it seems that puts me at a disadvantage," I say moving my bishop.
"No, on the contrary, J is a completely unpredictable player. You never know what kind of crazy ass move he might make. Anything from keeping his king baracaded by pawns to sacrificing his queen. And he usually always beats me. So it's likely me who's really at the disadvantage here," the Penguin shrugs and turns the board for a better look at his playing field.
Just then the door flies open and One of Penguin's men staggers in and falls flat on his face. Frost pulls his gun faster than an old west gun slinger to protect me.
"Bossss...mmm...yoooo oook?" The Penguin's goon grumbles as he tries to get up.
He looked fucked up. I might be a little to blame for that... "It's ok Frost," I hold my hand up, "stand down." He slowly lowers his gun off Penguin's man.
"Butch!" Penguin seems surprised and then turns to look at me, "What the fuck did you put in that gas?"
I nip at my bottom lip in thought as I watch his henchmen pull himself along the floor. "Uh, maybe I got a couple of things mixed up...I don't know, shit. J's the fucking chemist Joker, not me," I shrug. "I guess you should be happy he's alive. Besides, it looks like he feels pretty damn good," I motion at him slithering on the floor. "Is this the man I need to talk to?"
"Uh, yeah," Penguin nods, "but I don't know if you will get much out of him like this."
"Frost, would you please help Mr. Butch here to a chair?" I sigh.
Frost struggles to get Buch onto his feet and drapes his arm around his shoulder. He then practically has to carry him to a chair. He drops Butch down in the seat and starts to straighten his suit. I rise to my feet and sauntered over to the man for a better look. Penguin follows.
I raise his chin and I sware to God his pupils are going in circles. Yeah. I definitely mixed something wrong. I turn to Penguin, "Give him a bump of coke."
