Born on a Monday

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Years ago...

"Please say it again Daddy." Sarah begged with her large blue eyes.

Cyrus Gold sighed. He could never refuse that little face. "Alright," he said, "but after this you have to go to bed." 

The little girl nodded in response. She rubbed her head into the pillow and waited for her father to begin.

Cyrus sighed again, he could never figure out why she liked this morbid nursery rhyme. He began to say it as he tucked her in: "Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday. Christened on a stark and stormy Tuesday. Married on a gray and grisly Wednesday. Ill on a mild and mellow Thursday. Worse on a bright and breezy Friday. Died on a gray and glorious Saturday. Buried on a baking, blisterning Sunday. And that was the end of Solomon Grundy."

"Thank you, Daddy." Sarah said with a sleepy look in her eyes.

"You're welcome Sweetie," Cyrus said and kissed her forehead, "Sweet dreams darling." He turned knob of the oil lamp on the bedside table to a small glow and walked out of the room closing the door softly behind himself.

Cyrus walked past his own bedroom and peered in on his wife already asleep in bed. Good. She wouldn't hear him leaving and try to stop him. 

The truth was, this apparent "family man" was involved in some shady dealings around this small city called Gotham. But tonight, he had a meeting tonight with Mr. Cobblepot. He was getting out of this business. He already had a legitimate job lined up and all he had to do was give his resignation to Mr. Cobblepot and he was a free man.

Cyrus left his house and walked down the street. It was an unusually cold night tonight. A black automobile was running on the corner, he opened the door and got into the back seat. The driver didn't say a word as he began to drive.

The ride seemed to take forever, but they finally pulled down the road through Slaughter Swamp. It was an official name that it gained from being a dumping for the local crime organizations. Cyrus didn't care to wonder how many of the bodies he had personally contributed. 

The car pulled up to the small to the small bit of grass that bordered the large bog in the middle of the swamp. Cyrus got out of the car and looked out into the bog. The way the algae grew, it almost looked like a field that he could walk across, with scattered dead trees that could almost be jutting from the earth. But Cyrus knew  that it was just deep murky water underneath.

Another car pulled up behind the one that had brought Cyrus. He turned to see the back door open and Mr. Cobblepot emerge from the back door. Chesterfield Cobblepot was from one of Gotham's prominent familes. Cyrus suspected that the Cobblepot fortune was made over years of crime and greed, but the rest of the upperclass either didn't notice or ignored it. 

Chesterfield Cobblepot  seemed out of place in the disgusting swamp. He wore one of the finest suits that Cyrus had ever seen and a fur lined coat, and as always, a large top hat and cane with a head shaped like a bird. He was a tall slender man with a certain air about him that commanded great respect.

"Hello, Mr. Cobblepot." Cyrus said taking off his hat out of respect.

"Good evening, Mr. Gold." Mr. Cobblepot responded. "I understand you had something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Cobblepot." Cyrus said nervously.

"Well then, come come good man, what is it?"

"Well, umm, you know I've worked for you for awhile Mr. Cobblepot." Cyrus fumbled with the hat in his hands. "But I've got a family now and this job is a little more risky than I'd like it to be. I just want to set a good example for my daughter, y'know sir."

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⏰ Last updated: Feb 05, 2012 ⏰

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