Don Al wanders back and forth the idle streets, glancing his watch occasionally, tutting and sighing in between. He places his hands on his hips and looks up at the sky forcing out a deep sigh. Growing agitated, he removes his fedora and scratches his head with frustration. Bored, he peers at his reflection in a nearby shop window, fixing his beard and licking his finger before dabbing his sharp eyebrows in an attempt to tame them against the wind.

Growing too restless for comfort, he enters the shop and buys himself a new pack of smokes before exiting, sparking one up and continuing with his pacing. He walks so much his legs begin to ache, yet gets no further than 20 paces up or down the street. He continues to grow fidgety and fed up - he begins to feel himself become unruly. He was doing everything he could to stay the straight and narrow course he'd set for himself just lately. No longer did he want to be Angry Al. He refused to devolve back into Psycho Al. But he knew for sure... One thing he could NEVER be is Silent Al.

"There has to be another way..." He mutters to himself as he continues marching back and forth. "I can handle you, Psycho Al. You won't get the better of me this time! I refuse to let my temper rule my mind!" He pulls from his cigarette. "I am not a slave to my emotions." He states firmly. "I am in control!" He grits his teeth with conviction. "You don't rule me, brain! I AM FREE of your shit!"

Felson had really opened up a new chapter for Al lately. Had that magic green herb actually fixed this lunatic?! Maybe it was his new-found love Betty who'd changed him. He'd been trying for years to overcome his shadow but something was different this time. Something had progressed within him - something more solid, more permanent - perhaps even stable?! Okay, probably not stable but he could feel it - it was different now. He had evolved. Sure, he was still working tirelessly to overwrite that old programming, it reared it's ugly head on occasion. But he had zeal like never before - that was new. He was dedicated - fixated even - on becoming his better self. His best self! Perhaps for the first time ever... He believed in himself.

He may be actively fighting against the urges of Psycho Al, but he still needed to keep busy. He still had that burning desire to get out there and make his mark, to share his ideals. He couldn't sit by and idly ignore some of the crazy shit that was passed as normal these days. He just had to focus, try harder and approach life with a little more tact. Maybe he'd have to get a little creative.

Al was fighting the urge for psychopathy but also doing his best attempt at not falling into bad habits. Transistor might be growing impressed with the corner he'd turned lately in battling his demons but he refused to let the boss man chalk it all up to drugs. He pulls open his jacekt and looks down into his inner jacket pocket, staring at the half-smoked joint he still had left from his last interaction with Felson.

"No Al... You can do this sober... Just think." He mutters to himself, continuing to pace back and forth. "Fuck it."

Al flicks his cigarette into the gutter, pulls the joint out of his pocket and rushes it to his lips before lighting it up. He takes a long pull, inhaling and holding it deep within the confines of his chest. He closes his eyes, tilting his head back to face the heavens. That first pull was always the best - it was magnificent! He takes a second, keeping his eyes closed throughout. Then a third. It wasn't long until he felt the calming effect tingle down his body and through his limbs. The agitation and angst seemed to seep out of his body, leaving him like steam from a kettle. What a rush. But he didn't NEED to do drugs. He just enjoyed some of the benefits. Al is not a crackhead!

"Aha! I know just the thing to keep me entertained..." The idea hit him like a claw hammer to a big toe - Al winces at the thought. No time to fuck around thinking about Psycho Al's wacky moments now! He had an idea he had to chase before his brain had other ideas!

Don Al hops into his car, Betty the Beetle, and floors it all the way to South Philly, tunes blasting, with his tongue poking out and excitement bursting through his veins! 

It's not long before Al skids the car round the last corner and parks it haphazardly outside Prime HQ. He needed supplies and he was sure Alexa would have just the thing! He dives out of the car, leaving the engine running in his excitement and hurries hastily through the main door, disappearing for a while as he tears the interior of the building apart looking for what he needed.

Suddenly Al tears the main door open, stepping out into the setting sun with his fists fixed firmly on his hips. Wait... Was that Al?! What was he wearing?!

"Don't worry! I'LL save the Streets!" Super Al calls out in his deepest voice, sporting his brand new, amazing attire: a bat suit! He knew he could count on Alexa's fancy dress box!

Super Al grins, running through the streets with his cape flapping wildly in the wind. 

"To the Business Districts!" He exclaims. "I hear there's a wild Joker on the loose!"

Super Al had been tirelessly chasing the scent of this weird Joker fella all day and night. He'd started out in the business districts of desolate Detroit where he didn't find much beyond some left over drinks and idle bartenders looking especially bored. You'd have thought most of those staff would have fucked off after so much time spent doing fuck all. Especially since most of the owners of these businesses were long dead and buried - did these characters just do it entirely out of blind loyalty? What an unusual prospect. Still, was it any different to Al's crazy missions? Why was he bothering with all these theatrics when most of the world seemed to be overly content with just letting the world go down the shitter? He wasn't sure really but it didn't seem to deter him. Something within him just forced him to pursue these crazy ideals. Was anyone even giving a fuck? Was everyone really okay with this basic, generic nonsense being passed off as the mafia life? 

Later in his adventure, Super Al took his action to the busier city of Los Angeles. It wasn't exactly teeming with activity, but where in this world really was these days? He'd made several attempts to get things kick started and still people persisted in only going as far as pretending to give a fuck about this world. Maybe Al was just depressed from running around wasting his time doing nothing but pretending to partake in a desperate attempt to prove his point. Sure, it was low effort to go in a businesses and act out the motions as if you really gave a shit but it was a joyless, soulless activity. Gruelling, even - clearly meant only for those with too little desire or ability to interact with actual effort. It was tough for Al to pretend in the same way.

In a wild turn of events, The-Big-Joker had actually flipped the script and gone on the hunt for Al-Batman. It gave Super Al a little hope - did this mean this guy actually wanted people to enjoy this life with? Was he also disgusted at the lack of life around here, just like Al? Was he in fact lonely and down heartened by the sorry state we've let this world become? 

Or was he simply abusing the terrible situation this world was seemingly stuck in? Was he just carelessly taking advantage of the systems put in place, designed to help this place thrive? Did he care about this world and everything it stood for or did he just care about his own benefits? Did he only care for the rewards that were on offer? 

Was he selfishly serving himself? Or was he attempting to serve the community?

Al was perplexed. So many questions and confusion. This Joker fella sure had some explaining to do. Why didn't he get out here in the Streets and approach the subject?

As far as Al could tell, it was clear as a bell he didn't really give a fuck. It was all a farce! A charade! His appearances within these businesses were brief, half-arsed and seemed to be coming from a place of disinterest rather than inspiration.

Al wasn't worried though - he was a damn superhero right now after all. What would be need to be worried about? He was fearless! 

He'd come to realise however, that this was a big job - too big of a job for one man, even if he was dressed as a bat. What was he even thinking, setting out alone like that? Ridiculous! He had gone out half-cocked, with only half his strength and half his wit! It was dangerous out there... No way he should've been running them districts alone. Anything could've happened to him! He really needed a second half to back him up - the pantomime was simply incomplete without it!

Sometimes the realisation of his actions hit Al a little late - okay, often it was really late if truth be told, but he did always learn eventually... Eventually. But consider this lesson learned because Al was now seen sprinting from the LA business district towards the streets with a plan in his mind.

By this point, he was also frustrated - by a great many things, but specifically... Who the fuck was Joker calling kid? Al had ears everywhere, did he really think he wouldn't find out? That cheeky little bastard was half Al's age! There was just no fucking respect in the youth anymore. No one taught these little shits how to properly act. But Al was beyond punching Goombas and pushing around Wise Guys. He had a bigger idea - it was time to call on Felson!

Al never should have jumped into the situation without him really, it was typical Al behaviour! Rush rush rush, brrrr, hurry hurry hurry, brrrr, go go go! Slow down Al, ya fucking nutjob!

It was time to take it back a step and then step it up a notch! An animated Super Al travelled through the streets with great haste, jumping on a plane before landing in the beautiful streets of Philly. He was headed back towards Prime HQ. Worry not! He had changed his shoes after wearing holes in them and the rest of his costume was just fine - there'd be no surprises for Alexa there!. Nor was he headed back to steal some more of her beans on toast... He was too engaged to be hungry. No, he was on the hunt for Felson!

It was time for the pair to face this problem together, shoulder to shoulder. It was time to march through the swamp and put a stop to this Joker madness! Even if it meant adding a bit of fuel to the fire...

"FEL-SOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!" Al hammered on the door of Prime HQ.

BLAM!

POW!

CRUNCH!

Felson was laying his heels in and all, beating on a guy on the landscaped lawn out the back of Prime HQ. They called him Blue Balls Blue. He was depressing as fuck and desperate as fuck but he kept the garden top notch.

"What did I tell you, huh?"

Blue held up his hand then raised his thumb.

"Best fuckin' kicks on the market. I'll grab you a pair."

The thumb stayed up.

Felson got one more kick in for good measure. He needed to make sure these PF Flyers fit snug for the job that was a-foot.

He reached down towards the gardener, offered his hand and helped the middle-aged man to his feet. He slapped the rake back in his hands, "Same time next week? Got some boots on backorder."

Then the doorbell rang.

Moments would pass. No answer. Then suddenly, a water bomb splashed at Albino's feet. Then another hit the ground close by. And another. Soon they were raining down thick and fast.

Looking up, someone was standing on the roof of the HQ holding onto the chimney. Just like Super-Al, they had donned a costume and with the flick of their wrist a spinning, smoking, flaming card cut through the air. It hit the ground and immediately the gasoline caught fire. A blaze broke out but it looked controlled. It swirled and danced and lit up the street outside Prime HQ.

Felson was wearing some PF Flyers, tight green workout shorts he'd found at Knuckles Knockout Kings and some of Alexa's black leggings. He wore a red sleeveless vest that had yellow buttons down the front and a black face mask that only covered his eyes. Around his neck was a hood ready to be popped, but for now he was content having his undercut on show.

After a mini fireball, Felson could see a large F taking shape around Al-batman below. Then all at once the letter U lit up next to it. The C took another card toss to get it going but once lit, Felson steadied himself and took a leap of faith off the roof. He landed on his feet but cushioned the impact with an army roll.

The caped and masked vigilante walked towards then stopped in front of Albino with his hands on his hips. 

On his red vest where a pocket might be on a suit, he had his call sign and masked crusader alias spelled out in yellow and black stitching, it read... 

F - U - C - B - O - Y

Felson coughed, and coughed again, the fumes a little more hectic than he thought they'd be.

"Shit, we better move!"

Felson removed a puffer that was tucked into his shorts and took a couple of hits, then slid it away again and resumed his pose.