The Coolest Chemical Cat (And Chick!) in Town

His eyes narrowed instantly, the Hell did…

"No. No, I won’t go along for this- this is preposterous!"

This wasn’t any face- this was his FATHER’S face- this face held significance- held IMPORTANCE. He wasn’t about to go to court over infringement- his entire life was built into his trade- and his trade focused around things that included projects like his mask. Not to mention the sentimental value-… wait a minute.

"… wait, what?"

"Call ‘er a babe again, I dare ya," he hissed, jaws never parting as he spoke, but instead clenched tight and grinding as he tried his best to hold back a snarl. Keep temper - don’t be an animal. Make father proud.

She thought it time to step in now, the sledgehammer she had cracked Rex with dragging as she walked, scraping against the cement. ”It’s alright, brother dear - his words are hardly worth my getting flustered over… hardly worth our time at all.” She observed Rex now, eyes wandering over him, evaluating. She wasn’t sure of who he was, but despite a few physical flaws here and there (he wasn’t that much of a looker), she had a feeling that his body would sell for a high price on market. She also had a feeling that some collectors would probably be MORE than happy to pay a pretty penny for him if he was someone in pursuit of Father… and that foot coil thing wasn’t exactly normal either, was it?

"Well, perhaps he is… but just not in this state. Do me a favor, darling brother? Hold him there. Let’s just…" She hoisted the sledgehammer from the ground now - resting it on her shoulder, readying another blow. "…Shut him up for a little while, shall we?"

"Sis, ya read my mind…"

This, of course, was all just a fancy way of saying that when a 30-pound brick of steel bound to a flimsy wooden handle completes its arc against a newly-converted 100% titanium cranium… well, something’s got to give. The tool rippled on impact and jerked back, quivering in Matilda’s hands; Rex, daring only to open one eye, whistled a sigh of relief.

"Oh, brother! What a method t’ mangle a mallet! I just hope that Quinn gal’s willing t’ share hers with ya.” He paused suddenly, noticing the bas-relief of his profile imploded into the surface like an exceedingly violent pin sculpture. “Hey, neat-o. On second thought, can I keep this?”

Unnoticed in all the commotion and bustle, slithering determinedly along the ground and up the low-hanging utility pole above them like an ever-growing snake, Rex’s uncoiling foot began to shine with the dull orange lustre of copper. Its end swivelled left, then right, as if making sure the coast was clear…

"That is, if Bentley here don’t offer too much resistance.”

His eyes narrowed instantly, the Hell did…

"No. No, I won’t go along for this- this is preposterous!"

This wasn’t any face- this was his FATHER’S face- this face held significance- held IMPORTANCE. He wasn’t about to go to court over infringement- his entire life was built into his trade- and his trade focused around things that included projects like his mask. Not to mention the sentimental value-… wait a minute.

"… wait, what?"

He didn’t finish the sentence, bolting down an alleyway and immediately knocking as much as he could on the ground behind him to try and cause at least a minimal distraction. That’s JUST what he needed... at least if he could get a decent head start, one of his work stations were close by; he’d sent Bentley and Matilda there to take care of a few things while he was gone and observing some new, ah, "materials" amongst the Gotham streets. He supposed it was a good thing that he decided to start heading that way initially, just a few blocks off.

He dared to look back to see if Metamorpho was gaining on him - he wasn’t about to stop, he knew that much. Keep running, keep at it. He was certainly no match for him, but Bentley, perhaps... who knows, perhaps he wouldn’t actually pursue him?

Wishful thinking.

But, sadly, momentum was to prove itself a cruel mistress; the second he rounded the corner, the sledgehammer blow from his unknown assailant was enough to send the normally implacable oddball careening back into the opposite wall, where he was buried in a heap of trash bags and brick fragments. Rex crawled out, not so much dazed as confused - both at who could punch almost as hard as Java, and just who were his newfound friends standing before him.

The young woman might just have passed for beautiful, had the milky white eyes and corpse-like rigidity of her scarred visage not pegged her as a proud member of the Mathis clan. The long-armed brute, on the other hand... well, nobody could call him pretty, no matter how low their standards; for cryin' out loud, he made the Toxic Avenger look like Rudolf Valentino.

"Ah, more a' the 'Family', I presume?" Rex grunted, brushing a stray glob of cat food off his shoulder. "Copacetic. Say, Wednesday, could you ask Lurch over there t' tell me where Daddy Gomez scuttled off to?"

Bentley - predictably, not one for the finer points of communication - pounded forth in a linebacker's charge, pinned Rex against the wall, and screamed a long, wordless howl of fury directly in his face like the world's worst-smelling wind tunnel. It made the part when he was covered in garbage seem almost pleasant.

"Look, buddy, I get it, alright?" Rex barked, spittle dripping down his forehead. "You're only insecure an' aggressive 'cause you're th' one guy in th' whole house who can't grow dreadlocks! I've been there, man! M.P.B.'s a heartbreaker! But that ain't a good enough excuse t' clamp yer greasy mitts on me!"

His eyes narrowed instantly, the Hell did…

"No. No, I won’t go along for this- this is preposterous!"

This wasn’t any face- this was his FATHER’S face- this face held significance- held IMPORTANCE. He wasn’t about to go to court over infringement- his entire life was built into his trade- and his trade focused around things that included projects like his mask. Not to mention the sentimental value-… wait a minute.

"… wait, what?"

He paused suddenly, considering her own unfortunate personal history.