Fandom: DC Comics
Prompt: #16, God
Word Count: About three hundred and seventy.
Disclaimer: DC Comics owns all characters involved.
Summary: To mix a couple of metaphors, the problem with omniscient gods is that you can't ever be small enough to fly under their radar.
Author Note: This isn't at all the kind of story I assumed I would write for this prompt. But the more I look at it, the more I think it's right, flaws and all.
I know where this is going. I've been already flown to jail twice, and once the Bat strung me up from a light pole. And I wasn't in Gotham, I was in Philadelphia! What was he doing in Philadelphia, for God's sake?
I'm not saying what I do is legal, but it ain't dishonest. I never steal from folks worse off than me, never hurt anybody, never used a gun. My brother's a priest, for god's sake, and he still has dinner with me every other Saturday as long as I confess and don't do anything stupid. I just do what my dad taught me to, what he learned back when he was a kid. And it's not like pickpocketing isn't hard work, either. I have to practice, I have to pick the mark with care, I have to make sure he won't notice. I swear once I saw an old lady lose her wallet and I picked it up from the street and ran after her to give it back, and I didn't even took any money, 'cause she looked like my grandmom.
I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I don't think I deserve all the times I've met you folks. I mean, I've been caught by Superman, I've had Flash strip me naked -you've got to have a word with that kid-, I've had my ass handed to me by Batman... I'm not a supervillain or something. You don't go after every guy like me, do you?
... Well, I guess you don't, or Fat Fred wouldn't be quite so fat. Anyways, I know you are, you know, honest and everything, you're in the League, but I was wondering if we could make some sort of deal. Like, you don't take me to the cops and I, dunno, don't work for a week or something like that? C'mon, Mister Manhunter. Give a guy a break. I can't even work with other guys now, everybody says I'm a cape magnet or something stupid like that. Have a heart, let me go.
Down on the ground, I mean.
Oh, well. I guess you won't, huh? Worth a shot, I guess.
But I'm still saying it ain't fair.