Chapter Text
Now, when Tommy wandered into this bank to try his hand at a Broadway worthy performance just to get an extra lollipop, the last consequence he was prepared for was to be held at gunpoint. What was worse was that he was held at said gunpoint by some pussies that made inanimate objects gag at the mere sight of their absolutely atrocious taste in shoes. Tommy is pretty sure he actually saw a roach crawl out of one of the guys’ left shoe and book it in the opposite direction.
This is not the first time Tommy fantasizes about being a roach, and it most likely will not be the last.
Not to say he isn't relieved he wasn't in the guy's shoe, because he definitely is. Just standing next to this particular guy makes him want to pass out. Tommy is convinced that this guy single handedly could solve overpopulation in a single stretch. And maybe this guy is also the leading cause of blindness. Or the black plague. Or any STD ever. Or- well, you get the point.
This man Creature of the Sewer is negatively repulsive. Not even positively repulsive – negatively repulsive.
His friends?
Let's just say Tommy thinks this group is public enemy zero. The leading cause of everything wrong with the world. The reason people drop dead every day. The reason deodorant exists. These guys seriously need the longest, hottest, most bacteria killing, disinfecting, febreze shower in existence.
This is quite the awkward silence they were in. Well, in reality it's anything but silent for the Stinker Slinkers™ since they're shouting at other people in the bank, threatening other civilians. So, pretty normal robbery activities. Tommy, however, has cold metal pressed to his temple and the most putrid creature polluting his personal space bubble with its breathing.
So obviously, he does the sane thing.
“..So, lovely weather we're having, ey?”
More painful silence.
“...after this, can you please take a shower or something, Mr. Stench?”
“What did you just say to me, twerp?”
Ah, shit. Perhaps pissing off the guy who has a gun pointed to your head isn't the best idea after all. Good thing Tommy has not yet claimed to have good ideas.
“Ah, I said please take a shower, for the good of both the human and roach population. Thank you for your sacrifice, Rayleigh the Roach.” Tommy says as a singular tear slips down his cheek before he immediately deadpans.
Suddenly, Tommy's intense staring contest with Mr. Stench is cut off by a yell from one of his friends, and a blinding pain fills Tommy's head.
The next thing he knows is he's coughing and blinking away spots in his vision, and he feels sick to his stomach. Eventually his vision clears and he can see the far counter where his favorite bank teller works is in ruins, a hole blown straight through the side of the bank.
Wait, was that fucking Chorus and Hive?! Ah, so either a double robbery or he'll be saved. Not the best gamble to make with his patented Tommy Luck. A look over at the counters confirms Tommy won't be getting his lollipop today.
Double pause. His fucking bank teller works in the spot that was blown to smithereens. There will be a couple more illegal activities than normal on Tommy's personal record today.
Good thing no one will have to live with that stench anymore, he supposes. Really, his revenge is more like a heroic deed to the general public than a murder. Tommy unconsciously goes to run a hand through his hair, but is cut off by a sharp gasp and a tight but not painful grasp on his wrist. Ah, that's right, this is still a hostage situation.
“Oh my God! Are you alright?! Don't worry, I've got you, it'll be alright, I promise!”
Tommy's head snaps up at the voice and is met with an incredibly worried and anxious looking vigilante, “uhh.. thats nice, I guess? Why are you freaking out..?”
A pause, then a shaky breath, “Alright, Alright, keep talking to me, okay? Don't freak out,”
Tommy cuts the man off, “Why are you freaking out? Saying ‘don't freak out’ isn't exactly comforting,” Tommy scoffs.
Contrary to popular belief, having a well known vigilante, whom you've never even been in the near vicinity of before absolutely freaking out over you isn't very reassuring.
A strange vwoop sound comes from the Vigilante before darkness seems to swallow Tommy whole. Originally, Tommy is under the assumption he either passed out or was finally claimed by the angry American possum, but that was quickly scrapped when the light returned.
Tommy was now somehow on top of the shoulders of a very confused, very bald man who was stood against the far wall of the bank from where Tommy was. Formerly. He was quickly pulled down by Chorus and had to witness a 43 second long apology to the bald man from Chorus before Chorus had to teleport to his partner, Hive.
Hive was now angrily trying to scramble towards the hole in the wall where Tommy could now see what looked like the physical embodiment of a Jalapeño pepper climbing through the rubble.
Great, the Hallucination Gang was here. No, he will still never call them ‘the Dream Team’ because it's still stupid.
Anyway, now Tommy had to figure out what to do next. Some people were brave enough to run out of the bank, while others were crying and pressed against different walls in the bank.
Ugh, being a civilian sucked, Tommy has decided. Well, it has its perks. Like not having to throw yourself into danger constantly, and not having to go through the immense effort required to cause it. All you had to do was not die!
Okay, so not the easiest thing to do, as it turns out.
The original thieves were long gone, it seems. The bald man just ran, so his emotional support scalp was gone, too. Hive and Chorus were now standing off in tensioned silence with the three top heros.
Tommy runs a hand through his hair, barely touching his head before pulling his hand back with a yelp, blinding pain pulsing through his head again.
Holy shit. That's what he forgot at the store! Shampoo! And bandages!
Oh, also, he may or may not have a life threatening injury and concussion.
Whoopsie.