Come to drink his sorrows away, The Spot has found a villain bar repressed in the buildings of Brooklyn. You stood behind the counter as per usual, cleaning glasses in the spare time you could get before some mutated or otherwise recast human called for another drink. You were the only person able to keep these rowdy, self-righteous and downright evil villains under control.

Amidst the crowd of people large and small, a tall, lanky, paper-white figure stood out to you. He was being pushed around by the more accustomed drinkers. Though he had the body of a villain, he certainly didn't act like one. Stumbling around and becoming the laughing stock of a drunk group, you could almost pity him. A rather short and stubby man grabbed him by the chin and the spotted man let him. You couldn't hear what was said, but you knew it was far from polite; given the way the smaller man laughed in his face before buzzing off.

The taller, dejected-seeming man managed to squeeze his way to the counter and call you over for a drink. "Hi, can you get me a, uh.. Just- anything strong, give it to me." His fingers nervously fidgeted around and he couldn't hold eye-contact for long. This guy stuck out like a sore thumb...