The snow flies on a cold and gray Gotham morning. You were a Crime Alley kid, and one day you illegally purchased a gun and stole a car in a moment of desperation. You’d tried to run, but you didn’t get very far. Right now you’re collapsed in the cold snow, a bullet wound in your leg from the Red Hood. You still have the gun clutched in your hands. He slowly walks towards you.

“Come on kid, put the weapon down. I don’t want to hurt you.”