A far better chef [Roman]

[Edward Nygma]

A month had past since he had introduced himself to Gotham, and even though a flying rodent and a police detective had interrupted his riddle, the city still found considered it a great success. Edward’s name littered the new networks, papers, and radios. The constant scandals had revealed practically broke the structures of Gotham’s city government, one after another debating on resigning. The Batman and GCPD seen as incompetent failures unable to capture him or clean up the fallout of the truth. Yes, for all intensive purposes, Edward could still claim that his riddle had been successful. Admittedly, it had taken him a week of brooding, pouting, and angrily pacing through his current hideout to reach that conclusion. Edward had not failed. No, in fact, it had all gone better than originally planned! Yes, Gotham knew the Riddler, and he would make certain they realized that he was not a man to trifle with. However, as time went on, the news stories moved to the next items of attention, other costume criminals, and personally, Edward did not like it.

For that reason, he found himself in a bustling kitchen this fine Saturday evening, watching as waiters brought out dishes to hundreds of people enjoying dinner during a Charity Gala. Edward sat on one of the counters, checking his watch for the time. He had it all calculated out, waiting for the perfect moment to make the most dramatic of entrances. His bruises had healed from his last encounter with the Bat, and thankfully, he was now prepared if the Bat decided to make an appearance again. He looked put together in his classic green suit and bowler cap and a purple tie with a question mark. He was prepared for an audience, and an audience he would have. All the caterers were men that he paid, and he paid well. After the name recognition he had received, it seemed quite a few people had an interest in working for him. But because cooking and serving was certainly none of their forte, the food tasted terrible and there had been quite a few slips ups outside, such as plates falling or food coming out raw. Many of the guest were actually quite confused, but were far too polite to raise a stir over the issues.

Unbeknownst to Edward, who patiently waited inside the kitchen, one of the men had become to fill wine glasses. The man was slightly uncoordinated and distracted by a quite beautiful woman sitting next to Mr. Roman Sionis. As such, he ended up accidentally pouring the wine onto Roman directly, red wine. It took a moment for the server to realize what he had done, and he quickly lifted the wine bottle, “I apologize!”

[Roman Sionis]

[Takes place prior to the Fall of Janus Cosmetics]

Charity. What a joke, and not a funny one unless the character was named the Joker.

In this fallen and sinful world only man could distort something intended for good. Many villains. Many monsters. Many ego-maniacs hid behind the masquerade of charity to placate their true motivations. In the fictional universe of the 6th world an organization called the Universal Brotherhood offered the homeless medical attention, food, and shelter only to abduct the poor to serve as hosts for dreaded insect spirits. Lex Luthor, the famed criminal master genius, will use charity as a prologue to becoming President of the United States.

Thankfully, Roman Sionis did not believe in charity the world would be doomed.

Dressed in a very expensive blue suede suit and cheetah velvet pants, Sionis was making a statement once again in the fashion world. He was after all the current CEO of a moderate cosmetic company. Underneath the blue suit jacket, he was wearing an Armani black t-shirt. To Roman's left, Circe sat with her legs crossed. She was dressed in a shoulder strapless red dress. Roman's favorite. Her naturally fiery hair put an exclamation point on the red dress. Red on red? A powerful combination that drew anyone's attention. There is a reason why the police pull over red cars more often than any other. It was because of the natural attraction one had towards red and the color affinity that red had with actual colors. Studies showed that people most often associated the word color with red.

Sionis was not even sure what the charity event he was attending was for. The last one he went to was at Bruce Wayne's mansion, some charity to save the rain forest. An event the likes of Jeremiah Arkham and Pamela Isley attended. Pamela <bleepin> Isley! Roman shuttered and smiled at the thought of the name.

It was getting busier as the night progressed. You could see inside the kitchen from the main exhibit hall. Roman was getting hungry. Was that some dude wearing a green suit? No one wore a green suit unless their name was Mr. Roman Sionis! It made a mental note to have a conversation with the green suited nitwit later in the night. Suddenly a clumsy waiter spilled wine all over the blue suede suit jacket Roman was wearing.

"You IDIOT! You clumsy IDIOT! THIS SUIT COST MORE THAN YOUR ENTIRE YEARLY SALARY." Roman stood and grabbed the waiter by the jacket collar. Roman shook the poor waiter as if he was trying to shake change out of the man's jacket. "Watcha going to do about it? Huh? Huh? Huh? Go get me your manager! Is it that fool wearing the green jacket inside the kitchen?!"

[Edward Nygma]

Edward could care less about the purpose of the charity itself. At least once a month, if not once a week, the Gotham elite would congregate to continue a façade that they cared for those less fortunate than them. In reality, they attended for the alcohol, social status, and inside gossip that often occurred at each event. Another examples of the lies society built around itself. No, Edward was here because of those in attendance. After all, it was these very people that were so quick to turn their backs on him after the Federal government accused him of embezzlement. One moment, they showered him with affection and attention. The next, he was trash never to be discussed.

Edward waited within the kitchen under the assumption he was not visible to the guests outside. He remained perched on one of the countertops, double checking each part of his plan was in place prior to his entrance. It was always best to rehearse one’s lines before taking the stage, sort of speak. He frowned when he heard noise of plates in the background. The kitchen staff was quite incompetent. If he had the time, he would have cooked the entire meal himself. “It requires almost no coordination. At the very least, keep the food off the ground!” he made a remark to one of the staff inside the kitchen, who made a quick apology to him. He huffed and returned to his phone, unaware of the activity happening at Roman’s table.

The goon/waiter was rather surprised when the man began outright shout at him. “Oh, I…I’m sorry,” he said, and then his eyes widened when he mentioned the Riddler’s suit color. “No. No, need to get him involved!” The goon began to sweat and shake his head. “Sorry. Sorry! I will get you a new glass!” The man was stumbling over his words like he stumbled over his feet. He did his best to bolt back to the kitchen to warn the Riddler of the issue. He hesitated a few times on his way to the kitchen, debating whether he should actually tell his boss.

[Roman Sionis]

The waiter quickly hurried back inside of the kitchen. "Oh poor Roman." Circe looked at the stain on It's blue suede jacket with a pout. She used what was left of her white place cloth to help clean off the purple liquid. Every second that the wine lingered, the more the article of clothing stained.

Circe's affection helped with easing some of Roman's nasty temper. "What type of staff do they hire here Circe? I mean, am I a living reincarnation of Charlie Brown? Is there a black cloud hanging over me? Has Weird Al Yankovic suddenly started practicing voodoo on me?! I mean sheeeeeeh. Bad business luck. Valley Girl antagonists. Renegade Research and Development staff. Wine being spilled on me! Uggghhh. I mean. I don't deserve this bad karma!"

Roman did not realize it. But It was yelling out loud, and suddenly most people who were not engaged in a present conversation turned around to pay attention to Roman. "Awe !@#!@$."

Roman quickly got up from It's seat and walked over to the corner of the ballroom, leaving Circe to sit by herself.

Roman whipped out It's cell phone and checked twitter, facebook, instagram, etc. Roman's night just seemed to continue to get worse. There were various comments, feeds, and trolls spamming It's social media accounts. Ever since this so called Riddler's attack on media privacy, the city had been going ape ^#!*#. It had taken at least a few months for people to recover. Some had recovered faster than others. Roman Sionis's social media account was recovering slower than most.

With all of the bad press Janus Cosmetics has been getting, I still haven't figured out who this Riddler A$$hole is.  When I do, I'll make sure to purchase that rusted scalpel off craiglist and personally use it on he or she or it..whatever the heck the Riddler is!

Roman's stomach growled.  "Where the heck is my food?"  It looked towards the doors leading into the kitchen.  The waiter still had not yet come out.  That does it.

Roman marched towards those doors, rolling up It's sleeves with purpose before reaching them.  Them with a burst, Roman flung his arms wide out open and barged through the kitchen doors.  

"WOOOOOOOOOOO!"  Roman scanned the room and saw the state of the kitchen staff. "WOW!  You guys are terrible.  No one is washing their hands.  Scraps of food all over the counter tops.  Chaos."

One figure stood out from the rest of the staff.  It was the man with the green suit and green bowler's hat, and purple tie sitting on a kitchen counter using his phone.  "You!  Mr. Fancy Pants.  Yes you dressed like the leprechaun from the cereal commercial!  Where are my lucky charms?  They are magically delicious. Heeeeee"